slideshow; a view of the capitol | catullus

Kire
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slideshow; a view of the capitol | catullus Jan 17, 2020 15:19:25 GMT -5

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Post by Kire on Jan 17, 2020 15:19:25 GMT -5

Catullus Brown
district 3 male

There is barely a moment between when I am dragged to the front of the crowd and when I am hauled onto a train. Immediately I am thrown into a small room with a bed, a toilet, and a sink. The sound of the door slamming and locking behind me is unmistakable. Things are clear, now, I am not a guest. They were not protecting the son of a loyal citizen, they were making sure I was still alive enough to die later.

I am a prisoner, treated the same as the rebels from last year. My name meant nothing to them.

Or maybe it did, and maybe they were making a statement. Standing in the center of a room with nowhere to hide, a cold room without feeling or remorse, I wasn't treated any differently from the rebels. No one was safe. No one got second chances or special treatment. The thought is bitter.

Knocking on the door gets no response. Neither does asking what time it was, how long the trip would be, or any other benign question I could come up with. All I have to occupy my time is my thoughts, this tiny room, and the distant flickering of outside light. I have no real window in the room, just a slit near the top that tells me it's still daytime.

I'm in for a long wait.

On hills and waves on stormy days.

Kire
Retired Staff

2,937 POSTS
Pronouns: she/her
last seen Jul 16, 2015 21:45:21 GMT -5

thinking about thonking

slideshow; a view of the capitol | catullus Jan 17, 2020 15:27:43 GMT -5

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Post by Kire on Jan 17, 2020 15:27:43 GMT -5

Catullus Brown
district 3 male

It's dark by the time I hear the door unlock. Instantly I am hauled up and forcefully guided out of the room, the train, the small station. I realize that the darkness was due to being underground, so in reality I had no way to know how long I had been in there. Down here is precision, cleanliness, and a suffocating presence of control. Everything will go exactly as planned, because of course it would. I can't help but admire them for that.

I am led to another room. This one is also small, cold, and unwelcoming. The door bangs shut just like the last one did. I am once again in a prison cell. Disappointment clings to me despite the ridiculousness of it. I had no chance of actually seeing the Capitol. I had hoped that maybe I would be able to enjoy at least one view of it, to be able to tell my dad that I saw it.

"He died for you." My words are quiet and echo softly in the corners of the room. I don't expect any answer. I get none.

On hills and waves on stormy days.

Kire
Retired Staff

2,937 POSTS
Pronouns: she/her
last seen Jul 16, 2015 21:45:21 GMT -5

thinking about thonking

slideshow; a view of the capitol | catullus Jan 17, 2020 18:49:44 GMT -5

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Post by Kire on Jan 17, 2020 18:49:44 GMT -5

Catullus Brown
district 3 male

The room has no way to get out aside from the locked door, at least as far as I can see. I've paced the length of each wall, looking for anything that might give me some to clue as to what will come. There is nothing here but cold stone walls, a colder floor, and a bed that doesn't feel much more comfortable than either.

My fingertips trace the walls, searching in vain for any sort of crack or depression. As usual, the Capitol's construction is flawless. My father was definitely right to claim that they had the greatest technology, so much more than even we had in the District. While we created and ran a large variation of their electronics and other devices, they very clearly had much more intricate technicians and inventors working in the Capitol itself. Smart, keeping this out of the rebel's knowledge. They couldn't combat something they didn't know about.

My fingers itch to explore gadgets I could only imagine.

I wondered if my father had had any influence on these developments. He had been working for the Capitol despite the danger, aiding them with what he could offer. Skilled with electronics, he had wanted to give whatever help he could to the people he was sure would save us from the folly of the rebels. Maybe he had made a difference, the Capitol had won in the end, after all. Still, I wasn't sure his life was valued as much by anyone as he deserved.

Sitting on the bed is about as comfortable as sitting on the floor, or so I'd guess. Still, I was drained from the suddenness of everything and needed to rest. I had only the vaguest idea of what was going to happen, and even less of a notion on when. Once again I was trapped with no way to tell the time. All I had left to do was wait. Wait and think.

"Hey dad, I made it." My voice is still soft, still just a whisper. "I'm in the Capitol." My mouth is twisted, a dark grimace. "Too bad I can't see anything other than stone."

On hills and waves on stormy days.

Kire
Retired Staff

2,937 POSTS
Pronouns: she/her
last seen Jul 16, 2015 21:45:21 GMT -5

thinking about thonking

slideshow; a view of the capitol | catullus Jan 18, 2020 11:40:50 GMT -5

Quote

Post by Kire on Jan 18, 2020 11:40:50 GMT -5

Catullus Brown
district 3 male

They only came by enough to feed me. I would get a plate of food slid over to me where they told me to wait on the bed, then they would leave again. It was bland, a gritty mix of oil and grain, but I found it to be at least filling. I could eat this because I was starving but if I were to have the option I would take almost anything else. Once again, no special treatment for me. So much for all of the glorious food, dad.

As the footsteps marched to my door, a faint sound I only heard because I was listening for it, I prepared myself for another tasteless meal.

Only this time it wasn't food that was placed in front of me, but clothes. "Change." The order was sharp, and I realized that a Peacekeeper was stood in the room with me, glaring. It was clear that if I didn't immediately go to do so, he would be stuffing me into these clothes without any gentleness.

Swallowing my urge for privacy, I stripped out of what I had been wearing. I was about to pull the leg of the jumpsuit on when he pointed at my boxers. "Those too." Then he indicated the fresh pair stacked neatly under the jumpsuit. Trying to hide my discomfort, I forced myself to perform one of the greatest indignities I have ever done.

Dressed in the all-grey jumpsuit and the heavy black boots, I looked much more the part of a prisoner than I had until now. The sudden request to change had caught me off guard and now I was trying to calculate how long I had been in here, and how much longer I had left to go.

Surely with this shift in the schedule, we were nearing the start of the Hunger Games.

Fuck, I'm not ready.