Test Drive Meme

[etcircenses]

Welcome new Tributes!

The Capitol has gathered a good crop of you at once, and to help morale, and to ease you into Capitol society they are throwing a banquet, just for those who work with the Games. Stylists, Escorts, mentors, a few of the Capitol elite, and of course, you all, the Tributes.

Instead of waking up in the normal way, new Tributes awake in lush beds, in a very posh ski lodge. Elegant but simple clothes are laid out for them, in a warm grey, and a note to come down as soon as they are ready. And if they linger too long, a peacekeeper appears to escort them down.

Those from the Capitol, are brought in on chartered party buses, one for each District, which are about as posh as a bus can get. It's a roughly 45 minute drive, well out of the Capitol's city limits.

Although the party is "mellow" by Capitol standards, it is still pretty damn extravagant. Alcohol flows freely, and banquet tables are kept fully stocked by silent avoxes. The whole ski lodge has been cleared out, and guest can hit up an ice skating rink, or pick out a swim suit and jumped into the huge, natural hot springs tubs.

As the night drags on, however, all does not go as planned. Half way through the night, there is a tremendous roar, and the hotel is plunged into pitch blackness. There is chaos for roughly 10 minutes, till low power emergency lights flicker on. However the generators don't have the power to keep the heater going.

A first aid station is set up, and the avoxes start pulling in blankets to the main lobby, lighting a fire in the fireplace and doing what they can to keep everyone warm. It is quickly communicated that there was an avalanche, and although the hotel remains in good shape, the power and the road to the Capitol has been cut out.

It's going to be a long night.


OOC INFORMATION

Welcome to the test drive meme for thegames!

We are both a jamjar and a Hunger Games AU character game. You can choose to either have your character ported in from their world or AU them into Panem. Detailed knowledge of the Hunger Games is not required. We accept just about any character and character type that we can work into the world, including AUs, OCs, and up to 3 multiples (however, each versions of a character must be significantly different from the others.)

All the information you need can be found in this post, which can always be found at the top of the mod account. And if you don't find something you need, the FAQ is here, so drop us a line!

Welcome, and may the odds be ever in your favor!

Comments

[costing]

Scarring. It's the second time she's mentioned it, and his mind presents him with a list of possible implications, unbidden. He supposes it doesn't actually matter how it happened; if the information becomes relevant she'll tell him. But as it stands it's a bit of a Schrodinger situation-- as though every possibility had actually occurred, because he doesn't know the one that did.

"Could be an elaborate ruse. Some type of incredibly advanced virtual reality," he says, stressing the last two words with a bit of distaste. "Of course, it would seem real until you escaped it. But the multiple lives concept would be a bit cliched, in that case."

[formersurgeon]

"It could be entirely in our heads somehow," she agrees. "But there's no way to prove or disprove that, so it's not very helpful. And even if we knew how they were doing it, how they were putting us back together and bringing us back to life, I'm not sure it would help us."

[costing]

"There's only one thing for it," he decides after a moment. "We have to find a flaw in the cage, or the program, or whatever this ends up being."

[formersurgeon]

She nods slowly in the dark. Sherlock...John's Sherlock...hasn't been looking at it in that way, as far as she knows. Not while she's been here at least.

"There must be one."

[costing]

"Of course there is," he says immediately. It wouldn't have been his suggestion otherwise. In his experience, even the smartest of sociopaths slips up at least once. It's statistically impossible for it to be otherwise.

"The only thing for it is to find said weakness, and then exploit it."

[formersurgeon]

"There's a rebellion," she says. "The Capitol has been ruthless in stomping out opposition, which of course just made it grow stronger. I have some friends who are involved. Maybe they can help."

[costing]

It's not very charitable, but his first thought is that the rebellion might provide a decent cover while he tries to get something significant done. He doesn't voice this opinion, however, just nods thoughtfully before he realizes that they're still standing in the dark.

"If their power was absolute, they'd have no need. So that may be one thing in our favor, already."

[formersurgeon]

"Exactly," she agrees. "They're trying too hard to show their strength, thus demonstrating weakness. Still, that strength? Includes constant surveillance, public executions, and the destruction of an entire district."

[costing]

He hasn't gotten as firm a grasp on the specifics of this world as he'd like, but he can take the emphasis and extrapolate.

"Issues of control manifesting in destruction. So noted."

[formersurgeon]

She thinks of everything else he should probably know. About the Arenas. The children who used to be forced to kill each other. Sherlock and John and how close the three have become. But she doesn't know where to start. And Sherlock must be wondering about a thousand things.

"You must have questions."

[costing]

"A multitude," he agrees, easily. "But I expect there will be time for that, later." Right now the lights are off and the hallway is freezing and he probably only has a few more minutes to try his initial plan. So he moves past her, trusting her to catch the gesture for her to follow.

[formersurgeon]

He moves past her, and she follows, staying close so that she doesn't lose him.

"What do you have in mind?"

[costing]

"We've already established that they're rather dependent on energy, correct?" He doesn't wait for an answer, but as he walks keeps talking. "And yet now there is none. I want to know how it happened, and what that's left them open to."

[formersurgeon]

"The cameras are probably down," she says, squinting into the darkness. "And we're all going to freeze if they don't get something going. Which means the Avoxes and Peacekeepers will be busy..."

[costing]

"Which means you must be sensing the same opportunity that I am." They're through the hallway, now, and towards one of the main doors. The outdoors will be freezing, but not comparably much worse than their current situation.

[formersurgeon]

She realizes the direction they're headed and stops, grabbing his arm.

"Sherlock, no. We're in a ski lodge in the mountains. It's forty-five minutes from civilization by bus, and it's freezing out there. The only thing we're likely to do is freeze to death, and they don't bring people back if they die outside the Arena."

[costing]

He pauses, but sounds nothing short of perturbed when he responds, "Groups that design themselves as all-powerful don't repeat the same mistake. Are we likely to have this chance again?"

[formersurgeon]

"A chance to what? To die in the snow?"

She draws closer so she can lower her voice.

"This is a chance. It's a chance to find other Tributes like us and share information. Maybe it's a chance for us to try to take over the lodge. Overpower the Peacekeepers while they're distracted with what's going on. If we go out there, we will die, and that chance? Will be wasted."

[costing]

Hypothermia isn't the best way to go, it's true. But the alternatives don't sound much better and at least then he would have had tried.

She makes too much sense, sometimes. Her plan is a sound one and he can't find fault with it-- it just doesn't follow his own preferences. It's slow, and too reliant on others. He's just barely come to trust people. Gregson and Bell only barely make the cut, and Watson's own position in his esteem is entirely without precedent. He doesn't know if he could look at a room--an arena?-- of strangers and trust them.

He doesn't want to have to try.

He doesn't speak for a long moment. When he does, his voice is deceptively casual. "We might sabotage the power grid a bit. Give us a bit more time in which to make those plans."

[formersurgeon]

She knows this isn't the way he does things. Knows he doesn't rely on people any more than he has to. He's so like John's Sherlock in that way.

She has a deep fear that this place is going to destroy him, just like it's destroying his counterpart. But she's going to fight like hell to keep that from happening, starting with keeping him from just walking out into the snow to die.

"The fuse boxes are probably in the basement," she answers. "The generators are probably outside somewhere. Considering all the snow, they might be on the roof. There was a loud noise outside before the power went down, so I'm thinking that means the reason for the blackout is that the power lines are down."

[costing]

"So pick our poison, Watson-- roof or basement?"

They could both do a sizable amount of damage in either case. The basement would be harder to navigate in the dark, the roof more perilous in the weather.

[formersurgeon]

"Basement," she answers. "Easier to find access and less of a chance of deadly cold and winds. And the power from the generators would be routed through there. Two birds, one stone."

[costing]

There's something like pride on his face, if she could see it. But as she can't, he merely changes directions and says, "Lead on, then."

[formersurgeon]

She holds onto his arm to guide him as she heads to the west side of the lobby. She can hear people moving around, and she doesn't know if they're Tributes or Peacekeepers, so she steers clear, and talks quietly.

"Everyone uses elevators. Hedonists, like I said. But there's always a stairwell."

And she always notes where it is.

[costing]

His eyes have grown at least somewhat accustomed to the dark, at this point, so while it's still impossible to make out most people and things, he can track shadows well enough to not trip or run into a wall. Still, he sticks close to her, not knowing how he'd find her again if he lost her, at least not without drawing attention to himself.

The stairwell is small and serviceable, and clearly doesn't see much use. In other words, it's perfect.

"I will want to talk about it, you know," he says conversationally as he begins to descend. "What you've been through, here. Just at a more appropriate moment."