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

Combeferre | Les Miserables

[philosophe]

[This was -- very definitely not Paris. Nor was it the barricades. Perhaps he'd been hit on the head? This could very well be a hallucination borne from blood-loss and dirt on the streets of Paris. Or, less believably, perhaps it was the afterlife; though he put little stock in those thoughts. In any case...the clean clothes were most certainly welcome. He might as well investigate, whether or not this was a hallucination.

So Combeferre stands in a mostly-unoccupied corner, peering through his spectacles and looking more than slightly baffled at -- well, everything, really.]

Re: Combeferre | Les Miserables

[medecin]

[Truthfully, Joly's a little baffled by all of this as well. And wrapped in five layers of scarves. When he spots a familiar face, well, really a familiar head and shoulders from the distance, he is immediately making an excuse to the crowd of fans he's somehow managed to gather, promising to tell them more hilarious stories of his friends and their escapades later, and making his way over to Combeferre, an almost full glass of wine resting in his hand, which he is almost immediately pressing on his friend.]

Combeferre?! They've brought you into this horror?

Combeferre | Les Miserables

[philosophe]

[Oh thank the supreme being, someone he recognizes. At least, under the five layers of scarves. --And the wine, which he takes gratefully and then gives Joly a very confused look.]

Apparently, though I've no idea what this horror may be.

Re: Combeferre | Les Miserables

[medecin]

It...is all rather complicated at that. I am not sure I am the best to fill you in if you have not been told.

[And Joly's shifting, a little guiltily there, as he says that much.]

I...some of the rest of us have come here too. It might be better that we find Enjolras in this before I say much more.

[philosophe]

Enjolras is here? [He takes a moment for a grateful sip of wine, and presses a hand to Joly's shoulder.]

This is -- I do feel as though I may be hallucinating. Are you certain this is not the afterlife?

[medecin]

He is, yes.

And ...afterlife?

[There is a bit of a blink from Joly at that.]

What exactly do you remember, before you came here then?

[philosophe]

Why, the barricades. [A curious look, and he adjusts his glasses.]

What is it for you?

[medecin]

Oh it was the same for me. I had only wished to not, well, when you spoke of afterlifes... I can assume of course that I was killed there but...I do not remember it myself.

[philosophe]

I cannot say, but the last I remember was -- not at all pleasant. [He shrugs a bit and takes another sip of wine.]

Might you at least tell me where we are?

[libertin]

[After several months in the Capitol, Courfeyrac is fairly certain that he is not hallucinating any longer. That being said, he is not sure he can believe his eyes when he sees that familiar face in the banquet hall. His stomach does a sick flip and he's torn between feeling elated and overjoyed and feeling like he's about to go into mourning.]

I cannot believe my eyes. Or can I?

[He approaches roughly, as if he might tackle the man.]

What terrible luck. Ah, but I have never been happier!

[philosophe]

Courfeyrac! [He brightens at the familiar face and steps forward for a brief, tight hug.]

You sound as though I have turned into our aigle, to be so happy at misfortune. What is this place?

[libertin]

[He does not want to release Combeferre, but he somehow manages to remember himself and maintain semi-composed.]

We are in Panem, or as I have come to understand it, a newly discovered circle of hell. Welcome, my friend. Welcome to the insanity. I am so sorry you are here.

[philosophe]

[He did not, either; the last he had heard of Courfeyrac was his laughter -- but this is a strange place, with hundreds of strange people, so he thought it was best to be decorous.]

Why, then someone ought to have informed Dante he was incorrect. What is so very hellish about this place, then? I see no devils.

[libertin]

That is because the devils are us. You shall see why, soon enough.

[He steps back, staring at Combeferre again, as if he's checking his vision again. Yes, it really is him. And yes, he's going to have to explain the whole death-arenas-murdering-people-evil-government situation to him. It isn't going to be easy.]

Come. Let me enjoy our reunion a moment longer before I ruin it with the hideous tales of our plight. I've not see you in ages. I've not seen you since...

[Since just before he'd been shot and the world went black and empty.]

[philosophe]

[He gives Courfeyrac a tired smile in answer, absently adjusting his glasses.]

I -- can venture a guess as to when that was; it was much the same for me. This place is...[He shakes his head.] I do not know what to make of it, it is so very different from Paris.

[libertin]

It is nothing like Paris and everything like a nightmare.

[Panem is, as a general rule, difficult to accurately describe. It troubles and baffles Courfeyrac profoundly, which is likely compounding how weird this must be for Combefere. A troubled Courfeyrac is never a good sign.]

We are captives in this other world and there is no longer a Paris for us to return to.

[philosophe]

[It is not, and it gives him some reason for concern. --Other than the lingering confusion and concern of suddenly being transported into a new place.]

Captives? Of whom, and is there resistance? [He chances a look around, but no one seems to be paying too much attention, presumably they don't speak French.]

[orestes]

[He'd spent more time wandering the city again of late, but it still hasn't been customary for him ever since his victory. There are too many people wholly suspicious of his actions and too many more wholly intrigued by him to offer Enjolras the comfort of anonymity he'd enjoys either in Paris or in his first few months in Panem. He keeps his head down as he walks, still too proud to wear a hat to disguise the blond curls visible and too distinctive as they obscure his vision. It's childish but there's the very slight perception that if he cannot see the people gawking at him as he goes about his business, perhaps they will stop being able to see them.

It's due to his paranoid distraction that he almost fails to notice Combeferre. Even when he does, he's distrustful of his eyes. The Capitol has a malicious way of toying with the senses.]

You are here.

[It's only after he's too close to reasonably believe otherwise that he lets himself acknowledge his friend's presence out loud. If this is a trick, he's just played into it, become their dupe yet again. But if it isn't, it's worth it and after he jokes down the guilt he feels for being, on some level, happy to see his best friend, Enjolras can recognize that any risk of the satisfaction they might take for messing with his head is worth everything they'll gain from having Combeferre with them again.]

I would like to believe that you are really here, Combeferre. You will have to forgive me for that eventually.

[philosophe]

Certainly I am here, even if I do not know where 'here' is, quite yet. [He steps forward to pull Enjolras into a hug, then. Things feel somewhat more normal with Enjolras around, though there are still many matters to be cleared up.]

I do not see why I must forgive you for wanting to be among friends in a very strange place; but I assure you I am real as anyone can be.

[orestes]

[Enjolras lets himself fall into the embrace and even responds in kind after he's willing to let himself believe that what Combeferre is saying is true.]

Here is Panem, and it is a terrible place, indeed. What have they told you? It has been over a year since they took me and I cannot remember everything that they say, and everything that you have to discover without the benefit of their help. Are you well? Do you need to eat? Courfeyrac practically demanded food when he arrived. I think it had something to do with the process by which they abducted him, or perhaps it's timing.

[The questions are rapid fire and not quite happy, but a close enough approximation, at least. It's surprisingly easy to fall into old habits, even after a year of trying to break away from them.]

[philosophe]

Very little, only that I was to come down to this banquet, and they gave me these clothes. [Which he was grateful for, though it is very odd to be going about wearing so very little clothing. The clothes given him were certainly better than the bloodstained dirty things he had had on.]

I am ...well enough, for now. Confused, but food -- I honestly cannot remember the last time I ate, so it would be welcome. [He shoots Enjolras a quizzical look at his tone, but he won't comment on it just yet. Better to wait.]

[orestes]

We can leave the banquet, if you would like. There are other restaurants, or I can have food brought to my suite.

[It isn't really a viable option and he knows it. Too many people would notice a missing Victor and he isn't fully prepared to paint a target on Combeferre's back just yet. That will come later when the cameras notice them speaking French and talking with their head bowed close together. But there's no need to speed up the process.]

But there is plenty of food here. I have a number of questions for you, my friend, but they can wait. You will have questions for me and I will answer them as best I can.

[philosophe]

I have many, yes. [He hesitates a moment, looking thoughtful, before he offers Enjolras a tired smile.] Forgive me, I shall try not to overwhelm you with them, but I cannot help myself sometimes.

Firstly -- how did we come to be here? The last I remember was -- [He breaks off, and bites his lip before continuing.] --Well, cannon-fire, among other things, and I do not know if I quite believe this is an afterlife. And secondly: why is this place so terrible?

[orestes]

They take us from our worlds. [He paused, knowing the terminology would be difficult to explain.] That is to say, our realities. You will have questions about that as well, I am sure, but I beg you wait until I have explained the rest of it. They take us from our realities through means of some transporter device. I do not know how it works. There is a lot here that I do not understand in itself. The last thing I remember of Paris was also the barricade. It seems that all of us remember bits and pieces of that day, but we each have slightly different memories, as if they plucked us moments or even hours apart form each other. Joly remembers a cat, I remember speaking to you and to Courfeyrac, Courfeyrac remembers his death, or so he says and who am I to contradict that? Marius-- I have not asked Marius what he would remember. I am not entirely certain that I care.

This is not an after-life, it is simply another reality. We are in a future, but perhaps not our true future. I would like to believe that this is not our true future. Forgive me, my friend, I do not understand enough of it myself to explain it to you. [That's all easy enough to rattle off and it tumbles out of him as if he's said it all a dozen times before or at least considered doing so. It's too organic to have been actually practiced, but there are certain stock questions most people have upon arriving and Enjolras has had to answer them all too many times.]

The reason it is terrible-- Well, I could say that it is terrible because we were stolen from our own lives and brought here, but in truth it is far more complicated than that. You should ask any questions you have on those first things before I try to explain the rest of it. Thankfully, I understand more of what is to come and will not have to bracket too many topics for fear of misinformation.

wow so late

[saisamour]

[Marius, for once, easily takes notice of Combeferre, likely because that is his corner you currently occupy, you Napoleon-hating bitch.

Actually, no. Marius had simply become accustomed to wandering the Capitol near corners and underneath shadows; an attempt to make himself as anonymous, unseen, as possible. And it's not particularly difficult, not when the rest of the world seems drawn to the bright lights of the streets and the shops and the screens.

And so that is how, in the dark, his attention draws to Combeferre. He stops on his tracks, almost abruptly, and stares, blinking twice, in case this is a hallucination, or perhaps more of a nightmare. But it is indeed the very same man he had fought with alongside the barricades, and he's beginning to think that they are one by one being drawn into this world as punishment.

Tentatively, he takes a step forward.]

C-Combeferre?