ψ they are the hunters, we are the foxes | OTA MEETING

[fishermansweater]

WHO: Finnick Odair
WHERE: The Inn
WHEN: Evening of January 20th
OPEN TO: EVERYBODY! Kate and Finnick will be doing their best to make sure everyone is summoned knows
WARNINGS: Who knows with Finnick? Nothing expected.
STATUS: Open!

---

It's late in the day by the time Finnick and Annie return to the village. They've pushed the timing as late as they can: while the auroras are still lighting up the night well enough to see by, they do nothing for the cold that creeps deeper under Finnick's skin with the sinking of the sun. And they definitely do nothing for the snow that had begun to fall again while Finnick and Annie were in the cave, their light dimmed somewhat by the heavy clouds.

The Careers need to get back to the village, and night falls early, now it seems to be something like midwinter.

They'd discussed whether or not to tell the villagers what they'd found. Finnick had thought they'd be giving up a vital potential advantage, but ...

Annie had been right that hiding what they'd found would damage their standing, and while he doesn't care about their reputation here much, he does care that Annie thinks they should be trying to get themselves closer to the villagers, not further away from the community. It has seemed to be the point of their gifts.

So when they make it back to the village at around dusk, they don't skirt around the houses like they usually do, sneak their way through the edges of the woods and find a roundabout way to get back to their house. Today, they go straight for the crossroads at the centre of the village, and straight into the Inn.

Finnick needs to find Kate Kelly, because she knows how to make things happen around here, and if they're going to tell everyone what they found, they need the villagers to gather.

"Kelly," he tells her when she finds her, "We need to call a town meeting. There's something people should know."

So it is that as night falls over the rooftops, gleaming green in the aurora-light as it bounces off snow, people who arrive response to a summons to the large main room of the Inn will find Finnick standing at the front of the room, holding a sketchbook. His ever-present spear is resting against the wall next to him, just next to their meticulously sketched map of the canyon on the stolen curtain.

There's a new mark on one side of the canyon walls.


[ This is your standard mingle-type meeting post! Finnick will have an OTA comment but feel free to mingle, start your own things, threadjack, whatever. ]

Comments

During & After the Meeting | OTA

[fishermansweater]

Meeting

Two people went out to the canyon. Two people explored the cave and found the strange metal room that somehow has power when nowhere else in this place does. Two people studied it and analyzed it and discussed it. But only one of them is any good at drawing, and only one of them is any good in front of a crowd. That's why it's Finnick at the front of the room, Annie's sketches and notes in hand. That's why Annie is sitting off to one side, where she won't draw attention. But as always, she's there, where she can see Finnick and he can see her. Not that he really looks, but ... he's never far enough away from her that he couldn't, if he wanted to.

It's Finnick who addresses the meeting once enough people are there. He stands in front of the group with a studied ease from a decade's worth of life in the public eye, interviews, media appearances, public speeches, cameras in his face and strangers shouting things to him.

Speaking to the village doesn't faze him.

"Earlier today Annie and I found a cave we've never seen before in the canyon walls on the western edge of the canyon. It looks like the earthquake broke off some sort of rock formation that was blocking it from view."

He opens up Annie's sketchbook, and holds it up open to the page on which she'd drawn the general appearance of the strange metallic room they'd found.

"We found another observation room."



Afterwards

After the discussion has died down and people have started to leave, Finnick is, unusually, still there. Partly, he doesn't want to leave until enough of the others have gone that he can feel secure about not being followed home, but also, he's watching, and thinking, going over what's been said in his mind.

He's leaned casually against one of the walls, toying idly with the knotted cord bracelet on his wrist. He's not approaching anyone, but if anyone wants to talk to him about what he and Annie saw, or just to say hi, he looks approachable enough, insofar as he ever does.

In fact, if he catches your eye and smiles, his smile now looks less plastic than it did for the group as a whole.

After

[teen_angst_bullshit]

"You look weirdly calm for a dude who just discovered a secret pod probably used to monitor his every move," Veronica says as she steps up and leans back against the wall next to Finnick. In the past, he'd been so vocal and emphatic when they've all gotten together, it strikes her as a little odd now to see him so relaxed.

She arches an eyebrow with a bewildered little smile. "Is this smugness?"

He'd been right, after all. From the beginning he'd been insisting they were being watched.

[fishermansweater]

Finnick looks calmer than he really is, partly through artifice and partly through the fact that most people don't realize the way he's fiddling with the bracelet on his wrist is a nervous habit. Veronica has a point, though. People have been denying what he's said about the Games since he got here, and seeing some of them start to take notice feels good.

There's no real triumph in it, though: it's a grim sort of satisfaction. But he shrugs at Veronica's question.

"Least now I know."

Not in the way he'd entirely expected, but ... they've been waiting for something to happen, to show some obvious part of the Gamemakers' plan.

"I've had my every move monitored since I was 14. It's hardly new."

[teen_angst_bullshit]

"For what that's worth," Veronica replies of confirming they're being watched. There seems so little they can do about it right now -- Or hell, at any point -- and it's hard to not be a little overwhelmed by that, particularly when she really looks at the kind of people trapped here with her. Superhero or teenage girl, you'll still be pinned in place like a butterfly on a board.

"They watched you because you were in some sort of screwed up game, right? You still think that's what this is?"

During the Meeting

[notsocommon]

"So we've located a second observation pod, then? Were you able to bring anything out of it aside from Annie's sketches? Any documents or evidence of the same? We weren't able to carry things out of the last pod," Helen pointed out.

"And more information might lead us to the identity of our captors."

[fishermansweater]

Finnick's attention goes to the dark-haired woman, Helen Magnus, the one who makes the soap. They've not spoken before, though Annie's met her, but Finnick has been observing her, learning what he can about her, just as he has everyone in the village. She's intelligent, and she'd been part of the group that had discovered the first pod.

He nods, slightly, his vivid green gaze focused on Helen.

"We copied out a few of the documents." He turns to a later page in Annie's sketchbook and holds it up. The page is covered in handwriting, set out in a similar layout to the documents they'd found. "We didn't try to take any of them out, after what happened last time."

They'd thought it would be wiser to copy what they could and leave the documents there so they could come back, if necessary.

"Everything's still where we found it."

OTA

[womanofvalue]

Honestly, Peggy's been worried about the canyons for a long time now. Ever since it felt like she'd been deliberately stranded out on one of the ledges, it's something she's been thinking a lot about. The first group's trip into the rocks had been suspicious enough with the paper and the monster, but to hear that there's some sort of second observation pod is enough to make her realize that they really at the mercy of someone else, some guard or scientist or cruel, wicked person.

She has to wonder what it is, which of those options, and she tries not to let her mind fixate on that, but after hearing Finnick speak about it, Peggy's back to feeling like the war is still on and she has nothing to do but fight it, all over again. She needs a drink and it's at the meeting that she pours one for herself, trying to figure out her next steps.

It feels like she's sat back for too long, she wants to organize and attack, do something. You can't win a war if you just defend your territory and never go on the offensive. "Something has to change," she murmurs, half to herself, but knowing that she means it with all her heart.

[markwatney]

"Agreed," I say with a slow nod. It's past time to admit to myself that I've been living in a bit of oblivion. Not without reason -- There are more and more people arriving, and I happen to be one of the best-qualified to make sure they all stay fed, to teach them how to feed themselves. But there's a bigger problem here that needs solving, and I haven't been giving it nearly the attention it deserves.

"But we have to be smart about it," I continue. "They're watching us, we know that. They could be watching us right now, for all we know. I don't think it's an accident that we've discovered these pods. This place is too ordered for that. Some of us have been gathering info, but I think bringing all that info together, having an official place to compile and organize what we learn, that would be a good place to start. Start looking for patterns."

Because, what I don't say but what we all surely know, is that sheer force is not going to get us out of here, if it's possible to get out at all.

[womanofvalue]

There's one thing niggling at her thoughts that Peggy is having trouble shedding and Mark has touched on it, briefly. "If they are watching our every movement and this is all some coordinated effort on their part, how can we know that we're not playing exactly into their hand?" Even now, as they speak, how can they know that their plans aren't being scribbled down by eager observers in their own little unseen pod that hasn't been revealed to them.

Patterns, though, would be something for her to sink her teeth into. "I agree one centralized source of information is important," she says, tapping her fingers in absent Morse code, gibberish messages as she just lets her mind ramble forward. The unspoken question, though, is, what about a source of information that they also don't have privy to?

ota

[frankensteinian]

He's heard of town meetings, in places other than this, but never attended one. They had never seemed so vital to survival before. Plus he's already in the inn when the others start gathering and sees no reason not to be there. He wants answers; this is the way to start getting answers. He finds a spot to stay out of the way and expects that others who know more about this place will have more to contribute than he will. But that doesn't mean he can't learn a thing or two.

Then a few words catch his attention. Another observation room. It hadn't taken long after his arrival for him to discover that it's basically a consensus among the group that they're being watched, and now this seems to confirm it for sure.

Unbidden, memories of earlier observation rooms push their way to the front of his mind. Ones at the tops of towers, fitted with guns as if the people they were observing were going to be able to put up a fight of any kind and the men in the rooms were going to be in any kind of real danger. A room behind glass, observing things he'd only wish on his worst enemy (ironic, considering his worst enemy had been on the other side of that glass). He can feel the tattoo on his arm burning again, although it's been there for decades.

Other voices bring him back to what's happening here and now, with effort like that of what it took to climb out of the fountain. Only this time it isn't literal drowning. When he speaks, it's to no one in particular, almost not expecting anyone even to hear and respond.

"Another? There's more than one?"

[candor1]

The man standing closest to him arm-crossedly shrugs, leaning in slightly toward Erik to speak quietly back. (Thinking Erik had been speaking to him—or deciding to seem to.)

"I think there may be another in the Greek ruins. Accounts are vague."

He hadn't gotten to that part of his sweep yet but it had just been pushed higher on his agenda.

He couldn't quite pinpoint what it was about the other man that made him add aloud, "I'm thinking of taking a look there tomorrow."

[frankensteinian]

He hadn't expected anyone to answer, but not that someone has, he'll go with it. "There are Greek ruins?" He hasn't ranged far from the main areas of the town yet. He hasn't found need to, really. There's plenty of firewood to be chopped right near here, after all.

"At the Greek ruins or this new one?"

[00nothing]

Alex is reasonably certain that the man isn't talking to him when he asks, but considering the topic, Alex can't help but answer regardless. "It's not terribly shocking, really." He says with a soft voice and London vowels, his tone contrasting plainly with the furrowed brow and worried frown currently gracing his face.

Because it isn't shocking, not really, and yet Alex still can't figure out whether he's reassured or concerned by all of these building signs of apparent loss of control. Or if he should even trust them.

"Considering the breadth of the operation I've observed so far, there's almost certainly a group of people at work here, not just one." His eyes cut to the side to actually look at his company, and it's a face he's only vaguely familiar with, which at least serves to remind Alex of first impressions and that perhaps attempting to salvage some illusion of being a normal teenager might serve him well here.

He ducks his head and rubs a hand sheepishly against the side of his neck and adds awkwardly, "But what do I know?" With a half-hearted shrug.

[frankensteinian]

"This would be quite a bit of work for one person to do by themselves," he agrees. Which doesn't make it any easier to stomach the idea of multiple people doing this to them. Worse, in fact, because one person is easier to defeat than a group of them.

"If these are empty, and therefore not in use at the moment..."

ota

[seekingcrocodile]

Town meetings are useful, he won't deny that, but just once he wishes that one of them could be because someone's got some good news. The weapons had been, he supposes, or at least they'd been useful. The meetings since then, the ones about strange creatures in the woods, or ruins occupied by what are supposed to be mythical creatures but are now very real, those are the sorts of town meetings he wishes they didn't have to have. When are they going to have a meeting for someone to announce that they've found a way out of this infernal place?

He'd glanced over the makeshift map when he entered the room, noting the landmarks he'd drawn himself, and the familiar ones put there by others, and the new one in the canyon. He'd been all up and down that canyon when working on the map for Peggy, and he knows he hadn't noticed anything there. This is going to be another one of those kinds of meetings, isn't it?

Yes. It is one of those kind of meetings. At this point he's wondering if there will ever be any other kind of meetings. He'll probably swing by the canyon at some point and take a look at this new location himself, or at least talk to the ones who found it. Not right now though. Right now he's still working on his mug of tea (he wishes he had more access to coffee) and settled in his seat at one of the tables. "Do you suppose anyone will ever get to share good news at one of these?"

Monana @ Meeting ~ OTA ~

[chosenbytheocean]

Moana had no idea what was going on but she had followed when she’d heard that there was a meeting. These sorts of meetings were familiar to her though for once she didn’t have to take a role that put her in the center of the room. It was interesting watching from the outside and bit by bit she felt her outlook expanding. Moana found a comfortable place to stand out of the way as Finnick took and spoke. Her eyes moved over the room, catching sight of both new and old faces. She didn’t know if someone was formally in charge in this village but watching gave her an idea of how those around her saw the hierarchy.

The more she listened the more confused she grew. She didn’t know what anyone was talking about and there were pieces that didn’t make sense to her.

The most difficult point of comprehension was that she had no bases of comparison for electricity or metal rooms. She tried to infer but there were to many blank spaces to form a clear picture in her head. The imagines that Finnick showed helped but only a little bit. The other was that the room was abandoned but they called it an observation room, how would they know that for sure? Also how would people use the room? Obviously it wasn’t being used when they found it and they must have found something like this before since no one looked particularly surprised about this news. She tried to understand fully but there were so many threads that didn’t connect in Moana’s thoughts that it just confused her more.

Her brow furrowed as she listened, wondering if this would ever start making sense to her. There was so much that she didn’t know.

OTA

[thenewways]

Nerys is, quite frankly, probably one of the very few people in the village who is not excessively unnerved by the notion that they're being watched, in multiple places and ways. By now, she's spent so much of her life being certain she's under observation that methods of coping are deeply ingrained; it's such a part of everyday Cardassian culture that a ramped up version became omnipresent and essential on Bajor.

Besides, all life on DS9 is constantly observed in certain ways. Life signs, comm badges, transporter logs, even what one drinks at Quark's. It's just all done in an incredibly nice and ostensibly benign Federation way.

Being manipulated, on the other hand, Nerys doesn't appreciate.

She squints at the drawings, after the meeting, and makes a quiet note of where exactly the X is on the curtain map. What's in there interests her far more than the remainder of the process, and either she's going to have to go up there herself or she's going to have to get the full rundown from the Hermit Kids.

Nerys pulls out the makeshift notebook she's made from some of her December gifts and sketches a few notes into it. It's not the first time that she's longed for a tricorder.

graves & credence | ota

[mund]

Village meetings are one of the best places to quietly conduct his investigations. It brings people together -- well, most of them -- and Graves gets to see for himself what the crowd is like, identifying potential individuals of interest, making his own observations.

He does not come alone today (although not necessarily by choice). Credence shadows him, cautious but curious, always a few steps behind, following some sort of directive he's given himself. Graves considers that mildly unsettling, but he's decided that Credence is better off nearby and easier to contain in case the Obscurus that Graves is now entirely sure exists in Credence decides to make an appearance. Easier to contain, with bystanders easier to Obliviate. An Obscurial as powerful as he is would probably take all that Graves has, and even then it would be a gamble -- but it's better than being too far away to do anything.

Graves does not recognize the organizer of the event, although he doesn't miss the spear that sits not too far away from him. Why the man chooses to bring a weapon to a gathering is unknown to him, but he supposes one can't be too careful even in matters like these. However, what snares his attention are the details of the map beside the weapon, the canyon that's carefully, meticulously sketched.

There's something new about this, he overhears, and he glances to Credence briefly. He hasn't been here long enough to notice the difference, but the idea of another observation room, while worthy of investigation, is also equally worthy of caution.

"Is it carelessness," he says out loud to no one in particular. "or a trap?"

[ ooc: feel free to tag in! do let us know if you want graves n credence or just credence or just graves c: ]

both!

[00nothing]

Left to his own devices, Alex probably would have made a point of positioning himself wherever in the room that the man Graves was least likely to spot him, suitably unnerved by their first meeting and the all too familiar air about the man. Just because he's decided to stop pretending that whatever is going on with this place isn't actually his problem, doesn't mean he's in any hurry to replicate the situation he found himself in back in England with Alan Blunt and MI6, after all.

There were limits to foolhardiness, and even Alex has a stronger learning curve than that.

But. Credence is with him. Each new thing Alex manages to learn about Credence has Alex firmly convinced that he's someone that needs to be protected, someone that hasn't had enough protection in the past, or at the very least, not the right sort, and Alex can't help but sympathize with that. Can't seem to just let Credence be. The idea of leaving Credence alone with a man that manages to set all of Alex's nerves on edge without saying a word is unconscionable.

Alex, on the other hand, can handle another Alan Blunt.

Probably.

"That level of carelessness should be more apparent in other places, considering the scope of this place." He says with a frown, arms crossed over his chest and not looking all that pleased to be here, because Alex has honestly never gotten in the habit of hiding just how displeased he was with Blunt at any given time, and he hardly sees the point in learning now. "The amount of planning that had to have gone into everything here... it's hard to imagine them missing something so obvious." He adds with a shrug. "Trap feels like a bit of a strong word, though."

casually waits for new ac period for those sweet sweet bonus points

[repressings]

"Alex," Credence murmurs, and it's low and barely audible. He's unsure who Graves does and doesn't know, and is quietly telling him who he is from his spot behind him. He supposes it looks strange, like a personal assistant reminding their boss of facts that may slip their mind.

Everything about this is strange and unusual and odd. Including the events, of course. Credence twists his hands, fidgeting slightly, and as soon as he catches himself doing it he places one of his hands in his overalls pockets. Long fingers curl over the necklace he'll probably never wear again, but he finds comforting nonetheless.

"You think it was an accident, then?"

graves please!

[fishermansweater]

The man who'd come in with Credence is a new face: middle-aged, stern-faced, a confidence in his bearing that's easily apparent to someone who's practiced at sizing people up from the way they carry themselves. That was a skill Finnick learned to survive not in the wilds of the arena, but of the Capitol, where he was completely in the power of the men and women who'd bought him. He'd learned to see a patron's power reflected in their behavior long before they could turn it on him.

There's enough of that utter self-assurance that influence brings in the way the man stands to make Finnick wary, but the question is a good one, and it's a relief, albeit small, to hear someone voice Finnick and Annie's own fears about the place. So much of what they've said based on their own experiences, the cautions they'd had to use just to stay alive in Panem, has been dismissed by the people here.

"We found no obvious signs of a trap."

The words are carefully chosen, and Finnick turns his bright green gaze onto the man, studying him with a cool, even stare. Seeing no signs of a trap doesn't mean there isn't one, and he wants to know if the man recognizes that's what he's saying.

"Perhaps the earthquake wasn't meant to expose it," he admits. He's seen that before, though he doesn't look at Annie, who is living confirmation of just that sort of carelessness in the Games. "I'd advise caution."

[mund]

The man before Graves is young, handsome in a way that suggests his awareness of it -- the spear is an interesting touch, and he wonders if he knows just how to wield it, if his livelihood at some point depended on his skill with the hunt (or perhaps it's a war?). This one is another he would have to pay special attention to, he notes, and naturally, he understands what goes unsaid.

Just because there are no obvious signs doesn't mean it's not there, and he simply nods, meeting his gaze steadily. Graves is not interested in lording anything over anyone; his driven, wary and vigilant nature eschews the inelegance of ego-boosting displays -- they are a waste of time, and in this situation, are completely unnecessary. They are not at cross-purposes, inasmuch as he can deduce, and perhaps they can even work together.

"Perhaps." Another man who knows the value of caution and who can potentially view any accident as suspect and deliberate, Graves can appreciate. He looks back at the map, studying it with care. Graves doesn't venture an opinion, not yet -- he would rather prefer taking the measure of the person before him first. "What plan of action are you suggesting?"

any combo that works IC or for you guys

[3ofswords]

His posture is a bit better today, for the fact that leaning against a wall forces one straighter than sprawling in a chair. It's nothing to do with boredom, feigned or real: he's paying attention, through the gentle wash of emotion that is its own kind of noise, its own kind of space-taking force.

Kira wasn't shy of the spotlight: crowds without his wards just gave him a headache, and he had his own fear to deal with underneath it.

He's surprisingly close to Graves when the man speaks, for lack of trying to be. While the man has found a way to appear semi-put together in his canyon-issue clothes, Kira could never fare so well. He's a different kind of shadow from Credence: his scrubs have faded from their deep black in their month of near constant wear, and the waist of his scrubs worn out until it slipped down his hips, exposing the greying thermals underneath.

And yet, his sloppiness has nothing to do with his attention, or the thought behind the answer: "Do we really have a choice to ignore it, if it is? Surely we have enough numbers by now to risk looking into things."

[repressings]

Credence knows Kira well, and there's a small, faint flicker of a smile as he talks to Graves. It's odd--it makes him nervous, like neither would approve of the other. Probably because they won't.

It's also absurd. Credence doesn't trust Graves in the least, even though he desperately wants to, and Kira he trusts completely even though he's not sure how. The whole situation feels surreal, like an out of body experience that leaves him with a bit of a headache forming at the base of his skull.

Credence glances at Graves, as if asking permission, before speaking:

"What happens if they don't like us snooping around?" He says quietly. What happens if they punish us?

ivan v. | ota

[middling]

As the man in charge of writing things down, Ivan has the overturned table on its side and chalk in hand by the time the meeting begins. Every time someone brings up a point, he makes a note of it -- handsome face contorting hilariously with the really outlandish and dangerous details. He hasn't forgotten the giant fuzzy creature brought in the last time -- and in fact has made a note of it this time. It simply reads have we forgotten something's trying to eat us at the top. Just in case.

Nothing about this has made him feel safe -- not that he had thanks to his arrival. But the idea that he's being watched is damn well unnerving. Barrayar, with its blood politics, is starting to feel a lot safer to Ivan. Which is saying something -- he never thought he'd miss it. But at least there he knew how things worked, how to survive. Here Ivan is beginning to think that whatever worked for him back home wasn't going to cut it here. But what would? Something for him to find out, he supposed.

Traditionally, Ivan doesn't offer any opinions of his own during these meetings. He doesn't have any, would be his counterargument. But this time he does. "I don't suppose it's too much to ask that it's an observation room for studying, I don't know, the wildlife?" He knows it's not, but he thought he'd ask anyway. Just in case.