Action - Second Arena

[actually112]

Who: Aang and YOU
Broadcast: No
Action: Iskaulit
When: During the drift

[Aang has spent the last three weeks or so on 24/7 alert, hiding out in the desert and then hiding out in the trees and air ducts of the Iskaulit, waiting for some catastrophe that hasn't happened. It's driving him nuts. Is that what the Capitol is trying to do? Make him go crazy from paranoia?

Well, he knows the Capitol. He knows how to provoke them. If he does something really crazy, they'll retaliate, and at least he won't have to put up with this tension anymore. If there's no retaliation, then maybe, just maybe, the Capitol isn't as involved in this as he thinks.

He picks a lovely spot on the Iskaulit--out of the way, separate from the hustle and bustle of the most frequented areas, but still public and accessible. He carries out paint, rollers, brushes, and sets himself up like he's going to paint the walls.

Which is exactly what he does. He paints down a white undercoat in record time with the help of waterbending and airbending. Then he has a pencil, and he starts sketching out the bare bones of what he will paint. He blocks out the twelve different sections he wants to make, and then he starts writing.

He writes names. Name after name after name in each section, so many that Aang needs to balance on a ball of churning air to write them at the top of this planned mural. Each name is carefully, lovingly written, given the amount of respect and grace it deserves.

There are exactly 1,747 names. They are the names he memorized for his televised rebellion against the Capitol. They are the names of all of the Districter children who died in the Hunger Games.

Aang is tense as he writes, constantly aware of who is around him and what might happen, but his expression is stern and his mouth is fixed in grim determination. Come at him, Capitol.]

[OOC: Since The Games had lots of people AU'd in from other canons, feel free to assume that a name from your canon is up there if you like.]

Comments

[alwayscomeback]

[Sokka's forge is on the Iskaulit, so he's always moving back and two between the Blue Fish and there, especially during a Drift. When he comes across Aang, the work is well underway. He's learned not to approach the same way he would normally with Aang- instead keeping his distance and making sure Aang was aware of his presence. No sneaking up. ]

Those are a lot of names. What's that about?

[actually112]

[Aang still has... complicated feelings about 'Sokka' and 'Katara', but it's obvious that they're both trying to make him comfortable, and he does appreciate it even as he struggles with the fact that he needs to be 'made comfortable' in the first place.

He at Sokka and forces a smile, trying to project cheer even as his task feels less like art and more like undertaking.]

I'm just checking to see who's watching. [Aang waves his pencil around, gesturing at all the cameras that are probably surrounding them now, even if they can't see any.] If the Capitol is in control, then they're going to attack me really soon.

[alwayscomeback]

[Sokka glances up at the cameras which are there but invisible to them. He almost corrects Aang- but honestly, whatever Aang has been through, who is he to say its not something Atroma would do, too. If he had watchers for his experience, the likelihood of them being one and the same is pretty high.

He looks back at the names.]

Solid plan. These Capitol guys must have been real pieces of work, huh?

[actually112]

Yeah.

[Aang avoids looking at Sokka. He doesn't really want to see how Sokka looks at him while he talks about this kind of thing, so he focuses instead on writing the names. He's meditated on these names for a long time, trying to remember them all, and it takes concentration to remember so many names.]

I got them really angry last time I wrote these names on TV.

[searingedgelord]

[Velvet really doesn't understand what all this is about aside from the vague things Aang said when they first met. But from her perspective this kid is clearly a delinquent. And honestly, she respects that.]

Thanks for not doing this on the Red Fish.

[She likes to keep the ship clean, ok. But vandalism in general is fine.]

[actually112]

[Oh hey, it's this one again. Aang does his best to smile at her, but it's a little hard when he's writing down the names of nearly two thousand dead children.]

No, I wanted this to be public. Not enough people go to the Red Fish.

[searingedgelord]

[It’s okay, she doesn’t seem to be expecting smiles. She glances over the mural thoughtfully.]

Yeah, vandalism is best done in public, I guess.

[poisontippedcure]

[Undoetunately for Aang, the day he decides to start on the mural is the day that Rose decides to visit the Iskaulit's garden. Despite being one of the bigger ships in the Fleet, it's still rather small, and it doesn't take Rose long to find her crew mate.]

[First theft, now vandalism? Not a great record.]

[She approaches Aang cautiously, remembering how easily he was scared before. Even if she's unhappy, it's clear that she isn't angry. At least, she hopes it is.]

What are you doing?

[actually112]

[It seems like people are learning to approach him slowly and while making it clear they're coming, which Aang appreciates. And of course, the answer to her question is 'Seeing if I can provoke the hostile dictatorship into killing me again', but that seems like the kind of thing that Aang shouldn't say.]

I'm checking who's watching.

[He angles himself so he can keep writing names and see Rose at the same time.]

I'm going to make a mural. [Assuming he's not killed within the next hour.]

[poisontippedcure]

The only person watching you right now is me.

[And the viewers. But it would probably be a bad idea to mention that right now, considering the state he already seems to be in.]

I can see that you're making a mural. Is there a reason you're doing so by vandalizing the walls of the Iskaulit?

[samahl]

[Cyril knows that the most of the time, when someone writes names in a public space it's usually in memoriam, so he pauses and looks at the names before looking at the one painting them.]

What's this? [He asks with his tone carefully sympathetic.]

[actually112]

It's going to be a mural.

[Assuming Aang isn't struck down for even going this far, though he would have expected the Capitol to jump on this a little faster.

It doesn't occur to Aang that the man is asking him about what the names are. So far, most people have been more concerned by the action of drawing rather than what he's actually writing.]

I need to sketch out what it'll be before I use the nice paint for it.

[samahl]

[Cyril nods at that.]

Could you use some help? I, um, I may not be as talented at this sort of thing as others, but I manage.

[He pauses for a moment, as he considers the half of his arm that is a prosthetic. He has a long tunic on, but the more that Aang speaks with him the more it might be clear he is missing most of one of his limbs. The prosthetic has vines painted along the fingers and top of the palm that he did himself.]

If nothing else I can pass you things so when you're at the high levels you don't have to keep coming down to get the paints.

[watermarks]

[ It would be fair to say that Katara is on the Iskaulit at least once a day, usually in the evening to check on her garden and practice her bending. As such, Aang's probably close to done when she starts heading down the hall...? ]

[actually112]

[Aang has almost finished writing down all the names in pencil. He's had to stop to go over the names in his head a few times, and he will have to go back over it all with paint once he's finished penciling out the design. Not that he will finish that for a while. The names are only part of the design.

When he notices Katara approaching, he doesn't pause in his work, but he does turn to wave at her and offer a smile, though it is somewhat forced due to the solemnity of his task.]

Hi, Katara.

[watermarks]

[She smiles when she sees him as well, and it's a real one... until it slides right off when she notices his tension.] Hey, Aang. I was hoping I'd run into you today.

[On the planet, she'd made a point of visiting him once a day even after she'd stopped camping out with him. Because... he was Aang and she wanted to see him, first, and equally important although entirely separate in priority - she was concerned for him. The ships made things... stranger. She was still getting used to how this whole 'drifting' thing worked.

She glances from him to the wall, and her eyes widen as she sees the pencil work.]

Wow. This is amazing.

[And somehow, intrinsically, sad.]

[sizeofyourbaggage]

[ Honestly, Sam is planning on turning around the moment he sees Aang. It's nothing against him, it's just - it won't be the Aang he knew back in the Capitol, and he's not sure he can handle another double right now. He doesn't want to pretend like he doesn't know him, doesn't care about him, and he's not up for answering any questions about how.

But then he sees the names.

Sam was in District 13 when Aang pulled his rebellion, but he'd still seen it - and there's no one else who'd know those names but someone who's from Panem.

He moves forward, without quite consciously deciding to. ]

Little bird?

[actually112]

[Aang had the same strategy in mind. He's seen from the vents many people he recognizes, but none of them seem to behave like they're in an arena, so he's been reluctant to approach any of them. He doesn't want to get more looks of pity and more insistences that they aren't in Panem.

He's aware of Sam there. He does his best to pretend he doesn't see him, not wanting to deal with talking to someone who he knows but has to act like he doesn't.

So it's a surprise when Sam says that.

Aang jumps with a surprised yelp. He reels back, forgetting his work momentarily to face Sam instead, staying outside of arm's reach just in case this is a trick.

He blinks owlishly, taking in the Sam in front of him.]

Big bird?

[sizeofyourbaggage]

[ It is him. There's a part of him that knows it's a little bit awful, but damn is Sam glad to see him.

Both because it means he knows Aang is okay - as okay as any of them can be, when at best they've been pulled from Panem to star in a whole new reality show - and because it means there's someone else here who understands the Capitol. ]

You trying to draw them out?

[ An idea that sets Sam a little bit on edge, like pinpricks on the back of his neck from an unseen gaze, but it's brave. Brave and terrifying and smart and stupid and maybe a little bit necessary. He never got the chance to tell Aang what he thought of it the first time around, but it sticks in his throat now - the remnants of the Capitol's fingers in his mind. ]

[scanninggaydis]

[This is...a dishearteningly familiar sight for Felix. A metal hallway, a memorial to the dead. Or at least that's what he assumes when he passes down this side hallway.

It's not an exact replica of the one on Galactica. There were never just names. There were pictures and mementos and letters, yes. But it's still recognizable for what it is. And those are...a lot of names. Felix stands back with his hands in his pockets, watching the writing. After a few long moments, he speaks up.]

A memorial?

[It's not actually a question, in his mind. But it's easier than the actual question which is: how? How did they die?]

[actually112]

[This is the first person to call it what it is off the bat. Aang steps back for a moment to look at all the names, let the sheer enormity of what he's memorializing crash over him. He makes sure to stay out of arm's reach, but he nods slowly.]

Yeah. These are all the Districters who lost the Hunger Games.

[scanninggaydis]

[Felix makes absolutely no attempt to draw any closer to Aang, so staying out of arm's reach isn't really an issue. In fact, he leans up against the far wall, letting his eyes rove over the names again. It's not the scale of loss he's used to, but it's certainly not insignificant.]

...The hunger games?

[That sounds immediately less than pleasant]

[hollowvictor]

[Bucky wasn't exactly thrilled to be wandering around these ships, but the Iskaulit was about as useful as it was unnerving. It was huge, but with being huge, that meant it had places to tuck away and hide. He'd been setting up his stockpiles before they left the planet, so now he just had to make sure they were secure. At least the weapons Winter had provided him gave him a certain amount of security. If anything did try and attack, he'd be able to fight back.

As he came around a corner to one of the less-traversed areas (a perfect spot for one of his caches, as it happened) he was startled to a stop by seeing Aang...writing on the walls? With paint...this felt familiar. How many small acts of rebellion had been carried out similarly?

Bucky came closer, not too fast and deliberate to keep his steps heavy enough to be heard and looked over the names. He recognized all of them, from reading or hearing about them if not by seeing them himself. Reruns of arenas had been popular during the off seasons, but some of those names on the walls were never mentioned again. The cornucopia slaughter had often taken their memory; too many dead too quickly to be worth mentioning. Until now.]

...What are you doing?

[He'd meant to ask it before he had an idea and he'd meant to ask it casually, like maybe what he was doing didn't matter in case anyone was watching who might take offense, Capitol or not. What came out was something mixed between choked surprise and a touch of awe.

Why would anyone care enough to do something like this? And an offworlder, too.]

[actually112]

[Aang is aware of Bucky before he speaks, which is why he doesn't startle. But he does stop his work to look at him, because out of anyone in this place, James is the one with the most right to these names. Aang should look James in the eye when he talks about it.]

I thought if the Capitol is watching, we'll know pretty soon.

And if they're not...

[Aang looks at all the names, now towering above him, so numerous that he doesn't really know how he managed to remember them all.]

They deserve something better. They deserve to be remembered.

[hollowvictor]

They do.

[He's still quiet, still in awe as he steps closer to read over everything. His eyes catch on names he knows better than the rest, the ones from his own arena. He forced himself to rewatch and to dig through files until he remembered even the ones he'd never talked to or hadn't even killed himself, but that number was fewer than the ones in the opposite category. He'd killed twelve.

His eyes and thoughts froze as he found her name, the girl from District 10. Megan. Fifteen. He'd tried so hard to protect her, he'd grown up knowing her and her parents and her siblings and he couldn't kill her, not even for how strongly he refused to accept defeat. Maybe he should have, maybe it should have been a friend instead of- her throat slit, face bloated and distorted from being left face-down in one of the water-filled holes. He'd only been gone for a few hours. Gone hunting. Hunting other children. He should have stayed-]

She liked daisies. She'd put them in her hair in the summer. She had a way with horses that rivaled anyone else in the district. You should have heard her laugh- [He smiled to himself.] It..it was horrible. She did this snort thing.