Transgressions within the Transmissions
In the eyes and ears of The Capitol, Cinna begins to fade away like a distant memory. Or at least by Day 50, few speak publicly about the stylist anymore. The air retreats to normalcy, like war isn't impending outside of city boarders. Social events, the avant-garde attire, and the latest gossip flow once again. Though nothing can be as normal as it seems.
By Day 58, propos seem to be targeting holos nonstop. Those that continue Panem's traditionalist messages are not uncommon to be seen. However, it's the infiltration of Rebellion propos that might turn an eye or two. The occurrence had not gathered attention from credible news channels nor the incredible Caesar Flickerman - that was until one saw its way for Peeta Mellark's interview. The following are just a few experiences within the last week regarding sudden propo infiltration amongst those residing in The Capitol.
Domitila viewed Effie Trinket's Pro-Rebel propo
as the images flicker through the screen, domitila's pose falters. thankfully, the woman on the footage is also hesitating, which gives domitila a moment to try and pick at details to figure out who the person is — it comes with some struggle as all she can see is the drab greys, the lifeless hair do, the paleness of the figure. in all of her years, she has never seen someone looking so ghastly (thea ellis does not count) and the stylist's gaze goes from inquisitive to scornful as the appearance and the words fit together, such opposites to the very woman she knew: effie trinket, always so eye-catching, yet so in tune with everything of the capitol. a scoff leaves domitila's lips. how self-righteous of the darling miss trinket. "one would think she did not parade with all that the capitol has to offer with a ready smile on her face." anyone who is anybody has seen effie around the parties once she finally got a chance to rise the ladder, squawking around her poor excuse for victors. how she had loathed the woman and all who accompanied them, who had robbed her tributes the chance for a real victory. panem certainly deserves better. it deserves better than someone who is so volatile they'd hop to another side — and not even a good one. "look at her face!" obviously, this is an important point. how can anyone in their right mind present themselves so poorly?!
Lyah Yazbek viewed Sterling Whitvale's Pro-Rebel propo
A mid-morning talk show had been playing when it happened; some renowned Capitol chef walking the audience through decadent new dish he had developed only for the feed to cut to a shaky frame of a familiar face. Lyah had never met Sterling, but all her years of catching reruns of Waking Up with the Whitvales and flipping through magazine spreads ensured she knew his face. He looked tense, nervous even, however, his gruff voice still managed a tender note as he recounted the finer details of his first encounter with Cecelia. For a moment she debated reaching for the remote and shutting it off, but something about the softness in the man’s eyes and sincerity in his voice kept her watching. She couldn’t look away. The whole thing is over just as quick as it started. Sterling finishes the anecdote by saying he “wouldn’t change a goddamn thing about it,” and the screen cuts back to two rather distraught looking anchors. Lyah suddenly wished she had had the strength to change the channel or turn it off entirely. Was it supposed to hurt? It had been far from the first time the rebels had managed to disrupt Capitol broadcast, but it had been so different. Instead of exploiting yet another victor-turned-victim, this had been just a man proclaiming the love he had for his wife. It didn’t make sense. What were the rebels doing? Trying to paint themselves as innocent? To humanize themselves? Whatever they were trying to do, it gave her a headache. Lyah reached for the remote sitting on the marble-topped coffee table sitting before her and the screen went dark. She sat silently for a moment, unable to redirect herself as she replayed it all in her mind again and again until a thought came to her. When the rebels had access to all those victor, including Cecelia, a woman known in the Capitol for her beauty and poise, why had they chosen Sterling?
Tiberius Germaine viewed Lyah Yazbek's Pro-Capitol propo
His thumb freezes over the piece of sheet music, fingers falling still over the keys of his piano, music falling silent as the viewing screen in his sitting area springs to life. Blue eyes shift to the screen, his body turning to face the screen as the clips plays. Tiberius recognizes the woman, of course he does. Lyah, a victor from District Five. He didn't know her well though. The clip is short and just as quickly as it had appeared on his viewing screen, the screen is black again. He stares at the dimmed screen for several seconds, did she really believe that the rebels would be welcomed back with open arms? She was naive if she did. Anyone who was associated with the rebellion would undoubtably be killed possibly after torture if the Capitol were to come out victorious in this war. He sighs, the piano forgotten as he stands from the bench. His hand is run over the top of his head, anxious habit from a time in which he'd had hair. Things are getting worse and now the Capitol seems to be trying to lay traps. Come home darlings, we'll let you back in with open arms. There's room for you still. Yea right. It's more likely to be a ruse, call the rebels back to the Capitol to face another mass execution. He wonders if Lyah realizes this, possibly, but of course again she could be naive enough to believe it.
Xiomara Pena viewed Cadence Kentwell's Pro-Rebel propo
She was still in bed (Domi would surely have something to say if she could see Xio now), when someone's voice echoed through her otherwise empty apartment asking a question about the rebellion and Cadie? The brunette's brow crinkled and she rolled out of bed, leaving her blankets hanging half off her bed and grabbing a small butterfly knife off the top of a dresser. Rebellion? She was no rebel. And she was certainly no friend of Cadie. How had they gotten into her apartment? A long moment of silence followed the question and it was only as Xio came into the living room that she realized this was a recording. She scoffed, leaning over the couch and reaching for the remote for the television. But then Cadie began to speak. Xio listened incredulously. "You act like you're the only one who's lost loved ones to the Games." She muttered angrily, ignoring the fact she might feel the same if Aléjandra had ever volunteered. "That doesn't give you a reason to rebel. Clove wouldn't want this, you... a rebel. And you act as if... as if you didn't enjoy the parties and extravagance." She realizes she's talking to a recording, Cadie can't hear her. Her words are wasted. Fuck this. She tries to hit the power button, but the screen stays on so she launched the knife in her hand at it, watching as the blade embedded into the device and the screen shattered. She'd just buy a new one. But she would not listen to the nonsense the rebellion had drilled into the woman she'd at one time considered almost a friend.
Sarah Kline viewed Finnick Odair's Pro-Rebel propo
Her mascara wand halted mid air as a familiar voice echoed against the walls of her apartment. Blue eyes shifted subtly so her gaze could go to the source of the sound. Finnick. Lonely. He mentioned loneliness and complexity. A lack of preparation. Sarah knew for a fact that was a lie. There was no loneliness for Finnick Odair. Not when he was surrounded by the adoring people of the Capitol. And he was prepared. How could he not be with the amount of pr that was arranged for him. Sarah had tried to ignore the murder part. She had tried to swallow back any and all doubts that might linger in the back of her head. Suppress the sting of betrayal she had felt. Not necessarily because they had lied to her, but because she was left in the dark. Because she hadn't belonged. Because she was not part of the team, despite her many efforts. She continued to listen to his words and her own thoughts of protest got cleared to the background. Her mind went to those subtle moments of resistance. When he needed convincing. His expression when he thought no one was looking at him. Sarah had caught it before. Had dismissed it as stubbornness or even arrogance. It was what she had concluded it to be when he betrayed her the way he had. Lashes fluttered shut, she sniffled and softly cleared her throat. "Manipulating. Manipulator - I am being manipulated." She sucked in some air, paused and exhaled. Elbow rested on her vanity and her palm pressed against her brow in defeat; careful to avoid the recently applied make up. Blues shifted back to her reflection. "It's all fake."
With no end to the Rebellion in sight, the prevalence of propos occuring is likely to increase. Information is power. It is on the residents of The Capitol to decide whether what's being aired is true or not. And if they find themselves siding with the rebel forces, then they can only hope to have a better fate than Cinna.
With our Mockingjay era plot drops, these will be similar to the Claudius and Caesar updates. You are absolutely welcome to write a self-para or actively do threads in relation to this plot drop! If you choose to roleplay this on the dash, please tag your threads with both #eventideevent04 as well as #eventidetwtt. Our players are now welcome to play through day fifty-eight.
This plot drop does not effectively pause time in the roleplay. It does however signify that we are getting closer to the rescue mission in this era. Happy roleplaying and thank you for your patience!