.o.O. An Introduction .O.o.
Welcome to the Capitol, the heart of the Panem nation, a marvel of civil engineering. The entire city gleams like a huge gem of glass and steel. Super structures reach to the sky like the huge, smooth-sided nests of termite mounds. Walkways span between the crystal towers, interlocking the city as tree branches do in a forest. It's been said, and proven that a man may walk the entire length of the city, from East to West, without once having to set foot on the clean, streets below.
Instead he may walk along the many skywalks travelling from tower to tower, as a spider travels across his web. Not that he would know what a spider looks like, in this clean, vermin-free city. Unless he decided to visit the specimens living in one of the many covered roof-top gardens. Many people do, taking the silent, efficient elevators up to the top-most parts of the city to enjoy the melting rainbow of a sunset. The colours dance along the towers, painting the crystal city brilliant colours that are simply stunning. And should they continue to watch the city, as the last rays of daylight fade, they'd witness the night life of the city come alive.
As the automated environmental systems prevent the insides of the buildings from cooling below anything less than lukewarm and pump filtered air into the buildings, the visitor may see the lights of the city drown out the light of the stars. The buildings glow with lights, and screens with luminescent advertisements. Smiling Capitol Citizens drinking various new drinks, donning the latest fashions. Smiling at the people below, with bright eyes, hair and, at times, skin, looking for all the world like preening birds.
Walking under the lights, and through the rainbows cast by the screens of the various advertising stations, the Citizens of the Capitol walk on through the bright lights. From the view given by the tallest building in the city, their bright clothes and colourings cause them to look like huge garish coloured wasps.
Above them, a spider watches.
He stands in the roof-top garden on the Central Tower of the Capitol. In this city of lights, sounds and colour, he is its shadow. The spider of the city's web. The garden in which he stands is dark, though the light from the rest of the city dances along the floor through the glass roof. All that can be seen of him is a shadow, a dark outline of a man facing the window, hands behind his back, watching the city in relaxed meditation.
There is a musical flute that echoes behind him, as the elevator doors open. Golden light's shed as a rectangle on the floor, before the passenger walks out and the doors close. The garden thrown into near-darkness once more as the newcomer walks with a straight-postured purpose towards the shadowed man.
"Madam Gothel, you're late." A silky voice greeted the woman. The man half-turned to face her, the shadows still hiding his features.
"I'm never late. You're just ridiculously early." Sniffed the straight-backed woman.
The bright flashing of an advertisement shone on shark-like teeth in a sneer. "An old excuse Gothel. Though I suppose I shouldn't really be that surprised."
Gothel bristled at the subtle insult. "You're one to talk!" She snapped.
The shadowed man shrugged half-heartedly. "Touche. But we did not come here to discuss the 'Good Ol' Days,' such as they may be." He turned to face 'Madam Gothel' fully, hands still clasped behind his back. "No, I've requested your presence on far more pressing concerns."
The woman known as Madam Gothel raised an eyebrow at her partner's choice of words. "Get to the point already Pitch."
Gold eyes flashed in the dark. "Of course, straight to business. I'm sure that you're aware that we have a new ..." The man known as Pitch paused, looking for the correct term, "... colleague who shall be working with us this ... season." The lights gleamed on another unnerving smile of half-shadowed teeth.
Madam Gothel's grey eyes narrowed at the shadow man. "Working with you. I'm mentoring this year. Someone tipped off the Fat Cat. I'm not overseeing the Arena this year." There was an under-current of unspoken anger in her tone. She could feel her hands clenching into fists at her sides. Meanwhile her 'collegue was buffing his nails on his suit with an air of nonchalance.
"And who would ever do a thing like that?" The faint light outlined a smirk in the corner of Pitch's mouth. Gothel opened her mouth to, possibly snap at him, Pitch cut across her before she could. "No Gothel, working with us, I've seen to that." The dancing lights shone on a pair of gleaming yellow eyes narrowed in irritation, "Though he is more likely to work against us." Both hands were behind his back once again.
"It's a definite 'fly in the ointment,' so to speak."
Gothel crossed her arms. "Speak plainly Pitch, you didn't call me all the way up here just to tell me that you don't like the 'New Kid' so to speak." The shadows still prevented her from seeing her ally's features, but she knew him well enough to imagine the smirk as she parroted his words back at him.
"Certainly. This year's tributes," an imagined sneer, "our very ... selective tributes, I need you to keep an eye on them. I need you to make sure that they'll fail."
His answer puzzled Gothel. "Which one?"
"All of them."
This answer was no clearer than the last. "I don't follow."
Pitch sighed, as if put upon, and raised his hands to massage his temples. "Really Gothel, I thought you'd be smarter than this."
"These half-evasive answers are not helping anyone Pitch. Give me an actual instruction, not a half-baked metaphor."
Pitch paused in his activity to eye roll. "Being direct is dangerous in a land where walls have ears. You run the risk of being over heard."
Gothel raised an eyebrow, her arms still crossed, her hip swung to the side. "And being cryptic with your allies is not? You run the risk of being misunderstood." Gothel's eyes narrowed, "You know as well as I do that there are no ears here, you've cut them of." Her face relaxed into a smirk, "But only after I found them."
Pitch laughed a humorless laugh. He half turned to face the city once again. "Yes ... I suppose you are correct." Pitch bowed his head in thought, then turned his head so that his gold eyes met Gothel's grey ones. "Alright, just this once I'll be frank with you." He turned his back to Gothel to face the city and watch as the 'garishly coloured wasps' buzzed about their mundane lives. When he spoke again, his back as still to Gothel, but his voice carried across the room to Gothel so that she could hear it as if he was whispering in her ear. She repressed a shiver.
"Among this year's tributes there will be two who will attempt to stand against what the Games stand for. They will attempt to unite the other districts, to rise for a common cause." Pitch paused, the next line came as an almost serpent-like hiss;
"They must fail."
Madam Gothel could not quite hide the shudder that the shadow man couldn't possibly see. Nevertheless, Pitch Black smirked at the advertisements turning off in front of him, the Captitol seal taking its place.
"But for that to happen, they need to survive long enough to try, to fail."
The Capitol Anthem began to play throughout the city as the seal changed scene to images of children, of blood, of battle ...
"That's where you come in my dear."
Of the Hunger Games.
A musical flute announces the return of the elevator. Pitch turns to Madam Gothel, the light from the screens and city, dancing in his eyes and off his shark-like grin. "Good luck."
Madam Gothel walks back to the elevator, the butter yellow light catching her deep, black curly hair, and shimmering on her blood red dress as she turned to face the closing doors. Between them she saw the Capitol's Spider face her. His form a shadow, the lights of the city dancing around his dark form. The hiss of the closing doors sounds like the hiss of his last words.
"May the odds be ever in your favour."
.o.O.O.o.
Author's Note
So, I caved in. Yep! After, what? Nearly three long years of total silence, I'm finally back with this little beauty. This will be my first crossover, and I am going to stick this one out for once. Consider this "chapter" a little warm up before I actually start typing out this story for real.
This, I suppose, you could call a Big Four crossover. I do have a vague idea about where I want to take it. (What it this "Plah-Ning" that you speak of? I've never heard it before in my life) And yes, people are going to die. I'm not going to sugar-coat that little piece of information. There will only be one winner. Perhaps I'll start up a poll for people to send sponsorships to their favourite character. I already know who I want to win in this contest, and am already planning some lovely little deaths. (Sorry Jack Frost fans! ... Actually no, I'm really not.)
This fanfic will also be posted on my Tumblr account, going by the name 'Anyelse' which I am going to change my Fanfiction name to. I'll be like the pheonix, and rise again out of the old ashes. Mwah ha ha ha ha ha!
Leave some money in the tin. (Or reviews in that lovely little box. I need to know what I'm doing wrong, or right. I can't tell what that is unless you lovelies tell me. 'Cause I'm quite redundant like that!)
'Till next time,
Mmmmmmm-Chi-
Er ... I mean,
Anyelse.
P.S. This Fic will not be a priority. I'm only writing it because I'm in the middle of some quite pressing tests at the moment, and am only using this to stop myself from going insane with the stress. Isn't that right purple-people-eater-who-is-currently-hanging-out-i n-my-wardrobe?
