TEAM 13: DISTRICT 4
Percy : Garin
The Shuffle to the Rooms
The Capitol was built off of the concept of irreverent opulence.
Percy had never seen anything like it.
New and fascinating technologies were embedded into just about everything, everywhere. Nearly every step brought one into contact with something which would never exist within the Districts in any form—not even within government mansions, or Peacekeeper barracks. Even though he was ready to bet that at least 90% of all inventions originated from District 3, the only place they'd see the light of day was here, among the bright lights and pristine floors that most would never see.
The styles of the Capitol were District-originated as well. It was in District 1's best interest for the fads and trends that dominated the Capitol to do so as totally and briefly as possible; Percy still remembered realizing this during the Games when he was seven: the first style, based in white and glitter and softness, had disappeared by the time of the interviews, replaced instead by truly obscene amounts of color and a sudden fascination with hats. That trend, too, was gone by the time the Games drew to a close: that year's victor was a District 1 Greek history buff, so by the time she was giving her interview everyone was dressing in Ancient Greek-inspired dresses and cloaks.
Basically anything that could be important was new, was gleaming, was unusual and busy and many-faceted.
In sharp contrast, the parts of the city that were built to last, that were harder to send in the latest models of, that were services rather than goods? They were draped, unfailingly, in tradition.
Every interaction one Capitol citizen had with another, had with an avox, even had with a tribute was done in an almost rehearsed way.
Percy grew up as a pureblood, and he worked in the Ministry for several years before the institution fell.
He'd thought he knew the extent of any form of communication that propriety could determine.
He was wrong.
Forget rules for greeting each other, rules for how one should stand, rules for eye contact, rules for bringing up a new topic, rules for ending a conversation...
It took Percy all of ten minutes of watching the Capitol before it became clear that, for all that it wasn't necessarily obvious, that many whole, long conversations were all-but-predetermined.
Oh, it wasn't like the customs he was used to. The interactions between the avox and the Capitol were much more like that; the sort of visible deference he was used to between someone seen as lower and their 'superior'.
Among the Capitol, however, it was clear that two competing forces had shaped their interactions: the propaganda that they had a birthright to a better life, one magnitudes better than anything a district could offer, and the clear social classes that were likely intentionally cultivated over time; all the better to rule over.
In the Capitol the way an inferior may respond to a superior might seem disrespectful; the liberties they took and the assumptions they made might seem to bely etiquette, but it was there nonetheless.
As Percy and the other District 4 tributes were shuffled into the elevator Percy watched with interest as Gorgeous Dew (their escort) nearly bumped into Fuzzy Glow, the escort for District 12.
"Oh, silly me!" Fuzzy Glow laughed. "I've been all over the place, you know, what with my tributes being... well. Anyway, I managed to catch your Reaping on the train. You were brilliant!"
"Oh, of course, of course." Gorgeous Dew replied. "But then, I've had a lot of practice—you've just started last year, haven't you? Anyhow, I must admit that it was my fault entirely, so I deeply apologize. Now, I'm in a bit of a rush, but we'll have to catch up some time later!"
Fuzzy, as the inferior, had taken the blame first, but had not apologized because he didn't think he was at fault; he'd then made his inferiority clear (by deliberately mentioning how his tributes were considered lesser than hers) without complaining too much, followed by a compliment.
Gorgeous, as the superior, responded in reverse order: she first took the compliment and used it to reiterate their positions, before admitting fault and apologizing (as the one in the wrong) and ending the conversation. They probably didn't know each other well: Gorgeous had had two (relatively) similarly interactions with other escorts so far, and in one she offered up a specific time and in the other a much broader but still specific span.
"In the compartment, kiddies!" Gorgeous said, turning to them at last.
Only Caine (the fifteen year-old pickpocket) was still outside the car, but that didn't stop her from spending a few seconds herding him (without touching, of course) into the elevator, just to make sure all of them were continuing to do as they were told.
Merlin, he hated this place.