An Appeal For Destruction {Quint}

[ja'mie]

S e p h

The apathetic one.

Seph gritted her teeth as she poured the dangerous liquid into an old plastic bottle she had found laying around in one of the many crumbling D13 houses.

Hydrochloric Acid. Highly corrosive. And she loved it.

It flowed slowly, but she kept her hand steady, as she could not afford to let any drip out. She only had a limited amount of the stuff... And she wasn't up to date on whether the Uprising had a new supplier or not.

In fact, she wasn't really up to date on anything lately. She had heard that they had gotten some new members, somehow, but she, herself, had not met any of them. In fact, the only members she really knew were Scamp and Myla, the Uprisers that had redeemed her in the first place.

The only other Uprisers she had known were Haven and Caden, and they were dead. A shame really, she hadn't disliked them. Although, they had wasted her gunpowder.

An burning feeling snapped her out of her thoughts, and Seph realized that she had let the liquid pour to long. It was now dripping over the sides of the bottle, her gripped hand, and ultimately onto the barren ground. Tipping the almost-empty container right side up so that no more acid would fall, she cursed under her breath, placing the overflowing bottle down so that she could inspect her hand. Deep red wounds now dotted her fingers where the acid had found contact. Whatever excess fluid her hand hadn't absorbed, the ground had. A decent amount of acid, enough to make a second small bomb. Wasted.

After a moment of staring, she reluctantly looked away her own clumsiness, ignoring the seering pain that now surged through her hand, up her arm. She deserved it. She had not been focusing.

Tipping a bit of the acid back into the first container so that the bottle wouldn't be quite so full, Seph made sure to pay attention this time. Once she was happy with the leftover amount, she proceeded to crush some stolen aluminum she had leftover from a different bomb project.

Seph hesitated before completing the next step, capping the bottle and letting the acid sit a bit. Leaning against the back of the crumbled building the Uprising had met in for their first meeting, she slid to the ground, the snow condensing under her small frame. She wished it were spring again. She missed the dandelions.

It had been lightly snowing the whole morning, and only now did she take the time to acknowledge the cold that came with it. It was numbing...in a good way. Comforting. Seph tucked her knees up to her chest and closed her eyes, sheilding her burnt hand from the ice and snow stubbornly. She wasn't ready to forgive herself for wasting irreplaceable material just yet... but maybe she could enjoy the cold for just a little bit longer...

[Quint]

Dorian Scofield

Dorian had just returned from his little venture out in District 1. He knew how to get through places fast. Very fast. He knew his way around the sewers. Information, no one else had ever acquired. From his days a homeless beggar, he had stolen for about half a decade, until at last he had pick pocketed, unbelievably, enough to declare a fortune and stabilize in none other than the Capitol.

Now why, one would ask, would a filthy rich aristocrat such as he abandon his Capitol for one of an Uprisers? Well, that was obvious, if one were smart enough. The Uprising, as the rumors had spread, were the strongest gang in activity at the moment. And with that in mind, strength equaled power. And with power, one could easily conquer. And that's exactly what he planned to do. He'd let these foolish children do the dirty work and all he had to do was provide the big bucks. And then, in the end, he'd snatch the power and take over Panem, ruled under his own hand and no other.

It was the perfect plan, really. Oh, what a genius you are. What a beautiful genius...

As he took his daily walk around, he had noticed a girl hunched up to the side of the Uprising HQ. It appeared her hand was burned. And he recognized her. A very interesting girl she was. Goodnite. Seph Goodnite. As the bomb specialist, she had information in her inferior mind that could've been of some use to him. But first, he needed her trust.

This is going to be easy...

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[ja'mie]

S e p h

The apathetic one.

She heard footsteps. They were muffled by the the snow, but they stood out amongst the quiet whistle of the winter breeze. Relaxing her position ever so slightly, Seph opened one eye with mild curiosity.

It was a man in a suit. Blonde-Brunette hair. Pale. He seemed rather tall to her, although people always seemed tall to her, so she couldn't really rely on that instinct.

With these thoughts, she proceeded openly glance at him, then back down to the snow-covered ground.

He was an Upriser alright, she could tell by the way he seemed to be at ease. The District thirteen ruins could actually be quite shocking if seen for the first time. She was used to them by now, yet, after months of living here, they still seemed to emanate a gloomy feeling.

Or maybe that was just the eerie work of winter...

He seemed interesting. She wasn't sure of what exactly was interesting about him. Maybe the suit? No...

Shaking the crystalized snowflakes out her white curls, Seph gazed back up at the man, her stare unfaltering. She acknowledged him with a single nod.

"Good day... sir." The greeting was said with a smooth coldness, her over all tone rather breviloquent.

[Quint]

Dorian Scofield

"Good day... sir." So the girl did talk. This was good. More information to be distributed. Especially because he needed it fast. Soon, he'd present his ideas. Giving this little gang the tools they needed to help him take over Panem.

"Ah. Hello young 'un. Per say, you are the so called 'bomb specialist'?" He had to make sure before he asked any questions. If it just so happened that someone else found out about his wanting of bomb information, they'd get suspicious. He was still new to the group. But he'd get through to them.

Sure, he wasn't as rich as that Malcolm Chamberlain, one of the richest men in the Capitol, hence one of the richest men in Panem, but Dorian did have enough to be provide this gang with their every need. But he didn't expect to get anything soon. It would take much more than a week journey to reach the Capitol again. But of course, he knew his way around the sewers. Information of which was of the greatest value. Only he knew how to maneuver them. But his skills almost cost him his life. His poor homeless life. But now it had rewarded him. Made him famous. Rich. And most importantly, beautiful.

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[ja'mie]

S e p h

The apathetic one.

"Ah. Hello young 'un. Per say, you are the so called 'bomb specialist'?"

She tilted her head slightly at his accent. It was foreign, something she had never heard before. Perhaps, it was from his original district, wherever he came from. But his suit told her otherwise. He had money, and the only people who had real money were from the Capital. His accent was definitely not from the Capital, though; Capital accents were much more ludicrous.

Grabbing a fistful of snow in her burned hand, she grabbed the acid-filled bottle in the other, hugging it to herself posessively. Standing up slowly, Seph aimed her complete attention back to the stranger in front of her.

"Yes, I am. And you might be?"

Yet, Seph had already put the pieces together. Money. Suit. Accent (even, if it wasn't from the Capital). This man must be doing some major providing for the Uprising. If he had the money, they would, most likely, be taking advantage of that fact.

Either that, or he just liked to look rich.

[Quint]

Dorian Scofield

The girl could be of some value, perhaps? No, she was so...young. Inexperienced. Though, what were to happen if he were to teach her. Show her the in's and out's of true genius. They would be able to swap information. Or rather money for information. He'd pay the bucks. She'd pay the bombs. Everything would work it's place into plan if all went well. His plans for the future were innumerable. And incontestably remarkable of course.

The girl was young. Beautiful, even. Almost as beautiful as he was. He stroked his chin, giving her a one over look. "Dorian Scofield. Er...I pay you to destroy the Capitol."

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[ja'mie]

S E P H

The man stroked his chin. Glanced at her. She waited patiently, letting the cold of the snow soak into her hand. It didn't stop the pain, but it numbed it enough that she could think clearly again... at least for a little while.

"Dorian Scofield. Er...I pay you to destroy the Capitol."

Pay. As in, money. And money meant supplies.

Giving him a once-over herself, she grinned. "And here I thought I was doing that for free."

There must be something else then... he was obviously the provider for the uprising, a member, so he must realize by now that everyone here had one ultimate goal: to destroy the capitol. So that was an obvious answer for whatever he was actually paying her to make bombs for. Of course she could be being paranoid, but... she had knew it when she had first seen this man, this Dorian. He was different.

But she didn't decide to go furthur into it. You never questioned someone who was writing your checks. If you had the money you were in charge. Boss, even, if you wanted to get technical. Although, of course she would never use that word. 'Business partners' was better. Because even if the person with the bucks had an advantage, she could always just blow them up. And that fact gave her an advantage as well.

Sticking out her un-scathed hand to shake, Seph nodded. Her grin faded into oblivion, but a small smirk still obvious on her face. "Deal."