For Sherlock of some flavor or another

[tofightinjustice]

There's a heavy bag hung up on one of the trees at the edge of the Milliways forest. It's a little off the beaten path, which is nice, and Bryce finds that working in the cool not-Scottish air is a lot less dehydrating than working in the California sun.

For her size (she's middling tall but not very bulky), she's giving the bag a fairly thorough beating.

Comments

[tofightinjustice]

She nods.

"You think they could follow you here?"

[sicaria]

"Unlikely. And someone from home would stand out to me here if they did."

[tofightinjustice]

"What do people from your world look like? What makes them stand out?"

[sicaria]

"...It's more what they don't look like," she says slowly.

"At home I can tell at a glance whether someone is District or Capitol, and often which District or how prosperous. Here everyone looks—different. Strange. In-between. Too consistently well-fed for District but not outlandish or pampered enough for Capitol. The moment I saw someone who didn't give me pause trying to sort them out, I'd know."

[tofightinjustice]

She makes a face. "That won't help me spot them."

[sicaria]

"Yes, I know. Pitfalls of such a widely differing context. Hmm, give me a moment."

She has all these memories of what it's like to be from a world more or less resembling Bryce's. Surely she can figure out how to use them to understand the differences in reverse.

"The first thing's the accent, of course," she says absently, still thinking. "I can talk Capitol at you for a while to give you a sample, if you have a good ear for those. And then District Three for good measure. Apart from that..."

Sherlock taps her fingertips together thoughtfully.

"People from the Districts are going to look malnourished by your standards. The style of dress will seem more primitive in some respects, more advanced in others, because by my estimate we're from at least 2100 AD but District people don't have access to all the resources that implies. So clothing manufactured better than yours, but mended and patched together more haphazardly for longer. The Capitol, on the other hand—they're all rich. Never missed a meal in their lives. Cosmetic body alteration is very fashionable there. They dye their skin or hair casually, sometimes to match a particular outfit or the theme of a party, and have minor surgeries not much less casually than that—those can be very subtle, though, so they won't always make a good marker."

[tofightinjustice]

Bryce listens, head cocked slightly to one side, and nods.

"Let me hear a Capitol accent," she suggests.

[sicaria]

"All right," she says, switching to the appropriate dialect. "I'm from District Three, but I spent a lot of time in the Capitol as a child, so I can do both. My natural accent is somewhere in between."

[tofightinjustice]

She nods. Vowel shifts, lilt -- she'd have to listen to it more to be able to replicate it.

"Can you recite something?"

[sicaria]

The most interesting feature of a Capitol accent is the fact that it borrows a few pronunciation quirks from classical Latin.

"Recite what, a poem? A speech? I don't have any memorized, I'm afraid."

[tofightinjustice]

"And I don't have anything you could read aloud with me. Oh, well."

[sicaria]

"I do have a very good memory," she muses. "I'm sure I have something tucked away up here..."

[tofightinjustice]

Well, then, Bryce can wait.

[sicaria]

Sherlock closes her eyes to minimize distractions while she consults her memory.

Once she thinks of it, it's obvious. Probably she's the only person who's ever paid attention to the words, but after hearing them once a year for her entire life, they're imprinted on her mind.

She takes a breath and starts reciting the articles of the Treaty of Treason that established the relationship of Districts to Capitol and the foundation of the Hunger Games.

[tofightinjustice]

Bryce listens.



When Sherlock finishes, Bryce closes her eyes and thinks for a minute or two.

Then, slowly: "I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, and to the Republic for which it stands, one nation, under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all."

It's far from a perfect Capitol accent, but it might fool someone who wasn't paying too much attention.

[sicaria]

"Oh, well done," she says, still speaking Capitol.

[tofightinjustice]

Her lips quirk up, ever so slightly.

"Thanks," in her own accent. "I think I could recognize it if I heard it now."

[sicaria]

"You're welcome," she says, back in her usual mix. "I could show you District Three, too, but I'm not sure knowing that one will be useful the same way. And I don't have another long, boring legal document to recite, although I could always give you the same one again."

[tofightinjustice]

That faint smile disappears.

"I think I heard enough of it the first time."

[sicaria]

Wryly: "Sorry. I can't help noticing the opposing ideologies. I think I like yours better, although God still confuses me."

[tofightinjustice]

"Me too."

[sicaria]

She laughs softly.

[tofightinjustice]

"Do you have to go back to your world? Can't you stay here?"

[sicaria]

"I have a brother who loves his District and a best friend who'd tear this place apart if he knew it existed."

So no.

[tofightinjustice]

"Oh. Okay. Why would he tear it apart?"