thecapitol | The Bodies In the Streets

Mindy was patient, a good sign that she finally had something to occupy her mind. Guy had been someone she had hoped to run into, to at least talk with, and now it turned out she could help him. Granted, helping him to adjust to freaks that wanted to see him eviscerated was a mixed blessing, but it was the best one could hope for right now.

Besides, it wasn't like they were in the arena right now. This was at least neutral ground, and all she had to do was find the building that looked like a mushroom. She could even see, by how the pavement matched what he'd shown her, that she was getting close.

Of course the first thing he sees is the giant mushroom. There must be some sort of-- it must be wired into human instinct, to make a face and tilt your head and glance twice at a building that was shaped like a giant goddamned mushroom. Hawkeye swore, almost audibly, that if he kept a notebook and jotted down on it every instance some man-made thing in this world, in this city, in this pit of vipers, made him think twice about what he was seeing, that if he kept it on him at all times and never failed to write what he should, then all the world -not just the part he was seeing- would never want for TP ever again.

Provided, of course, that the notebook had some endless amount of sheets in it, otherwise he'd just run out of space to write in an hour.

Second thing he sees as he sweeps the streets with his gaze are the bushes. And he hates them because of course they knew it was winter. So he shudders, reminded that his game of denial about the season and Earth's rotation and all that wouldn't actually change the season and Earth's rotation and all that. Third-- fuzzy feet peering out from the bushes. Fourth, and for that second more importantly, Hawkeye spots the girl. It was impossible to not catch a glimpse, at least, a day of the bloody circus. So of course he recognized her and he felt his own blood run as cold as if it'd been exposed to the icy air. But he doesn't look sick and he doesn't even feel it- he's sure he'd have time for that later. In some short moments, actually, because as he starts to close the distance between them (him and the girl, not the scared young man he came here to attend to), he cracks a grin- sloppy and stupid.

Poor, stupid fella. Hiding in the bushes. Hawkeye can't even bring himself to abandon him like he'd planned at first- he stops just in front of the bundle to announce his findings to the girl.

"I think we'd better turn back around," he calls, as if he'd not just seen the girl for the first time. As if they had been buddies a while. If not for the rescue party, why else would she be here? Hawkeye wasn't an idiot. He'd learned how to navigate the communication gadget enough to make it through a day like this. "There's a bear in the bushes, might be a mother. --Might be a mother who just hasn't shaved. I really wouldn't want to get found by either. I'm irresistible to certain animals like that."

Mindy's head turned, her eyes flashing with distrust. She wasn't sure if the guy approaching was another of the Capitol stooges or even some special surprise Azula has cooked up, just in case she thought the psycho lady wasn't done with her head games in the arena. When she heard the joke, she relaxed a little bit. Older guy, good looking by passable standards, and not wearing anything that wanted to make her vomit. Must be someone brought here.

Jokes could use some work though.

"Yeah right, like they'd let a living thing here that wasn't under their beck and call?" Mindy said. "If it was a bear it'd probably be doing tricks and have some kind of shock collar. Nah, I'm here for a-for a friend of mine."

Killing her out of mercy, and doing what he did when she died? That earned it, at the very least.

It was like a spear through the heart, if he had to guess. The smile even falters, but it's schooled back in place where it should be in almost no time at all. Little girl, little girl, he wants to say, come here. And he'd hold her and never let her go and get hurt again. And that would be not only impossible, but cruel. And he'd very likely do it, and so he doesn't. And so he just huffs out a breath and tilts his chin up as if he was some blueblood snob from uptown Boston.

She had missed the point, and she was so distrustful. And nearly everything about her hurt, especially the confirmation of Guy being a friend. He had killed her. He had helped him. And Hawkeye realized a color he hated as much as green was gray, because gray was as confusing and irritant and insane.

He plants his hands on his hips. He glances at the furry boots they had both come for and then back at Mindy.

"I'm here for a fella who wigged out at the sight of a wig," he says. "Might be rabid. Got a name for this friend of yours? Imaginary? Any idea where we might find him? He said to meet him here, but I can't see anything. I might just call Tuttle up to help us find him."

Mindy sized the guy up. had to, he was doing the same to her, and considering her entrance into this world, likely he was already forming his own opinion. She was, of course, more worried about Guy than anything, if only because she didn't want to see him freaking out anymore while people were laughing at him. Not everyone could come from worlds like theirs, right?

Granted, now she got the joke, and was grinning. Oh, so he was that kind of guy. Humor to diffuse the situation. Pretty good.

"To be fair, that wig DID look alive," she said. "More than the person it rested on anyway. But he has a name. Guy. Seriously."

Some day he might wonder if anyone just grins out of obligation but for the moment he'll accept the gesture as it came, stand straighter, and even put out his chest and roll his shoulders back in a preen. He would have commented on the wig, about how he'd seen more convincing animals in either a theatre or 'down there', but then he deflates his posture, he looks at the girl dead-eyed, he lets the hand slip from his hip and he staggers forward only once.

His name was what? ...Why?

"You're kidding," he manages to say to her, his voice as flat as he could muster without any add-on acting. And screw the act he'd wanted to build up. Hawkeye makes sure he's right in front of Guy now, determination nearly radiating off of him for a reason maybe only he could grasp. "You're kidding," he murmurs again, and knocks his knuckles against the bush so it at least rattles. He rocks back on his heels, then forward. A second later, whether Guy reacted or not, he's parting the branches the best he can and calling out with near betrayal ringing in his voice, "Your name is Guy?"

There he was, peeking a bruised, scraped, paint-splattered face through the hole, looking immeasurably grateful to see them both.

Then Hawkeye's question registered and his face scrunched up quizzically as he realized he hadn't ever introduced himself, had he.

"How did we get through all that without me telling you my name?"

Edited 2013-12-12 00:40 (UTC)

"Me," Mindy said, popping up next to Hawkeye. "I WAS killed before you, remember? Instead of wallowing in self pity I used my time to keep tabs on people. Had to."

Hence how she knew what happened after she died, which was why she said what she said. She was glad that he was calming down though. That was just better for everyone.

"Besides, you're guys. Don't you have, like, an unspoken language when it comes to fleeing for your life?"

And the fox had been smoked out of its hole. Thank you, thank you, he did try. Hell of a trick, wasn't it? He'd like to think so. But when Guy peeks out Hawkeye's still playing up his disbelief and his mouth's still set in that stubborn and thin line. He doesn't step back and he doesn't let up his gaze as he searches what bit of him he can see for injury. Hawkeye does step back when Mindy comes up. He even turns his head to one side and exhales and makes sure it seems more like he's still somehow poking fun at the unfortunate guy's name of Guy than the fact that he feels like his stomach did a somersault in the pit of his belly. The bridge of his nose burns a little and he wonders how long it'll be this time before he ends up yelling.

Still, he didn't like her words and he shrugged and interrupted- "And instead of keeping tabs on people, I was wallowing in self pity. Had to."

But it's light and casual like the rest of the morbid festival before him.

He turned to Mindy, turned to Guy and mouthed Guy in question again, because aw hell-- what had he expected from a guy who named his daughter Bug? It was hereditary, the giving of stupidly descriptive names. He shrugs again when Mindy asks the question. "W-well yeah, sweetheart, but the thing about unspoken language is that it's unspoken. I take these matters to heart. I can't betray my gender by..." and he waves his hands because he doesn't know what to say. Then he claps and gives Guy a pointed little look, as if he could coax him out of the bushes by it alone. "Not that I blame him keeping quiet and hiding, with a name like that."

Edited 2013-12-12 02:11 (UTC)

"I don't see how you get to make fun of my name when you have two or three more than is strictly necessary."

That's right, Benjamin Franklin Hawkeye Pierce Emdee.

But Guy was more at ease than before and that meant he was calm enough to venture out of the bushes, though he did look around with a fair bit of paranoia in his gaze. As for injuries, there were bruises on his right leg where the car hit, and bruises and scrapes on his left leg, cheek, and side where he'd landed. Nothing hugely serious, though. He'd just be sore for a few days.

Of course, the name thing could only hold his attention for so long, because Mindy was there. Mindy was there, talking and breathing and alive, and so Guy reached out his hand and gently clasped hers, squeezing it like an older brother might to reassure a younger sibling.

Then he said quietly, "It's good to see you."

Whatever Hawkeye thought of what he'd done, he'd be able to see it in the way he looked at her - the way a father might look at children in general - that it was not a decision made lightly nor was it one that had lacked compassion.

Nor was it one he'd ever make again unless it was the absolute only alternative. This was a man who'd die for someone else's children, if it came to it. That would always come first.

Edited 2013-12-12 02:23 (UTC)

Mindy met Guy's gaze, and at this point, they were going to have to do a little bit of telepathy themselves. There was no way that Mindy could have accurately explained how much she appreciated what he did, that she had always understood why. It was something only people who had to face down that choice would deal with, and it had been a hard one to make.

"I'm glad you're back," she said quietly, almost tenderly, then raised her voice, "though I wish the circumstances were different. You looked like you were gonna get iced at just about anytime, and I didn't want them trying to subdue you with...what's the bullshit phrase? Physical altercation applied as needed? Pretty talk for brute force."

She looked over at Hawkeye, a little startled by his words at first. "Oh man, that wasn't directed at you. Anybody who died in the games first arriving would be shell shocked. I'm one of those freaks that works through the pain. Besides, I can always cry in my bed later, when I'm pretty sure no one's watching."

Or go to the training room and hit things, her go-to solution.

He stuck his tongue out at Guy.

Hawkeye thought he held himself together well enough when Guy directs his attention to Mindy when he didn't utter the screech that was building up in his throat. When the hands entwined and his stomach lurched forward he felt like taking a step back might be seen as a way to give the two space to enjoy their company better. His mind reeled. He remembered the cold sweat of days before, the terror he'd known for years now but that always seemed new to him. So if he only rolled his eyes and grunted- and yes, he saw Guy's expression of gentleness and the girl Mindy's open response-, then Hawkeye figures he did a good job at, you know, not losing his lunch. He figures he was some fantastic example of some impatient man, but one who'd seen twisted things before. So he was fine with that.

But he still needs to make his own noise, to break the- the This. The spell. The reunion that shouldn't be. And it was impossible to not be grateful he was alive, that he was brought back to life, but any sane man knew it was wrong. Any sane man knew how wrong the show of... whatever had been that'd taken place in front of him. He claps his hands once. "Alright, things are getting mushy and I don't have popcorn to throw at you two," he announces as if it was his only qualm. And he turns to Mindy and quips, "Shell shocked? Do I look like a turtle to you?" And Christ, he wishes for Sidney or for someone who knew more than he did on how to act right because there wasn't any way he wouldn't be haunted by the delivery of the girl's words and, okay, he was more shaken than the last leaf on an oak in autumn. Hell if he'd show it.

"I'm getting paid by the hour," he says, matter-of-factly and like he's not sorry to bring attention back to the mess that was the guy named Guy. "If you two want to-" and his moves his hands "waltz, I don't care. But I was called to respond to an urgent search and rescue. I take my work seriously. The search's done. And I'm not going to carry the lug," and he nods at Guy and feels sorry for the man as much as he feels sorry for the girl he had slit the throat of. "But I'd say getting back to the apartments' our next move." And he feels an itch for Ellie, for his girl, at his throat and wonders what the hell he's supposed to even do about that. "It's more private." Not. But it was home base. Hawkeye knew that. "And I happen to know somebody in our midst doesn't get along well with either crowds or ve-hic-uls. Both of which are generously removed from sight or thought when you unlock that door that leads to your own executive-style suite, bested only by the best rooms at the Imperial Hotel, Tokyo."

Hawkeye wasn't the only one moved and disturbed by Mindy's matter-of-fact response. 'I can always cry in my bed later, when I'm pretty sure no one's watching.' He was not as good at hiding his expression so for a moment he looked like he'd taken a physical punch to the gut.

Then Hawkeye reminded him of the crowds and the ve-hic-uls (strange name) and the alien world around him, and with another nervous look around, he crowded in close to the other man as if he thought he could somehow protect him from it all.

Like a child, he even reached out and snagged his fingers on the cloth of Hawkeye's shirt, at the elbow, as if afraid he'd get separated and lost again if he didn't hold on.

"Is it safer there?" he asked nervously. "I didn't stay long enough to look around and it still looked...strange. It's just out here is maybe worse. Too many people - there's -"

He looked out at the people milling down the streets.

"They don't realize they're too many. People aren't meant to be - to be all holed up in one place like this. There's no room to be."

Mindy rolled her eyes. Was she seriously going to have to start monitoring what she said now, so people would not stare at her like she had two fucking heads? She was chosen for the games, what exactly did they think she was going to be like?

And seriously, if they wanted to talk about what things were left behind, she had more than enough stories.

"Its safer, yeah," Mindy said. "Just watch what you say. No reason to think the place isn't bugged, and no doubt they're gonna wanna try weeding out anyone too, um, obstinate. Be a little angry, play their game. Technically, the freak out was kind of a good thing: you're their fish out of water. They'll probably make you a favorite."

Mindy had to think quick on her feet. Her time had their reality shows, after all, and they had to be planned like anything else.

"But here, they'll just stare and laugh, and honestly, it can be ugly out here. Better to be someplace quiet, we can talk."

And then maybe she could find out why the joker over here was giving her the stink eye.

So now he's a human shield and for some reason it makes him feel more comfortable. Hawkeye lets his shoulders stoop and he hold himself much more loosely- may not be what Guy had wanted if he had clung on to him like a tick, but maybe if he portrayed himself as more confident, more sure of himself and the surroundings...

"'Bugged'," he's quick to explain, "means that there might be ways for people to know what you do or say, even if you think no one can." And gee. That was a harrowing thought, but he's not sure he's surprised by it either. Look at the technology-- it'd make his head spin if he thought of the possibilities. You know, as if he wasn't living them. "It's called that because bugs are small and crawl into corners you'd never expect-- but you know about Bugs already." And he's starting to hate the technical talk spewing from the girl's mouth. But what can he do here?

He'll scoff, of course. "Probably? I can't take ten steps without seeing something that reminds me of-" and maybe that was telling, so he cuts himself off but hopes it comes off as part of the rant that didn't get off the ground. "This place is ridiculous. And I know ridiculous." He even wags his finger like a crotchety old man to emphasize. Then he clicks his heels together. Bends the elbow that Guy had gotten a hold of so it looks like he's about to escort the guy to his date-- or rather, like he was Guy's date. "Shall we, as they say, 'move out'?" Because chatting with a throat-slitter and the slit-ee in front of dry bushes, in front of a building shaped like a mushroom, was weird. It was weird. Going indoors, he thinks, would make it all a touch less insane.

Guy nodded fervently. Yes, please. Move out. Or in. Into the building.

Into the cave.

But it seemed that was what his life was going to be now, a series of caves, of dark rooms he'd wake up in, and dark spaces he'd go to sleep in - like in that log with Hawkeye when he'd been poisoned - wondering if he'd wake up every time.

It was cold, anyway. He was starting to lose the feeling in his fingers and face.

"Do they look like actual bugs?" he asked.

What they were talking about conjured up the mental image of little bugs crawling around his room with eyes on their backs, watching his every move. He'd have shuddered at the mental image if the way some of the people on the street were looking at him wasn't already making him shudder. He was a bit of a sight, what with being all scraped up, splattered in paint, and wearing altogether too few clothes for the weather.

A few were already making a beeline for the three of them as they walked along. Three Tributes all in one place? New ones, at that? Everyone wanted to be the one to declare someone their favorite before it was cool. The attention they drew gathered together was more intense than if they'd just been wandering around by themselves, mostly because their little stories had all been intertwined. What had started with Guy's mercy-kill of Mindy had eventually led to Guy needing Hawkeye's mercy, and then Guy being healthy enough to take on Azula once more to avenge her death. And oh, the potato! So dramatic! The thank you gift of almost a whole potato! The whole thing brought a tear to the eye, didn't it?

They had seen hands that gave death as a gift and painted the sun in blood on a little girl's head and then hands that gave life that made it so Guy's blood-stained hands gave death again.

Their voices ran over one another and they started pressing in a little too close to all three of them, clearly not caring much about their comfort.

To Mindy: "- oh darling, what happened to you was just so tragic, I hope you last longer next time because I really wanted to see you -"

To Hawkeye: "- so noble of you, even when you knew it was futile, to try so hard to save his life with nothing more than -"

To Guy, complete with an unwanted hand on his upper arm: "- that death ritual you did was just so - so primal, I had tingles -"

Guy's response was an audible whimper and him trying to shrink away from the woman's touch even more into Hawkeye's personal space. Not that there was much room in it - or Mindy's - as they crowded around them. Apparently, personal space came at a premium here for all three of them.

Edited 2013-12-15 07:23 (UTC)

"It depends. Either way, they want to make sure we aren't, you know, straying from the Capitol's virtues, best I can figure out. I've already seen and heard what happens to people who do that.

She would have gone on about that, but they were being assailed by a throng of people.

UGH. It was bad enough that she had died: having people ask her about it, romanticizing it, feeling SORRY for her-that infuriated her. She was going to make sure that the next Arena she showed them exactly what she could do, just to get that stigma off her. AS it was, that people had seen what happened between her and Guy was maddening, as she thought it was something private.

Mindy stuck closer to Guy, getting in front of him, and gave Hawkeye her best please make these people go away look. She had been out here to help Guy, and she wasn't even close to being in the mood to accommodate anyone.

That wasn't fair. He can continue to carry himself like a proud meat shield because he at least knew he was a willing barrier between the crowd and the spooked guy. He doesn't particularly find the swarm enchanting, and in fact the group of citizens pushing to get to say their rehearsed lines of admiration to their television favorites was about as enchanting as jungle rot before an amputation. But he wasn't a stranger to crowds or pushing, and the words of admiration and stupidity were new but easy to tune out if only he kept the thoughts in his head louder than what was around. The headache was rising and it just wasn't fair, though. That he wasn't freaking out as badly as Guy, and he did at least have the courtesy and sense to feel enough sympathy for Guy to crowd in closer and swat away a hand or two, didn't mean that he enjoyed the foolish spectacle. So why was he stuck with policing duty? Mindy had proven herself the veteran of the group, why didn't she step up?

Because the crowd was getting rowdy- too rowdy- and the mindless praises of the drones were getting under his skin. The crowd wouldn't budge when he stepped forward, attempting to part them. Because the loose grin was turning tight and he felt himself recoiling at some remarks and wanting to tell them to shove that potato up their ass, down their throat, anywhere it would fit and get lost. He wanted to tell them to drill a hole in it and fuck it then give it a ring, if they loved it so much. He would have, too, but right after he catches sight of Mindy's silent plea and he steps back and bumps into who he thought was Guy and he realizes he bumped into a woman, instead, he stomps his foot on the ground and booms, "I, that please some, try all, both joy and terror," like some mad performer. Which, in fact, he was. And seeing that he gets the crowd to hush for a full second and that managed to command all eyes on him

hell, why not?

Hawkeye turns, a jerky movement, so he faces his two pals and the half of the crowd he had had his back turned to. "Of good and bad, that makes and unfolds error-" and he lifts his hands and the lady who had had her hands on Guy clasps them on him again, giddily, obviously delighted at the prospect of a show. Well- screw her, Hawkeye figured, because she was frightening his caveman and further crowding him in turn. It was an act of faith, really, when he swept his hand over her head, snatched the wig and placed it hastily on his own head in all its shimmering violet glory, leaving the woman shrieking and with an embarrassing cut showing, and shouted "So old and white as this! 'tis foul."

And the crowd erupted in laughter at her misfortune. The woman couldn't seem to make up her mind if she wanted to run or stay and fight but she at least wouldn't have her mind on Guy's muscles again any time soon. And Hawkeye didn't quite look like he wanted to stop and he even adjusts the wig, his prize, so it stays better. But no, he's not grinning. He kind of wants to. "So keep your grubby hands offa us!" He roared, the intimidating tall man in the purple glittery fairy wig. "We have diseases you've never heard of! Do you know how long it's been since my last hydrophobtoncer shot? Years!" And with that emphasis, no one would say he wasn't at least mad, and present company may just be infected. The crowd, almost as one, steps back with alarmed murmurs.

Edited 2013-12-16 03:02 (UTC)

Guy could only stare at Hawkeye in slack-jawed astonishment at first.

The expression made a slow transformation to a huge, ridiculous grin and then a fit of the giggles followed shortly after. Even as he stood there cold and uncomfortable and covered in paint, the laughter dug its way out from where it had been buried by the fear.

"Now was that a solilo-thingy?"

Edited 2013-12-16 03:34 (UTC)

Mindy was ROLLING. Of all the things you could do in a situation like this, that was just about the last thing that she expected. But once he started talking about diseases, Mindy did her best to look intimidating (it was very VERY easy for her to do). The crowd started to edge away, and now was the perfect time to take their leave.

"And here I thought today was gonna be boring," she remarked, once they were out of earshot. For curiosity's sake, and pretty bad lack of school, what was that?"

"A solilo-thingy indeed," he answers Guy in a drawl, his hands finding their way back to the wig he'll keep as a souvenir. It was fluffier than he'd thought, and he draws in a breath and sticks out his chest and feels like a bulldog. Or Noah, parting the Red Sea. He taps Guy's shoulder and motions to a gap the crowd had now made, motioning that they should move and move towards it he does, even snarling and yipping at any man who would turn to stare. Hydrophobtoncer was a very serious condition, ya know, and he beams when he spots Mindy playing the game.

When they leave the citizens, he continues, "I think it was King Lear. I forgot the part in the middle and had to skip all the way to the end." And he was strutting and didn't quite realize it.

Guy trundled along, still clinging to Hawkeye's sleeve, but he was a little less timid this time, and every so often, he'd just look over at the wig and snicker a little bit. It was a good distraction from the city around them.

The trip back to the Tribute Training Center was mostly uneventful and after getting pointed to it by an avox, they found Guy's room in the District 6 suites.

Just in time, too. All that time out in the cold meant he was starting to get just slightly on this side of hypothermic.

He didn't exactly jump into bed in his room, though. Mainly because he didn't know what it was, something they'd realize when he started poking at it experimentally.

"What is this thing?"

The Training Center Mindy was more than familiar with. District 6 suite, not so much. Still, she was doing the whole moral support thing, so she was here willingly. She figured that right now, running around in the col, he was going to be getting pretty sick.

"A bed. You sleep in it. Now hurry and get under the covers. You can't just go running around the place like that in winter, its how you tempt real death. Just go and wrap a blanket around yourself."

Ok, so now she was, without thinking about it, playing concerned mom. Better she doesn't thin about it.

"Hey," she says to Hawkeye, "why don't we get him something warm to drink?"

Christ, he hated the elevator. It wasn't such a long ride and for the most part, Hawkeye stood still like the adult he was supposed to be. He kept mostly quiet too, humming only every other minute and behaving himself as he played Seeing Eye dog for Guy. They were shown into the room and Hawkeye remarked how much it looked like his, and suddenly felt a little less spoiled, despite the fact that the room was decently different.

He glanced at Mindy for a moment, and could only nod along as she explained what a bed was. What the heck kind of world did Guy come from, if he didn't know what a bed was? If he didn't have one before, he'd understand, but. Scratch that. It was just strange, even years later.

He had moved to grab one of Guy's wrists firmly. He counted.

He slapped the guy on the back, afterwards, though it wasn't too hard. His words, however, were. "Wear a shirt next time, at least. Don't they have winter where you're from?" And he turns to Mindy and nods. "Yeah, sure. I want one of us to stay with him, though. Make sure he gets tucked in. I wouldn't say no to telling him to shower, get that paint off himself."

Guy yanked all the blankets off the bed and piled them on the floor, then tossed all the pillows down with them, making it into something of a nest.

"I was in a panic and I didn't know it was so cold. I didn't know somewhere could even be that cold. We have winter, but that's the season where it's just warm instead of really, really hot," Guy said, teeth chattering.

For now, the bathing would have to wait. The paint was already dry anyway, and he really needed to warm up before he did anything else. So he squirmed under the blanket pile until he was completely covered and even pulled part of the blankets over his eyes so only his mouth was visible.

"How do you shower as an action? A shower is like a rain shower, how does a person shower?"

"You know, you are allowed to sleep ON the bed," Mindy said. "It'll probably be better for your back. Your world sounds like its in the tropics then. Guess that makes sense. It didn't help that the games weather was actually pretty ok too, nothing too frigid."

She could totally not do frigid right now. Cold was bad enough.

"Look...there's been, like, amazing advancements since your time. Now you can go into a room where you can actually turn on and off something that will pour water on you, hot or cold. And there's even soap, which cleans your skin. And shampoo, dude. Seriously."

He snorts at Mindy's explanation. "That's an advancement from my time!" Damn the shower tent of the 4077th and damn the cold water. Damn the shortages and the heat waves and the days the water ran green. He didn't comment on Guy making a nest. He wouldn't know how.

But he was serious about following Mindy's suggestion and getting the boy something hot to drink. Wasn't it funny? Him following the suggestion of a little girl? Hah. He turns with a quick pat to Mindy's back and creeps the door to Guy's suite open. He only steps out long enough to ask an Avox for something that wouldn't upset the fella's stomach-- they had to know more about him than he did. And apart from booze, how would Hawkeye know what the strange people of the Capitol had to drink? It's a couple of minutes at most, and Hawkeye never really steps out of the room. He returns to the edge of the bed with something in his hands- gives it a sniff- and he lowers the cup to Guy.

Hawkeye then invites himself to take a seat on the edge of Guy's bed. He figured, since the boy wasn't using it himself, that it wouldn't matter. And he just observes, this time around, and his brows shoot up even if no one sees and he quickly removes the wig from his head and scratches his hair. He's silent company for that moment, mind reeling and wandering. Naturally, this couldn't last long. And he was at such a loss with what to do for Guy, that he found himself asking, "So where are you from?" Because he had the hunch he'd like to talk about it- to escape this place through story, if nothing else.

The whole time Mindy was talking about showers, Guy had been mouthing 'blah blah blah blah' sarcastically. It was a sore spot for him, since Lestat had said all that stuff about him being dirty. He planned to clean up maybe a little more often than usual but in his humble opinion baths were highly overrated.

Guy sat up just enough to sip the drink - hot cider - and it meant the blanket over his eye briefly slipped off.

"Are you talking to me or -? Oh, you're talking to me." Not Mindy.

Guy put the drink down on the floor next to the nest and hunkered down again, pulling the blanket back over his eyes.

"I'm from Tomorrow. It's a place that doesn't have all these tall things and people crowded together. Everyone wanders and hunts and gathers food to get by and a few people live in caves but most people are nomads like me. We just wander the world our whole lives, seeing everything in it, and it's great because the world is so big and amazing."

He dredged up the words he'd heard in the arena.

"A guy I talked to in the arena said where I was from sounded liked the past where he was from. He had words for it: 'prehistoric' and 'paleolithic.'"

Edited 2013-12-24 03:23 (UTC)

Mindy had tried explaining the bathing thing, although she did look a little surprised at the mocking.

"Hey, don't underestimate cleaning. Makes sure you're at least recognizable, and you don't smell like shit."

She could be nice and patient in explaining, or she could just be blunt. Guess which won out?

"Actually yeah, you sound like what people would call cavemen in my times. You're sorta depicted as these hairy, grunting lumbering guys that dragged your wife by the hair for some reason."

And were locked out by your dinosaur dog, apparently.

The 'tall things' Hawkeye realized must be the skyscrapers, towering and streamlined and dwarfing any imagination from his own time. He still wants to be convinced that Guy is only from a very underdeveloped part of the world- the world he knows- but then the part about living in caves makes his attention snap to the possibility that-- that hey, he's talking to history. And his nose scrunches a little in thought, and his brows furrow lightly.

So how was it that everyone was speaking English?

And the power of everything he didn't understand was so great, he was sure he felt a headache coming on. The sensation burst through when Mindy did- and Hawkeye didn't let a single moment of silence go between the end of her words and his rushed repair- "Those are caricatures- cartoons- exaggerated in one extreme for all they're worth. There are actually studies, centers all over of people trying very hard to understand-"

and wasn't it weird? To think that those kinds of centers might exist in this world, trying to figure out the lives of the creatures, hardly human by these new standards, who had lived so long before? What the hell had become of Crabapple Cove?

He's not even sure he's going to help, and he prepares to state the obvious in the least problematic way he knows. "There's not a whole lot left of the prehistoric. Time moved on, and it doesn't care to preserve a lot of the things we'd like it to. Now, that was back in my time. That's 1953." Not that it'll mean anything to the fella wrapped in a blanket. "And this time's ahead of mine by a mile. Now- how we all ended up here, I dunno." It felt like a newsflash streaming over and over in his head: everyone you know is dead. But if they were fine here, displaced, the folk back home must be fine, left alone where they had been. Right? No? Christ almighty, what a headache. What a heartbreak. "It's new to all of us. Having us not know what's going on is part of the game."

Guy pulled a face at Mindy's description even despite Hawkeye'es quick save. In fact, that expression was even more irked by what Hawkeye said, even if his eyes weren't visible.

"What? Why would I drag my -" Yes, he was incensed. "I love my mate. I'd never grab her by the hair."

There was a brief pause as he considered something.

"That said, she used to do that to me, but when I made it very clear she was being too rough, she stopped." He held up a finger. "She's very, very gentle now."

Which was a good thing because otherwise she'd break him in half.

"We don't hurt each other. What kind of sick people hurt the people they love? And also cavemen and nomads are different - they're two different peoples. All human, but different. My wife and her family are caveman, I'm a nomad - we're built differently. And what - what centers? What's a center? What do you mean they study us? How can they understand people that died that long ago? Sherlock said I'm like people that are at least 10,000 years older than people like all of you. What is there left to study?"

Edited 2014-01-03 05:31 (UTC)

And here of course, Mindy's extended knowledge of cavemen ended. This was one of those times she wished that her dad had not home schooled her, but what could you do? She never thought her faint knowledge of cavemen woul come into question.

"There's a lot I don't know, sorry. But yeah, we have centers because humans want to know where they come from who they descended from. They trace the history, date bones of men from that time and..."

Wait. Hold on.

"Hey," she addressed Hawkeye. "Back up. You're from Nineteen Fifty THREE?! I could have...yeah, I guess that makes sense if Guy is here..."

She was half mumbling to herself now.

Edited 2014-01-03 05:39 (UTC)

Sitting on the bed like it was the one which belonged to him, he couldn't offer even a hand on his shoulder. He wants to swing his legs and offer condolences for a misinterpretation he never would have thought was wrong, but he stills and frowns at the mention of the so very casual abuse. Then he wants to rattle on about strange sex practices -'sick' depending on who you ask- but realizes a moment later that he shouldn't. What he focuses on again is 'built different', but his interest had never been in studying history. Next up is 'Sherlock' and the headache pulses and Hawkeye barks out a laugh, short and sharp and high and entirely irrelevant to the adventure thus far. And God, he hopes it's not misconstructed as being directed at Guy's woes.

He sobers in a blink, though he's bright-eyed and with an energy that hadn't been in him for long moments before. He supplements Mindy's explanations, and makes a note to try and understand the subject himself. He shrugs, though he doubts it'll even be seen. "We're curious buggers." But 10,000 years were astounding. What the hell kind of technology did the Capitol have? "And our bodies are more resilient when left alone in the end." As opposed to being blown to powder. "Dig deep enough, you'll find anything. Gold. Bones. Oil. Atlantis. China."

Now he swings his legs and even bounces once on the mattress. He takes the movement and lets himself lay down on his side, facing the other two. He ought to check Guy's temperature soon... but what the fuck was the normal temperature for a caveman? --sorry, nomad?

He turns to Mindy, mockingly affronted, the despair well hidden. What? Dear God, what? Was he 10,000 years from the past? "I'm sure as hell not from '29! I already did my time!" He shuffles around, makes himself comfortable. He addresses the room next, his voice like he was a professor at a lecture hall. "Somewhere alone the line, we started using numbers to refer to the time we were living in. Then some important guy was born and we switched the counting the other way- reversed it and starting counting forward instead of backward." Because he remembered Guy saying he was from Tomorrow, whatever that meant, and he wasn't going to talk more about his time, because it not being everybody else's was wrong. "Numbers are easier to remember than names."

"Bones? Bones?" The blanket was already covering his eyes but Guy covered the rest of his face with both hands.

"Don't tell me people are digging us up."

The hands dropped and he abruptly sat upright.

"How can people - what, does that mean somewhere down the line someone's going to dig up a tar pit and find my -"

He broke off because he didn't want to drag the conversation down, even though it was getting pretty miserable for him. (Not Mindy or Hawkeye's fault, it was the culture shock, it was inevitable, and at least he was getting it from friendly faces. Could've been worse.)

Slumping back down on the blankets, he turned over and swept the whole blanket over his head, nestling down in it so that he was just a lump, only his mouth showing.

"All because of numbers. Enough numbers pass on by and it's magically not a grave anymore, it's something to prod at because they're curious. I mean, how would they feel if someone dug up their grandma's grave?"

Edited 2014-01-08 08:40 (UTC)

"The idea is to find hints of the past," Mindy said, realizing exactly how fucked up all of this must be sounding to Guy. Personally, she doubt she would care if someone dug her up: she would be dead, after all. A body was pretty much a vessel until it wasn't, and then you went to whatever was next.

"Pretty much, people want to know as much about what they used to be, where they evolved from. It's been a long time past, and some just want to know. The more people know about their past, they figure, the more they can attempt to try and fix their future."

Or something like that. Hell, she wasn't an anthropologist.

"Sorry about that," she said to Hawkeye. "I missed getting a formal education. "Too busy getting doing other things."

The Bodies In the Streets

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