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thecapitol2014-01-06 06:58 pm
shambler) wrote in thecapitol2014-01-06 06:58 pm
Entry tags:
The rotting Pinnochio.
Who|| R and OTA
What|| R’s been given a Capitol “Cure” for his zombification, in preparation for the next Arena. There are side effects and growing pains involved. It’s also everything he wanted. He’ll be looking for handholding on the returning bodily functions or just general hand-holding. Advice, also. Give him all the good and not-so-good advice. He’s riding high on an overall good mood despite the side effects.
Where|| Around Tribute Tower. In cafes and alleys if he’s getting sick. The closer to the Arena, the more he’ll look and act like a normal human.
When|| Between now and the next Arena. It's catch all post.
Warnings| Zombie references, also descriptions of bodily functions
By now he’s definitely seeing results from the Cure. R’s sure it’s got a specific, science-y name, but in his head he’s been calling it The Cure: short, no frills, elegant in its simplicity.
It means his body is playing catch-up. Trying to relearn basic functions. The nausea isn’t that bad at first. R’s had it before when he tried to eat anything that couldn’t talk back: deer, dog, wolf. Canned peaches. Beer. You ate one, you basically ate all of them. He’ll end up puking it up anyway. It’s the other stuff that he’s struggling with. He’s already ruined several shirts with the excessive drooling. The rash that’s popped up red as fresh blood on his arm has spread (he thinks it itches. Like, a lot). The pus it oozes is clearer by the day. The black poison that used to be his body fluids flushes out. And he’s already figured out that his bladder seems to be working – funny, that. He thought his sense of taste would’ve come first.
R can be found wandering around the immediate Tribute Tower area. Sometimes he’ll wrangle the first Living person he sees, ask them to for advice. Other times he’ll simple stagger into them, two seconds away from drooling or needing a fast escort to the nearest bathroom. The lucky ones will sit R down, try to teach him the basics of hand-eye dexterity, reading. Writing. Appreciating the finer things in life.
The muzzle, though, stays on. It’ll stay on even right before the Arena, when he’s nearly indistinguishable from a real Living, breathing boy.
What|| R’s been given a Capitol “Cure” for his zombification, in preparation for the next Arena. There are side effects and growing pains involved. It’s also everything he wanted. He’ll be looking for handholding on the returning bodily functions or just general hand-holding. Advice, also. Give him all the good and not-so-good advice. He’s riding high on an overall good mood despite the side effects.
Where|| Around Tribute Tower. In cafes and alleys if he’s getting sick. The closer to the Arena, the more he’ll look and act like a normal human.
When|| Between now and the next Arena. It's catch all post.
Warnings| Zombie references, also descriptions of bodily functions
By now he’s definitely seeing results from the Cure. R’s sure it’s got a specific, science-y name, but in his head he’s been calling it The Cure: short, no frills, elegant in its simplicity.
It means his body is playing catch-up. Trying to relearn basic functions. The nausea isn’t that bad at first. R’s had it before when he tried to eat anything that couldn’t talk back: deer, dog, wolf. Canned peaches. Beer. You ate one, you basically ate all of them. He’ll end up puking it up anyway. It’s the other stuff that he’s struggling with. He’s already ruined several shirts with the excessive drooling. The rash that’s popped up red as fresh blood on his arm has spread (he thinks it itches. Like, a lot). The pus it oozes is clearer by the day. The black poison that used to be his body fluids flushes out. And he’s already figured out that his bladder seems to be working – funny, that. He thought his sense of taste would’ve come first.
R can be found wandering around the immediate Tribute Tower area. Sometimes he’ll wrangle the first Living person he sees, ask them to for advice. Other times he’ll simple stagger into them, two seconds away from drooling or needing a fast escort to the nearest bathroom. The lucky ones will sit R down, try to teach him the basics of hand-eye dexterity, reading. Writing. Appreciating the finer things in life.
The muzzle, though, stays on. It’ll stay on even right before the Arena, when he’s nearly indistinguishable from a real Living, breathing boy.
before district trips!
He is worried about the district tours as well, and the anonymous warning on the network. He had wondered about the districts for a long time, and was half excited about what district four would be like, but also half fearful about conditions there and the kind of reaction the tributes would face.
He saw R, looking very different than he usually did, though he was drooling and didn't look too well at all. It was in a different way than usual, as if he were taken by an illness rather than just dead...
"Are you alright?"
Re: before district trips!
R looks up from where he'd been trying to (mostly) aim the drool into a potted plant by the door of District 4's suite. A little of it dribbles down his chin as he jerks up in time to see Shion. Oh, yeah. He hadn't told him The News just yet. R hurries over, dripping black drool all over the carpet and it's expensive shag as he smiles.
"Better than...alright," R beams. Shion gets hit with a faceful of blackened teeth. "Notice...difference?"
R tries to show off his slightly-better posture, the rash that's spread from his elbow down the back of his head. Check it out.
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He reached out to touch his arm, studying the rash to check for infection, not that he didn't trust the scientists or doctors or whoever had done this.
At least he trusted them to get it right, he didn't trust their motives at all but... this was what R had wanted. What Shion had tried to discover and failed, instead learning a truth so terrifying that he hadn't actually shared it with anyone yet.
"Congratulations." He contorted his face into a cheerful smile. Because even though he was worried, worried about what this meant and why they had done this, why now? It was still what R wanted, it was a good thing. Even if it probably came with a price.
"It's amazing! How did they do it? Do you know?"
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R reached into his pocket at Shion's question. His movements were still uncoordinated, shaky, his fingers fumbling with his pockets before he fished out the little pill bottle and its laundry list of side effects. Like pretty much everything in the Capitol, even the bottle was pretty, glistening in the light with some sort of opal finish.
"Gave...me this," R held it out in his palm, letting Shion inspect it. "And...a...appointments."
Not that he remembered much of those. White rooms, bright lights? Anyway, the point was he was wondering if Shion maybe got a word or two in. Maybe convinced some Capitol Gamemakers to have a change of heart?
Even his mouth was starting to feel better, when it wasn't busy drooling or vomiting. Syllables became easier and easier, the pauses shorter, less drawn out by staring. Oblivious to what Shion's learned, R kept smiling. A trail of tar-like drool edged out the corner of his mouth.
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"You're talking is a lot better." Much less groaning and he had said appointments almost in one. Shion smiled again, his smile coming easier this time because R's enthusiasm, even if it was a bit muted, was infectious.
"How are you finding it? Does your arm not hurt?" It didn't look good but Shion had nothing to compare it to, they could ask Wesker of course, he knew more than Shion did and wasn't part of the capitol even if he was a victor. They could trust him, Shion thought.
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"It's..." R pauses. A little scary? Amazing? "Messier...than...thought. But...good."
He tried to think of it as if his corpse was leeching out all the poison, all the death, from it. That once it was gone, he'd be good as new. He'd just be like Shion, except taller. But same heart beat, same pulse. They could be friends without the muzzle in between them. It'd be nice.
"Think...hurt," R peered down at the rash. There was a nasty little boil forming on one knuckle, begging to be popped by someone with no self control.
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The Capitol didn't even bother to keep their disregard for life or life without suffering as a secret meant that he was pretty sure that any scientific advancements came with a great cost. He said none of this aloud though, this was R's triumph.
So he distracted himself with studying the rash so much. "Try not to touch it too much, hopefully it will fade on it's own. Have they said anything about it? Those that gave you the cure?"
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"Escort said...just take," R said with a shrug. He tilted his head, the muzzle glittering under the light. Today's muzzle was seashell beige, inlaid with bronze. Or was - now most of it was caked in drool. "Good...enough."
Scabs and weird rashes and body fluids and all. Maybe it was a little weird to be glad he could share it with Shion but that was what you did when you had friends: share. He'd have to ask him later if the urge to pick at this stuff would die down in the future or this was one of those Living quirks he'd just have to get used to. What about the scars? Reaching up, he touched the large one slashed across his cheek.
"Think...go away?" R pointed at it.
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It was definitely a start though, even if a messy one. He studied the scar with a frown. "It might, as your skin begins to heal itself. It might leave a permanent mark though, it depends how deep it goes."
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His first real meal. He'd like to share that with Shion if he could, maybe visit those roses again because now the dead parts of his brain are slowly lighting up again, filling in the dusty corners with a breath of fresh air. R reached up to try cleaning some of the drool from his muzzle, pleased. As he didn't have a mirror, he might need a little help...
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He reached up to move R's hand to the right place. "There." They probably needed a cloth and a mirror if it was to be cleaned properly, he stood up and gestured for R to follow him.
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He tried to clean it out as best he could as he stumbled along after Shion. They pass a few Avoxes cleaning rooms and trying their best to blend into the wallpaper, as if they had to be invisible 24/7. R pretended he didn't see them, to be polite. (He also managed not to drool on them and ruin their hard work).
The closest bathroom was free, gleaming and with a fresh set of towels, as if someone had somehow read Shion's mind. R stopped at the door, his hand on the frame.
"Think...take cure...back home?" R suddenly blurted.
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He went over to the towels, wetting one of them in the sink so it would clean better. He blinked at R's question, he hadn't thought of that. Hadn't thought of after, if they got out of here, if they got home. If any of that was possible... then surely getting the cure to R's world would be as well.
"You could do," He turned on all the taps in an effort to distort sound a little bit. "If we manage to get home, I am sure you can take it. We could always try and find out how it is made, so that you know."
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It was natural to assume the man would help. Maybe they didn't agree on the whole undead/infected thing as being a curse or a blessing, but they were friends(ish), weren't they? R decided to show some initiate instead of sitting there waiting for something to happen, as he would've way back in his most grey, shuffling days. He reached out to take the towel from Shion, his fingers grazing against the skin of the other Tribute's hand as he made double sure he wouldn't just drop it in the sink.
He dabbed in his muzzle's general direction, trying to get as much of the drool out as possible. It felt nice - weird, but nice - to suddenly have a goal that wasn't exist for another day, eat another brain.
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"Will they not let you take it off?" He asked gesturing at the muzzle. It would be easier if they could take it off to wash it, but Shion wouldn't risk it if R thought it was a bad idea. He wasn't sure how far the cure had gone to stop his hunger.
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"No. Safety...first. Probably should...wait," R said after a pregnant pause. "Does it...bother...you?"
He hadn't thought about it. Most people seemed to stare, pretend it wasn't there and there were apparently a small faction in the Capitol who'd turned it into a new fashion statement, if their Escort was to be believed. At least she hadn't asked Shion to stick one on to match, like some weird District 4 solidarity thing.
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"Does it bother you?"
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He really had to think about it, his groan withering into silence as he withdrew into his head, his face taking that vacant expression most of his kind have when they're not gorging. The muzzle was a guarantee of safety for those he liked, such as Shion. Julie. But it was another sign he wasn't like them and it did get in the way of things like cleaning (and kissing, if you asked Howard). R's mouth turned down, sagging into a little puzzled frown.
"I won't...miss...it," R admitted. "When...I'm better."
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At least the parasite bees only killed you, and relatively quickly. Shion thought for a plague that had wiped out large numbers of No. 6 it had not been as bad as it could have been. And that was a frightening thought. What would happen if he failed... when he failed because he wasn't even there to keep Elyurius' deal. She had clearly said he must bring the city to kindness, to peace. He wasn't so egotistic to believe that people would fall back into old habbits without him there, but what if she believed him to have abandoned the city. Would she destroy it? Without him or Rat there...
And if she did decide to destroy it what would she do, something worse than the bees. It was a terrifying thought and for a moment Shion couldn't breathe. He just stood there staring at R, but not seeing him, eyes wild as he tried tried to force his mind from his train of thought and back to the conversation at hand.
"I'm glad... that they found a cure." He choked out, trying to stay in the now and not tumble down into his thoughts. R didn't need a panicking Shion on top of everything else. He tried to hang onto that thought. That soon R wouldn't have to worry, he would have a whole new load of worries, but eating his friends would not be one of them.
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"Me...too..." He stared at Shion some more, working out if he should give him space or just go out and ask. The polite, but zombie thing to do was pretend he hadn't seen anything, let the world pass him by until he got hungry enough to snatch it back. With the Cure running wild through his corpse, he thought he'd try the direct approach for once. "What's...wrong? You don't...look good...?"
He let the towel plop to the floor, turning toward his District teammate and frowning. Was it something he said? How he said it? A wrong inflection of his groaning?
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He took another breath, not even attempting a reassuring smile, he didn't think it would work. "I just worry... about my world, I don't know what is happening while I am here... it might not be good." Probably wasn't good. Especially since Rat was here too now.
At least before he could have helped, even if Rat wasn't in No. 6 he could have returned, but both of them were here now, and had no way of helping the city or any of the people.
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Frowning, he steered Shion away from the sink and to the closest seat-like thing around - in this case, an ottoman covered in District 4 teal leather. When Shion would sit in it, he'd find that it seemed to waft off a carefully manufactured sea-breeze smell. Satisfied, R shuffled over and picked the floor because it seemed a good a place as any, his head craned up to look up at Shion. Time for a pep-talk. R hadn't done many of these but practice made perfect. Besides, Shion had been there for him a bunch of times.
"Want...talk? Have...shoulder," R moaned.
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"It's just..." He gathered his words, dragging them from the confusion of his mind and trying to put them into coherent sentences.
"I was given a job before I left, it was important and... something really bad will happen if I fail and I'm here... so I can't do it and a lot of people might die." Would die, it had been a promise and one Shion would have never broken of his own choice.
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He'd had no idea things were that bad back where Shion came from, or that he'd had that level of responsibility. Shion had seemed like a nice kid, clueless, too nice for the Arena, and not very good at survival things, unfortunately. That'd been R's first impression and it hadn't changed that much over the Arena's they'd run into each other. His lips pursed into a thoughtful line behind his muzzle, sorting out what advice a zombie could possibly give.
"If...win. Can you...go back? Save...them?" R asked. That seemed the best solution, unfortunately. He tried to picture Shion being crowned as Victor and really had to struggle with the mental image.
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"Winning doesn't mean you get to go home." He blinked, because of course that was the other issue. Winning just meant you didn't have to go into the arena, winning didn't free you.
"If it did... Rat could win..." Not Shion, but if Rat won he could help them, he had been Elyrius' first choice after all.
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