thecapitol | open!

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Who| Carlos and YOU.
What| Carlos looks for a proper lab coat and tape recorder and also does some exploring. He has a lot of questions, and not just for direction to the marketplace.
Where| Tribute center and the streets of the Capitol. Wednesday he'll be looking for the Districts marketplace. Thursday he's just exploring.
When| Wednesday afternoon and all day Thursday of week 4.
Warnings/Notes| None for now, but on Thursday, he will be in a lab coat and talking to a little white box in his hand about the landmarks around him.

After being killed in the Arena, Carlos hadn't really wanted to go outside his assigned living space. It was a relief to be alive and animate, sure. Carlos wasn't taking that for granted. It was just that -- well, he'd never died before. Trying not to think about it wasn't working, thanks to a lifetime of aggressively critical thinking and a year of resolutely staring the horrifying in the face. He had practically trained himself to be unable to ignore the things that unsettled him the most.

How did they bring me back? he had wondered, staring down at his folded hands as he sat too-still on the bed they said was his. Did they collect my body and reanimate it? Or am I an identical copy, with memories that belong to someone else? How can I be sure that I am the same person who died in the museum? But that only led to more unanswerable questions and a heavy sense of existential dread, neither of which Carlos could quite shake.

So, when the sun came up the next morning, Carlos took a hot shower, dressed in the plainest clothes he could find and set off to explore the city. After all, a scientist should always be familiar with his surroundings and absolutely could not lose a full day to an existential crisis. The first order of business was to find himself a proper lab coat. That way, everyone would know he was a scientist. Then, he had to find a tape recorder. Even if pens and pencils weren't banned here, Carlos had honestly preferred making voice notes.

However, this city was both large and unfamiliar, and Carlos's purposeful strides soon turned to more hesitant steps as the Capitol's buildings began to tower over him. He recognized none of it, and would be asking for directions along his way for most of Wednesday.

Thursday was more relaxed: lab coat and voice recorder acquired, Carlos's goal for that day was to gain a working knowledge of the city layout. Expect to find him exploring both the broad avenues and smaller surface-streets, never really stopping to go into any of the buildings. Instead, he seems to prefer standing in front of them, talking to a small white box in his hand and acting as though this behavior is perfectly normal.

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He may not be from District 4, but Finnick recognized Carlos right away. He made a note of finding out when he had talked with Cecil about the tribute he was infatuated with. He also knew that Carlos had died and come back to the Capitol and now he was lucky enough to come across him right here in the Tribute Center. He was curious, but wanted to be gentle about approaching someone newly dead.

"Carlos, right? From District 10?"

Carlos turned when he heard his name, not sure if he should be surprised or not. After all, he'd been in a small town for nearly a year, and everyone who listened to Cecil Palmer's radio show knew his name. But here he was a stranger, right? This was a big city, and there were dozens of people in that museum. Surely he wouldn't be on first-name terms with the entire Capitol.

"That's me," he said, meeting the stranger's gaze with curiosity.

"Welcome back to the Capitol. I'm Finnick Odair, I'm a mentor for District 4, but I've heard a lot about you so far."

He assumed Carlos knew he'd caught the eye of a very enthusiastic radio host who was spreading talk of him all over the Capitol. That didn't make it any less unsettling, but Finnick didn't want to push too hard.

"Are you adjusting to being back alright?"

Carlos held out a hand politely. "Thank you. I'm -- " no need to introduce yourself, he already knows you, and probably already knows that you're a scientist-- "...pleased to meet you." He didn't assume Cecil yet: if this Finnick is a mentor, then he probably paid attention to the tributes and knew about him from there.

But then again, the Cecil here did have a radio show. And if Cecil had a radio show, the odds were heavily in the favor of Cecil having mentioned him already. Really, Finnick could have heard of Carlos from either place, and since Carlos didn't particularly want to bring up Cecil, he didn't ask. Instead, he decided to answer Finnick's question.

"It's odd," Carlos admitted honestly, "coming back to life. I've never seen anything like this, and I've seen a lot of strange things over the past year. But nothing like this has happened to me before."

"If it makes you feel any better we haven't really seen anything like it either, at least until we started taking you tributes from your worlds and bringing you here. But I guess I'm grateful to not have to experience it myself."

He took Carlos's hand firmly and turned it into a friendly half hug and a hearty pat on his shoulder. There was some solidarity to be shared here. Finnick could see more easily than most that Carlos was going to be bid on, and possibly not just by Cecil.

"There are some experiences here that I can share with you, even if you're not one of my tributes. If you ever need advice from someone who's been down the long road, let me know. And I can probably help keep Cecil off your back if you need it."

Ah. So it was Cecil. The response is immediate and visible -- not horror or disgust, but a tired sort of resignation. It's an old embarrassment, one he was surprised to find here but is honestly used to. "No," he says, shaking his head. "Don't worry about Cecil. I can handle it. I knew someone very much like him in the last dimension I was in, and he was never a problem. Just a little embarrassing."

Carlos hasn't begun to guess at what the tributes go through outside of the Arena: no one has told him about bidding yet. He thinks the worst he'll have to deal with is ardent and slightly-creepy but easily ignored romantic overtures.

Finnick wasn't convinced Carlos knew what he was in for. But it probably wasn't the time to tell him what he was in for.

"Just know that you're not alone here, that can help. And Cecil doesn't mean any harm, he's just extremely overzealous. It happens to a lot of people who live in this city their whole lives."

He also wanted to hammer home that Cecil wasn't the same man Carlos thought he knew. They might be similar, but they couldn't be exactly the same.

Carlos caught Finnick's meaning. This Cecil wasn't the same as the one from Night Vale. Half an hour over coffee had been enough to convince Carlos of that. He wasn't sure how he felt about it, and didn't particularly want to examine it, but it felt too akin to disappointment for comfort.

Finnick's friendliness was certainly appreciated, though. Actually, Finnick was the first person Carlos had encountered outside of the Arena who was treating him like a human being and not a -- a trained animal who did interesting tricks. That made Carlos, who had an incredible amount of questions, want to direct those questions at him. "You said you were from District 4, correct? Meaning that you lived there before you were brought here for the Games?"

Finnick just might be able to tell him about the world outside the Capitol, something Carlos was very interested in hearing about. He knew something already, about a District Thirteen that looked dead but wasn't, but Carlos couldn't for the life of him place where that knowledge had come from, and he didn't trust it, not without outside validation.

"Yes, I even lived there for a little while after I won." Finnick told him with a smirk. "One might even say I'm still from District 4."

He knows a bit about Carlos from what Cecil had told him and he could see the interest and the desire for information and knowledge that he had heard about here and there. Finnick could guess where this was going.

"Did you have some questions about Panem?"

"Naturally," said Carlos, breaking into a smile -- a friendly smile, quite nice. "Speaking as a scientist, and also speaking as someone who is effectively trapped here for an indeterminate amount of time, I'd like to know more about where I am. The thing is...I have a lot of questions. Do you have time to answer them?"

Edited 2014-02-20 06:38 (UTC)

"I will have to get back to my tributes eventually, but I can answer a few things for you. Just don't tell your Mentor that I was helping, and if you get the chance, I would appreciate you putting a good word for me in with Cecil. Not that I really need it, but you never know."

Carlos is just getting life lessons all over regarding Panem. Especially about the importance of information and the acquiring thereof.

"Consider it done." Carlos was a little puzzled by the request, but then again, Cecil was a bad enemy to have, and his impression of Finnick so far was quite good. Carlos wouldn't mind namedropping Finnick as someone who'd been willing to help Carlos, as a newcomer, out.

"There are an infinite number of things to know about this place," says Carlos. "The history, the technology, the government -- but I also want to know what it's like where you come from, in the Districts outside the Capitol. I know what their industries are -- livestock, textiles, power, et cetera, Four is fish if I'm not mistaken -- but what is it like to live there?"

This city did not support itself, that much was clear. It imported all its supplies from its territories. The Capitol was lush and rich, yes, but several standard warning signs for "dystopia" were painfully obvious. A murder game broadcast for public entertainment, consumption to the point of excess, and constant surveillance had already been checked off in a neat little row on the Futuristic Oppressive Regime bingo card. If the Districts were provided for and content, Carlos would be very surprised.

Finnick wants Cecil wrapped around his little finger so he has a direct line to the Capitol to help his tributes among other things. He's also fairly sure Cecil has access to information he wants that would be difficult or impossible to get otherwise.

"That's something of a loaded question. I don't know how to describe something that's normal to me. But I suppose compared to being in the Capitol it's a lot simpler. A lot of people fish, but that's not the only industry we have. The people are friendly and they look nothing like the majority of people here. The clothes and makeup and hair you see here doesn't happen in the rest of Panem. I had a couple of changes of clothes growing up, but not one for every day of the week. And I learned how to swim in the ocean and make nets out of necessity, not as a fun diversion."

He wasn't sure what all Carlos was getting at, did he want specific details or broader strokes? Either way, he was going to get Finnick's view of his own district and no one else's.

Yup, check poverty and deprivation of the underclass off on that bingo card. Unfortunately, it would be hard to ask Finnick further questions with the Capitol listening in. Carlos takes a breath, choosing his words carefully.

"That doesn't sound easy. Not as easy as growing up in the Capitol would have been."

There, that was innocuous enough, right?

Finnick was a lot more fast and loose with that when it came to talking about the Districts. He knew that information that would make the Capitol look bad wouldn't get out and he could hardly be in trouble for it at this point.

"Living here has it's own set of challenges, but then, you'll figure that out soon enough. We're all supposed to want to live here, but no one who spends a lot of time here really wants to stay."

He had to admire that Carlos was intelligent enough to not want to rock the boat. He might yet be more useful than he seemed.

Oh, no. Carlos really wanted to ask what the downside to living in the Capitol was. He opened his mouth, then -- well, thought better of it. He didn't have his permits, here. There was no vague yet menacing government agency that had his back against the local dictatorship. He would have to be more careful here.

"I've gotten by in worse places," he said honestly. "The town I lived and worked in for about a year, Night Vale, it -- it had a government very similar to this one, with similar methods of law enforcement."

Finnick raised an eyebrow at Carlos. He had heard things here and there about other places, but nothing too in depth.

"I can't say I'm too surprised, it works doesn't it? Nothing keeps people quiet and obedient quite like taking tongues out."

"Is that the most common punishment here?" asked Carlos, frowning. "They preferred imprisonment and re-education in Night Vale."

"What's more educational than losing the ability to speak?"

He was trying to make something of a joke out of it. What else could he do? It was the reality of being in the Capitol.

Carlos winced.

"I was never brought in for re-education myself. I wasn't a citizen of Night Vale and I was working under the jurisdiction of a vague yet menacing government agency, which left me with some diplomatic immunity. So, I can't say what it involves, not really. You survive the process, and you keep your tongue, but...that's all I know."

A shrug. Carlos didn't seem cavalier about the subject, not exactly -- just pragmatic and very used to his own dystopia.

That sounded like a lot strange things and Finnick wasn't sure how to take it.

"Sounds a little barbaric, even by our standards. But just remember that when you're reeducated around here you won't like how it ends up."

Not that he thought being reeducated in any way was a desired result for anyone.

"Thanks for the warning," said Carlos. "And thank you for coming to speak with me. I'll be sure to put in a good word for you with Cecil -- you've been nothing but helpful to me." He smiled, genuine and dazzling.

"I'm glad to help, even if you aren't from my district. I know how much help Tributes really need. And if you need anything, let me know. Sometimes it's easier to help those outside my district than inside it."

He meant that sincerely, he wasn't trying to mock Carlos. For all that he knew Carlos could be of some use to him, he also didn't want to throw him under the bus. No one deserved to be in the Arena and he wasn't about to glorify it to get a little advantage for himself.

"I'll remember," said Carlos with an almost-surprised but definitely grateful smile.

"Well -- I really should get back to my search. It was good to meet you. Your name was Finnick, right?"

"Finnick Odair, but just Finnick is fine. Most people will be able to find me with that much."

He was kind of a big deal, people knew him. And after what Cecil did in the last arena, Carlos was as well. It wasn't necessarily the best position to be in, for either of them.

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youbarium - 2014-04-22 05:13 (UTC) - Expand

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