biiowiired: my mood ii2 actually ok riight now (look glow)
The Ψiioniic / The Helmsman ([personal profile] biiowiired) wrote in [community profile] thecapitol2015-01-05 10:36 pm

There are materials enough in every mind....

Who| The Ψiioniic [personal profile] biiowiired & YOU
What| Psii can't sleep and tries to fill in time he would normally spend coding. See Psii doing more than one activity if you wish. Also there are tribbles.
Where| Anywhere in the Tribute Tower. Pick a specific location if you wish.
When| jan 03 and after. Pick a date and put it your subject header.
Warnings/Notes| language (always with Psii), hypomania, talk of death, attempted animal harm (thanks Jason), mention of buckets in relation to troll reproduction (it's canon i swear)

Whether Psii wanted to admit it or not, he only holed himself up half the time. The other half, he needed conversation, some sort of social contact. Psii was a troll of opposites and extremes, avoiding people only to pester them two hours later. After resting from the mental trials of dying for the first time, he finally left the stifling confines of his respiteblock, thoughts racing.

He couldn't sleep, weighed down by the experience of dying only to come back still a slave in Panem. He couldn't code, the Peacekeepers being on the lookout for hackers. He couldn't speak his mind, when even his outspoken preacher friend told him to lay low. So Psii careened down a sleepless path of quietly frenetic activity with whatever else he could get his hands on. At all hours of the day and night he could often be seen doing two things at once to stave off perceived boredom, heavily shadowed mismatched eyes flicking back and forth with equal attention. His lip curled around his fangs in deep thought.

He was a rodent spinning its wheel and going nowhere fast.

Reading; anywhere

He would sit in the common area, the bar, the rooftop garden, surrounded by piles of books from the library. He was rapidly familiarizing himself with the flora and fauna of this planet. Know thy enemy and all that. He'd also checked out e-books and videos, though he opted to insert them in his communicator rather than hog the television in the common area. It chattered information away, mostly general overviews of past arenas.

Psii was mostly interested in what environments and hazards the Gamemakers preferred, rather than individual track records. Suspicious of everyone though he may be, he wasn't ready to turn on his fellow Tributes unless they attacked him outright. He'd seen infighting among slaves in squalid conditions, but it was more useful to work together, at least temporarily. Anyone with half a brain could see that, even without being a fucking genius like him.

He'd hear footsteps nearby and stop drumming fingers on a book to point to some video or other, his words lisping out rapid-fire, "Look, they had an arena in a retail complexth, what the fuck...."

Drawing; anywhere inside

He procured some paper and began to frenetically scribble equations and fractals in red and blue pen. He had enough math and physics to occupy himself without showing too much intelligence. Flight patterns and gravitational calculations were ok, but programming languages were not. He wasn't going to be arrested and executed like that hacker Brainiac. He spent too much time laying low under the Alternian Empire to be caught by mere humans. His hands would tremble slightly, mirroring his head filled with thoughts shouting over each other even without prophetic voices muscling their way in.

Soon he had a growing pile of intricate but ultimately useless chicken scratches strewn about him. He could come up with new codes in his head, but no way was he putting down on paper what could get him caught.

Knitting/weaving; anywhere

His interest in fractals and geometry lead him to knitting, weaving, anything he could teach himself with minimal tools. This also kept his hands steady whenever they would be hit with shaking from his racing thoughts. He perched his communicator on a table to display some tutorials and got busy creating anything but clothes. His interest lay in repeating loops of shapes, not wearable couture. Fashion was Dolorosa's deal, not his.

A simple but oddly soothing esoteric yarn atrocity grew from clever scarred fingers to cascade over his knobby knees to the floor. He could see himself making a hobby out of this, if only it wasn't so useless to him. Perhaps he could find some way to work a code in it, but he hesitated to risk that.

Tribbles; anywhere inside at night

Psii was on his way towards the living blocks. Everyone else was asleep, but he was still on a nocturnal clock, awake as a live wire. It was quiet enough that any untoward noise would be noticed, even by someone who wasn't as paranoid as Psii. A soft coo ululated from the wall.

"Mother Grub'th thecond thphincter, what ith it now...." he groan-whispered to himself.

He stepped lightly to the room on the other side of the wall. Something sat in a corner nearly out of sight next to some crumbs. Certainly no one without nightvision would have noticed, but for the cooing. The furry ball didn't run when he appeared or when he took a step closer. He blinked, then looked around trying to find someone to quickly wave over so they could explain this mystery to him.

Gaming; District 9

Psii missed his husktop with the besotted ache of a stranded lover. His codes, his games, his porn was on there. Though he was hesitant out of pure spite to do what the Capitol provided for him, the siren's call of technology pulled him to the gaming consoles in his district's common area. The heart-racing virtual combat and hidden strategy of a first-person shooter should occupy his over-active mind. He fired up the highest-rated game he saw and wrapped long grey fingers around a controller, adjusting to a shape that was similar-but-not-really to ones he'd used at home.

"....Wow thith shit'th primitive. What kind of two-bit engine are they uthing for thethe graphicth?"
ka_sera_sera: (old general young general sunset)

reading, rooftop garden, jan 4th

[personal profile] ka_sera_sera 2015-01-06 03:15 pm (UTC)(link)
Roland doesn't come up here very often. This is where tributes go to grieve, to wear their sadness in privacy because, artificial as it is, this place is still almost beautiful. He'd come here after Cuthbert had died for good, can pick out the spot by the edge where he'd sat and thought of his oldest friend and watched the sun set. It's rising now, but the look of it in the sky is similar enough.

Dawn and dusk are strange times for Roland, the look of the sky just then having strange associations. When he looks out a window at the wrong time, wakes to find himself drawn to the roof only to see the sky looking exactly the same as it had in that dream...

Well, he can be forgiven for being a little distracted, can't he? His mind wouldn't have wandered so far that he wouldn't have noticed if something truly important had happened. The look of that sky isn't enough to overcome all his old reflexes, surely. So that must be alright.

"What?" He blinks, focuses, realizes there's a person right there with noise coming out of the machine on their wrist, and determinedly ignores his unease that both those things had gone so unnoticed. He goes back over what'd been said, frowning. "I don't know what that is, but it can't be so strange. They've set arenas in all sorts of places."
ka_sera_sera: (old general Blue Steel)

[personal profile] ka_sera_sera 2015-01-07 06:16 pm (UTC)(link)
Roland takes a silent, frowning moment to figure the phrase - a longer moment, he knows, than he'd usually need - and then snorts. He half-turns from the troll, eyes focused away, and takes another couple steps toward the skyline, in no mood to put up with the verbal pricks of a verbal prick who seems determined to try and annoy him.

"Those say it all, don't they?" His hand gives a quick, jerking wave toward those books he'd glimpsed. "If you'd have your fill of exaggerated horseshit you need look no further. Though there are better places to sit while you dig it out." He pulls his gaze back just enough to raise his eyebrows at the troll, pointedly. There are times Roland couldn't give less of a shit that someone's trying to piss him off. There are even times when it amuses him. This, right now, is neither.

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voiceinthephone: http://nuv0le-rapide.livejournal.com/14427.html ([Sneaking])

Tribble hunting in the Common area?

[personal profile] voiceinthephone 2015-01-06 06:59 pm (UTC)(link)
Psii wasn't the only night owl roaming around as a certain night guard was hounding for Ny-Quil or anything to knock him out. So many years surviving at the Pizzeria left Gray with night terrors and falling asleep during the day. So for him to spot anyone else, much less a sentient dust bunny, was an achievement in his endurance.

"Huh?"

After meeting Karkat, trolls were still a learning experience for Phil, so he was wary to approach Psii with his usual self.
voiceinthephone: http://nuv0le-rapide.livejournal.com/14427.html ([Nope])

[personal profile] voiceinthephone 2015-01-07 04:58 am (UTC)(link)
One look at the Tribble and Gray rubbed his eyes for a moment, "I was going to suggest a baby Mogwai but that would be too much for this world." After hearing Sandy's story about chestbursters, the last thing the tower needed was Gremlins running around. Wow, he actually gave that thought merit, he's DEFINITELY running on fumes. "What the ever-loving God is that?"

Alcohol was an amazing sleep aid if caffeine wasn't involved in any way. He signaled Psii to edge through the wall, while he discarded his drink to capture the creature.

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whatisay: (Basic - I Glances)

Tribbles

[personal profile] whatisay 2015-01-07 01:19 am (UTC)(link)
Jason's seen Psiioniic around a few times, but as that's not his Tribute, he's done little more than silently bemoan that none of his own stock have shown the slightest interest in the arts yet. It's not that Jason gives a sweet damn about drawing or knitting, it's just that it would be something to dangle in front of Sponsors and market, and the most he's got is a comely blonde who can supposedly make cookies.

At least it doesn't seem like Psii's creating any masterpieces, and Jason can comfort himself a little bit with that. He's mostly ignoring the guy as he passes through the Tribute Center lobby to start work before the sun rises, but then the troll has to go and make sounds and Jason overhears whether he likes it or not.

"Oh, is it another one of those? Tell the Avoxes to write up a report and they'll get an exterminator in here." He walks over and reaches a foot out to squash the Tribble like a bug under his heel.
whatisay: (Angry - Shitfit)

[personal profile] whatisay 2015-01-07 05:04 am (UTC)(link)
The reaction is as immediate as if Psii had set sparks to magnesium. Jason wrenches his foot away, nearly losing his balance from the force of it.

"Don't touch me." Were this his own Tribute, Jason would have backhanded Psiioniic already. As it stands, he glares and sneers with a loathing that clearly stems from more than just the one action. "Tribute."

He spits the word as if it were a curse before looking back to the Tribble.

"It's vermin. Get over your sentimentality. All it does is breed, and it's not even good for that."

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groundassault: (004)

Gaming; D9 Common Area; January 6th

[personal profile] groundassault 2015-01-07 05:22 am (UTC)(link)
Being thrown into the middle of a death match, that was nothing new for Ric. Dying and waking up, that had been a little more unusual, but it wasn't like he hadn't heard of that before - he knew some guys, and girls (not so final death knows no gender boundaries). It was the inactivity that was getting to him; hadn't taken long to figure out that hacking was off the table, television just wasn't the same without Star's commentary to make it more entertaining, there were no cases to investigate, and it wasn't like he knew anybody well enough to have a beer together and give them shit. He'd say it was fucked up that periods of peace made him nervous about what horrible thing was going to happen next, but considering where he was? He'd say it was justified.

Even he had his limit for how much time he could could spend staring at the ceiling and sulking - brooding manfully, he brooded manfully - about the latest in a long line of weird shit that happened to him, so Ric grumbled to himself, pulled his shit together, and went to go see if he could at least find a little human company.

Human, that he didn't find, but when you were a mutant hanging out with other mutants, dating an alien, you didn't get that picky about it. Gaming consoles weren't really his thing, give him a computer and a secure server just waiting to be cracked open any day, but it was still something. He watched the... whatever he was... already playing for a second, smirking, before speaking up. "I've heard that one. First it's the graphics, then there's lag, then your controller is broken. There's nothing wrong with manning up and admitting it's user error." Hey, he didn't say he wanted to get along with the human, or not-so-human, company. Just that he wanted it.
a_minute_younger: (alsdfjFUCK)

boarding the tribble train

[personal profile] a_minute_younger 2015-01-07 09:45 pm (UTC)(link)
Gary was planning to be good tonight, he really was. No roaming about town into the early hours of dawn, no twelve-hour video game binges, no midnight runs to the other floors. He's in his pajamas, even, when he comes creeping through the darkened halls that Psii is leaning halfway out of, as he has been since the lights went out. The sound of cooing is what's drawn him here.

"Bruiser?" The teen is tiptoeing, but he's not exactly keeping his presence a secret. "Is that you, you adorable little dipshit?" Gary lowers his voice to a mumble. "Last time I take you out for a walk. Fucking hell..."

There's another coo of the tribble and he perks up. That sounded close. "Bruiser?" Gary quickens his pace, zeroes in on the room where the calls are coming from. Unfortunately it's pitch-black in there and Psii is still near the doorway. Gary runs straight into him.

"Jesus!"
a_minute_younger: (huh)

[personal profile] a_minute_younger 2015-01-20 10:26 pm (UTC)(link)
Gary weakly swats away the hands pushing him out of the room, more out of principle than actual protest. At least the proximity lets him rationalize what's going on here--this is the work of a person (or one of those people who think they're an alien, anyways), not, in fact, the work of some kind of specter lurking in the shadows. Gary reacts accordingly.

"Ah--geeze, man!" There's more purposeful swatting aimed at any lingering limbs by his person. Gary's just going to quietly ignore that Psii thinks he's blind. So rude! "What are you hanging around in the dark for? Who does that?"

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infinitemayonnaise: (i am not terribly enthusiastic about thi)

Tribbles

[personal profile] infinitemayonnaise 2015-01-08 12:34 am (UTC)(link)
Nitou's been roaming at night lately. Between the trauma that was his first Arena and the fact that he's more comfortable bedding down in a tent than a fluffy Capitol bed, sleep hasn't been easy.

But that's okay, because that means he can prowl around the Tower in search of a good midnight snack. He's in the process of getting back to his room with his snack of the hour, a sandwich he's in the middle of squirting a bunch of mayonnaise on top of, when he hears that cooing noise. Though he'd really rather go back to his room and eat the sandwich, he's got to investigate. You just don't let mysterious cooing go uninvestigated.

He spots the Psiionic first. (Okay, he spots a shadowy shape in the dark, but that shape wasn't there earlier, so he's assuming it's a person of some sort.) "Hey, you're not doing all that cooing, are you?" he asks as he takes a bite of that sandwich he's carrying around.
infinitemayonnaise: (i am not terribly enthusiastic about thi)

[personal profile] infinitemayonnaise 2015-01-18 04:55 am (UTC)(link)
Nitou's dealt with weird monsters before...mostly through fighting them and then magically eating them. But he doesn't have Chimera inside him demanding food, and the other guy isn't exactly jumping out as being some kind of threat there. He's cool with the horns and fangs for now.

He is, however, thoroughly confused by that weird buglike trill, because that is not at all what he expected. "Uh..."

But he takes the furry ball and listens to it as instructed. "Weird." He's flipping the ball this way and that, trying to figure out what's going on here. "You got any idea what it is?"

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reassures: (fade ☙ 'til i can't even see you)

gaming, d9. the 3rd?

[personal profile] reassures 2015-01-10 06:05 am (UTC)(link)
Well, Psii thought they might be seeing a fair amount of each other at night, and he was right. It's nearly 4am, and Nill has been trying and failing to sleep for hours, which is about her issue every day since she got back from the Arena. It's just rare that anyone else is actually awake at this hour - usually the only person around for company is Linden, and that's only on the rooftop, and Nill hasn't been the best at doing that as of late.

Needless to say, Nill looks tired and sleep-deprived when she wanders out of her room, but she goes to the living room almost immediately, and takes a seat nearby to look over the graphics that are apparently awful. After a moment of looking it over she frowns.

...He's right, actually. She's seen better graphics than that, and she would have expected nicer from the Capitol. Maybe they didn't prioritize games like this much.
reassures: (dim ☙ pushed by a breeze)

[personal profile] reassures 2015-01-20 11:57 am (UTC)(link)
Nill had certainly caught her fair share of brutal deaths from unintentionally listening in on Psii's head. She tried not to, honestly, but more emotional things were difficult to keep out, even if Psii wasn't exactly the one that was emotional in that regard. Despite it she had never considered that he would catch glimpses of her death. It wouldn't have mattered much if he'd seen it before it happened - she was doomed the moment she and Karkat ran into the xenomorph that stabbed her.

But Nill knew that he was still alive when she died. She'd watched the rest of the Arena for the most part too, in between smoking copious amounts and drinking as needed. She'd seen Psii and the Signless at the safety bunker. He was at least in part responsible for the Signless's victory.

Thankfully she had enough foresight to bring her notepad out with her.

I'm sorry you saw that.
I'm fine.


She's sort of not, but that's only really half because she had died. Otherwise she's coping for the most part.

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carnagecarnival: (Return me to a lonely womb.)

Tribbles

[personal profile] carnagecarnival 2015-01-18 03:31 am (UTC)(link)
He's just making on walking by. All this time and he still runs on night timing too. It'd be hard not to, what with getting reset every damn death. Other than that, he's approaching fine again, horns back and all.

Approaching, but maybe not so close as he thinks, when he sees the Psiioniic a second too late and the Psiioniic sees him and he can't just turn around.

He spots the tribble. His face goes from antlerbeast in frontal vehicular lighting to entirely blank. Mostly because he can't reconcile quite how he feels seeing this troll holding a tribble. Again.
carnagecarnival: (fade to the background)

[personal profile] carnagecarnival 2015-01-23 09:35 pm (UTC)(link)
It's the most promising reaction he's managed to pull from the Psiioniic since he got here. Still of fear, still not exactly welcoming, but less angry. Less fit with threat. So far.

His hands go up, palm empty, meaning no harm. "NO. I wouldn't. GOT SOME OF MINE OWN, ACTUALLY," He assures, quick. Got the first of theirs togetherlike, by Terezi's gifting to them.

And that's when he realises the tribble he's seeing is being exactly the same. Stripped black and yellow, like the huamn's bees.

"She got you that one, Terezi did. LONG TIME AGO. Made all motherfucking purchase lain down at with Pasha. IF ANYONE TRIES AT TO TAKE IT, CAN BE CALLING ON FOR THEFT. That tribble ain't no one's but yours."

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