open;

[alldeduction]

WHO| Sherlock and OPEN
WHAT| Sherlock is back in the capitol and he is not himself.
WHERE| Choose your own adventure
WHEN| From his death up until the end of the Arena because this is a catch all okay i'm sorry
WARNINGS| Thoughts on murder, otherwise nothing I don't think


OPTION 1: Two Days After Sherlock's Death, Before John's Death (Week 6)

It takes him two days to wake up, and his first breath is a violent one - shuddering right through to the very ends of his fingers as he drags himself back to life.

He'd thought, for half a moment, that he might not come back at all. That perhaps now the Capitol would tire of him, or consider him too much of a threat, and would finally let him go. But of course they kept him now. Now that they had what they wanted. Now that they'd broken him.

He could have sulked - he was a master sulker - but he was too afraid of the own dark depths of his thoughts, in those moments, so he instead dressed himself and left his room in a haze. Out through the suite, down the elevator, out of the tower. He barely looked back.

He just took to the streets like a tall pale ghost, robed in black.

He needed to think.

OPTION 2: Common Room while John's Death is being televised (Week 6)

He'd taken to watching the Games in the common room, instead of in his suite. He sat silently, long coat pulled up around him, feet up on the edge of the chair, front row and center. Sometimes he muttered low commentary but mostly he said nothing, content to cradle the popcorn in his arms and chew slowly, mindlessly.

If anyone tried to change the feed from watching John and Joan, however, he would snap suddenly and violently.

Howard wasn't the only one who could throw popcorn.

OPTION 3: After John's Returned. Wherever you like! (Week 7 - End of the Games)

He's more himself after John comes back. The strange edgy darkness at the corner of his eyes has been beaten back. He seems, and acts, more like he did before the last arena. Flippant. Dickish. But himself. Or at least so it appeared.

He still spent a good deal of time watching the Games, but he's started to be more social again. To try to prepare himself for the next time. Because there will be a next time, and another, and another. He would say that this was his own personal hell except it wasn't - everyone else was trapped here with him.

Comments

[option 2]

[mediumdrip]

Blaine didn't try to change the feed. He knew he could keep updated about how Kurt was doing other ways.

He silently sat next to Sherlock and set a cup of tea next to him before focusing on his own coffee. It wasn't much, and he wasn't even sure if Sherlock would notice it, but he needed to do something for Sherlock.

He couldn't change anything that was happening to his friends in the Arena, after all. The sense of powerlessness was something he had already gotten used to.

[alldeduction]

Sherlock seemed to ignore him completely, for a long time, his eyes glued to the television set and hands wrapped around his knees, treating Blaine as if he was absolutely invisible.

He didn't even seem to take notice of the tea, at least not at first. But after a long moment, and without moving his eyes from the screen, he said:

"You realise we are veterans, now? I can count on one hand the tributes still in the games that have been in more arenas than us. And we're growing fewer by the day."

[mediumdrip]

Blaine sighed after a moment. "We'll see how long it takes for the Capitol to get bored of us too," he pointed out.

He curled up his legs and watched the screen too. He felt very small over the idea. He didn't want to think back on all of the times he had died, or contemplate what the body he was in now was.

[alldeduction]

"That does seem to be the trick, doesn't it," Sherlock murmured, almost half to himself and half to Blaine. "Though I find it difficult to determine exactly what keeps their interest."

And then, a second later, a completely different thought: "I saw Kurt was brought back. And Aunamee. So not all decisions are permanent, it seems."

[mediumdrip]

Blaine nodded. "I don't know what I should think about Kurt being back," he admitted. "I'm glad that he's okay though. I don't really think that they go home like we're told."

He looked over to the Avox nearby. Somehow, he thought that that wasn't the worst that the Capitol could do to a person and it was pretty bad.

[alldeduction]

He couldn't help but follow Blaine's eye to the Avox, glancing at the solemn figure before averting his gaze to the floor.

He treated their silent keepers quite a bit more kindly than he had before.

"No, nor do I. I do not think it is a situation that is reversed. In fact, I doubt we are even missing from our original worlds at all."

option 2 (of course)

[xanthous]

Seeing people in the common room watching the Games isn't really new. He doesn't quite know the man sitting there, but he recognizes him. They share the same district, don't they? Even if there's really no meaning to that.

He's quiet for a while, simply content to watch the Games and watch Sherlock, but after him snapping at some poor unfortunate soul, he has to ask.

"Tho what'th your problem with thothe two? It'th not like changing the feed to thomething more interethting will keep either of them from biting it."

[alldeduction]

"I have no problem with them, they are my friends," Sherlock snapped, emphasizing the word in a way that likely made it clear that he really wasn't a person that could boast of many.

He didn't look over as Psiioniic, kept his eyes resolutely glued to the screen even though a vein seemed to twitch in his neck.

"I would prefer they refrain from 'biting it', thank you very much."

[xanthous]

"You know, it almotht thoundth like what friendth are on Alternia." Of course, Sherlock probably doesn't know the Alternian word for friend and enemy are the same.

He doesn't mind that Sherlock doesn't look over at him, because it's so much easier to focus on small ticks when you don't need to make eye contact.

"There can only be one winner, tho really, at leatht one of them ith gonna croak."

[alldeduction]

He was about to ask if Alternia was the troll homeworld but got distracted by the blunt reminder that all his friends were going to die and he finally turned his head to glare over at him.

"I'm very well aware of the game we are playing. But there have been two winners before, and where there is will and precedent, there is a way."

[xanthous]

He knows that much, and he just gives Sherlock the sunniest smile he can. Maybe he shouldn't be such an ass because they share the same district, but...He's just being honest with him.

"I wouldn't be tho thtupidly optimithtic if I were you. It'll jutht make you more upthet when you thee their final momentth."

[alldeduction]

"Don't mistake me for an optimist." He says, flatly. "I've watched your death three times, Psiioniic. I've felt my own five times, seen John's three, and Joan's once. I've seen nearly every tribute that has come and gone die multiple times. I am not an optimist."

He's also giving away a little bit about how obsessive he was to someone he'd barely said two words to, but... well, oops.

He turns his head and glares back at the screen.

"It's all data, and I need it. Otherwise I will keep losing every chance of survival."

Option 2

[fire_punk]

Kevin did change the feed. He was honestly trying to do his job, even though he didn't have a very good idea what he was doing. And to do that, he needed to see how his remaining tributes were doing.

The flying popcorn caught him by surprise. He blinked and scowled at Sherlock. "What was that for?"

Re: Option 2

[alldeduction]

"Don't change the channel," Sherlock snapped, flying up out of his chair only to stomp over and change it back to John and Joan. He paused for a second, checking them over completely before satisfying himself that they hadn't gained a mortal injury in the few seconds since he had last seen them, before throwing himself back in his chair and grabbing his popcorn.

"I am watching."

Re: Option 2

[fire_punk]

"You can watch them later." He glared at the man as he changed the channel again. "I got people I have to keep alive."

Re: Option 2

[alldeduction]

"So do I," Sherlock hissed harshly, before throwing a whole handful of popcorn at him and changing the channel back.

"As if your attention helped me at all! Go be useless somewhere else!"

Re: Option 2 - Eliot, you are not Kevin!

[fire_punk]

"I can't do anything about someone killing you!" He changed the channel back to showing their district. "But if they need something else and I don't know... I'm tired of people dying because of me!" He threw the first thing he could grab at Sherlock. Fortunately, it was just a throw cushion.

[Option 3, duh]

[drpsychosomatic]

John woke up in the capitol far less hazy than he had previously. Though part of him was comfortable to linger in miserable uncertainty rather than find evidence that Sherlock was dead, it was a false comfort he found fairly easy to crush. He made his way immediately to Sherlock's suite, pulse pounding.

[alldeduction]

Sherlock had watched the entirety of John's death in the common room and had returned to his own room sullen and despondent. He knew it would be a while before John regenerated (and he would, he had to), so he resigned himself to wait.

He lay on his bed, staring at his ceiling, his door wide open so he could hear any sounds from the hall.

[drpsychosomatic]

"Sherlock," he called out, not bothering to hide the urgency in his voice or wait until he was close enough to see if he was in there or not. "Sherlock- are you in there..."

[alldeduction]

"I'm here," He replied, not quite calling back but loud enough that he was sure John could hear him. The relief was palpable enough to taste.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood, adjusting his clothes before stepping towards the door. "I'm right here, John, it's fine--"

[drpsychosomatic]

Relief flooded over him so thickly he didn't know what to do with himself. He burst into Sherlock's room and slung his arms around him, embracing him tightly as if it was the only way he'd be certain he was real, his chest heaving against Sherlock's and his face buried in his shoulder.

Late option 2 because Evil??????? If that's okay.

[andproper]

Prim didn't like watching people die on television. She hated it, actually - though she knew better to change the channel. It wasn't just that certain people were watching... no. Prim was just certain they watched people watching. Prim didn't want to be the one seen changing the channel, squirming. They'd know... Still. Seeing people hurt, it's hard not to reach a hand toward the remote control...

[alldeduction]

(( OOC: I kind of already have a bunch of threads happening in that time period, and was hoping to weave John's death into one that I'd already developed to a point where it would be interesting, sorry. ))

[andproper]

(OOC: No worries. We'll thread another time, i guess~)