thecapitol | [OPEN ] ► Central Commons

Entry tags:

[OPEN ] ► Central Commons | New Arrival

WHO| Lindsey and OPEN
WHAT| New arrival appears.
WHEN| Sometime during Arena Day 6, after Eliot's bidding talk-to
WHERE| Central Commons, right through the front door
WARNINGS/NOTES| Mistaken identities, possible rudeness, you know, general pleasantries.

Hell was a lot more pleasant than Lindsey first anticipated it to be, at least, this one he landed into. Aside from the whole fight to the death and possibly die repeatedly for the entertainment of Hell's —Panem, need to get the dimension name right— denizens, it really wasn't that bad. Could've been worse, like get tortured to death for their entertainment instead.

Looking at the grandeur of the 'jail' he landed himself in, blue eyes traveling over the colorful decor of new age interior design, he decided he could definitely learn to relax here. It sure beat brimstone and fire, and frankly, he kind of liked the chic design.

"But could use a little less gaudy colors," he commented out loud as he continued his exploration of the large ground floor.

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"So you really are here," he murmured quietly, careful to keep the pain out of his voice. Unfortunately he had an act to maintain and publicly agonizing over his twin's introduction to his personal hell wasn't part of that. "I thought perhaps they'd just edited the footage."

He frowned slightly. "Hell? I'm not sure you want anyone to hear you saying that." It was a warning. If he'd learned nothing else, it was that even the walls had ears in this city.

"You look... young."

"Well, yeah," Lindsey answered, glancing around at the strange decor again between looks at his twin. "That's what Panem is, isn't it? Either way, better than the last one I was in, so I'm not complaining. Rather looks nice here, actually."

He was taking everything rather in stride, including the observation that he looked younger than his twin. The suggestion came with a wry grimace and a casual glance over Eliot as if he was noticing Eliot's age for the first time.

"I'm guessing that means I've been dead for a few years. I'm surprised they finally enacted the contract enough to drag me to one of their dimensions..." Then slowly, he blinked. "What are you doing here?"

Edited 2012-09-09 01:20 (UTC)

"Umm, no, from what I understand, this is Earth," Eliot replied slowly, a thoroughly confused frown on his face. "America, actually. Just several hundred years after our time.

"Contract? Dead?! Lindsey, what the hell are you talkin' about?! You ain't dead if you're standin' right in front of me. And you ain't been in the Arena yet."

"Of course, America," he answered in a humoring voice. "Nice touch, I like that." Stepping away from Eliot to lean against one of the couches, arms spread like he owned he, it looked back up at his brother, who he hadn't seen for years, and raised both eyebrows.

"Nah, I think I know when I died, thanks. Doesn't sound like you do though, which is okay, not everyone knows. I'm surprised that we got thrown in together..." He leaned back and grinned. "Guess that just means you've been a bad boy too, huh."

Eliot decided to ignore his brother's condescension. That was rather familiar albeit a little harsher than it used to be.

"Oh, I know when I died." He couldn't quite keep the memories from flowing across his face. "I remember both times. And they were both after I woke up here."

"Not the same," Lindsey insisted, but he didn't bother to elaborate as Eliot didn't seem to understand anyway. "It doesn't matter, you're here anyway."

Straightening again, he gave his brother a thorough look over. "Look at you, all strong like a bull. Thought people just dragged in the wrong guy when they kept calling me Eliot, but guess not." He grinned bright but with a mocking edge. "Turn around and let me take a look at you, will you?"

Eliot aimed a light-hearted swat at his brother's head. "Oh, shut up," he muttered. "I'm your brother, not your nephew, ya headcase."

Lindsey ducked the swat but when he straightened, his grin was even wider than before. The mocking was gone too to be replaced by some genuine mirth.

"Yeah, who I haven't seen for a decade. I think I got some inspection rights."

"Oh, fine, you big sap," Eliot retorted, a teasing glint in his eyes. He spun on his heels, coming back to face his brother with a mock salute. "Your turn. And it's been more like two decades, Linds."

"Two decades?" If Lindsey's previous profession wasn't trained to have a iron solid poker face, his jaw may have dropped. For now, all he did was arch his brows and open up his arms, doing a slow turn for his brother as if he was on the center of a stage.

"And how old are you right now?"

"Thirty-seven," Eliot replied, reaching for his brother's wrist. "What happened? How did you get a scar like that?"

That would be about two decades alright. Lindsey was about to comment when his brother took his wrist, his right one, and commented on his faded scar.

Of all things for Eliot to notice.

"Let's just say my career... changed hands." He gave a chilling grin that was all teeth and very little mirth.

Eliot nearly glared at his twin. "You're a lawyer, Linds. And I've never heard of something like that working. Too many nerves involved. And, please, tell me that wasn't meant to he funny."

"Ripley's Believe It Or Not." He pulled his hand back and looked down at it. "Or Lindsey's, in this case." Wiggling his fingers in a waving motion, his smile continued as he uninformatively added, "I call him Brad."

Eliot swatted at Lindsey's head again. "It's not funny, you crazy ass!"

He sighed quietly, looking his brother over again. "So what have you done with yourself the last twenty years?"

A swat which Lindsey ducked, again. He allowed that to distract him from answering Eliot's question as he figured out what to tell. Some things even his twin shouldn't know.

Like it should be fifteen and not twenty years, or that he'd been doing things no lawyer should be involved in, even the real shady ones.

"Oh, you know. Graduated, got hired at a firm, got killed. it's an exciting world."

"Details, man!" Eliot countered. "That's way too short for what you've been doing for twenty years. And what do you mean, you got killed?"

Lindsey really didn't want to correct his brother, but this insistence of making him older than he was was getting annoying. "Fifteen, actually. Which is why it might be better if I called you my older brother here if anyone asks."

He gave Eliot a deadpanned look and began walking, deciding that if they were going to have this conversation, they might as well have it seated. "How many meanings of being killed do you have?"

Eliot rolled his eyes and followed his brother to one of the couches. "Well, you can't mean what I'd mean when I say I got killed since you're standin' right here, not dead," he retorted. "And, if you wanna play at bein' the pain in the ass little brother, go ahead."

"Sure I can," Lindsey answered back, happy to prove his brother wrong. He was already picking up the little brother act quite well. That was when he opened his shirt and showed Eliot the two bullet scars that covered his chest.

"Funny how these hell dimension works, they can pull you every which way after you're dead."

Eliot raised an eyebrow at the bullet scars on his brother's chest. "Who do I have to kill for that?" he asked simply. He wasn't going to bother arguing with his twin about the whole being dead thing. Once Lindsey got an idea in his head, it was almost impossible to change his mind. He doubted that had changed since they were in highschool.

"Lucky you, you might actually get the chance," Lindsey quipped after letting his shirt drop by close. As he did the buttons up, he grinned at his brother, not at all finding the topic they were talking about to be strange. "After I'm through with him anyway. I'm sure they'll put the chunks back together for you to have your chance."

Eliot stared at Lindsey for a moment. "You're saying they're here? As a Tribute?"

"Smart boy, guessed it in one." He shrugged and leaned back in his seat, glancing to the large tv that showed the happenings of the Arena still.

"Stop being an ass, Linds," Eliot retorted. "I might not be the geek you always were but I've never been stupid. And you know it."

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