I don't like walking around this old and empty house.

[the_marshal]

WHO| Wyatt and Semi-OTA (Open physically to anyone with him in District 10, with some preset threads for Howard and Max in the comments.)
WHAT| Bb gets with the times.
WHERE| District 10
WHEN| A day or two after arriving in the Districts.
Warnings/Notes| Some mild swearing perhaps? Edit: Two clueless gents flirting over the skype equivalent below. You are warned. Edit edit: It went a bit beyond flirting. Gird yourself.



Wyatt had made a promise to Howard, and he was determined to keep it. After settling in as best as he could in their temporary housing, he dug out his communicator and set about trying to get the thing to work.

At one of the heavy, thick-cut tables in the dining room, he moved his fingers over the keys just as he remembered watching Howard do -- and somehow set off a bell, a shrill alarm that cut through the quiet of the late morning like a knife through warm butter. Quickly, he clapped his hands over it and stabbed another button, managing to silence it out of sheer luck.

Glancing around, he nodded in apology to those at the nearest tables - trying to ignore the heat threatening to curl around the back of his neck - and tried again.

That time he nearly blinded himself.

Wiping the bright flash from his eyes, cursing lowly to himself, he dropped the device on the table and leaned back in his chair in defeat.

Time to consider a re-approach.

Comments

District 10 OTA

[the_marshal]

Re: District 10 OTA

[callmecharles]

Orc...or has he was trying to think of himself now "Charles" Had settled into the home and was sinking into a leather sofa by the window watching everyone mill about. There were some friendly questions about his "Condition" Which he politely avoided answering.

Most couldn't even recognize him in the form he was in now.

[the_marshal]

Wyatt didn't. He'd never been particularly close with Orc to begin with, knowing him mostly through their connection with Howard, and honestly hadn't even noticed that the boy made of rocks hadn't been about.

(Even if he'd put his mind to it he'd have simply shrugged and assumed he was off enjoying whatever libations the District had to offer.)

So when he looked up and spotted the unfamiliar face across the way, he merely tipped his head politely in greeting and went back to the project at hand.

[callmecharles]

Orc caught the hat tipping and nodded back watching Waytt fiddle with his communicator. Orc never really did anything with his but he at least had a basic understanding of it's functions. In fact he drew it out of his pocket now to look at the messages.

Half a dozen from Howard. He really should let Howard know he wasn't dead. But every time he tried to put the words on the screen something was stopping him. He couldn't quite bring himself to say what happened.

Just thinking about it made him sick and he wanted to throw up. The sensation alone was enough to stop him and distract him long enough that he didn't get around to it.

It didn't help that Howard was strange. A changed man from who he was back in the FAYZ. In a way that was better. It meant he was getting more done on his own.

But he was still Howard, and he relied on Wyatt whenever he couldn't rely on Orc.

That inspired Orc, and he got up trundling over slowly offering Wyatt a gruff "Hey..." In greeting, hesitant because it still felt like talking to a grown up when he knew full well that just a week ago people wouldn't have been able to tell he was a teenage kid.

[the_marshal]

Wyatt peeled his gaze up from the communicator, eyebrows lifting in not a little bit of surprise. (He glanced to the sides quickly, as if expecting this strange young man to be addressing someone who had moved up beside him without his knowing.)

"Mornin'," he drawled slowly. Maybe he'd come to complain about the noise Wyatt had made with the box. Preemptively, he apologized. (The people had proven themselves decent enough thus far, the last thing he wanted was to pick a fight.) "My apologies, if I bothered ya, I'm still wrappin' my head 'round this damned thing." He gestured to the communicator, waving it gently.

[callmecharles]

Orc blinked, his beady little eyes displaying confusion and he shook his head "No, no it's not that." Had he been making noise? Orc must have been thinking about something and missed it.

"I um...I just wanted to thank you for taking care of Howard." His voice was no longer as gruff and gravely as it had been, but it was still deep for a boy his age. It was also drenched in humility.

"I tried to, and Aunamee got him anyway..."

[pillowmania]

Of course Katurian stayed in the temporary housing. There was no one to welcome him home to his old District.

He spied Wyatt from across the room. The cowboy. This had been the nickname he assigned to the man who now sat at the wooden dining tables. Not the marshal, not the police officer, not the hero. (Although he did think of him like a hero, a boyish figure from the books had Katurian read when he was just a boy -- and still believed in heroes.) It seemed right that the cowboy was here in District 10, surrounded by the grumbles of distant animals. Did they know that, when they assigned him? Could they have guessed?

He watched him for a long while before approaching, his feet shuffling in the dirt. Without a word, he sat down across from him. It seemed so much easier than asking permission.

"Do you need help, Mr. Earp?"

[the_marshal]

It was something Wyatt had wondered over in his early days. Had the Capitol known somehow? Was there some memory of him that lingered on? So many tributes seemed to know of him, of the things he had done, perhaps his name was still spoken....

But it was a mystery he'd long let slip away. If they had, they'd never acknowledged it and he supposed he should just be grateful that if they'd had to put him anywhere they'd chosen Ten - whatever the reason.

If they hadn't, he wouldn't be here now. Wouldn't have had this chance to see what had become of his home for himself.

He looked up, brow furrowed, when the chair across him pulled out - Katurian's face taking him a moment to place. (He still remembered the tribute. That man with the face like Elias'.)

"Is it that obvious?" he snorted.

[pillowmania]

"It's pretty obvious," he said, cracking a lopsided grin. Banter. Now that's something he didn't get every day.

He offered his hand across the table, palm exposed.

"Back in Ten, we use little machines like this to, you know, coordinate feeding times, record work hours, things like that. With that alarm of yours, you might've just told someone that you're calling in sick."

But Wyatt, didn't, of course -- this was more joking, more banter. His hands trembled slightly, as though the positive interaction were a strain on his system. And it was.

[the_marshal]

Wyatt frowned, and passed the little box over into Katurian's palm, arms folding over his chest once both his hands were free. The wooden chair creaked as he shifted, obviously uncomfortable with his lack of understanding.

"I was jus' tryin' to get a hold of somebody. Another tribute, in a different district."

For Howard

[the_marshal]

After getting some help, Wyatt finally managed to get the damned box to do what he wished.

It took a few minutes for him to get the camera squared up on the whole of his face, but when he was satisfied that Howard would be able to see him, his smiled wryly.

"Think I finally got it right this time. Hopefully ya can see this--" he glanced at something off screen, then over his shoulder toward the window behind him, then back at the camera once more. "I'm here in Ten. Safe an' sound."

His brow furrowed gently. "I hope yer not worryin' yerself too much, Howard. Everythin's gonna be alright."

Re: For Howard

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

Howard shows up on the screen, looking tired but glad to see Wyatt. He hasn't slept much.

"This is public, so everyone can see it." The less they talk about how nervous Howard was, the better. "No private functions on these things."

He grins, though. "How's District Ten?"

[the_marshal]

One of Wyatt's eyebrows shot up, mouth pulling unhappily - though he supposed he really shouldn't be surprised. The Capitol didn't seem to know what a private conversation was in any sense of it.

"It's cold here," he admitted. "Storm's brewin' up an' the escorts are all in a fuss 'bout it gettin' in the way of their big party."

His frown eased by fractions. "But it ain't so bad. It reminds me'a home... more than I thought it would."

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

"It's cold here, too, but not that bad." Howard looks a little worried that Wyatt seems to like District Ten, even though he knows deep down that Wyatt won't just stay there. Fear is hard to shake, irrational fear more so. "Ellie's the only cool person in my District. The new Stylist is driving me crazy, and we've got like, a weird lobster crab guy?"

He shrugs, settling into his bed a bit more. "The District people here are assholes. One of them shoved me into a puddle."

[the_marshal]

Wyatt's frown only deepened. He'd heard about District One, of course - all that talk of it being a smaller version of the Capitol, just as supportive of The Games, but to hear it straight from someone like Howard was something else.

It might him wish ever more fiercely that he and Max could have come with him.

"At least ya got her," he said - and he meant it. Ellie was a fine young woman, all her swearing and all. "An' it won't be too much longer. We're only 'sposed to be out here a week."

For Max

[the_marshal]

Wyatt paused a long moment after getting through to Howard, staring down at the little device for several heartbeats. He missed Max. The man's absence was glaring hole after how close he'd been, how closed he'd stayed since they'd found their way back to each other.

But that had been Max's choice, and Wyatt didn't want to take his space from him. Didn't want to push.

...When he finally gave in, it was a few hours later, and he was outside, hoping for some privacy in the chilly afternoon air. Behind him, a storm brewed on the dark horizon as his eyes moved hopefully over the communicator's screen.

[gluteus]

He kept the communicator on him, but he rarely touched it, and hearing it beep at him was unnerving, to say the least. After a moment he fetched it out of his jacket, frowned down at it and somehow managed to turn it on.

"Hello?" he asked the box gruffly.

[the_marshal]

"...Max?"

There was moment's uncertainty before Max came into view, then Wyatt grinned, wide and relieved when that familiar face appeared.

"Afternoon, stranger. District Ten sends its regards."

[gluteus]

Max was in the relative comfort and privacy of his room in district 3, and he visibly relaxed when he saw Wyatt. He sat down on the edge of the bed and shrugged his jacket from his shoulder while he tried to keep the communicator pointed to his face.

"You've arrived safely then. I am relieved to hear it." He switched hands as he shrugged the jacket off the opposite shoulder.

[the_marshal]

"Well, enough," he replied, thinking briefly of his encounter with Sigma - brushing the memory away as quickly as it surfaced.

His breath misted as he spoke, a gentle stream of fog from his mouth and nose, steaming against the camera and screen. He swiped at it with his thumb, striking his face with wet.

"How's things in Three? ...Machines, ain't it?"

Like the communicator he held in hand, if he remembered correctly.

[nofunandgames]

"Need some help there, friend?"

Elias looked different. Not that he'd ever look young and spry, but he was too thin, stretched to tight, with dark bruises under his good eye.

But still, there was a wide smile on his face. He may have specific reasons he sought out Wyatt, serious ones, but the relief, the warmth of seeing a friend was lighting up even his tired face.

"Technology can get the best of you."

[the_marshal]

Despite knowing that District Ten had once been his home, despite knowing that the Capitol had said he'd gone back to it, the very last person Wyatt expected to see during the trip was his old mentor. After looking up, for a long moment, all he could do was stare, lips parting in surprise.

Then his chair was screeching across the high-polished wood and he was rounding the table to pull Elias into a fast, fond hug.

"Ya miserable bastard." He clapped Elias on the back and then pulled back to look at him again, sharp blue eyes taking in the dark circles, the peaked complexion. "I thought you were dead."

[nofunandgames]

It was a relief to see someone he considered a friend.

Having severed so many ties in his District, when the fire had happened, he found him self cut loose, with no attachments. It was easy to get lost, to fade away.

Which was exactly what they wanted. And exactly what he couldn't let happen.

So when he felt Wyatt's solid strength, he felt something relax in him. Even if this didn't work, it would be something wroth doing.

"You weren't too far from wrong." He said with a wide, if tired, grin.

[the_marshal]

Stepping back to look at him, to really look at him. On the scale, Elias didn't appear quite as bad as some he'd seen, but he still looked enough like death warmed over to furrow his brow in concern.

He patted the back of the chair beside them, offering the man a seat, and leaned a hip against the table.

"What happened?" he asked. "Why'd ya go?"

[nofunandgames]

He pushed back his hair, shrugging, before glancing around. This place was loud, hard to hear. It was why he'd chosen it as the first place to reach out to Wyatt.

So they could talk.

"They sent me back. Didn't expect to make it in one piece. But I did. And thing were alright...and then there was an accident." He laughed. "It's always an accident. The family homestead went up in flames."