Donatello Hamato (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
polyturtle) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2014-01-12 11:49 pm
polyturtle) wrote in thecapitol2014-01-12 11:49 pm
Entry tags:
floating down the current
Who | Don, OPEN to District 9 characters
What | Don is learning all about District 9. Not all of it is good, of course.
Where | Throughout the areas District 9 Tributes are allowed!
When | Throughout the District visit!
Warnings/Notes | n/a
Don was beginning to think there had been a conspiracy to keep him freezing on the train. The clothing provided to him in the District 9 was much warmer, and much better, than what had been given to him both before and during the train trip. While he was still not entirely warm when he went outside, he was certainly not having the same problems he'd had before, and was much more comfortable and mobile as a result.
And what he saw was...not good. If he thought he was freezing, District 9 was worse off. There was literally no heat in most houses that he came in; families were starting to burn furniture to keep warm. And yet they still welcomed him warmly, fed him, and found him very interesting to talk to, to touch. To thank. They were incredibly kind.
But he could see it. The signs. The smell of new paint didn't escape him, nor did the difference in gleam between older and newer windows. The people of this District were rebellious. And the Peacekeepers couldn't do much about it, at least nothing too extreme. One or two families even proudly and openly admitted that they stole firewood from the warehouses, enough to last most of the winter.
It made him realize something. He didn't, in some ways, have it as bad as the District people. Yes, he kept dying, but in truth, he still lived in splendor. The children he 'supposedly' saved from death were still dying - slowly, in the cold, without help or hope of coming back to life.
It made him mad, knowing these things. He was able to control his anger, at least, when he was around the citizens. The same was maintained when he was shown around by the officials, by Mrs. Nova, who reminded Don of an old lady version of Leonardo. But when he was in his rooms, he brooded, staring out the window, staring at the books offered in the house, the needle art, whatever he could to prevent himself from simply unleashing all of the pent up anger he'd had from everything that had happened.
After all, Shepard, Wyatt, Harley...they were right.
Wouldn't want to give up when the hunter had sensed that there was a weakness in his prey.
What | Don is learning all about District 9. Not all of it is good, of course.
Where | Throughout the areas District 9 Tributes are allowed!
When | Throughout the District visit!
Warnings/Notes | n/a
Don was beginning to think there had been a conspiracy to keep him freezing on the train. The clothing provided to him in the District 9 was much warmer, and much better, than what had been given to him both before and during the train trip. While he was still not entirely warm when he went outside, he was certainly not having the same problems he'd had before, and was much more comfortable and mobile as a result.
And what he saw was...not good. If he thought he was freezing, District 9 was worse off. There was literally no heat in most houses that he came in; families were starting to burn furniture to keep warm. And yet they still welcomed him warmly, fed him, and found him very interesting to talk to, to touch. To thank. They were incredibly kind.
But he could see it. The signs. The smell of new paint didn't escape him, nor did the difference in gleam between older and newer windows. The people of this District were rebellious. And the Peacekeepers couldn't do much about it, at least nothing too extreme. One or two families even proudly and openly admitted that they stole firewood from the warehouses, enough to last most of the winter.
It made him realize something. He didn't, in some ways, have it as bad as the District people. Yes, he kept dying, but in truth, he still lived in splendor. The children he 'supposedly' saved from death were still dying - slowly, in the cold, without help or hope of coming back to life.
It made him mad, knowing these things. He was able to control his anger, at least, when he was around the citizens. The same was maintained when he was shown around by the officials, by Mrs. Nova, who reminded Don of an old lady version of Leonardo. But when he was in his rooms, he brooded, staring out the window, staring at the books offered in the house, the needle art, whatever he could to prevent himself from simply unleashing all of the pent up anger he'd had from everything that had happened.
After all, Shepard, Wyatt, Harley...they were right.
Wouldn't want to give up when the hunter had sensed that there was a weakness in his prey.
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"I think maybe we should rethink things, next time we go into the Arena."
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After a thought, Don lowered his voice to a whisper.
"I know that our victories allow for extra supplies to be sent to the winning District. However, even if one of us won...I don't know if it would send the help these people here need until its too late."
He had no doubt about that. People were already dying from the cold. The way that most Arenas were, by the time a Victor was proclaimed, weeks, months would have passed. The rest of the entire season, practically, even if they were summoned back that night and forced to fight the next day.
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The rest, well, they couldn't do anything about that, not yet. Too many variables and unanswered questions they still needed to learn.
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He knew he could win. That wasn't the problem.
In truth, if he'd not saved Ariadne...no subject
Ok, so she could nerd out every now and again.
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He spoke the last sentence slightly slower, more deliberately. In other words, don't mention rebellion, Mindy. Not out loud, at least. Not here.
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"But as for the Arena, I've not been training my ass off for nothing. I'm gonna last at that place, and do what I have to. You've been hearing the competition. I hope you're up to it yourself."
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"There might be a chance for you to get through the Arena."
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"I...its a risk, but I helped two others get out of the Arena. I might...I might be able to get you out."
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"Get out? What do you mean by 'get out?'"
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"Right," was all he could really manage in response.
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"What are you thinking about, Donatello?"
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"...I did want to ask about your training." That sounded benign enough if Peacekeepers came about, so he raised his voice a bit. "The previous two allies I had who were Victors weren't seasoned physical fighters."
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