jean kirschtein (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
relatability) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2014-02-15 07:45 pm
relatability) wrote in thecapitol2014-02-15 07:45 pm
Entry tags:
closed;
Who| Jean and Barbara/Jean and Armin
What| After his first Arena death, Jean has a few things he wants to discuss with his mentor and a friend to run into.
Where| District 9 housing/Tribute training center.
When| February 15th
Warnings/Notes| n/a for now; to be updated
[with Barbara]
[He pauses for a second before he raises his hand to knock on her door, eyebrows furrowed more closely than usual as he frowns deeply. His clothes are clean. His body is uninjured. He's alive, and he'd known this would happen but there's still a small bit of disbelief in him at the thought that he was definitely killed in that arena, but he was definitely still alive, right now, in front of his district's mentor's door. The injury that should be on his head from when he died is gone as if it were never there. It didn't make sense.
It disturbed him that the "end" he always knew was final was no longer that in this world.
He knocks.] Hey. You in there?
[with Armin]
[He didn't enjoy dying, he decided. He didn't care enough for the game to suddenly slaughter everyone he could get his hands on in those arenas, but he certainly didn't care about going through that too much, either. He also didn't like sitting still after years of following the military's schedule -- getting up, eating breakfast, training, completing duties, training, eating... he needed the training. It gave him something to do. He heads to the training center that afternoon, wondering what sort of equipment will be there and how different it would be from the one back home.
He's stretching, getting ready to make use of the room's equipment, when he catches sight of a familiar head of blond hair and looks up--]
Armin!
What| After his first Arena death, Jean has a few things he wants to discuss with his mentor and a friend to run into.
Where| District 9 housing/Tribute training center.
When| February 15th
Warnings/Notes| n/a for now; to be updated
[with Barbara]
[He pauses for a second before he raises his hand to knock on her door, eyebrows furrowed more closely than usual as he frowns deeply. His clothes are clean. His body is uninjured. He's alive, and he'd known this would happen but there's still a small bit of disbelief in him at the thought that he was definitely killed in that arena, but he was definitely still alive, right now, in front of his district's mentor's door. The injury that should be on his head from when he died is gone as if it were never there. It didn't make sense.
It disturbed him that the "end" he always knew was final was no longer that in this world.
He knocks.] Hey. You in there?
[with Armin]
[He didn't enjoy dying, he decided. He didn't care enough for the game to suddenly slaughter everyone he could get his hands on in those arenas, but he certainly didn't care about going through that too much, either. He also didn't like sitting still after years of following the military's schedule -- getting up, eating breakfast, training, completing duties, training, eating... he needed the training. It gave him something to do. He heads to the training center that afternoon, wondering what sort of equipment will be there and how different it would be from the one back home.
He's stretching, getting ready to make use of the room's equipment, when he catches sight of a familiar head of blond hair and looks up--]
Armin!
no subject
So much of that feels like a heavy-handed joke. She smiles, calling out her answer. )
Jean! Come on in!
( She pats the side of her made bed, casually dressed. Her tablet lay on the night table, muted from when she'd been tracking progress in the course of the Arena. )
You caught me at a good time. I just got back from training downstairs.
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I didn't know mentors trained too. You watched the game?
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She shrugs her shoulders, straightening where she sits. )
Most of us train from before the 74th Games. You can fall in with my schedule, if you like. Eva's down there too more often than you might guess.
Anyway, I'm supposed to watch. ( There's an allowance of silence, accompanied by a small shake of her head. She doesn't enjoy it, or the science, or the part of her mind calculating for the duration. It drives her to distraction. She's itching to get away from it, and the anger and frustration it stirs to the surface. )
You wanna talk about it?
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... I don't have anything to say about definitely getting my head smashed in and still coming back. That aside, if there are going to be more games, sitting around without a plan when I've got no interest in killing is going to get tiring. I don't want to give up and deal with this forever.
no subject
( She points it out as an option. It's something technically worth considering. )
It's possible to do minimal damage in the Arena, but less likely that you'll get through untouched by the Gamemakers, even when the other Tributes leave you alone. What kind of man are you? Or boy, ( she adds, no judgment in her tone - she doesn't think with what he's said of his world that he'd consider himself that brand of young, but one never knows ) whichever you feel you are. Survival isn't the key, not the way it was for people like me. What kinds of compromises are you willing to make?
( Compromise sounds like such a big word coming from Barbara. She also seems serious when looking at her eyes - her lips are in that characteristic smile. )
no subject
... I have a couple of guys here I know. One of them will probably die because he sucks at fighting, and the other one's so stupid he'll probably fall into a trap. I'm sure they have or they're gonna have to kill someone eventually and so am I.
I don't care about killing everyone just to keep winning, but it's gonna happen eventually.
no subject
[...] it's gonna happen eventually. )
Eventually.
( She agrees. )
How it does, and what you do, matters. You live with whatever you bring back from in there.
( Her smile evens out into something serious, an expression she doesn't mind monitored. Not for this. )
There's no way to really prepare yourself. No way to forget what it feels like, either, or wonder if a part of you didn't even like what happened. Some people do.
( She can point them out, but she doesn't, not at the moment. )
You're so sure you don't care?
no subject
If I slit someone's throat to get myself a better chance of survival I'll apologize and not gloat but I'm not going to cry and beg to be sent home.
no subject
In that case, I can show you the quickest way to do exactly that.
no subject
Can you do that now or you need me to wait a bit?
no subject
He needed to find something or someone familiar. Inside his room, staring at that glass 3DMG wasn't doing him any favors. So he headed to the Training Center, after checking in on Eren in the Arena. He just hoped he stayed away from those masks.
He looked over and finally found Jean.]
Jean! [Maybe it was just relief at a familiar, friendly face. It was the first time they'd actually seen each other since Jean had arrived, after all. But he actually hugged Jean when he saw him. He looked happier than he sounded last they spoke.[
no subject
[This is a first, between them. A first for Jean at all, to receive this sort of greeting. They never had the time for something of this sort back home, and Armin always had Eren or Mikasa to go to. It's strange. But he doesn't push him away (why would he?) and instead pats his back, not sure if that's the right gesture or not.]
Whoa whoa, calm down there Armin.
no subject
[He goes to one of the consoles and starts working it like he's had this stuff around him all his life.] I've spent a lot of time in here, learning how these things work. Even if they won't really do me any good, I thought it was still worth figuring out. So I can help if you need it.
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You okay?
no subject
no subject