Rat (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
saveswithsong) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2014-02-16 02:50 am
saveswithsong) wrote in thecapitol2014-02-16 02:50 am
Forward-dated to late Week 5 - Open!
Who: Rat, Shion, and You!
Where: Tribute Tower, main common area, and his room.
When: Post Arena death, so late Week 5
What: Boyfriends reunited, and he has some reading to catch up on.
Warnings: Very light hints at suicide.
Closed to Shion:
He wasn't sure just why the way he was tired felt so... familiar. Like the dull ache from running, running, running. He expected to be tired afterward. But this felt strange. This was probably something else Shion hadn't told him. It was probably some foolish notion of protecting him.
Now that he wasn't on edge, he was able to more properly consider how everything had occurred. Starting with Shion joining him at the Cornucopia. As stupid an idea that was for him to do, he honestly wasn't surprised.
And then when that girl killed him. So quick, so easily, and he could do nothing. Because he'd gotten sloppy so early on. That had changed the game for him. He played it his way, and he did it well. But not good enough. All because of that damn leg wound. Because he'd gotten greedy. Why did he even go for that, anyway? He'd gotten caught up, he'd left his head behind on the platform.
Speaking of his head, whatever he had left of it disappeared with Shion. Even outside of West Block, No. 6, and the correctional facility this kid clouded his better judgement. Every instinct he knew, that had gotten him this far, knew that attachments like this is what got you killed. This was why he'd left. This is why he should stay away from Shion even now. Especially in the Arena. But Shion barely stood a chance with him, he stood less of a chance without him. All he had to do was get Shion to win, and he wouldn't have to do this anymore. Sure, he knew what that meant. It would possibly mean doing the one thing that is against every principle he'd ever had in his life. But, it would be on his own terms. That was tantamount.
Shion had seen a few Arenas before Rat had arrived here. Somehow, he'd retained some pieces of himself. He hadn't changed. That one request before they descended into hell together had, so far, held true. This would, if he had anything to say about it, remain to be seen.
A glance through some of the information accessible from the console in his room showed some small amount of chatter about his strategy, and why exactly he had started that after Shion's death. Well, at least he'd caught their attention. That had been the goal, right? Even his death had been a spectacle, despite the fact he hadn't directed it.
When he opened the door, he wasn't really at all surprised to see Shion. He slid a foot behind himself to make sure Shion didn't knock him over during the inevitable running-start-hug that was coming.
Open
Rat had been trying to settle back in, but his nerves were still shot. He needed a book, a quiet room, and several uninterrupted hours to settle back into his normal state. He was jumpy, on edge, and in a general foul mood. He was ignoring the screens displaying the ongoing Games, and instead nosed through whatever reading material there was to be found. Volumes glowing about the history of the Capitol, some biographies on select Victors (that he were sure were embellished from reality if the way current events are addressed is any indication), martial arts techniques too ludicrous to be taken at all seriously, ad nauseum.
Anything considered too trashy to be permitted to exist was dealt with appropriately into the round file. Other books that he'd merely disregarded were left strewn hither and yon wherever he may please, sometimes closed, other times left on the last page he'd glanced through. Only one or two made it onto a nearby table, and they were perhaps worth reading. Somehow, Rat had made the modicum of reading material into a mess many times its previous size. He didn't have any intention of cleaning up after himself.
Where: Tribute Tower, main common area, and his room.
When: Post Arena death, so late Week 5
What: Boyfriends reunited, and he has some reading to catch up on.
Warnings: Very light hints at suicide.
Closed to Shion:
He wasn't sure just why the way he was tired felt so... familiar. Like the dull ache from running, running, running. He expected to be tired afterward. But this felt strange. This was probably something else Shion hadn't told him. It was probably some foolish notion of protecting him.
Now that he wasn't on edge, he was able to more properly consider how everything had occurred. Starting with Shion joining him at the Cornucopia. As stupid an idea that was for him to do, he honestly wasn't surprised.
And then when that girl killed him. So quick, so easily, and he could do nothing. Because he'd gotten sloppy so early on. That had changed the game for him. He played it his way, and he did it well. But not good enough. All because of that damn leg wound. Because he'd gotten greedy. Why did he even go for that, anyway? He'd gotten caught up, he'd left his head behind on the platform.
Speaking of his head, whatever he had left of it disappeared with Shion. Even outside of West Block, No. 6, and the correctional facility this kid clouded his better judgement. Every instinct he knew, that had gotten him this far, knew that attachments like this is what got you killed. This was why he'd left. This is why he should stay away from Shion even now. Especially in the Arena. But Shion barely stood a chance with him, he stood less of a chance without him. All he had to do was get Shion to win, and he wouldn't have to do this anymore. Sure, he knew what that meant. It would possibly mean doing the one thing that is against every principle he'd ever had in his life. But, it would be on his own terms. That was tantamount.
Shion had seen a few Arenas before Rat had arrived here. Somehow, he'd retained some pieces of himself. He hadn't changed. That one request before they descended into hell together had, so far, held true. This would, if he had anything to say about it, remain to be seen.
A glance through some of the information accessible from the console in his room showed some small amount of chatter about his strategy, and why exactly he had started that after Shion's death. Well, at least he'd caught their attention. That had been the goal, right? Even his death had been a spectacle, despite the fact he hadn't directed it.
When he opened the door, he wasn't really at all surprised to see Shion. He slid a foot behind himself to make sure Shion didn't knock him over during the inevitable running-start-hug that was coming.
Open
Rat had been trying to settle back in, but his nerves were still shot. He needed a book, a quiet room, and several uninterrupted hours to settle back into his normal state. He was jumpy, on edge, and in a general foul mood. He was ignoring the screens displaying the ongoing Games, and instead nosed through whatever reading material there was to be found. Volumes glowing about the history of the Capitol, some biographies on select Victors (that he were sure were embellished from reality if the way current events are addressed is any indication), martial arts techniques too ludicrous to be taken at all seriously, ad nauseum.
Anything considered too trashy to be permitted to exist was dealt with appropriately into the round file. Other books that he'd merely disregarded were left strewn hither and yon wherever he may please, sometimes closed, other times left on the last page he'd glanced through. Only one or two made it onto a nearby table, and they were perhaps worth reading. Somehow, Rat had made the modicum of reading material into a mess many times its previous size. He didn't have any intention of cleaning up after himself.