thecapitol | i've seen more places than i can name; OPEN;

Entry tags:

i've seen more places than i can name; OPEN;

Who| Joel and Open!
What| Joel is figuring things out, his first week in the Capitol. Possibly checking in on some people, and bumping into new ones!
Where| Various locations - see the open starters for details.
When| The last week or so of the arena, leading up to the crowning.
Warnings/Notes| Maybe some cussing. The thread with Hawkeye will undoubtedly include descriptions of gore, child death, body horror and general brutality. Also drinking copious amounts of alcohol.

[1. D8 kitchen]

Once upon a time, a long, long time ago, before the world went to hell, Joel had been a pretty normal guy. A hard-working, single dad, even. One who did normal things, like errand running, doctor appointments, soccer games.

He'd even, sometimes, cooked an actual meal. He was never a gourmet chef, of course, but out of necessity - being a single parent - and also partly because he just liked himself a good chili sometimes, he'd picked up a few things here and there. Now, after twenty years of scrounging and scavenging and - if he was lucky - cooking over a campfire, he found himself presented with a large, gleaming, state-of-the-art, fully-stocked kitchen. And plenty of leisure time to mess around with it.

Right now, he was mostly just digging around in drawers and cupboards, seeing what-all they had, matching it up with his memories when he could, and sometimes just pulling something out and staring at it in confusion. What the hell is that even used for?

[2. D8 suite]

Sleeping was never one of Joel's strong suits. Sleeping for eight hours at a time, on a big, soft bed? It just wasn't going to happen. He was too, too used to sleeping on the hard cold ground, in short, bite-sized chunks, plagued with nightmares to even contemplate sleeping through a whole night. Tonight, it was worse even than usual, only his second or third in the Capitol since dying in the arena, anyway, and Joel got up out of the nest of blankets he'd made on the floor to stretch his legs.

On entering the common room, he spotted the eerily familiar blue glow of a television screen - eerie, because it had been so long since such a thing had existed in his world, and familiar because it had been so ubiquitous in his life before the outbreak. On the screen, even this late at night, is coverage of the arena. It takes him a moment to work out what it is - a highlight reel, recapping some of the more dramatic moments of the past several weeks.

When his own face appeared on the screen, he froze, tensing up, unable to look away as Ellie's death was replayed in front of him like a movie. His fists clenched tightly and his face became hard as stone.

[3. A coffee shop]

Joel mostly found the Capitol distasteful. Too many people, on the whole, and all of them dressed ridiculously. And they stared at him, like he was some kind of circus freak. Like he was the weird one. But getting the lay of the land was old habit for him, and he knew at some point he was going to have to leave the main Tribute center again - it was better to know the major landmarks, at least, no matter how nervous the crowds of people made him.

Anyone watching him would just see an older man, shoulders tense and slightly hunched - at least, until he caught a whiff of something he never thought he would smell again. Coffee.

Goddamn, but that was coffee. Words could not describe how much he had missed coffee over the years - one of the few vices he'd had, before the outbreak. And now here it was, a goddamn coffee shop, right on the corner of a bustling intersection, like some kind of miracle, like an oasis in the desert. Joel ducked inside, overwhelmed with the smell. He was going to get him some fucking coffee.

[4. Tribute training center]

Joel never in his life did anything like training. Maybe that was why this place fascinated him - this clean, sterile place for people to just, what? Throw knives at targets for a while? Do workout routines? Oh sure, he remembered gyms, fitness centers, places where people used to go to exercise back when running and hiding and killing wasn't something most people had to do on an everyday basis.

But standing around, practicing different ways of killing people? To be able to do it better the next time? It kind of blew his mind. He ran a rough hand over some of the equipment, like he was trying to figure it out. Figure out how it might be helpful to anyone.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He had an avox send the invitation. Not because he was afraid or anything, but he didn't really know where most people slept yet except for Ellie, and honestly, anything to get the creepy-ass avox to stop following him around, if only for a few minutes.

The bar was one he'd found while exploring some of the back streets and side alleys of the Capitol. It was small, out of the way, clearly a local joint and not a scrubbed-up tourist trap. A hole-in-the-wall, basically, which was much to Joel's preference. He was slightly less the constant center of attention here, a little more comfortable than a bigger, shinier place in one of the busier parts of town.

In short, it was more like a bar he would've patronized back in Austin, before the outbreak.

He didn't know if Hawkeye would show up. He wasn't sure if he wanted him to, honestly. He was already nursing a drink - mostly for something to do with his hands, and because he felt obligated to buy something when he was taking up space at a table. He didn't actually drink much these days, but if Hawkeye showed up, that might change. If he ended up saying what he thought he needed to say to the man.

Was he supposed to tip them? It seemed rude. The Avoxes, he meant, and all Hawkeye could ever muster was a warm smile for them, close-lipped and still loose enough to be friendly. He had his fatigues, sure, all olive and rumpled in a corner. Truth be told, Hawkeye preferred the ridiculous, outlandish garb any Stylist would fit him in. It made him feel a bit like a clown, and it was fitting since now he was somehow always performing. His favorite piece was a blue sequin-filled jacket. It was a muted sort of blue, and it fit almost like a tux. And Hawkeye wondered when in the hell he'd ever wear real clothes again.

He took off to the designated little place without first fussing endlessly over the part in his hair.

What he did have trouble with was finding the small hole in the wall, though he learned that when he walked with an air of importance, with measured steps and with his lips set in a tilt of a frown, with his eyes asking for distance, he didn't draw much of a passing glance from any citizen at all. Like he commanded respect, almost. Almost. He'd almost believe it but it was obvious that just nobody seemed to give a shit about him today and that was fine. He ducked through the doors of the bar finally, refused to look around after he spotted Tex at his table. Hawkeye walked over and sat down, curbed his envy at the alcohol he didn't have and at a dozen other things, and waited.

It took Joel a moment to realize it was him - and when he did, he couldn't keep the look of vague distaste off his face. It was like Hawkeye was trying to blend in with the locals, and it looked absurd. Joel himself was in jeans, or the closest thing he could find - basically the closes to his usual attire he could manage.

His stylist hadn't been pleased.

But it only took a moment for him to school his expression to something more neutral, and he immediately waved someone over to take the other man's drink order.

"I'm buyin'," was the first thing out of his mouth. Simple as that. Not even a 'how are you today'. Joel wasn't particularly good at the pleasantries. "I wasn't sure you'd show up," he added after a moment, almost curious.

But Hawkeye took notice all the same, and not even that made him break his silence. It was nearly a wonder. Maybe he was in shock, he figured, or maybe he only didn't want to fool around and was perfectly healthy otherwise. A shift in personality meant nothing if it was willed, and Hawkeye nearly quirked a brow too when Joel said he was taking the lead this date.

Well, gee, maybe he should have dolled himself up a little more and there's a fleeting look of distance and hesitance that nearly echoed Joel's. Free was free, and he wouldn't say no to the booze and the things he'd do for the lighter fluid of the Swamp. It was nearly startling, the sudden yearning he had for it, and Hawkeye greets the person to take his order with a little grin and says, "Martini. Dry. As dry as you can make it. As dry as a previously soaked sponge left out to dry on asphalt in the Sahara for a month." Hawkeye didn't think it was odd that he just wanted to go home, or as near to it as he could think would be possible.

He's still grinning when he turns back to Joel, and it's not an ironic grin or anything, it's just there and it does die after a second. "I almost didn't," Hawkeye confessed, and with his tone there might not be room to question him. It's sincere. It's curt. It's as much as he'd expect from running up a stranger's bar tab. "I had better offers tonight, the most tempting of which came from my very own cell where I can change what the projection shows on the wall so it looks like this very tranquil, real forest. And the best part is, I'm not even terrified something's going to jump out and sling a noose on me. But then I thought, gee, you must have gone through a lot of trouble writing a note and having it delivered First Class. The least I could do is let you fawn over my jacket."

CLOSED; for Hawkeye;

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2;

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3; I am really sorry for how long this turned

never apologize!!!

<3

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NONE OF THE ABOVE because yes;

HDU

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