Lyle Norg (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
atippleoftransparency) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2014-03-02 09:33 pm
atippleoftransparency) wrote in thecapitol2014-03-02 09:33 pm
Entry tags:
These Pants Are Optional
Who| OPEN to Lyle and YOU; closed to Lyle and Brainy
What| Vegan acrophobe wakes from death-by-falling to leather pants. NOPE.
Where| Suite 10, the elevator between Suites 10 and 8, Suite 8; Brainy's room
When| Week 4
Warnings/Notes| Swearing, out-right refusal to wear pants. Anything else TBA. Put where you find him in the subject line.
Lyle woke as he always did in stressful situations: instantly alert and betraying no sign of having done so other than the jack-hammering of his heart in his ears.
This time, it's flavored with distinctly more panic that he's used to.
Ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgod.
He doesn't...feel injured, though. Which he should, because ohgod nope, not going there, not thinking about--
Lyle rolls out of his (really soft) bed and into a defensive crouch, looking around for signs of a threat. Seeing no obvious ones, he makes for the door, scrubbing a hand over his face to make sure it's completely under his control.
Okay. Not dead. Good job step one. Step two: find Brainy. He'd said he was representing District 8. Surely there was going to be a sign somewhere indicating where to find the District 8 rooms.
...what the sprock was he even wearing?
The shirt was fine (sleeveless, high-collared, black, clung to him like a second skin), but the (black, fitted) pants were weird. They almost felt like they were made out of the same material as Brin's jacket, but the texture was slightly different. He'd felt this before, where had he felt this--
--Oh. Oh yeah.
"Ew!"
Lyle had never gotten out of his own pants so fast, and he'd had to strip down due to hazardous chemical spills before. On the other hand, he'd never found himself wearing pants made out of actual skin!
On the upside, there was a clothing dispenser in here. On the downside, the only pants in it were also made out of skin, buttery and smooth and as black as Darkseid's soul. The selection of boots likewise appeared to be made from skin as well.
Fine. Lyle was a grown man, he'd worn less to the beach more than once. His underwear (well, "his" underwear in the sense that they were the underwear he was wearing, because the death match and the skin pants weren't creepy enough) was also black, so at least they kept the theme.
Lyle strode out of his room; face impassive, feet bare, and utterly sans pants. Bring it, Panem, Lyle Norg was on a mission.
Hey, elevators. That looked positive.
What| Vegan acrophobe wakes from death-by-falling to leather pants. NOPE.
Where| Suite 10, the elevator between Suites 10 and 8, Suite 8; Brainy's room
When| Week 4
Warnings/Notes| Swearing, out-right refusal to wear pants. Anything else TBA. Put where you find him in the subject line.
Lyle woke as he always did in stressful situations: instantly alert and betraying no sign of having done so other than the jack-hammering of his heart in his ears.
This time, it's flavored with distinctly more panic that he's used to.
Ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgod.
He doesn't...feel injured, though. Which he should, because ohgod nope, not going there, not thinking about--
Lyle rolls out of his (really soft) bed and into a defensive crouch, looking around for signs of a threat. Seeing no obvious ones, he makes for the door, scrubbing a hand over his face to make sure it's completely under his control.
Okay. Not dead. Good job step one. Step two: find Brainy. He'd said he was representing District 8. Surely there was going to be a sign somewhere indicating where to find the District 8 rooms.
...what the sprock was he even wearing?
The shirt was fine (sleeveless, high-collared, black, clung to him like a second skin), but the (black, fitted) pants were weird. They almost felt like they were made out of the same material as Brin's jacket, but the texture was slightly different. He'd felt this before, where had he felt this--
--Oh. Oh yeah.
"Ew!"
Lyle had never gotten out of his own pants so fast, and he'd had to strip down due to hazardous chemical spills before. On the other hand, he'd never found himself wearing pants made out of actual skin!
On the upside, there was a clothing dispenser in here. On the downside, the only pants in it were also made out of skin, buttery and smooth and as black as Darkseid's soul. The selection of boots likewise appeared to be made from skin as well.
Fine. Lyle was a grown man, he'd worn less to the beach more than once. His underwear (well, "his" underwear in the sense that they were the underwear he was wearing, because the death match and the skin pants weren't creepy enough) was also black, so at least they kept the theme.
Lyle strode out of his room; face impassive, feet bare, and utterly sans pants. Bring it, Panem, Lyle Norg was on a mission.
Hey, elevators. That looked positive.
no subject
"Anything you can fill me in on?" he asked, pitching his voice more softly but not whispering. Whispering caught attention. "Ah, homie to homie?"
He could tell the kid was scared; you got to that sort of thing when you were running around in tights fighting things that could swallow a squad of Science Police whole. Still, the more quickly he gets informed, the more quickly he and Brainy can start dismantling this awful place without doing something egregiously stupid.
no subject
He jerks a thumb at one of the Avoxes busy sweeping the kitchen. "Be nice to them. They's the victims. All I'm sayin'."
no subject
"You know," he said, his tone more casual to indicate a change of subject (for now), "we've been talking all this time and I don't think we've traded names. Lyle Norg."
no subject
And incredibly tactful.
no subject
He kind of liked Punchy, it was going to be a shame to shut this down. On the other hand, not putting people in danger from the Capitol with his friendship was why he was pretending to be a villain anyway.
"Oh, well, if we're going that route -- Chemical King. Because I'm a bad thing that happens to bad people."
no subject
Punchy looks outright confused. Dammit, he's not supposed to get along with villains. This guy can't actually be a villain, right? Must be some tryhard teenager.
"Rewind that for me?"
no subject
"Sorry, hero," Lyle said glibly. "If it helps, it's my old government's fault." He smiled, a little sadly. "If they hadn't popped me into assassin school when I was twelve and then tried to have me killed a few years later, I might have turned out better."
no subject
So instead, he postures. He gets all up in Lyle's face and scowls and points a finger right at Lyle's nose.
"I see you be doing any villain shit on my beat, I'll be icing you, homes." And then his expression softens just a bit. "Sucks about the assassin school, though."
no subject
"Hey, you see me, have at," he said. "If I'm seen, I'm doing something wrong. But thanks for the sympathy. And don't worry too much about me being a corrupting influence on you. Me and my team, we're not kicking-puppies bad. We've got a code."
no subject
"I be holding you to that code!" he says as he gets back in the elevator.
no subject
"I'll make sure you don't see anything contrary to it!" he called back.
Poor guy. Lyle'd have to look into his history, find out more about him. See if he could be trusted with the knowledge that Lyle and Brainy weren't the villains they were trying to portray themselves as.
And speaking of Brainy, Lyle had a Coluan to find here...