(no subject)

[gruesome]

Who| Some, utterly open.
What| A resolution that he have no strangers in an arena again.
Where| All over the place. Specify in your tag where you're running into him.
When| Week 7. Any thread on the roof or outdoors takes place after dark, otherwise anytime.
Warnings/Notes| None yet.


After Some woke up in his room, a few days ago, he gave himself time. A little peace, a little space. He stayed in his room, he favored his restored leg. He tried to get reaccustomed to the paste they pretended was food for him. He stole a pair of tribbles from the room down the hall, and rebuilt the nest that the avoxes had tidied away in his absence.


On the third day, though, he armored himself in shawl and hat, deliberately asking Two's stylist to help him choose clothes to be a little silly, a little disarming. He wanted to be approachable. And then he headed out. He rode the glass elevators, looking out, down one and up the other and down again. He visited the rooftop garden, and and picked twigs there off the potted trees. He went to the dining hall, to eat, or play along in that pretense again at any rate. He left the tower, going out into the streets and looking for a cafe he thought he remembered from before. And everywhere he went, he sought company.

Comments

[hanssome]

With similar intentions, Hans has graced the Dining Hall with his presence. Normally he opts to eat out or in the confines of the district allocated kitchens, but with an increasing number of tributes filing back from the Arena it seems as good a time as any to meet some more people. Or eat. Whatever comes first.

As it happens, eating comes first. He's already more interested in the sandwich he's crafted than the people around him. You could hardly blame the guy, it's a multi-layered meal designed by the gods, truly the Adonis of breaded meals.

He's sitting by himself, though the sandwich is probably big enough to count as another person. He looks perfectly approachable for a man looking enamored with his meal, but he'll be so kind as to glance up at Some and only nearly drops his sandwich in surprise. He follows it up with a friendly smile, hoping he hasn't offended the stranger.

"Hello..?" It's said with a cautious edge, he draws his sandwich a little closer to himself as if to protect it.

[gruesome]

Some could wish he weren't so very, very familiar with that kind of startled reaction. He pretends not to see it, though, glad to see it followed by a smile instead of suspicion.

"Hello. I think we haven't met?" He smiles, keeping his teeth mostly out of sight, keeping the lower mouth closed entirely. "Do you mind if I sit?"

[hanssome]

Hans has a little more exposure to fantastical things than most of your average humans, but he can't help being continuously bewildered by every new thing he sees here. At the very least, his reaction to a microwave makes his brief show of surprise seem nonexistent.

"No, I don't believe we have." He just barely shakes his head, lowering his sandwich as any obvious wariness wanes. "Of course not, I don't mind at all." His smile widens, though his mind is going over all of the possible outcomes of this little meeting. "Oh! I'm Hans, by the way."

[gruesome]

Some bows slightly from the waist, since his hands are full with plate and glass. "Some ovMennet." Setting them down, he tidily moves the chair out of his way, folding his hind legs to sit on the floor. Tall as he is, that works best. "Please, call me Some."

The plate he's set down has nothing so appetizing as Hans's sandwich, which Some can't help but eye a little enviously. He has what he always has - a slab (there is no better word for it) of thick, textured protein, looking like a white cheese sprinkled with rust. "Are you a tribute, or native?"

[hanssome]

It takes Hans a moment to realise what Some says is his name and not, in fact, a statement. There will be a brief show of confusion before the clarity dawns on him and he nods. Some is an incredibly interesting creature to observe, now that Hans isn't threatened by him. He had no idea they'd brought tributes who weren't at least humanoid, but he supposes there's no real reason to limit themselves when they're clearly so influential already.

Whoever they is, anyway.

Hans tries not to stare at whatever it is Some has in front of him, partly because it's rude and mostly because it's making him second guess his ability to eat his sandwich. "Definitely a tribute!" But he's glad it isn't too obvious. "Representing District Five, apparently. How about yourself?"

[gruesome]

"I belong to District Two." Representing has never felt like the right term to Some. How could he possibly represent any human community? "But I've only been there the one time. And I don't win," he added with a toothed smile. "So they don't like me there anyway."

[hanssome]

"It's a shame we don't get to see them more often." He says almost morosely, looking at his sandwich as if its to blame. "I can't help thinking we might do a little better if we were really standing for something."

He shrugs his shoulders and puts his sandwich down, seeming to have abandoned the idea of eating it for now. "Maybe if they could get to know you they'd like you better, I hardly know you and I like you already." He'll follow that with a sweet smile.

Rooftop

[iwatchtjhooker]

Sam was not exactly seeking company.

He wasn't avoiding it--at least, not consciously. But he did find himself with his thoughts too personal to be shared, his life too much to even begin explaining himself to anyone. He was barely thirty, he'd died more times than he wanted to count, and he was done being dicked around. Only it seemed, he wasn't. And not, this time, because his brother had loved him too much or the Devil wanted his soul. No, this time, it was because someone wanted him to keep killing for their entertainment. Well, he wasn't interested. He figured he'd just keep dying and hope they got bored.

But it meant there didn't seem to be much point in getting to know his fellow "tributes." Part of him knew he should be looking for a way out. A way to organize. Something, anything, useful. But most of him just stood on the edge of the roof, looking out over the Capitol, wondering if, at any point, he just... wouldn't come back.

[gruesome]

Some made sure he made a little noise with the door as he gained the roof. There was fresh scent on the stairs; someone either was up here or had been just recently. And out here, where all the light was the decorative little lanterns in the rooftop garden, and the cityglow, he wanted to make certain he startled no one.

The breeze up here felt good, after so long inside. First the museum, then the tower. He turned his face into it, the biggest pair of eyes shut, and followed it to the edge of the roof to let it scour through his fur. With the lesser eyes, he could see the heat of a human, and he smiled an acknowledgement towards him, teeth just a brief white gleam.

[iwatchtjhooker]

Sam turned to look, as he felt the presence of someone else on the rooftop. And then he started, noting the alien form, the reflection of too many teeth. After his life fighting monsters, not to mention the recent arena, he wasn't sure what reaction he was supposed to have. He wasn't sure whether he was supposed to feel more upset over his alarm or not being alarmed enough, but either way, something was broken.

He eyed the being warily, but as it didn't make any move, Sam realized it was either a tribute or one of those employed by the Capitol. And everyone he'd seen so far who worked there looked more or less human. If overdressed. So this was probably not here to eat him.

"Not going to eat me, are you?" he said mildly, completely unaware of how close to the mark he was coming.

[gruesome]

Some blinked, and turned to look, opening all his eyes. Scent had already told him this was a stranger, so at least he did not have to try to place that face. Despite his mild irritation with the question, he smiled again. "No. I am not that kind of monster."

[iwatchtjhooker]

Sam nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Gotcha," he said, sounding a little tired. "Just the same type we all are, huh?"

Another contestant. He hadn't seen him around, and with those teeth, he wasn't surprised he'd lasted longer than Sam. He hadn't decided yet how harshly he judged the ones who did what they'd had to. Some of him wanted to, and some knew he'd been there himself.

[gruesome]

He shrugged, pulling his shawl closer around his shoulders before the wind could tug it away. Taking a step closer, he offered him a hand. "Just another tribute. My name is Some ovMennet. I belong to District Two."

[emptytrousers]

Kili needed to be away from the training center, he needed to be away from the stylists that couldn't seem to understand what he wanted for braids. More than anything, he wanted a friendly face, someone he could talk to, but with the questions he had following his death, he didn't know what he could say. If he sought out a helping hand, would that make him look weak? And what of the reason for his braids in the first place? If intimidating was his goal, he would have a hard time proving it if he looked for consolation and reassurances.

Still, when he came across a café, he figured it to be as good a place as any to sit and rest while getting something to eat. Of course, he had a small stash on his person, but something fresh might help with the fear that threatened to take over any time he went more than a few blocks from the training center.

Just as he was about to order, he glanced up to see Some. Kili straightened and considered for only a moment before standing and waving to try and get his attention.

[gruesome]

Looking up from his little shopping bag, Some caught sight of Kili and straightened. Changing course through the other pedestrians, taking full advantage of the way they all wove out of their way to avoid contact with him, he crossed over to the cafe to join him.

"Hello again. I am glad to see you out."

[emptytrousers]

Kili absolutely beamed as Some approached and sat back down at the table, gesturing for the waiter to bring another menu. Not that Kili could really read it with such tiny print, but Capitol foods have thus far not let him down in terms of creativity, color, and taste. Usually pointing at some option would bring him something he would enjoy and then he would hold out the little card and no one seemed to bother him for coin.

He hoped today would be much the same.

With a brilliant smile, he pushed out the chair across from him with his foot. "Is it too bright for you with the sun?"

Perfect sensitivity right out of the gate with this one.

[gruesome]

Some pushed the chair aside, sitting on the floor where it had been. Tall as he was, that was best. He accepted the menu that the waiter brought, careful to keep his teeth concealed as he smiled at the human.

"Yes, usually. I stay out of the sunlight. Do you?" The dwarf had called himself caveborn, after all. "And how are you?"

[emptytrousers]

Oh, Kili didn't expect that and he didn't bother hiding the surprise that splashed across his face. However, once Some did indeed sit, it more or less put them on eye level, and returned the smile to the dwarf's face. Good idea, that one.

"I like the sun, even if we're more suited to the dark," Kili replied with a shrug. "It's an interesting place, this Capitol."

He didn't like it, really, but all of the bright colors and strange people served as a welcome distraction from the memories of the arena.

"Did you...?" He began then trailed off, what few manners he possessed getting the best of him. After all, it must be quite impolite to ask about another person's death.

[gruesome]

Some waited a moment, before he realized what Kili must have been referring to. "Oh. Yes. It was clean, though." His normally clipped accent went briefly more so, and he couldn't help but draw his foreleg a little closer in. "Yours too, I hope?"

[futilecycle]

The rooftop was one of Sigma's daily stops in his commitment to getting fresh air, and Sigma had wandered there today with a calm mind. Too much had happened lately and if he did not meditate, even if only for awhile, he would drive himself mad. And so, content to wander among the flowers, Sigma let his mind relax, until-

Ho-ly shit. What was that?!

Suddenly, the wise old Doctor was a ten year old sci-fi geek again, and he stares at Some from across the rooftop with a wondering smile on his face. He had seen Xenomorphs and he had seen mutant turtles, here, and was feverishly curious to find out what miraculous species of fiction this creature was (of course, knowing how alternate universes worked, he knew full well it wasn't fiction anymore). Over the year he had been here, Sigma had certainly seen him at a distance- he did not watch the recordings when he could avoid it, but remembered him from crownings and other such events- but never had he been close enough to speak with him. The Doctor surveys the other's choice of clothes and decides he does not seem quite as vicious or intimidating as a Xenomorph. Yes, perhaps he would even like the company...

But too awkward to initiate conversation, Sigma merely wanders in Some's general direction, a hopeful smile occasionally exchanged, hoping the other would strike up conversation.

[gruesome]

Avoiding the flowers as he always did, Some nevertheless liked the fountain, and he'd sprawled along the bench that circled it, most of his eleven-foot length stretched out, cat-like. He'd been lost in thought, dipping his restored forefoot in the water, wetting it up to the point where he could remember Susannah's riza cutting through, but it had been lonely contemplation, and he was only relieved to hear someone else on the path. Lifting his upper body off the bench, he smiled in greeting, head tilted.

"Hello. Sigma, is it right?"

[futilecycle]

Happy to be recognized, Sigma nodded, resuming his dignified persona. He was even polite! "Indeed. Forgive me that I cannot return your respect, but I do believe I have forgotten your name..." In truth, he had not heard it before (at least in relation to him), or else his eidetic memory would be able to recall it - still, he let it seem like the lapse of an old man's forgetful mind.

[gruesome]

"Some," he supplied. "My name is Some ovMennet, but just Some is necessary." He folded up, arranging his long body into a much smaller shape, freeing up much of the fountain's bench in case the other wanted to sit.

[futilecycle]

"Some," Sigma repeats. It was truly a blessing to meet new acquaintances outside of the Arena compared to within it.

He realizes he's been silently asked to take a seat, and the Doctor smiles. First he holds his hand out for a handshake- but then pulls it back tentatively, not sure if that was an appropriate way to greet someone who did not come from his earth. He stands there awkwardly, hand only half extended, looking at Some bashfully for confirmation.

[gruesome]

Grasping the problem, Some leaned forward slightly, enough to accept the handshake. "I've been around humans a good while. I know the gesture parts of the language almost as well as the spoken," he said, with a little grin. His six-fingered hand was not shaped right to clasp a human's, but his hands were warm and dry, not unpleasant at all if one didn't mind fur.