thecapitol | (no subject)

Who: Topher and OPEN
When: Week Six and Seven
Where: Out and About
What: Reunions and tears. Probably not many tears

It was strange returning to this place. Strange, but not as frightening as one might think.

Okay, the whole death arena thing was kinda scary, but if Topher just ignored that whole issue, then coming back wasn't so bad. It certainly made things that happened back home easier to forget. Whiskey, Claire, whoever was a giant headache. Run around and trying not to die? Only a small headache that was easily soothed by juice boxes and cake.

One frustration was wandering around in a constant state of deja vu. Everything was familiar and yet sometimes he had zero idea why he knew a thing or person. He was normally not one for going outside under the best circumstances, but with this awkward memory thing he tried to at least take time out to wander around and jog his memory.

The more he wandered the more he was annoyed by how many people there were and how they all wanted to talk to him only to become offended when he stayed silent. Socialization was for chumps and Topher was no chump. What he was, was hungry, so he braved the line of some brightly decorated monstrosity of a cafe and ordered an extra large slice of whatever had the most chocolate. He sat at a table in the corner and tucked into his own chocolate profiteroles cake.

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"Some?" Topher had to think for a moment. He'd never been too sociable with the other Tributes, but he did think he'd remember someone with such a weird name. "Oh, the alien spider guy!" He gave a mental shiver.

"Yeah, it's sort of coming back. It's like that feeling of déjà vu, or like a word on the tip of your tongue that you can quite recall. Annoying really." He scratched his head with his pencil as he leaned closer to Sherlock. "So, enlighten me. Are they messing with our grey matter or are they really sending us back home only to be dragged back?"

"I hear voices!"

Punchy doesn't appear to have ever heard of the concept of 'quiet' in a library. He thunders down the staircase from the third floor like an avalanche of footfall and slides down the banister at the end before drumming his hands on the desk next to both Topher and Sherlock. Two of his favorite people.

For his part, Punchy hasn't really been looking for books (unsurprisingly). He was just looking to see if this place had a vending machine. He still has that awful face tattoo, although at the moment it's the second least-appealing thing on his face, as he has a decidedly orange smear of artificial cheese under one eye like warpaint. How it got there is anyone's best guess.

"'Ey, homies, what's cracking? Didn't know y'all was tight."

"I think sending us back home is in fact the opposite entirely," Sherlock said. "I think--" But he was interupted by Punchy's appearance, and he wasn't that displeased to be so.

It wasn't a theory he had completely firm in his mind, and he didn't like going into theories without concrete data.

"Punchy, you up on our weebs Topher Brink?"

Edited 2014-04-09 00:44 (UTC)

There's no stopping the smile that spreads across Topher's face when he hears Punchy's loud voice echoing in the library. So far he'd avoided the guy, but for the life of him Topher could figure out why he had wanted to, except maybe the sudden flash of memories that hit him. Laughter, pain, fear, death. It's a thousand emotions all at once and even his brain struggles to process it all. Topher's hands come up so that he can rub his temples and hopefully massage the headache away before it hits him.

"Don't-don't do that," he mumbles to Sherlock. It was weird to see the man take on the manner of Punchy. "Hey, Punch. What the hell did you do to your face?"

"Toph's one of my ride-or-dies here, Holmesboy." Punchy flops down on the table, sprawling over it like a cat and accidentally knocking over a stack of books. He rubs his tattoo.

"What, you don't like it?" Punchy manages to look both stricken and defensive at that. "I was trying to surprise you for your return."

That's Punch trying to joke, bee tee double you.

He arches an eyebrow.

"Well, that's a high recommendation," He said, glancing back at Topher. "I suppose I'll have to give you a smidgen more credit, now."

He catches one of the books while the others clatter to the floor, and slips it back onto the table.

The tattoo is ridiculous, but Punchy's face is Punchy's face, and Sherlock is more than happy to let him do what he likes to it.

"Smidgen? Wow, don't go too far out of your comfort zone, people might start thinking your human." Topher believed he was completely trustworthy, and he was...to an extent.

He looks back over at Punchy and tries hard not to laugh. "You could have just made me a card, or maybe gotten something less W-W-E."