thecapitol | [Open] Step One: Cut a Hole in the Box

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[Open] Step One: Cut a Hole in the Box

Who: Hanji Zoe, open
What: Hanji is fresh off the metaphorical boat. She tries to settle her mind by taking things apart.
Where: Training Center
When: Afternoon, March 22
Warnings: References to violent death, in all likelyhood.

"Unsettling" was a very mild way to describe the situation Hanji was in. It was almost too much for her to grasp - spirited away by some unknown method to compete in gladitorial games for the amusement of others? That was something out of terrible fiction (not that Hanji read much fiction these days). It was an impossibility, completely unlikely. Or had been until a couple hours ago. She hadn't bothered with threats or pleading. The guards and officials didn't seem like the sort to respond well to that and fornow the best thing she could do waas gather information.

After a quick introductory lesson on the building she was staying in and a brief tour of her new apartment (prison cell), she'd been left to fend for herself. The sheer amount of luxury and dcadence that surrounded her was equally amazing and terrifying. She was still used to spare meals of black bread and potato soup. The fact that she could snap her fingers and have practically anything delivered to her by servants was beyond her experience and left her feeling like a child who'd suddenly been told they have the run of a candy shop, if not a little unsettled.

And then there was the technology and the lack of titans. They had electric lights, every room had indoor plumbing, and a million other things that they'd only talked about in theory or never even imagined at home. She wanted to see all of it. And she wanted to know why they didn'th ave titans. No one had answered that one yet.

Which was way when she'd found a holoprojector in the training room, she'd "borrowed" a few smaller knives and set about trying to get the casing off to get a look at the innards. Besidezs doing something vaguely productive helped her think. How did they run everythingon electricity, anyway? The tip of her tongue poked between her lips, brow furrowed in concentration as she tried to use one of the knives as an improvised screwdriver.

The moment anyone passed close enough for her to hear them, she waved a hand in their general direction, "Hey! Pass me something to use as a hammer!"

A little while later and she had the panel off, a tangle of wires exposed, her goggles snapped over her eyes as she tried to make heads or tails of the thing.

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Punchy's not a hardware type. He's always been significantly more interested in software, in the sweet bliss of a world that existed simultaneously in two dimensions and in limitless directions in his mind. Physical engineering always seemed trapped by gravity and capacity, and while Punchy doesn't mind the rules of programming, something about tangible reality strikes him as boring. He'll work with it, but it doesn't thrill him.

So he doesn't pay much attention to the person in the corner fiddling with the projector until she calls for help, and he realizes that he doesn't recognize her voice. She's new, and something about the combination of "female + new + potential engineer" takes Punchy from apathetic to enthused in about ten seconds flat. He saunters over, all flashy clothes and big grin and unfortunate face tattoo, and leans on the projector with his elbow.

"'Ey, shawty." He holds a mace out to her. "This work?"

Hanji has no idea what "shawty" means, but it's probably slang. Damn kids and their new-fangled ways. She glances up with a grin and a tip of her head as she reaches out to take the mace. Punchy - Punchy is interesting and that's saying something, considering the colorful personalities she works with on a daily basis (and considering how 'interesting' she tends to be herself). He's got flash.

She'll give him that much, anyway.

"Perfect! Thanks!"

Immediately, she's banging away, trying to leverage the damn panel off with a knife and her impromptu hammer. It makes conversation a bit difficult, but she's still trying.

"You're another Tribute, aren't you?"

"Damn straight, shawty." Punchy doesn't mind. From this angle, Hanji's hunched over in a way that gives Punchy a cursory-but-not-creepy perspective of her rear end. He's not eyebanging, he's just...failing to move his eyes away. "Name's Punchy."

Granted, sometimes the Gamemakers see fit to still call him Matthew, but fuck those hoes. Punchy feels very passionately that he still deserves his heroic moniker.

"You?"

Hanji finally knocks the panel off and she straightens, dusting her hands off. Success! Sort of. Now she has a tangle of wires to look at and she has no idea what any of them do. She turns back to Punchy and offers a hand, "Hanji."

She pauses a moment and then cocks her head, "Shawty - I've never heard that word. What does it mean?"

Punchy shakes her hand with enough enthusiasm to move her shoulder.

"It means a fine piece of ass, lady girl." He winks. It looks ridiculous.

Hanji blinks in surprise, expression baffled for a moment. Then she breaks out in a raucous peal of laughter and gives Punchy a hearty thumb on the shoulder. Honestly, it's kind of cute. He's, what, seventeen? Not that much older then some of the recruits she sees coming through. It takes her about half a minute to stop laughing. She finally steps back with a sigh, "That's cute."

Punchy frowns. No, he scowls. "I ain't cute, I'm baller. And I be giving you a compliment, so don't be dissing with your..."

He waves his hands at her like "all of this" or "your laughing" or whatever.

"No, no, you're cute! Really!" Hanji's still laughing good-naturedly and slings her arm around his shoulder in a friendly manner.

"But you should try for girls your own age, don't you think?"

Her smile is incredibly disarming.

"I ain't discriminatin', is all I'm saying. I like some shawties with a brain, too." He has groupies (horrifying as that is to imagine), but he has to admit he appreciates that Hanji's at least playing with the projector. Not his ideal thing to experiment on, but it at least shows a spark.

And an idea begins to take root.

"What you know about computers?"

Hanji's laughter trails off and she gives Punchy a long, blank look. "What's a computer?"

Well, they obviously compute things, but beyond that, she's in the dark.

Punchy's face falls. Crashes, rather. It's a rather devastated look.

And then, as quickly as it left, the peppiness comes back. "I can show you, bizzle! It'll blow your mind!"

The way he reacts makes Hanji actually take notice. That was strange, wasn't it? She smiles apologetically and lifts a hand to scratch at her chin.

"Well, I like seeing new things - so sure! I'd love that!"

"Boss." He holds his hand out in a fist for a bro-pound. "I'm like, an O.G. on computer science. Fucking virtual gangsta, yo."

And he grabs he wrist and moves to take her to the elevators so he can show her his codemonkey cave.

"A... what?"

Hanji lets herself be dragged (and leaves him hanging on the fist pound, sadly). She's mildly curious, after all. And a little amused. She waits for the elevator, giving him a curious look.

"An... oh-gee? What is that?"

"Original gangsta," Punchy says, nodding as if he's explained everything. "You know, means I know my way around the place."

He hops in the elevator, looking a bit jittery as he does, and hits a button to take them upstairs.

"Ah, I see. It doesn't have anything to do with criminals, does it?"

She slips into the elevator alongside him and waits, casting a quick glance out through the glass. She's still a bit awed by everything here.

"Criminals? Nah, this is just baller gangstas, not street level." Reconciling the reverence for drug dealers and pimps with his superhero lifestyle is a task Punchy knows is both daunting and too much for him right now, so he hasn't. He'll work on that later.

The elevator brings them to District Six. "Which suite you at, shawty?"

"I... have no idea what that means," Hanji admits with a quirky little smile. She's almost used to it by now.

She glances at the elevator panel, then points upward, "District Nine! At least that's what they told me."

"I don't know shit about Dee Nine. I got homies in Three, though. And Twelve." He shrugs and nearly takes her by the hand in dragging her to his room, as if that's totally normal for a teenager to do with a thirty-something woman. His room is relatively spartan, with a mattress on the floor, candy wrappers surrounding a desk and the only prized possession being a computer that was clearly built from spare parts.

He gestures at it. "Voilá."

Hanji doesn't really mind being dragged around. Usually it's her doing the dragging, though. She comes up short in his room. The spartan nature doesn't bother her much and her eyes instantly light up when she sees the computer. Well, she has no idea what it is, but still...

"...how does it work?"

Punchy swaggers over and pets it like it's Dr. Evil's cat. And he presses the power button.

All behold the glowy white box, Hanji.

Hanji makes a suitable impressed-sounding noise. She's seen a lot in the short time she's been here, but it's still all incredibly fascinating. She darts over to peer at the glowing box, trying to get a better idea of what made it tick, "How does this thing work? It's powered by electricity, isn't it? But - there's no machinery? No moving parts?"

She can hear a fan whirring somewhere inside of it, but it's surprisingly quiet, all things considered.

"Moving parts on the inside, but not much. All electric. I built it myself." He pats it gently, then uses his sleeve to wipe away a smudge of fingerprints. He types in a password. "It processes. Got mad power in here. What do you want to know? Who you want to talk to?"

"Everything," Hanji exclaims and then corrects herself, "As much as possible! Who runs this place? What's their goal, aside from having us kill one another? How do they do this? What do they get out of it?"

Punchy opens his mouth to talk, and then stops. He swallows.

"Shawty, you askin' the wrong dawg. I'mma just show you email, 'kay?"

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[Open] Step One: Cut a Hole in the Box

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