thecapitol | (no subject)

WHO| Guy and Julian, Guy and YOU
WHAT| Guy's post-arena stuff
WHEN| Catch-all, week 6 through to right before the Crowning, some threads timed after
WHERE| All over, just state where you're catching him in the subject
WARNINGS| cw: violence and mild gore in the Azula thread

Guy's Room - Closed to Julian

Guy was not having a good time of things right after the arena.

He was a lump now. Apparently that was the next stage in human evolution where he was from, lumpdom, and the stress of the last arena had caused him to evolve. He was a creature of the lump, a Lumpy One, living in his little nest under his blankets in his room. That was the place he slept every night, rather than using the mattress, which always left him with the creeping feeling he was sleeping in some creature's open mouth.

It was a comfy nest and one he apparently had decided he was never leaving from again if he could help it.

District Six Common Area - Open

A few days had passed since the arena and Guy was feeling a little better. The feeling of being trapped in this place was growing more and more intense as time went on, so he'd spent quite some time walking around the city.

The people there and their attention irritated him, though, and the city just wasn't big enough. Other than the parks, it wasn't full of things he actually wanted to see, just endless concrete and glass.

It wasn't natural, having all these people crammed into such artificial places.

So he was back in the District Six common room because even if he had to stay still, it was safe from the outside world.

Right now he kneeling on the floor working on something, curled around it with the same interest a child might show an anthill. He'd broken a vase for the pieces and gently ushered away the avox that had tried to clean it up, planning on cleaning it up himself so the poor thing didn't have to. He was working with the multicolored pieces, sanding down the edges so they weren't sharp and scratching holes in them to make them and other odds and ends into a little necklace.

A thank you gift for someone.

Though occupied with his work, he wasn't averse to talking to people, though. (When was he ever?) So any of his district mates - or visitors passing on through - would find him fairly chatty if they struck up a conversation.

Training Area - Open

Guy knew he needed to learn to fight better, which was why he had decided to spend more time in the Training Center. There was only so much you could learn by throwing things at targets, though, and he didn't quite trust the trainers so he was hoping people he knew might be willing to teach him things.

Of course, he had plenty himself he could teach in turn, something people passing by might see as he occupied himself in the areas that taught survival skills. Fire sprang from his fingertips within seconds the times he worked on making them, and the complicated traps from vines he made snapped up the dummies he tossed into them and flung them around violently.

No reason he couldn't work on getting better at the skills he already had, right? and there was always the chance someone might be interested in learning and teaching him something he didn't know in turn.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Ziva actually laughed. It's a pleased sound, not mocking, though the smirk might be a bit much. "Good. You do have a head on your shoulders. That makes my job easier."

She also didn't mind the rudeness. Not at all. Her own social skills were...underdeveloped, and she was just as capable of delivering insult without truly meaning it. It showed in her awkward speech more than anything these days, because she hadn't bothered to change the way she talked around the Capitol.

"I did not watch you, before. I was in District 6. I have always taken...liberties, when it comes to having to observe. So far, all I know of you is the face you wear."

Her smile is sharp, like the knives at her side. "So show me what you already know, so I can teach you something you may not."

"District six, as in you were in District six like you grew up there, or like you're one of us that got put there and won an arena?" Guy asked.

He didn't trust Capitol people easily. Some seemed fine, like Cinna, Katniss, Peeta, and even Effie, but others were fairly terrible and he was sometimes slow to warm up to them.

He had sympathy for the ones that few up in the districts, certainly, but not all of them were nice. Lestat, for instance, had been a jerk.

"I grew up there. In the desert." She tilts her head, as if she's trying to get a better look at him from another angle, considering.

"If you do not trust me because of that, it would be wise indeed. I am not going to tell you that you should, because it does not matter."

She waves a hand. Take her advice or not, she has others that she could impart her skills to.

"Depends on why you're teaching me. Are you one of those mentors?"

He needed to know more about her first. He tossed twigs on his fire and coaxed it into a roaring little blaze, crackling away with very little smoke.

"Because the last mentor that tried to teach me things thought his biggest priority was making sure I took a bath and he told me the Capitol was better than my 'horrid little world.'"

Lestat had been a horrible first exposure to his mentors.

"So if you actually want to help me, fine, but if you're going to be like that and tell me how lucky I am to be here and how I should be happy to play my little part in your world's severe dysfunction, I'm not interested."

"I am." She shrugged. "But that is not what I am here for. I do not care if you bathe, certainly. And I would rather not be here either."

She prefers the heat and the sun, losing herself in the wilderness for days at a time. The Capitol is a cage, it's cold and she hates it.

"I am here to do my best to see that you survive. That is all. I am not here to be your friend, no. But I am also not here to tell you lies."

He glanced up at her and then back to his fire.

"So no telling me I should be happy to be here or pretending any of this makes sense?"

"Why would I tell you that. I prefer to face reality--you will not be happy to be here, no matter what I say. It is no surprise. The only people happy to be here are the ones watching you die."

She says this bluntly, because she's not the sort to try to make a pretty euphemism out of it. There's no delicate way to phrase it, as far as she's concerned. The spectators are engaged in the game and cheering for the winner, yes, but they're also riveted by the death.

"None of us who have been in that Arena are happy. Not if we're from the outlying Districts, anyway."

"All I want is the truth. I can understand why they have the Games, even if it's horrible. Dominance. To show they have power. To make the districts afraid. It's about control of everyone and everything. It's horrible but I understand that."

He shook his head.

"I don't understand pretending it's something it's not or making us pretend it. That part is the hard part so as long as you don't expect me to smile and pretend things are okay, we'll be fine. It's hard enough doing it at the parties and al the places I have to."

"The Games do not end when you win. But no, I am not here to make you presentable for the cameras, tell you to smile." Ziva doesn't look like the type to smile much herself, at the moment.

"That is not my specialty. You want tricks to survive, those I can give you--if you need to learn to play the game outside of the Arena, you would be best served by talking to Jesse or Stephen."

He wasn't sure he wanted to know but he knew it was something he might have to learn, that it was something beyond showering and wearing what the stupid stylists wanted.

For now, though, he'd take her offer for what it was.

"I'm good on survival skills and traps but I need help with cold weather - we don't have it back home so I have no idea what I'd need to know for a cold arena. And I don't know how to actually fight people. I'm very good with a spear and a knife and I think I can pick up a bow and arrow pretty easily, but I need help learning how to fight if it's down to no weapons or if they're very skilled with a weapon like a sword."

If all he had was a sword or knife instead of a spear and the other person was a skilled swordsman, he'd be in trouble.

Ziva is, perhaps, selling herself a bit short--she's also rather good at pretending. But she hates doing it, and hates passing on what she 'knows'. Plus, she can't help but think her general strategy of 'flirt and flash some skin' wouldn't work here.

"Stay dry. That is the most important thing. Shelter as well. Snow is actually a good insulator, a simple snow cave is acceptable shelter when you are going to be moving from place to place. Build it small, to keep heat in. For water, do not eat snow. It will lower your body temperature and cause harm. Melt it first." She ticks the first few things off on her fingers until she just starts talking, imparting what knowledge she does have--granted, it's mostly theoretical, since her practical experience is all in the desert. But she knows still.

"As for a fight..." Her smile now is slightly dangerous. This is where she excels. "If you are down to your hands, your opponent is likely to be overconfident. Use your elbows and knees, they are hard, and you do not want to injure your hands with foolish punches. Short, quick strikes are best. If someone is coming at you with a sword, do not mistake--they mean to kill. Strike for the eyes, the throat, temple--any place that is not covered in fat and muscle."

She gets up, stretching and shifting her neck back and forth. "If you want to see, come at me."

"Okay."

Guy picked up a stick, specifically so he could imitate he was fighting with a sword, held out his hand as if he was holding a sword and then made to attack her as if he was trying to behead her.