[Open] Life is a record playing on repeat

[seestheman]

WHO| Clara and Dennett, Clara and You
WHAT| Clara's back in the Capitol after her first arena and general other things in the weeks that follow.
WHEN| From a day or so after the Hellrena That Wasn't up until post-D3 announcement.
WHERE| All over
WARNINGS| Slapping of a scientist in one thread. Other than that, not much.


Out in the Capitol (Beginning of Week Four)
There's something about almost dying (or actually dying and being brought back, as the case may be) that makes a person really savor the little things in life. Like shopping. Not that Clara would consider herself a shoppaholic or anything like that, but she's always enjoyed it and it's as good an excuse as any to get out of the tower to explore the city.

Plus after the past few weeks, she could use a little retail therapy to make her feel like her life hasn't spun completely out of control.

Which is what has led her to a store front with signs boasting about their Amazing Tribute Memorabilia At The Best Prices!!!! There are, from what she can see in the window, paintings, photographs, calendars, t-shirts, and a wide variety of other things featuring the faces of a number of people she did and didn't recognize.

"You've got to be kidding me." Clara doesn't mean to say that aloud, but it comes out anyway as she tries to wrap her head around this.

Training Center (Anytime)
To say that Clara doesn't have much in the way of combat training is a huge understatement. The closest she's ever come to it was some self-defense classes and watching her mom's Tae-Bo tapes in high school (and even then, the VCR died when she was 16, which put an abrupt stop to that), and neither of those are all that useful when it comes to surviving in a death match.

She's at a punching bag, sloppily throwing kicks and punches that don't have much strength behind them. If the punching bag was a sparring partner, or an actual assailant, it would be remarkably easy to find an opening to strike back and take advantage of her lack of fighting skills.

Central Commons (Week Five)
The illness running rampant in the Capitol has made Clara more than a little wary about leaving District 10's suite for the past few days. For the most part, the only places she's been willing to go to for an extended period has been downstairs to train or to District 5 to see Alex (and even then, she usually managed to convince him to come up to 10 since there was someone on his floor who had contracted whatever this mystery illness was). But getting the gift of a respirator made her feel a little bit better about getting about going into the more public areas of the building.

Which is why she's sitting alone at a table with a large coffee (that's closer to a dessert of some sort, considering how much chocolate and caramel are in it along with the truly ridiculous amount of whipped cream on top) and a pastry of some sort, occasionally taking off the respirator for a sip or a bite. While she may be reading a trashy romance novel, she's mostly just enjoying the change in scenery and would welcome some conversation.

Comments

[Closed to Dennett Norton]

[seestheman]

Clara's mad as hell. She wasn't sure whether it was because of the news about District 3 and because the people in charge of Panem had shown how truly monstrous they were, or if it was because they had dragged innocent people into it. And sure, on some level she was thankful for the opportunity to have Alex back for however long this was going to last and to try to make things right, but that didn't keep her from being completely pissed off that they dragged her away from David at the worst time possible.

And then, just to make matters worse, of all of the people they could have brought here, they brought Dr. Norton. She would have never wanted to see him forced into this death match despite her anger towards him for coming into her house and lying to her face, or for never giving her answers about when (though it had felt more and more like if) Alex would be able to come home, or for the fact that she was certain that whatever he had done to Alex to make him act the way in the weeks following his homecoming had led to the seizure that Sellars had told her had killed him. He deserved a lot of things, but not this. Nobody deserved this.

Speak (or think, in this case) of the devil and he shall appear. If someone were to ask her why she did what she was about to do, Clara wasn't sure she'd have a logical answer. As childish as it may be, she got to her feet and beelined towards Dr. Norton before giving him a firm slap across his cheek.

well I see she got right to business! :P

[biomechatronic]

Really, his experience here has been one after another of terrible moments. First waking up here, then getting stabbed in the eye. Then waking up again. Then seeing Mrs Murphy. Then the expression on her face.

At least this is only an open palm and not a knitting needle, but, excuse him, because he's still a little, well, jumpy.

"Mrs...Clara." Maybe that would help, the words muffled by the hand covering his mouth, not-so-surreptitiously checking for damage. "I. Uh. You too?" He's not sure if he means her too...being here, or her too...attacking the innocent nerd. It's hard enough to make a sentence when you can still feel a wedding ring imprint on your face.

now or never and all that! X)

[seestheman]

As soon as Clara does it, she starts to regret it. This isn't her, despite her impulsiveness. Clara Murphy is prone to doing a lot of impulsive things, but slapping doctors, especially doctors who (despite their lies that she can't prove are lies) gave her husband a second chance, isn't one of them. She'll apologize to him for it eventually. But not right now because, as much as she regrets it, she can't bring herself to say I'm sorry at the moment.

It probably wouldn't be that effective coming from someone who looks as angry as she does at the moment.

"Yes, me too," she says as she tries to bite back the scathing tone that's itching to be set free, "and Alex." There were so many things she wanted to say to him, but didn't have a clue about where to start. There were the circumstances around Alex's death. Or the fact that he sat across from her in her living room and most likely lied to her face, if her suspicions were correct. Maybe it would be best to start from the immediate concerns, like why Alex couldn't remember anything that came after the explosion. "I need to know, did you do anything to Alex before he..." she trailed off for a moment, trying to bring herself to say died before forcing herself to get past the lump in her throat and continue, "Did you do something to him to make him forget what happened? Is that what caused the...the break? Or the seizure?"

[biomechatronic]

She might regret it, but honestly, after all the damage Dennett to the Murphy family, a slap on the face is getting off pretty easy.

Not that he'll tell her that. Or he'll try to stall telling her that as long as possible.

Which...doesn't sound like it's going to be very long. Alas.

"Alex? He's here? How is he?" Dennett is a tactless dork, but he does care about his patients.

Oh...that. "I. Er. Seizure? How did you know about--no, no I didn't cause that. I was trying to fix that, actually." So coherent, Dr Norton.

[seestheman]

"He's fine." Well, at least it's nice to see that he cares. Which isn't going to de-ice her tone all that much, but it's something. "He didn't last that long in the arena, but other than that, he's fine. And he's..." Is there a tactful way to say not acting like a zombie because of whatever you did to him? She doesn't think so. "...him."

That's probably the best way to say it that doesn't involve lashing out at him again.

"Sellars told me when he called me in," she stops for a second to collect herself and keep the words from catching in her throat, "to tell me what happened." For a moment she considers letting out a And you did an awful job of fixing that, considering it killed him, but decides against it. For now at least.

[biomechatronic]

Of course he cares. It's just...complicated. "I'm pretty sure he lasted longer than me." Hahahhahaha, yeah, maybe Dennett should leave the jokes to someone else. Anyone else. He twitches back, because that joke was so bad he figures he's earned another slap.

"When he called you in..." Oh. "Mrs Murphy." If he hesitated any more, he'd be speaking backwards. "...what exactly did he tell you 'happened'?"

[seestheman]

She gives him a small, humorless smile. His joke was bad, yes, but anything she could possibly say would be worse, and nobody needs that right now.

Until his question sinks in and any hint of a smile falls off of her face.

"He told me that..." Clara stops, trying to keep her voice even and steady, so as not to fall apart in front of him. It feels wrong telling him this, considering she hasn't even found a way to tell Alex (it's not like there there's an easy way for her to tell the man she had every intention of growing old with that, should they ever find a way home, it wasn't going to happen because he was already doomed), but there's a good chance that he already knows if he knows about the seizure. "...Alex had a psychotic break and killed another officer, and then he had a seizure and...he died. And that he wasn't going to let the media know about the break so David would never have to know and that Alex's legacy would stay intact." Despite her best efforts otherwise, she could feel her eyes welling up. "But I'm sure you already know all of this."

[biomechatronic]

Yyyyyeah, the less said about that joke's miserable heavy floundering...the better. To think he used to consider himself good with patients.

"Oh." There's no surprise in his voice, because he's not really surprised. It's a piece of the puzzle he hadn't had, but he knew Sellars well enough to predict the rough shape. "Mrs--Clara. Alex was fine. He is fine. Well, back in Detroit, he was fine. It was...politics." There's a flappy hand gesture because, well, they never really included him in the political machinations--not that he minded the omission. "They weren't going to wake him up. But I--I--". I what, Dennett? I saved him? Can you really say that? Really?

[seestheman]

It takes a moment for his words to sink in. After trying to grieve for Alex when she first arrived her, being reunited with him, and having to deal with her internal battle between wanting to stay here to keep Alex just a little bit longer and wanting to go home to David (as much as she knew that going home was impossible at the moment, it didn't change that gnawing feeling of guilt that grew in her stomach every time she felt grateful for the chance to be with him while she still could), it was almost too much.

"Are you serious?" There's a touch of hope in her voice, though it's decidedly cautious. This roller coaster of losing Alex and getting him back has been emotionally exhausting, to say the least, and the possibility of it ending well in the long run is enough to make all the grief and heartache worth it. There are things she still feels the need to grill him on, like answers for the lies and OmniCorp playing keepaway, but right now that isn't important. And unlike any of the other times Dr. Norton's given her some piece of news about Alex, there's a small smile on her face. "He's really alive?"

Mind if I throw one at her while she's passing through D5?

[celebrityskinned]

Venus, by contrast, seemingly believes herself immune to disease, or thinks that stubbornly sticking to her routines will somehow repel bad karma. She's still at the gym every morning, working her body over until her limbs are sore and her bones loose inside her flesh. She's still at a cafe every afternoon, spooning some caffeinated whipped-cream monstrosity into her mouth while going over a book slightly above her reading level and then a trashy magazine. And she's still in the District Five common room every afternoon, napping with her hands folded onto her stomach as if she's listening intently to the hum of the universe.

(In actuality, she drifts off by listening to her heartbeat. She used to not have one of those, and the presence of the rhythmic thump-thump still perplexes and fascinates her.)

She's just waking up from another one of her affairs with the unconscious when Clara closes the door to Alex's room behind her. It startles her a little bit; not enough to make her jump, but enough that her spine gives a tiny shudder, and she remembers a day when she wasn't so hypervigilant all the time. The days when death was a friend she was going to visit and not a relative she didn't want to hear from.

She sits up and rubs her hand across her face, somehow managing to not muss the perfectly-applied makeup.

"Clara, right?"

Of course!

[seestheman]

Clara's heard stories about those mythical women who can wake up and rub their faces and keep their makeup completely in place. Clara's never been one of those women, considering the best she could always hope for if she fell asleep with her makeup on was that her mascara didn't make her look too much like a raccoon. So seeing one of those people who can pull that off is kind of amazing and she totally doesn't mean to gawk at her.

"That'd be me," she replies. She knows she's seen this girl before, probably from watching the highlight reels of previous arenas when she was still trying to figure out just what was going on. She just can't remember her name. "You're one of Alex's suitemates, I assume?"

Re: Of course!

[celebrityskinned]

The secret is agents! Agents and coaching and much too much time spent in front of the camera.

"Venus Dee Milo. I live down the hall." And is very glad not to live in District Four, because if she can hear Alex clumping down the halls in his robot suit she's sure it's a hundred times worse from directly underneath. She holds her hand out for a shake, one of those friendly smiles on her face.

"I'm guessing from the wedding ring that I'll be seeing a lot of you around?"

[seestheman]

Maybe she should've accepted some of OmniCorp's offers of PR coaching for when the press came after her. Except, nah, she would suck at it. Better to just ignore them and try to go on with her life like everything was normal.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Venus," Clara says as she takes Venus's hand and gives her a small, but firm, shake. "It's a safe bet," there's the slightest hint of a self-deprecating laugh to her voice, "I'm sure that in a week or so, you'll probably be sick of seeing me around here."

[celebrityskinned]

"Probably not. Have you seen some of my roommates? A visitor who bathes regularly and has an 'indoor voice' is a damn Godsend." Venus' own handshake is a curious beast, something both intimate and strangely distant, practiced behind rope lines and at meet and greets. The goal of a handshake, she's been taught over and over, is to make someone feel seen and appreciated, but you must always be ready to let go and wrench free of the fans who demand a little too much.

"So tell me." She grabs a pen from where it's serving as a bookmark in one of her trashy magazines (this one features the headline TRIALS AND TRIBUTE-LATIONS: INSIDE CECIL AND CARLOS' SCANDALOUS ROMANCE). "Did Alex come with the robot-body? And before you say that's too personal, I'll just fill you in that my usual body is made out of vinyl and plexiglass."

[seestheman]

"If you were trying to make me thankful that I'm in Ten, good job." Nothing against most of District Five, but from the little she'd seen in between coming and going to and from Alex's room, it seemed a little too crazy for her down here. At least when compared to the (relative) calm of Ten. Or home (as calm as a house with an eight year old boy can be, anyway).

Clara was about to say something along the lines of 'That's kind of personal' and 'I don't think I'm comfortable talking about this to a stranger,' except...well, now she kind of had to, didn't she? "No, it's kind of a new development. Newer for him than for me."

And speaking of prying questions..."If that's what your body's usually like, then how are you...normal?" Way to be classy about it, Clara.

[celebrityskinned]

She waves a hand. "You've got the drunken rock boy. Not that Orc isn't a totally sweet guy, but I'm guessing he's a handful."

If Venus had a little less tact, she'd jokingly tell the anecdote about the Christmas that Orc got her sexy panties, not knowing what else a "pretty girl" would like.

She stands up, as if to show off the body Panem gave to her. Wiggles her fingers, turns in a circle. "Gift from the Capitol, I guess. I got no idea how they pulled it off. I was wondering if that's how Alex ended up as he is, if they're, like, experimenting on him. Trying to spice the show up by making people robo-men."

[seestheman]

"I wouldn't know, I haven't really met him yet. Unless you count cleaning up the kitchen after he's done in there as getting to know him." Maybe she should fix that at some point. And Clara's glad that Venus has more tact than that, because that's one story about her roommate that she doesn't need to hear.

Clara watches, suppressing a small giggle at her display, before the smile fades from Venus's explanation. "No, he was like that before we were brought here. There was a bombing back home and..." She pauses, unsure how to say it for a moment. "It was his best chance." She still isn't sure if, on some level, Alex resents her for accepting OmniCorp's offer. Not that she'd blame him if he did.

And then the first part of her explanation sunk in. "So they can do that here? Make a perfectly normal, healthy body?"

[Closed to Harley Quinn]

[seestheman]

It's been weeks since the last time she was able to sneak away to a coffee shop with a magazine for some personal time. As much as she loves her unexpected reunion with her husband and the chance to really spend some time with him in a place where they aren't constantly in fear of being murdered horribly by people they share a glorified apartment building with, she needs some time to herself. Especially time to herself with a frozen confectionery coffee, some celebrity gossip, and acoustic guitar music.

Which is why she's curled up in an overstuffed armchair in a mostly abandoned corner of the cozy little coffee shop, wrapping her head around the fact that she's reading gossip about the people she lives with (and about her and her husband, which makes her laugh more than it probably should).

Re: [Closed to Harley Quinn]

[revvinguptheharley]

"Ooo~ I had no idea Mr. Murphy was getting so familiar with the other tributes of District Nine." A cheerful voice purred in her ear.

"Is it true that they need a full tool box just to get to his man parts? I mean I figure if anyone would know it's you."

A bouncy blond woman clad in...what looked to be a dress made out of pages from different magazines was looming behind Clara and reading a particularly smutty accusation in the article. According to this rag the entire District Nine was basically a hot pot of hormones where if you weren't getting laid you were strung out on Morphling pills.

[seestheman]

"Don't believe everything you read," Clara retorted, completely avoiding her question. That's...sensitive territory, to say the least, and considering she hadn't exactly found an opportunity to have that oh so awkward conversation with Alex yet, she definitely wasn't going to be talking to any personal space invaders about their sex life.

It takes her a moment to realize that the woman standing over her in a dress that reminds her of something Lady Gaga would have worn in her heyday is also on the page she's looking at. Harley Quinn (according to the magazine)...huh, interesting name. "I'd introduce myself, but apparently the Capitol already did that for me."

[revvinguptheharley]

"Well in a sense." Harley chuckled and vanished from sight reappearing almost like magic behind the other sofa where she casually planted her hands on the back of it and flipped frontwards to land bottom first on the seat directly opposite Clara.

"I was watching the arena of course. It's my job and all, not a bad run for a first timer with no powers to speak of." She praised and then looked unsure "You don't have any special powers do ya? Magical or Metahuman? I mean if you're keeping them a secret that's all well and good I was just curious since I didn't see any but sometimes arenas put a lockdown on that sorta thing."

[seestheman]

Clara isn't completely flabbergasted by Harley's small gymnastics display. Really, it's hard to be flabbergasted by much of anything after having a conversation with a giant crab and meeting someone who lived in the 19th century. Which isn't to say that she's unimpressed, because she definitely is.

"Um, thanks." She laughs a little at that line of questioning. If she had superpowers, she would have used them in the Arena. "No, not unless you're counting that my son's convinced I'm psychic because I always seem to know when he's about to do something." Which, really, is instinct more than anything. The only times the house gets that quiet when he's home and awake is right before he does something incredibly foolish. "How about you? Do you have some sort of amazing agility power or are you just that good at gymnastics?"

[revvinguptheharley]

"Well yes and no." She rocked back and forth on her seat like an eager child.

"I got into college on a gymnastic scholarship, which led to a long career of me dodging bullets and fists by springing around wildly. Later a super smart bio-scientist girlfriend of mine gave me this chemical cocktail that makes me even stronger and faster then normal humans. But while I'm in the capitol I'm just your average completely insane gymnast turned therapist turned clown criminal." She laughed.

[seestheman]

There was the explanation that Clara was expecting about lifelong goals towards competing at the Olympics or something like that. Which is why she's just a touch surprised at Harley's explanation. "Interesting resume you've got there."

Would it be rude to ask her how she got to be a mentor? Probably. Which was why, instead, she went with the other question that was lurking around in her mind. "Do these people really believe that that Tower's a massive ongoing orgy, or do they just print this stuff to get a rise out of us?"

[revvinguptheharley]

Harley held her fingers out about an inch apart. "Little bit yeah. I mean there's plenty who know better then to believe the tabloids and talking heads. But I'd say a pretty large chunk of the city just eats up whatever they're told. And they are fickle! So fickle!" She cried flopping dramatically over the arm of her sofa. "I was everyone's favorite one week and then the next week all it took was for the gamemakers to say I was a traitor. Next thing you know I'm no longer welcome anywhere." She pouted her lip before perking up like a switch had been flipped.

"That was ages ago though."