open;

[aintyourdad]

Who| Joel and OPEN!
What| Joel's (not so) auspicious return to the Capitol. The arena messed him up pretty bad, and now he's got stuff to catch up on here.
Where| Various; see starters.
When| Week 6, possibly into week 7.
Warnings/Notes| Lots and lots of manpain. Probably some cussing, possibly discussion of child death and zombie violence.

[ 1: D8 suites; ]

Joel spends the better part of three days after his return in his room. He's got a stash of food, and he's used to not bathing for long periods of time. He can't bring himself to leave, regardless. Not after all that happened. Not after Sarah. He couldn't save her, again. He couldn't save Riley. He couldn't save Clem. Clem. Christ. And now Ellie's alone in that hellish place, and he can't face it.

He can't.

[ 2: D8 common area; ]

When he finally emerges from his room, bleary and sleep-deprived and thinner than before he went into the arena, Joel makes a beeline for the kitchen area. It's one of the things that he can always do to calm himself down here - cook. Fresh food, good food, is in abundance here, and Joel takes advantage of it. It's almost therapeutic for him.

Of course, there's no avoiding the multiple television screens that are always on in the common area, proclaiming the latest "news". A news report catches his eye, and for a while he's enraptured, unable to look away as the anchor details the plague, the quarantines - and an entire district, blown off the map.

Joel's face darkens, into a scowl, something tight and disgusted but not surprised, not horrified. If anything, it's all too familiar. No wonder it's so quiet around this place.

"Jesus Christ," he mutters, and then goes back to his cooking.

[ 3: Training Center; ]

Eventually, by the end of the week, in need of something else to occupy him, Joel ventures to the training center. He doesn't think training really does him much good - his skills were all acquired through long practice. But it gives him occupation, and it can be a good idea to check out who else is around, and what they're doing

Size up the competition, so to speak.

[ 4: A coffee shop; ]

By the end of the week, with the quarantines lifted and the fear of disease essentially gone, the city is getting back to normal - well, normal by Capitol standards, anyway. It's strange, to see a place recovering from a disease. Joel's world never recovered. It just fell apart, completely.

But there's no point dwelling on it. If he does that, he'll just start to think about things better left alone. His old life. Sarah. Hell, even Ellie. At least getting out of the Tribute Center gets him away from all the screens for a while. He watches sometimes, to see if they're following Ellie at all, but just as often he can't, doesn't want to, doesn't see the point. So he finds a coffee shop, a secluded one, away from the big touristy areas. Good strong coffee is what he needs.

Comments

2!

[notdavinci]

By all rights, Siroc ought to be doing something usual. His fingers and even part of his brain are almost itching to get ahold of some materials, something to read about the obviously advanced science of this world, or the history itself. The basic gist of Panem's organization is clear enough, but it's so HARD to find more, and Siroc is incredibly bored without being able to.

So, naturally, as the bored and vaguely gifted are prone to doing when there is nothing else to catch their interest, he's experimenting as he can. The fact that this experimenting involves him being crouched behind one of the screens, studying the wires and cords connecting the monitors. And potentially using the edge of a knife to very carefully strip away the coating of a few of them.

What happens if he pulls the wiring inside each cord apart? Well, besides a few sparks that Joel might notice anyway? What happens when a bored genius decides that it is time to try connecting the exposed wires of two cords together?

Well, there's a loud popping noise, a spark, some smoke, a picture going dead and the smell of burnt hair, that's what. Considering this happens right around the time he hears Joel speak, Siroc can only contend that that was also meant for his little explosion, and he's peeking out from behind the screens, hair obviously scorched, as he spots one of his district mates, and offers a sheepish smile.

"That was surprisingly unexpected. I hope you weren't watching that."

[aintyourdad]

Joel is pretty good by now at ignoring the vagaries of most of his roommates - what they do is their business, as far as he's concerned, as long as it's not stepping on his toes. Right now, the only thing that would enter into his haze of cooking would be someone intruding in the kitchen area, taking his food without his permission, something like that.

He hates the news anyway. He hates all the screens, so when a couple of them short out, well. He just shrugs.

"Nope," he says, turning back to his cooking. "It's all bullshit anyway. Rots your brain."

[notdavinci]

"It IS rather repetitive." Siroc admits, making a face, and running a hand through his slightly scorched hair, though at least he's managed to keep his eyebrows this time. "I'd actually wondered if these things managed to show anything else. It would seem that the theory that indoctrination works through rote repetition IS, in fact, alive and well."

And here he'd thought the churches were the best at that, but apparently, in a world without those, brand new methods and channels were faithfully exercised instead. Snorting, he turns away from the chaos he's managed to create, for now at least. Spare wires can, and do always come in handy, after all, once he worked out the best way to disconnect them without managing to kill himself in the process. For now, though, he stays there on the floor, not doing much of anything just yet.

"They did air footage of you already." he adds, a little bemused by a culture that has to witness everything, and that bemusement definitely shows. "Looks like one hell of a tough break."

[aintyourdad]

Joel has no doubt the Capitol has every second of his time in the arena on tape, ready and able to reel it out whenever they feel like. Obviously they pick and choose the most dramatic, tabloid-television worthy moments for the highlight reels, and there were probably a lot of them this time around.

Human suffering is high in entertainment value.

"Like I said," he murmurs, cracking open a few eggs into a pan. He's not actually sure what time of day it is - he's lost track - but any time is a good time for breakfast. "Rots your brain."

Probably a bad word choice, because now he's just thinking about Sarah again. Or that thing that was masquerading as his daughter. He slams a package of uncooked bacon on the counter, trying to get it out of his head.

3

[hit_girl_mindy]

When you have unresolved issues and a lot on your mind, there's the ever present need to just PUNCH things, and Mindy had her outlet. With just a grey top, blue shorts and her hair in a pony tail, she looks far from the girl she was when she was crowned at her party or even lounging around the suite: here Mindy meant business, and it was obvious more than a few things were on her mind.

When her fists hurt she switched to kick: nice, solid kicks that made the bag swing and sway with the power it packed. She paused when she heard someone approaching and, seeing it was Joel, swore.

"They got you. Shit."

[aintyourdad]

Joel turns from his contemplation of the survival setups at the sound of Mindy's voice. She's so young - and she acts it, in a lot of ways. But she's also seen more than any child should. Like all the kids here, and like all the kids here it makes him a little sad whenever he talks to her.

"It happens. Surprised I lasted as long as I did, honestly. Ellie pulled my ass through the fire again."

He sighs, shoulders slumping a little. "She's still in there."

[hit_girl_mindy]

She would have been happy to hear Joel's assessment about her childhood, but that was neither here nor there. What did very much bother her was knowing that Ellie had no more protection now, and it was still that very, very fucked up Arena. Riley had gone down, Sandy and Clem had bitten the dust, and it just looked like it as getting worse.

"Well. She's damn good when some psychopath isn't stabbing the shit out of her. Wish she still wasn't, but maybe she has a good chance now to show the sponsors what she can really do. Starting to wonder if she's better off out there than here though."

She cleared her throat. "Did you hear about Starkiller?" Because she KNEW he heard about District 3 by now.

[aintyourdad]

"She's always damn good," Joel says quietly, moving to crouch down at a fire-starting station. He doesn't need to practice, it just seems as good a place as any to sit for a moment, and keep an eye on the other comings and goings of the training center.

"Starkiller? No. Who's that, and what'd he do?"

3 <_<

[smarterthanthem]

"Hi."

It's a very quiet greeting from a girl who's nervously rubbing one arm and trying not to shuffle her feet as she does so. Approaching Joel was nerve racking, she knew what he'd last seen of her even though she hadn't yet been able to bring herself to look at the footage, might never be able to.

She doesn't know what he'll think to see her again after that.

[aintyourdad]

He knows, logically, that Clem will probably be back. Some people die in the arena and just don't come back, but most do. Most do.

The sound of her voice still throws him a little, though, still makes his head snap around and sends a pang through his chest, like a knife. He stares at her a moment, wondering if he should just walk away.

But she's just a kid. Younger than Ellie, even. Joel may be an asshole, he may push people away, but he can't just turn his back on this child.

After a moment, he crouches down, putting a hand on her shoulder, studying her face. "Hey. You alright?"

[smarterthanthem]

Clementine swallows, looking into his face, feeling the weight of his hand on her shoulder.

Alright? No, not really. She still isn't making peace with the fact that she died and worse she's not forgiving herself for the circumstances of how it happened and what came after. "I'm doing okay, I guess."

How does she even begin to talk about this? Well, it seems best first to reciprocate his question. "How are you?"

[aintyourdad]

Frankly, Joel has no idea what to say - what anyone can say, to help make better what happened to her. He's not sure there are words for it. He can't imagine what something like that would do to him, let alone this child.

"I'm okay," he finally says. "A little tired. Sounds like they had some excitement around here while we were gone, huh?" It's probably better not to talk about it at all.

4.

[dying]

Thane slipped away from the crowds of people early in the day. He didn't enjoy spending extended periods of time around people. He had, physically, been feeling better than he did in the arena. His body was back to normal, as he expected. He stopped outside of the coffee shop. It is almost empty. Just how he likes it. He steps inside, hands behind his back as he orders himself a tea.

The tea gets to him in a cup with a lid - strange - but he takes it.

He has seen the man before, not often, and exclusively on videos from within the arena. He had never spoken to him before.

Now was a better time than never. He had learned the value of alliances and knowing others in the arena.

"I have seen you in the arena," he said. Conversation was...a little awkward. "You do well."

[aintyourdad]

It's probably a good thing that Joel has met some pretty crazy-ass-looking individuals here already, and that he has actually seen a fair amount of arena footage. At least enough that it's not a total shock when some green, amphibian-looking guy approaches him and starts to make conversation.

At least, he doesn't react with what the hell are you supposed to be? He's learned better by now. Apparently, some people think that's rude.

"If I was good, I'd still be in there," he points out with a shrug. In there with Ellie, he doesn't add aloud, but it hangs there in the air. If this guy has seen footage of him, then he's also seen her.

[dying]

Thane would, probably, know it is rude but not speak on it. Humans and aliens had a rocky history, so while his experience with humans was generally positive, it wasn't always going to be the case. He knew better than to think anything of it when it did happen.

"This place tells very little about your actual skill," Thane answered quickly. He knew it to be true. He watched Joel for a moment. He had seen Ellie, he had met her, too. Their conversation didn't go well, by his recollection (flawless, as it were). "It only tells you who has the luck while playing the game."

[aintyourdad]

That gets a humorless laugh from Joel. Because, frankly, he's said exactly that on numerous occasions, and not just here, either. Luck. Yeah. It's mostly luck, in his experience, too. Back home was the same.

"They like to keep things interesting, that's for sure," he says lightly. It's not enough simply to throw people into an arena to kill each other. They have to do all kinds of crazy shit to spice things up. After so long, it's no wonder. Even a blood bath gets kind of old after a while. Loses that exciting edge. Joel knows all about becoming desensitized to violence.

"I'm Joel," he finally adds, not sure if he should offer his hand to shake. In his world, he wouldn't, though a lot of the people here seem to be enamored of the custom. This guy, though, who the hell even knows. So he keeps his hands at his sides. "You run with Shepard some, don't you?"

2

[reallynow]

[When Jolie emerges from his work room, it's not after a full night's sleep, it's after a round the clock work session. He'd seen the broadcast and the outlash and he'd wanted to say so much more than he did, but he couldn't. Better to just bury yourself into your work than step into that line of fire, and that's what he's been doing.

It's a rare appearance with out all the wigs, make up and glamor. It's not Jolie this time, it's Trey. The moment he lays eyes on Joel in the kitchen, he's forcing a big, bright smile.. That lasts for about five seconds.]

Hi stranger. [He breezes past to the fridge.] Someone's hungry. [There's a non verbal, lingering look of concern but Trey isn't sure how to verbalise any sentiment.]

[aintyourdad]

[ Jolie - in or out of costume - is a pretty normal sight around the D8 suite. Joel glances up at him from the stove where he's scrambling eggs and raises his eyebrows.

The smile is normal, it's the look of exhaustion that's new. ]

You look like hell. [ Joel: King of Tact. ]

[reallynow]

I like it when we match. [He crinkles his nose, pretending as if he isn't utterly miffed with that comment. Joel is always blunt, it's why he's secretly one of Trey's favourites.]

You made it a damn long time, I'm almost proud of you. Almost. [He opens the fridge for a moment but closes it soon after without taking anything out so he can lean against the door.] Miss me?

4

[frozenfractalsallaround]

When the ding of the bell goes off above the door of the coffee shop and Elsa looks up to see Joel, it's deja vu. It seems like so very long ago that she chased him into this very coffee shop to buy him a coffee after his kindness in her first arena. A lot has happened since then- a lot has happened recently, for that matter.

She's tired, and not in the best of moods. She knows she needs to apologize for what she did on the network, but it's scary to her so she's trying to work herself up enough to do it, so she's spending a day in the Capitol doing things that make her happy and one of those is having a coffee and croissant in her favorite coffee place.

Her face lights up when she sees Joel, though. It's been a long time, it feels, that she's seen him. She's sad she didn't get to see him in the arena, so she's suddenly looking forward to catching up with him. She lifts her hand up high, giving him a wave from where she's sitting. "Joel!" she calls out, hoping he can hear her over the chatter of the coffee shop.

[aintyourdad]

This arena was terrible for Joel, too - it probably shows in the lingering tiredness around his eyes, the darkness of his expression, the scowl threatening to turn his mouth downward. The news he's gotten since he got back from it hasn't made things any better, for that matter. A pandemic, only just controlled. Some guy stupid enough to try and break the Capitol's barrier around the arena avoxed, and an entire district blown off the map.

The familiar voice gets his attention - he's got good hearing, almost preternaturally so, especially for a man his age. He gives Elsa a nod, and goes to get his coffee - as usual, strong and black - before joining her at the table.

He's glad, personally, that he never ran into her this arena.

"Hey," he says by way of greeting. "You been back long?"

[frozenfractalsallaround]

Elsa can tell, when he joins her at the table, that he's tired. Boy, does she know that feeling. She frowns slightly at the state of him, wishing she could make things better- but that's how she's been feeling a lot lately. Wishing she could take people's suffering away, but being unable to do so.

She slides one of her croissants closer to him quietly, in case he's hungry.

"A fairly long while, yes," she says with a nod. "In a way, I almost miss the arena." At least in the arena, all you had to worry about was dying. Here, it seems like there's so much worse that could happen to you. "But at least the coffee is still good, that's a plus."

3!

[seestheman]

For once, Clara isn't attempting to figure out how to fight. Instead, she's tucked away at the firemaking station, trying to figure out how to start a fire with some rocks and dried grass. For all the times she went camping as a kid and a few years as a girl scout, she never learned how to start a fire without some matches or a lighter. She never had to, after all. In the woods, there were cheats and at home they never had to build a fire. It was Detroit, they had heat and electricity.

She finally manages to get a spark that makes the grass smolder and then...nothing, except for an exasperated cry mixed with her yelling "Light you stupid thing!"

[aintyourdad]

It's almost habit by now, when he sees someone at one of the survival stations, for Joel to approach. He's no Mentor, hell he doesn't even consider himself a teacher of any kind. But something always niggles at the back of his mind when he sees someone struggling to do basic things like starting a fire.

He has a lot of skills that others just don't have, after so long living in his world. It does him no harm to help someone out once in a while.

"It's a lot tougher than it looks in the movies," Joel says by way of greeting. "If you don't have flint and steel, or a magnifying glass, then you need a lot of patience and elbow grease."

Without so much as a by-your-leave, he crouches down next to the woman - a new face, he hasn't seen her around much at all - and starts gathering things together - a couple pieces of wood, some dried brush and more grass.

[seestheman]

"Of course Hollywood couldn't get this one right," Clara retorts, partly out of frustration with her inability to light a goddamn fire without help and partly to come off as more playful so as to hide that frustration.

She shuffles aside slightly to give him a little bit more space, watching carefully before she wastes anymore wood. "So just how much patience do you recommend?" It's small talk, but it's something. She doesn't exactly know what lumberjack looking dudes like to talk about while they build fires using the old school method.