Dr Dennett Norton (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
biomechatronic) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2014-07-01 10:05 pm
biomechatronic) wrote in thecapitol2014-07-01 10:05 pm
Entry tags:
[open]
Who: Dennett Norton and OPEN
What: Unhappy nerd exploring the Capitol after his first inauspicious Arena death
Where: Mostly District 1
When: Nowish
Warnings: none I can think of.
Dennett had thought that the last week back home had been the worst week of his life: he'd testified before Congress, and had gone from a private citizen to the target of a firestorm of controversy. Controversy he fully deserved. He'd told himself, when it happened, 'nine days' wonder'--that they would move on to something else, some new scandal, some new controversy. It hadn't been nine days so he didn't know if that was true. Instead he'd woken up here, thrown into some gladiatorial death match...thing. And now here, in a place that looks like it should be hosting a chess competition. Or an old tuberculosis sanatorium. It was so far removed from the brutality of the Arena that it hurt his head to try to think about it.
1
The boardwalk shops cast garish light through the gathering evening, filled with trinkets like souvenirs, everything but shells with googly eyes glued to them. Who would want souvenirs of this place? And did that mean he could go somewhere else, like home?
He was pondering that latter as he turned off the boardwalk, up the road that led to the hotel(?) where he was staying, when a snowball smacked into the back of his head, followed by fast footsteps pounding into the shadows. And Dennett is not going to take this anymore: he runs--as fast as his middle-aged softness will let him--following the sound. "Come back here!"
2
He's never been a fan of rumors, but after meeting Clara--painfully--he'd kept his ears open. Alex was here. That was beyond doubt. Which was bad enough, but the other rumors were even worse. And he didn't want confirmation but, well, he'd run away before. And he owed Alex, whether Alex knew it or not.
He talks to anyone who makes eye contact, and even a few who assiduously try not to. This is important: comfort zone be damned.
"Yes. Please. Alex Murphy. He's...quite tall. Have you heard anything, please? Where I could find him?" He just hopes Alex doesn't slap him, too, when he finds him.
3
He's at the training area, but he's not training. This isn't him. He can't do this. He doesn't even know what half this stuff is for! But still, they seem to expect him to 'train', and he doesn't need psychic powers to deduce they were disappointed with his 'performance'. So he's here, but he's watching, instead, looking about as lost and uncomfortable as you could imagine. "I..there has to be another way.".
What: Unhappy nerd exploring the Capitol after his first inauspicious Arena death
Where: Mostly District 1
When: Nowish
Warnings: none I can think of.
Dennett had thought that the last week back home had been the worst week of his life: he'd testified before Congress, and had gone from a private citizen to the target of a firestorm of controversy. Controversy he fully deserved. He'd told himself, when it happened, 'nine days' wonder'--that they would move on to something else, some new scandal, some new controversy. It hadn't been nine days so he didn't know if that was true. Instead he'd woken up here, thrown into some gladiatorial death match...thing. And now here, in a place that looks like it should be hosting a chess competition. Or an old tuberculosis sanatorium. It was so far removed from the brutality of the Arena that it hurt his head to try to think about it.
1
The boardwalk shops cast garish light through the gathering evening, filled with trinkets like souvenirs, everything but shells with googly eyes glued to them. Who would want souvenirs of this place? And did that mean he could go somewhere else, like home?
He was pondering that latter as he turned off the boardwalk, up the road that led to the hotel(?) where he was staying, when a snowball smacked into the back of his head, followed by fast footsteps pounding into the shadows. And Dennett is not going to take this anymore: he runs--as fast as his middle-aged softness will let him--following the sound. "Come back here!"
2
He's never been a fan of rumors, but after meeting Clara--painfully--he'd kept his ears open. Alex was here. That was beyond doubt. Which was bad enough, but the other rumors were even worse. And he didn't want confirmation but, well, he'd run away before. And he owed Alex, whether Alex knew it or not.
He talks to anyone who makes eye contact, and even a few who assiduously try not to. This is important: comfort zone be damned.
"Yes. Please. Alex Murphy. He's...quite tall. Have you heard anything, please? Where I could find him?" He just hopes Alex doesn't slap him, too, when he finds him.
3
He's at the training area, but he's not training. This isn't him. He can't do this. He doesn't even know what half this stuff is for! But still, they seem to expect him to 'train', and he doesn't need psychic powers to deduce they were disappointed with his 'performance'. So he's here, but he's watching, instead, looking about as lost and uncomfortable as you could imagine. "I..there has to be another way.".
no subject
"I would say 'nice to meet you, Joel', but it doesn't seem like the place." Nice to meet you hope we don't have to try to kill each other?
"So, right. Like Boy Scouts, or something." He's trying to find a frame where this doesn't seem quite as horrid as it is.
no subject
Why does he do this to himself?
no subject
"Oh. Yes, of course. I've taken so much of your time, Joel. It's been, well, nice to meet you?" It still sounded weird.
no subject