thecapitol | Hell hath no fury like an 11 year old

Entry tags:

Hell hath no fury like an 11 year old

Who| Clementine and Dave, Clementine and OTA
What| Clementine finds out she's not a victor
Where| the District 6 suite
When| A few days after the Ship mini-arena
Warnings/Notes|

[Open in D6]

[The anger is palpable in Clementine's small frame. All the relief of winning the mini-arena has turned to ashes in her mouth with the revelation that neither she nor any of the other winners are Victors. They won't get to be mentors, they won't get out of the next arena. They're going to have to do it all over again after all.

Sure, she's going to get some kind of special care package in the next arena, whatever that means (and she's curious, she is, just she's so furious right now) as well as immunity but...

They didn't warn them before, they let them all believe they were safe from having to die over and over again for days, they let them believe they had a chance of escape when they were fighting for survival on board that ship.

It's amazing the new depths the Capitol can sink to.

Clementine drops the gift basket on the coffee table in the middle of the District 6 suite. She barely wants any of what's inside, better to let her district mates enjoy what's in it if they can. Especially the champagne, because really? It just shows how little concern these people have for them that they put that in her basket.]

[Closed to Dave]

[It shouldn't have been so hard for the two of them to run into each other, they were to and fro in each others Districts often enough after all. But Clementine and Dave seemed to have managed to keep passing each other by like two ships in the night (and that analogy is not a fun one right now) so far.

The memory of what happened to him is probably the worst one she carries of that day. She can't help thinking that if only she'd been stronger, if only she could have pulled herself up, if she could've just...

There had been six winners, six, and as awful as it is she wishes more of them had been her friends. Even though they didn't get to be Victors this time round it would have at least spared them the horror of dying again.

So when she opens the door out of the suite and Dave's right there she's momentarily frozen in place.]

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"Don't beat yourself up too much, kid." He gives her shoulder a playful shove, just barely smiling. This is the part where he would say she's as good if not better than Steve if he were actually sentimental.

"Right, well. Time for me to swoon." He presses the back of his hand to his forehead and braces against whatever is behind him. And then he stands up like nothing happened. "You gon' get changed, because I have like half a million suits that deserve the opportunity to go somewhere nice."

"It's okay, I have time for improvement, I'm still young." Clementine reaches out and shoves him back, though not as effectively as Dave did to her. Maybe with all this Capitol food she'll get a growth spurt sometime soon.

Though thinking about the way the dog bite scar had turned pink and fresh again when she woke up from dying... Clem doesn't let that thought continue. They have plans now after all.

"I think I can find something to wear, no yellow though."

"Got it. No yellow, no purple. I'll meet you back here when I pick something, aight?"

So he disappears for a while, returning eventually in a suit that looks like it has been fashioned entirely out of decorative rugs. He still has the shades, just for that touch of class. As soon as he steps back into Six, he's going to call out for Clem.

"Oh Lady Clemingtoooon." Such date, very romance. Right?

Edited 2014-08-07 12:04 (UTC)

Clementine roots through her overwhelming wardrobe and finally comes up with a cute but not overly frilly dress in the nice shade of pink that she prefers. Zombie apocalypse or not, some things stuck with you. She brushes and re-ties her hair and then tops off the rest of her elegant appearance by, of course, putting on her hat once more.

"Coming Lord Davemont!" she says, sniggering and then when she comes out of her room actually can't laugh because Dave's suit is just so stunningly perfect that her voice fails her for a moment.

Finally she manages to speak, with a slight wheeze, "I like your suit."

There's a weird little feeling in Dave's head when she shows up. He can't help but think she's cute, really goddamn cute. He'd never had a little sibling of his own, just a big Broling, so feeling fiercely platonic in a familial way about someone is strange for him when they aren't Rose. Still, it makes him all the more eager to make this night absolutely hilarious, by god is he going to erase all those shitty memories.

He dusts off the lapel of his jacket and adjusts it as if he's so snobby he needs to look perfect.

"Mmyes, I thought you might like it." He forces that upper class voice and bends his arm out, offering to loop arms snootily. "Shall we be on our way then, mmyesss?"

"I really, really do. It suits you." Anyone else probably wouldn't be able to make that work, there's actually an argument that Dave doesn't but Clementine decides that it's just so him to wear something like that that it counts. She slips her thin arm around his like she's seen people do in the movies.

"Mmmyes, I think so. Can't be late!" Not that they actually made a reservation, that can count on the first way they're going to make the restaurant suffer.

"Heh, suit." He can't help pointing out that pun when she takes his arm, giving it a gentlemanly pat before he starts to stride toward the elevator and takes it down to the bottom floor.

He pulls the certificate out of his jacket when they start to walk out of the building, giving it an appraising look before glancing at Clem and breaking character.

"We gonna take a cab or walk there? Because my heart says exercise but my legs say sit your ass down."

"I think the advice is supposed to be always listen to your heart but I've done enough walking for a lifetime already, I'm good to take a cab." Plus there's the minor fact she has no idea where this restaurant is or how to get there and getting lost in the city for several hours, while it might work up an appetite, would spoil the fun.

Clementine squints at the passing traffic. "How do you do that?" Guess who never took a cab before.

"I like the way you think." He nods agreeably at her, equally disinterested in becoming lost in the twists and turns of fancy fuckery that is the Capitol. "Uh.." That is the sound of experience, right there. He barely even knows what Capitol cabs look like, but he's seen enough movies to know that standing out on the street and waving an arm usually summons one. A gaudy outfit like his doesn't stand out much in the Capitol, but it gets attention soon enough.

"M'Clementine." He says, moving forward to open the door for her before slipping into the cab after her with about as much grace as a rubber chicken. He directs the driver, keeping the snobby accent in check like he isn't socially awkward, sitting back to give Clem a sneaky grin. "They better have caviar stuffed lobsters or we're wasting our time."

All in all Clementine is very impressed at his skill in acquiring them a carriage suitable for two of their standing. She hops into the taxi first and butt shuffles over to the side to make room for Dave and then is looking outside the window while the address is given, mostly to try and stops herself snickering loudly at the drivers expense but her smile when she looks back at Dave is conspiratorial.

"Lobster without caviar is criminal." she declares before more quietly leaning in to ask him, "What's caviar?"

It's funny how things went from miserable to fun in about twenty minutes. It's a relief more than anything. He hadn't been very close to Clem before, but it feels like they click well and travel in the same unfortunate circles enough to sort of fall into swing with each other. It's comforting, kind of probably what normal friends feel like.

"I'm sure they'll offer only the best for celebrity socialites such as ourselves." He chooses to ignore the way the driver furrows his brows. "Decadence. Pure decadence. Also, fish eggs." He nods leaning forward to pay when the cab finally stops only to be waved off. With a shrug he jumps out his side and sprints around to open the door for Clem. "Quickly now, gotta get those eggs while they're fresh and juicy."

There's much to be said for youth and its adaptability, especially in trying times.

"Are you kidding? Fish eggs?" Clementine says, breaking character momentarily. That sounds so gross! Why would anyone do that? Why would anyone even think to try that in the first place? Then she remembers she's supposed to be in character, "Er, right! We must."

She hops out of the taxi and stares up at the front of the restaurant. It's really fancy looking. "Hope there's not a line."

"Would I lie to you, Cleminem? They put 'em in sushi and stuff, you know. Japanese food. It's all full of fishy goodness. You know tuna makes your brain work better? Fascinating. Never touch the stuff."

He rambles on as they step toward the restaurant, letting out a low whistle before stepping ahead of her to open the door for her like the gentleman he is. "A line for one of the benevolent victors of the most recent Arenas?" He makes sure to raise his voice at the last part of the sentence before he strides ahead, brandishing the certificate like it's a police badge. Of course, doing so ensures good service, with all the Capitol simpering and gushing about their precious friendship and how brave Clementine is and how selfless Dave is and blah. Blah. Blaaah.

However, a table is set aside for them so Dave can wave them off airily and they're given a moment to peruse the menus alone. Finally. Dave pulls up his menu so he can tilt his head down to give her a deadpan stare before tilting his head back up to point at something familiar. "There. Caviar. We should get a bucket of it and rub it on our faces, so good for the skin, you know."

"Do you think they taste like chicken eggs?" before she'd come to the Capitol it had been so long since she'd last gotten to taste eggs.

Clementine walks beside him, listening appreciatively and letting out an occasional helpless giggle at Dave's professional level antics. She tries to look calm and cool, lifting her chin at the simpering and sticking her tongue out at the servers when their backs are turned.

The menu has a lot of very fancy sounding dishes on it and a lot of words she's not sure of but when she looks over at Dave she's grinning, daring. "We have to, it'd be insulting if we didn't."

Dave just scrunches his mouth at the question, both because he doesn't have an answer and because the idea of them tasting like chicken eggs seems strange. Clem, you're weird.

It's hard to roll with it, but when Dave lets himself get lost in the parody it's easier to stop feeling shy about it. He hardly cares what these assholes think about him, so he isn't exactly adhering to any standards.

"Maybe we can do that with our after dinner mints." He suggests, straightening as a waiter approaches. "Mmyes an apple juice for the gentleman and.." Uh. "And for the lady, thank you. We shall wave you over when we are ready to bathe in decadence. Carry on." He waves the waiter off with their drink order and sets his menu down so he can drag a skinny finger down the selections. "I can't seem to find the word for 'burger' or 'pizza'."

Hey, it's the only kind of eggs she actually has experience with eating. Eggs are eggs, probably. Maybe not, she has limited knowledge to go on here. Clementine's trying at least and that's what's important as the saying goes.

The same with the act altogether, it's not what she's used to engaging in but it's fun with Dave and it's definitely taking their minds off what they just went through.

"I can seem to find a word of English." Clementine says, turning the menu upside down as if it will make more sense that way. "Cheese flat bread?"

It's cathartic, that's for sure. The fall he took in the arena is the furthest thing from his mind and he's pretty damn glad he can look at Clem without remembering the look she gave him for doing it. No bad thoughts, only eggs

"That is offensive to me, I am offended by it." The deadpan is really convincing there, Dave. The waiter returns with their drinks and sets them down, looking expectant for an order and, despite some delay, Dave thinks fast.

"Yes, my good man, I would like something almost entirely composed of meat and cheese, if you please." His lip quirks at the accidental rhyme. "The lady will have something incredibly delicious, ground-breakingly good. I want it to be so delicious that it changes her life and perception of food forever." He glances toward Clem at the order and back to the waiter who just looks confused. "Oh and don't skimp on the garlic bread and those dinner rolls with the butter. Yeah? Good man."

He waves him off again before focusing entirely on Clem. "I'm so hungry my stomach is eating itself. It's so trite. Cliche. Gauche." Snobby words.

Clementine giggles when he says that, eyes peering at Dave over the top of her menu. "Just what he said." she agreed to Dave's order, she's curious to see what these fancy Capitol restaurant people would consider that to be. "Mmm garlic bread."

That's her thought process for the next thirty seconds before she realises Dave's talking again. Will she ever get over being able to enjoy fresh baked goods after two years without? Probably not. If it weren't for the arenas Clementine would probably have put some good weight on her bones by now.

"Me too, I'm starving. I could eat an entire chicken."

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Hell hath no fury like an 11 year old

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