[open] CATCH ALL

[reallynow]

Who| ALL Y'ALL it's a ho down
What| A catch-all reaction log for the plot developments. Saves you from making 5 logs each tbh.
Where| All around the place
When| During and post lock down, 3am~ sunday onward
WARNINGS| Panicking, talk of murder and violence. Singing the songs of panem.

When things like THIS and THIS are going down it's probably a good time to touch base with one another. Face caressing, crying and meaningful stares abound as the Tributes and Staff drag their knuckles hopelessly in an effort to figure out what the fresh hell is going on.

Make your own prompts, feel free to make them closed to specific people.

Comments

[silberfuchs]

"Too long," he responds dourly, taking the other man's advice and carefully pressing the cloth just right of the bridge of his nose, having to grit his teeth. Maybe it's a little more than superficial, but he's not about to announce that to someone he hardly knows. "A little over six months."

He's quiet for another moment, taking the towel away to see if there's blood there too and then replacing it, mollified that the butt of the rifle that had connected with his face hadn't broken the skin. "I'm Heinrich, Albert Heinrich. What should I call you?"

[honeyibrokeharlem]

"Six months?" That was unnerving, that they had had people for six months. "Just how long have they been grabbing off-worlders to play gladiator?"

Bruce rested his back against a counter, instinctively in a position where all exits were in view. He crossed his arms, as if that would protect him from all the awfulness that was unfolding around them. "I'm Bruce Banner. You can call me Bruce, Banner, Dr. Banner--whatever you like." There was once a time he would have gotten snippy if a stranger called him anything other than Dr. Banner, but his priorities had significantly shifted since then.

[silberfuchs]

"Some have been here longer." No use in lying to the man. Albert sighs and adjusts his makeshift ice pack.

"I'm not sure for how long. Years, possibly. And this is the mild sort of punishment for dissent." He indicates his bruised up face. "But it's not entirely hopeless."

He just can't talk about that openly when the Capitol's eyes and ears are everywhere. "Doctor of what, if I may ask?"

[honeyibrokeharlem]

"I'm a doctor of theoretical physics."

He decides not to pry more about the 'dissent' and 'not entirely hopeless' comments. It didn't take a paranoid genius to know that everything was probably being recorded right now.

"But I've been providing people with medical care for the better part of a decade now. I'm not a licensed medical doctor, but I can work in pinch." More than just that. He has a lot of experience dealing with a variety of diseases and wounds; just don't ask him to deal with specialist things like neurology or oncology.

[silberfuchs]

"Interesting." It really is, even if Albert's tone sounds more like he's humoring Bruce. Forgive him, his face is throbbing.

"Field medicine is going to be very helpful to you here, as you might imagine. Theoretical physics not so much." A sigh escapes him and he adjusts his ice pack, wincing unhappily. He's in much the same boat with his passion being useless but his life experience keeping him alive. There's not much call for writing music when you're in a death match something like once a month, but a lifetime of fighting will certainly give you an edge.