thecapitol | Children are resilient [closed]

Entry tags:

Children are resilient [closed]

Who| Clementine and Bruce Banner, Clementine and Jet, Clementine and Dave
What| Clem spends time with her friends after they get out of the arena
Where| Numerous locations
When| Through week 3/4
Warnings/Notes| Possible depressing conversations but also cute stuff!

Waking up like this again... at least it had been quicker, at least this time she had a previous experience to go on.

Clementine doesn't cry now, though she feels queasy as she sits up from the bed and resists the urge to retch -- not that it would do any good, her stomach is completely empty of anything to throw up. After a few minutes of sitting and letting herself settle though she feels marginally better, enough to get up, change her clothes (of course putting her hat back where it belongs on her head) and contemplate going out to face the Capitol.

She's trying very hard not to think about the minutes leading up to her 'death', not even to consider it now. It feels like she's fighting a losing battle though, trying so hard not to be resentful or angry and failing.

Clementine knows that if she stays inside it'll be worse, the tribute centre and the Capitol will be a better distraction than sitting and brooding in her room.

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It's her first day back and it's just as surreal as it was the first time. Clementine walks out of her room and the D6 suite to the elevator at the end of the corridor like nothing had happened the past month, going inside and hitting the button for the common floor with the intention on getting some food down there rather than in the suite.

She can't believe how hungry she is to say she felt like throwing up not long ago. Death gives her an appetite, which is a really strange thing. Maybe it's just a need to do something normal, everyday, to forget about the arena with mundane routine.

Edited 2014-09-18 18:55 (UTC)

A couple days back and with a lot of her friends still in the arena Clementine's starting to get stuck on how to pass the time. Sure, there's places she can go, things she can watch or play but it's not really the same without her friends.

She laid on one of the couches in the commons, trying to ingnore the televisions that are all playing scenes from the still ongoing arena when she spots Jet. Instantly she sits up, remembering meeting Albert a few days before she died and what he'd told her about him... "Jet!" she calls, sitting up and giving him a wave.

Dave's out. That's all she needs to know before after a small grace period of a couple she's bounding up to District 9 to see him. Well bounding is not exactly the word but she's definitely quick about scampering up there, she knows how Dave died, watched it despite herself and saw his post on the network.

She knows Dave was there when she died too, his voice being one of the last things she heard before it all went black. Knowing that... she feels horrible that he saw it, that she went down that way in front of him because of -- no, she's trying not to think about that. Clementine just wants to see him and give him a hug despite how put out he might try to act about it.

District 9 is more than familiar to Clementine now, it's as much a second home to her as any place so she had no hesitation in pushing open the door and going right inside the main living space.

Edited 2014-09-18 18:56 (UTC)

He'd only woken up yesterday and he'd spent the whole thing just about anywhere Jet's legs had taken him, just needing to go out and use the eyes he was very grateful to have back. The only time he'd come back had been at night when he'd moved his stuff from his room to Albert's room in the D3 suite.

There was no way he was going to stay on his floor when the damn guy who'd blinded him slept a few doors down. It had less to do with him being worried that Nasir would attack him outside of the arena and more that Jet couldn't promise he wouldn't attack the other man himself. He was still just a little pissed at everything that had happened because of the Syrian's actions.

However, today he was less in a rush to go everywhere, resulting in an uncharacteristically late start to his day. He'd been headed through the commons, no destination in mind, when the sound of his name made him pause and a smile spread across his face when he spotted Clementine waving to him. He waved back before heading over to where the girl sat and plopped himself down next to her.

"Yo. Guess we both got the axe, huh? How're you doing?"

With the lack of faces being projected into the sky, it was harder to know when people died...not that he would have been able to see hers even if they had, but clearly they'd gone around the same time. It sucked, he wanted her to win--actually win and have that win honored, not have the damn capitol rip the rug out from under her like before--he just hoped however it had happened, it hadn't been too bad.

Whether it was or not, the day's 'plans' fled his mind; checking up on his young friend's mental state was a lot more important.

Bruce is doing his best to not drink. He drank the first night he was back in the Capitol. He doesn't like what he turns into when he drinks.

But oh, is it tempting.

Instead, he sits in the corner of the common area (he doesn't want to be in his District, it's too quiet) with an open book in his lap. It's a history book of Panem, detailing the Dark Days and the birth of the Hunger Games.

When he hears the ding of the elevator, he flinches, instinctively looking up and tensing as though someone would come out with a gun.

But no. It's worse.

"Clementine?"

For a while, Dave had been meaning to find Clem. He'd been thinking about it since he arrived, but between seeing his stylist, the new doctor, the new escort and getting that schmoozy post up, his mind has been occupied. Hell, it's still pretty damn occupied. All full of thinky thoughts he doesn't want to be having. Maybe it was good that he kicked it when he did, there was a lot of emotional baggage to carry toward the end of it. Now he can indulge himself and worry relentlessly about his friends instead of himself, at least.

When she lets herself into the main living space, he's on the couch starting calculatingly at an empty glass while touching the sides of his head. It feels weird, but it's starting to become a funny little habit already. He perks up at the sound of someone entering, turning with his hands still on the sides of his head.

"Who said you could come in here? C'mere you little shit." He stands, crossing toward Clem and moving to slip his arms under hers to hoist her up with a surprising amount of ease for someone who looks as lithe as he is. She weighs less than Karkat, though, so it's not hard. "Oh my god you weigh so much I'm dying." He exaggerates, pointedly wobbling to freak her out.

She hears her name and looks to the source, her eyes widening. "Bruce..."

That's all it takes before she's striding over to where he's sat, quickly and on the verge of running, glad to find a friend here. Knowing who had died and who was still alive hadn't been so simple this arena without the face lighting up the sky at night. She knew about the mannequins in the department store but had never found it easy to look at them.

"Hey." Clementine says when she gets in front of him. "It's good to see you."

Despite what she's just been through and what he must have been through too it's heartfelt. Bruce was probably the best new friend she'd made the last few weeks.

"That's one way to put it."

A very accurate way and she appreciates the lack of sugarcoating. It's one of the reasons she likes Jet in general.

Clementine sucks in a breath and let's it roll out slowly, hiking her thin shoulders up in a light shrug. "I'm okay, it's actually not so bad the second time." and it's not really lying when she says it. Still bad, but not as bad. "How are you? I met Albert last week, he told me what happened."

Hopefully bringing it up was okay, she just wanted to make sure.

"I thought I lived here." she starts to retort immediately, trying to suck up the instant burst of emotions that threaten to rise up the moment she see's Dave and hears his voice. Her throat might be a little tight as he lifts her up to Clementine's surprise and startles a laugh out of her because it's just so unexpected.

"Don't you drop me!" Clem orders him, her arms going around his neck because he walked into that one and squeezing tight. She knows he's kidding around, especially since dying took her right back to weighing even less than she had in the arena after weeks of building up the weight on regular meals.

The reset thing really blows, she'll never get any bigger at this rate.

His wobbling act has her smiling, "Don't hurt yourself."

"It's good to see you, too." He just wishes that it didn't mean that she had just been killed.

He wants to ask how it happened. If someone did it. If there's someone to punish.

But he doesn't.

Instead, he reaches out as she comes to him, resting one hand on her shoulder and leaning so their eyes are level, as if that could assure him that she is real and okay. She isn't okay. He isn't either. "When did you get back?"

Clementine feels better as his hand comes onto her shoulder, reassured by the touch and by the way he leans down, putting them on the same level. It's something she values in the adults around her, the important ones.

It's nice to be touched in a comforting way when she needs it, without prying questions, just someone reaching out to her.

"This morning." she says. She guesses it's been maybe a day since she died if it's the same as last time. "How long have you been here?"

"Not very long. A few days. I got here very late last week."

He still remembers the look on Belle's face when she realized what happened. On Tony's face when he realized what was going to happen. He pushes it from his mind, because that doesn't matter now. After all, it's not the first time he's woken up after what should have been the last time he closed his eyes.

"Are you hungry? It's about time for lunch." They could eat together, maybe. And Bruce can gauge if she needs to be left alone or if she needs to be distracted.

"You thought wrrrooooonggggg." He growls the last word out like he's some pro-wrestler and not a skinny teen holding a skinny kid. He has a lot of feelings about seeing her again as well, ones he wants to bury under humor. He doesn't know how he got so close to her so quickly, but he definitely doesn't know what he'd do without her. It's nice to be around someone who likes to goof off and needs to just as much as he does.

"Hrgh- no. It's too much. Gravity is working against me. It's oppressing me." He groans, letting himself tip backwards toward the couch, acting for a moment as if he intends to strain against it before letting them both fall backward onto it with a thud. "Booyeah." He grunts, but he makes no movement to get up or roll her off him. "You literally broke all of my bones."

Edited 2014-09-20 15:36 (UTC)

He's not the only one surprised at how fast they've bonded. Clementine had been alone with just Christa for so long before coming here, keeping to themselves, staying wary of other survivors -- for good reason considering what had happened to Christa, Omid and others. keeping to themselves had been the sensible thing at home, here though everything had changed in just a few months.

"Oh no! What have I done?" Clementine says with grave seriousness, somehow managing to keep her expression stoic in this terrible moment. "Poor Lord Davemont, you'll have to lay on this couch forever."

Because she's not considering moving off him right now, reap what you sow, Dave.

There's no words to make better what happened to him, Clementine learned that after her first arena. It takes moving on, living, keeping going... a lot like getting by at home, to be honest, maybe that's why she's doing so okay. She's too used to how bad the world can be to let it break her.

"Yeah, actually, that's what I was thinking about coming down here." she tries a smile and finds it sits alright on her lips, "I think I could eat a whole chicken by myself."

That's what happens when you get set back to how you initially arrived in this world, at least in Clem's case thanks to a lack of steady meals before coming here.

"Then let's get something to eat."

He marks his page in the book before shutting it. He stands up, his joints cracking softly with the movement, and glances around the floor, eyeing the people milling around warily. He's not sure if she needs to be around people or if she would rather just be alone. He's not sure if he trusts this place enough to eat in an area just anyone could access, especially when they both have cuffs around their wrists. Call him paranoid, but his paranoia has kept him alive thus far.

"Do you want to eat upstairs? I'll make you something in District 3. I can show you how they cook in the countries I've visited, if you like."

His arm finds it's way across the back of the couch behind her, meant to be a subtle and unobtrusive form of comfort if that's what she wanted. Her assessment that it wasn't so bad the second time he nods in response. He felt the same. Even falling through the atmosphere back home a second time hadn't been as bad as the first because he'd accepted what he'd done and had thought of it as penance for letting everything get as screwed up as it had.

Not that it had stuck. The second death in this place had been pretty gruesome and still left him with nightmares, but at least he'd known he'd come back that time.

Her bringing up 'what had happened' made his thought process stutter. He shrugged nonchalantly, but his eyes kept ahead, avoiding hers. "M'fine. It's over, so it's not a big deal."

More like he still wasn't willing to face the things he'd started to think and feel while stuck in his own sightless mind and the thought of what that had been like made his throat tighten with terror. It was something he was more than willing to bury away along with the memories of Kevin eating him alive.

"Do you want to talk about anything that happened? Or would you rather hear my personal idea of good arena-medicine."

"Something awful. I mean, beyond property invasion. That shit is serious too." He matches her tone, mostly, he can't hide the sarcastic lilt in his tone.

"Oh no, what am I gonna do? Shit. Life just got so much harder. I just.. Like.." And then he's going to yawn as hard as he can, letting a hand flop onto her back. Clearly he's very put out. "If you're going to sit there forever you should get up and get me a drink, though." And then as an afterthought. "Indubitably."

"You can cook?"

There's definite interest there. Clementine herself can't cook at all, never much opportunity to learn and most of what they ate back in her world just needed to be heated through (she thinks she's eaten just about canned everything by now) if you could find the means to heat it at all. After a while you stopped really tasting anything and it just became the means of keeping going a little bit longer.

"That sounds better than the restaurant."

"I probably need to go to jail a lot then, I've broken into loads of houses before." Though did it count when the owners were dead or shambling about and there was no government police force to do any arresting? Probably not. Still it sounds cool to say in this moment, adding to the little play scenario they've got going on.

Clementine pokes his sunglasses while he talks, "Sitting here forever means I don't get up for anything, duh." but then she made a show of thinking about it, "Though... if there's soda..."

As far as Clementine is concerned the death itself is the least worst part. This time she hadn't been able to turn into a Walker, she hadn't been able to bite anybody. It had been quick, a moment of pained pressure and... then she woke up.

Pruna pulling Sandy away and leaving Clementine to the roombas, that was the worst part. It made her think of Ben for a moment... Ben running away and leaving her because he was scared of the Walkers, for his own life... Pruna had been scared for Sandy, she thinks.

Reasoning with herself about it doesn't make it sit any better with her though.

"Okay." she says to Jet's gentle rebuff on the topic, she knows better than to pursue that. "I think I'd rather hear your idea about arena medicine." she decides after a moment.

"Yeah. I've been cooking myself since I moved out of my parents' house." He gestures for her to follow him to the elevator, tucking his book under his arm. "And when I left the United States, a lot of people took me in and taught me what they knew about it, or they'd give me family recipes in exchange for medical help."

He presses the button for the elevator. "You'd be surprised what people are ready to barter for medicine. Have you ever had Bolivian food?"

"You travelled a lot? What countries have you been too?" Clementine walked at his side, face lifted to look at him as they headed into the elevator. "I never got to go to another country." she remembered vacations in other states but never actually going out of the country, much to her disappointment.

She smiles, "I never heard of anyone trading recipes for it before." Medicine was a whole lot more valuable than that she thought. "No, never have."

"I've traveled mostly on foot, so down through Central America and most of South America. Then I went back to the US briefly before going to Northern Africa."

The elevator opens up and he guides her in before pressing the button for District 3.

"Then I walked through the Middle East to South Asia, and I got all the way to West Bengal. So if you want food from any of those countries, I could probably make it." He gives her a little wink. "Bolivian is pretty good, though."

The elevator slides open again and he walks out slowly. "People will trade all kinds of things for medical help. Possessions, services, information... anything they can offer." He once had one guy offer to let him marry his daughter, but he had respectfully declined and he doesn't think that's a very appropriate story to tell to a little girl.

"That's a lot of places." Clementine responds, clearly impressed. "Asia's the other side of the world, isn't it? When it's night in America it's day there." she remembers some things from beginners geography clearly.

She grins up at him, "Bolivian sounds good to me." she has no idea what Bolivian food is like but again she trusts Bruce to know what he's doing and come up with something tasty for the two of them.

"It's usually food, or bullets back home." Ammunition was becoming an increasingly rare commodity, just as valuable as medicine. Of course that's when people didn't just try to take it without trading.

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Children are resilient [closed]

For Bruce

For Jet

For Dave

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