"K" (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
kontingency) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2013-02-16 01:23 am
kontingency) wrote in thecapitol2013-02-16 01:23 am
Entry tags:
things that are perhaps not entirely-- oh, k...[OPEN] [BACKDATED]
Who| K and you.
What| K is exploring the Capitol, out of curiousity about what it's like - he's fascinated. And, perhaps, not looking where he's going.
Where| Pretty much everywhere; he's just spending his day walking around and looking at everything.
When| Backdated to K's return to the Capitol after his death. (February 12th)
Warnings/Notes| Unnaturally calm K? Also spoilers, of course. Also talk about death. And talk about neglect?
K had died before. It wasn't a new experience to him to be snuffed out - as much as it was, perhaps, expected. That freezing chill of death was something he'd experienced more then once, and it hadn't hurt as much as the first time.
This, perhaps, his mind theorized quietly, was because he didn't feel wounded on the inside as much as out, this time. He pushed the thought away slightly violently, in his mind - it was an uncomfortable thought. His contemplation hadn't shown on his calm face, and nor had his rejection - but it still got, perhaps, a sad swallow out of him.
He'd thought he'd stopped expecting things from his father. Perhaps he should have done his best to live up to that.
In any case, K had taken to merely dressing up in warm clothing - a dark blue sweater with no decor and jeans that were in no way thin enough to let him get cold. He could still feel the mild chill of dying there, on that glacier, and it disrupted his train of thought if he didn't properly attend to feeling warm. Regardless of that, however, he had decided to go out from the large rooms of the Tribute Suites that reminded him vaguely of home, and take his day and use it to explore everything in the Capitol. The world for him had always been closed off, always a metallic sheen of walls, somewhat low ceilings, and the glow of artificial lighting. Today was a day to get that curiosity out of his system - his curiosity with the snow had cost him, during the Arena.
He didn't particularly like that death chill. Or the idea of dying at all.
K could be found anywhere, his calm - perpetually, perhaps creepily so - face continuously surveying his surroundings as he looked about. He was recognizable as that one tribute who had chosen to spend some time toying with snow rather then looking for shelter and food - and died for it. And, given the calm fascination he seems to be taking with the city, it's not quite different here.
Although, K was not about to let himself be caught unprepared again simply because he was curious.
What| K is exploring the Capitol, out of curiousity about what it's like - he's fascinated. And, perhaps, not looking where he's going.
Where| Pretty much everywhere; he's just spending his day walking around and looking at everything.
When| Backdated to K's return to the Capitol after his death. (February 12th)
Warnings/Notes| Unnaturally calm K? Also spoilers, of course. Also talk about death. And talk about neglect?
K had died before. It wasn't a new experience to him to be snuffed out - as much as it was, perhaps, expected. That freezing chill of death was something he'd experienced more then once, and it hadn't hurt as much as the first time.
This, perhaps, his mind theorized quietly, was because he didn't feel wounded on the inside as much as out, this time. He pushed the thought away slightly violently, in his mind - it was an uncomfortable thought. His contemplation hadn't shown on his calm face, and nor had his rejection - but it still got, perhaps, a sad swallow out of him.
He'd thought he'd stopped expecting things from his father. Perhaps he should have done his best to live up to that.
In any case, K had taken to merely dressing up in warm clothing - a dark blue sweater with no decor and jeans that were in no way thin enough to let him get cold. He could still feel the mild chill of dying there, on that glacier, and it disrupted his train of thought if he didn't properly attend to feeling warm. Regardless of that, however, he had decided to go out from the large rooms of the Tribute Suites that reminded him vaguely of home, and take his day and use it to explore everything in the Capitol. The world for him had always been closed off, always a metallic sheen of walls, somewhat low ceilings, and the glow of artificial lighting. Today was a day to get that curiosity out of his system - his curiosity with the snow had cost him, during the Arena.
He didn't particularly like that death chill. Or the idea of dying at all.
K could be found anywhere, his calm - perpetually, perhaps creepily so - face continuously surveying his surroundings as he looked about. He was recognizable as that one tribute who had chosen to spend some time toying with snow rather then looking for shelter and food - and died for it. And, given the calm fascination he seems to be taking with the city, it's not quite different here.
Although, K was not about to let himself be caught unprepared again simply because he was curious.
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He's always been an untrusting, paranoid kid, but usually it doesn't show even before he opens his mouth. But he can't stay in his room. Alpha will find him there. So he has to go around the Capitol, doing his best to avoid onlookers and curious citizens. Some jackass comes and taps him on the back and Howard shrieks at him, bolts away and only looks back when he's so many blocks away that he'll never know if the stranger was trying to get his attention or actively antagonize him.
He can't go back to the suite and at the moment, he doesn't want to use the credits, what with three hundred dollars in 'kill money' on them. Nor does he want to go into a restaurant, crawling with people and probably with TV screens that will display his agonized last moments, writhing and screaming and crying in the snow. But hunger's tugging at his insides, so he has to eat, and he finds a dumpster behind a takeout restaurant and hops on in. There are some kind of garlic fries, some kind of fishsticks.
He hears footsteps and, after listening that they're going parallel to the dumpster and not coming towards him, pokes his head up. He sees a young man walking by - not with the bored expression of a Capitol citizen, looking for entertainment, but with the curiosity of a new Tribute. Howard doesn't know who he is, but the site of another tribute freezes him up, and he crouches down in the dumpster, hiding, hoping the crumpling sound of a styrofoam cup under his foot doesn't give him away.
howard more like koward
Even if the displays might have played up that Don did it out of panic a bit too much. But whatever.
K's footprints would stop, and then start again - however, this time, they're definitely perpendicular. Unless Howard peeks out again, K is going to give a polite - if not silly - knock to the side of the dumpster. "Ah... Hello?" He doubted it was an animal - not many would have the body weight to crush something like a styrofoam cup, and he really hasn't seen many around the Capitol anyway.
(K is still calm, appearing curious but slightly robotic, slightly detached from the situation. His voice fluctuates naturally, but it has a deadpan quality to it.)
you would be too if you were a ninety-pound torturebunny
He huddles down in the corner of the trash can, curls his legs up to his chest and swallows the piece of hamburger patty he had in his mouth. He could come up and say hi, although where would that lead? 'Please don't hurt me, I'm just a Tribute in a dumpster'?
"Go away." He finds a plastic knife in the trash. It's not a weapon, really, but it's comforting to hold onto something.
howard why are you holding a knife k could snap you like a twig
(He wouldn't remotely understand why you'd assume he'd hurt you in the first place, Howard.)
"Why?" Maybe that was a childish response, but K was not the king of being a mature adult yet.
So could most people /sobsob
He studies K's face, trying to discern if there's a threat there, or if K even recognizes him as another tribute. He can't tell; the face he's presented with isn't particularly expressive.
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Unless they were a turtle, and pushing them into a crevice was an option.
There's no threat in his expression, of course - Howard might even be able to identify that his expression simply says nothing other than the fact that he's calm. It was a quirk he'd picked up - his expression had never mattered, before, given his suit. Only his body language had. So his face kept that eerie calm (tinged only slightly with surprise) as he looked over the other, himself.
He doesn't even have any idea that Howard's a tribute. And, if he'd known that, perhaps he'd have chosen to even more expressively integrate himself with Howard. Having people who could betray you see you as an ally never did really go wrong.
"Ah, I see." He could either attack with the question that was just dodged, or go down a new line of questioning - perhaps both? The exact why didn't matter very much to K - he could run off or dodge the question again, for all K cared. He was just curious. His tone was still level and even - maybe a touch surprised, a touch curious... "And why do you say so? Or, alternatively, why are you sitting in a dumpster?"
This was obviously the most perfect way of talking to a frightened person. Everyone else, go home. K's got this.
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It's sobering, to really take stock of things. He knows he's jumpy and paranoid, but explaining the logic behind these things is hard. He bites his lip, chews his tongue. K doesn't look judgmental so much as curious, so Howard loses the hostility for a moment.
"It's too crowded in the restaurant. Figured I'd get the same deal in here with less people watching me." He shoves at what looks like a half-empty carton of chicken nuggets. "The food's just as good anyway, it's just cold."
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Howard's loss of hostility is noted, in K's brain. He understands the jumpiness and paranoia, and perhaps feeling crowded. K's never experienced that feeling until now - having grown up alone for most of his life, the clumps of people were mildly startling when he first saw them. (Although, by now, he thought they were pretty great.) In any case, he considers what the other says.
"I see..." He wasn't sure about that last sentiment. If it were only cold, then why didn't they just warm it up again? "That sounds like quite a waste of food, then. After all, just simply putting it in the garbage rather than warming and reselling it isn't the absolute most efficient they could be."
He was still only curious. But K was always critical. So apologies, Howard. (He was also from a scenario where he only ever ate rations. He doesn't understand expiration dates.)
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Howard's not looking for more allies, though. Not since the last one shoved a knife between his ribs and twisted it, then left him to bleed out in the snow. Just because someone's of like mind does not - emphatically, does not - mean that they're to be trusted.
"It is. It's totally a waste of food. So what I'm doing is a public service, honestly." He brushes some crumbs of something off his knees and tilts his head at K like a meerkat. "Who're you, anyway?"
The face looks familiar, and yet not. Almost as if Howard's seen those cheekbones and that nose before. It's perplexing.
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/sob I realize I messed up their/they're in an earlier tag
NO WORRIES i only hit people for that the second time they do it i mean what
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Witnessing his son's televised death, the Doctor did something he hadn't allowed himself to do in an eternity: he mourned. Behind closed doors, Sigma was not the uncaring parent Kyle had built him up to be. At once, his lack of human contact made him inadequate at dealing with his own grief: while Doctor had done well to bury it after the simulated mars mission failed, watching Kyle's murder after a display of such curiosity and innocence had been too much...
Sigma's sorrow had since turned to rage. Until Kyle's return Sigma was indifferent to the people around him, even occasionally abrasive. He wore a cold glare as he followed Kyle, roaming the streets, at a distance. Never a popular tribute, he manages to avoid public attention with a quick step and his head bowed. Sigma burned with hatred, an insatiable anger towards anyone who would harm his son. A loathing for the Capitol, for the Gamemakers, for Kyle's murderer, and for himself. It kept him constantly aware, it drew him forward. He would not waste his second chance. Now his son was alive, and he intended to keep it that way at all costs.
Finally unable to stand the gulf between them, Sigma ducks into an alley and rushes ahead. He would cut Kyle off, pretending as though he had happened upon the boy by accident. But Sigma does not travel quickly enough, and arrives at the mouth of the sidewalk just as Kyle is passing by.
Sigma opens his mouth to call to him. His breath catches, he cannot speak. Instead he stands ineffectually, numbly, hoping Kyle might stop.
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He was being cautious, of course - he paid attention to his surroundings, and he'd noticed Sigma once - twice - three times when the other hadn't thought he was looking. K - no, Kyle - had not once revealed his name to anyone - at the Nonary Game or here. Perhaps it had been known by the Gamemakers - but Sigma couldn't identify him as K, to begin with. At least, the 22 year old couldn't.
That was what mattered to K.
What mattered to K the absolute most was exactly who it was in his Father's body. The 22 year old, or the one he knew? He noticed the other duck into the alleyway - and when the other pops out, he doesn't appear surprised. He only takes a second to make his decision in terms of responding. He can't react until he knows who he's reacting to - otherwise, he might tell the 22 year old Sigma exactly who he is. And that option isn't one he likes as much as knowing for sure.
Kyle didn't stop. He continued walking, feigning that he hadn't noticed Sigma at all - it was an act, but a practiced one. He'd pulled the wool over his father's eyes before, doing things like that - surely, never Akane's, but he'd managed with Sigma. Hopefully, now would be a time like that.
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Exiting the alleyway, he sprints towards the young man and falls in step at his side. As usual Sigma avoids physical contact, but speaks to him in a whisper, a grave expression on his face. His stomach twisted: this close, there was no mistake... this was his only child, Kyle Klim.
"Kyle... I have found you."
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However, that whisper identified who he was talking to.
"Father." He responded quietly, calmly. He remembered. You remembered. Perhaps the worst thing that could have happened, he supposed, was him arriving without his memory. Especially since this was a thing. That happened.
He looked over at the other, face still calm, mechanical, blank - it was a face without emotion. Wearing a mask did that to you, especially if you were neglected. An unfortunate side effect.
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Sigma looks into Kyle's eyes for as long as he can stand. Perhaps Sigma had subconsciously designed Kyle's armor the way he did as a method of dehumanizing him, justifying how Sigma had to treat him. But the deep regret he carried for his abuse of Kyle grew. Now staring straight ahead, Dr. Klim was silent a moment. He says simply: "They took you as Tribute as well. What is the last thing you remember?"
He had a suspicion of which timeline Kyle hailed from. But he wanted to be absolutely certain...
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So he'd attached to someone else, instead.
Kyle didn't break the gaze, but let Sigma break it instead. It didn't matter quite that much, to him. He looked over at the other, at the question. He hadn't realized they might be from alternate timelines, but now that he thought about it it was, perhaps, obvious. "Telling Sigma what I promised Akane I would tell him, and then falling asleep."
It was perhaps an obvious divide - this Sigma was Father, and the 22 year old Sigma was Sigma. This would never get complicated. Never ever.
In any case - would his father remember that? He wasn't sure...
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This was a Kyle who had been sacrificed for his dreams, one of the many whose death Sigma could remember. But this was not the one he had seen last, and perhaps for the best. He no longer wished to think on his terrible failure at the test site.
At last he raised his voice. "...I see." Though, to Sigma, it had happened 45 years ago, he recalled the incident with perfect clarity. The two of them had died together, and through the lens of Kyle's parent, their ends seemed crueler now. "Well, K, I noticed you are assigned to District 7," Sigma watched Kyle again, with an intense look as though to suggest they keep to his pseudonym. Little did he know Kyle was way ahead of him. "You may call me Dr. Klim. They placed me in 10." Tenth floor.
A beat. "By the time you arrived, I was already dead. I am sorry you suffered the same fate so quickly."
The connotation is thick. I am sorry I killed you. I am sorry I was not there.
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In any case, he blinked at the other raising his voice - so this was now their public conversation. K was, indeed, far ahead of him in being called K - although he was only made more sure that choosing to be called that was the right thing, now. He was glad the other gave him an alternative to calling him Sigma - that would, perhaps, have gotten confusing.
In any case, the connotation there? It soars over K's head easily. "It's quite alright. To tell the truth, it wasn't quite as bad as the first time." That was the truth - although, it'd hurt more the first time because of when he'd heard that injection gun go off. Nothing more, nothing less.
Also yeah Sigma you sort of desensitized your son to dying - his face doesn't fall once. Perhaps that's disturbing, but whatever. He's just... used to expressing even less around you, Sigma. Coldness begets coldness.
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He's in the Training Center, practicing some kata swordplay. Of all things. A sword. He generally didn't use them,but...in the Arena, it was always best to be prepared to use any weapon.
He hated it.assuming K didn't get his name
K recognized this one, of course. ...Given, he now had a shell, but the green tint of skin, and that face were sort of hard not to remember. He doubted there were any other gigantic turtles around here.
(...Were giant turtles common, on Earth? He'd ask Sigma, later. He didn't think so, but... the other was apparently not drawing too many stares here...)
Despite his calm demeanor as he watched the other practice with a sword, he fidgeted internally. He was trying to find the right words to dispel enmity with the turtle. After a few minutes of watching, K approaches, opening with a simple-
"Hello."
Oh Christ he'd just realized he hadn't even got the other's name. Time to skirt around the subject.
"I came to apologize, for my conduct in the Arena, earlier." Even if they'd played up it being an accident on K's part on the screens - perhaps to make him seem weaker - he had figured that Donatello, at least, knew the truth.
XD
The sword instantly embedded itself into the shoulder of the dummy, and there is silence before the turtle responds.
"I don't generally get apologies for that kind of stuff. Why did you do it?"
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He just didn't want to have anything backfire on him, later. Best to settle this now, not in the Arena.
"I... suppose you could say I was frightened. I had only been introduced into the Arena that day, and as you may have noticed I was... distracting myself, at the time." This was not entirely a lie - K had indeed been scared, even if it was hard to believe given how he acted. It hadn't limited his reason, however. ...And he lied outright about the distracting. Snow was cool. "And... I did not know what to do. Although, I suppose I was the one who ended up paying for that, rather than you." Reminding you you pulled him off a cliff, Donny. He smiles at that, too, like it's perhaps something of a funny joke rather then the sad fact it was.
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"You attacked me." It was a simple thing, to him. "I did what I had to to defend myself, so I could stay alive as long as I could."
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You are one straight to the point turtle, Donny.
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weaknessesqualities. Though even he knows when not to be honest and direct and trusting - at least some of the time.This is one of those times, Don. Pick up on it."...All right. I'll...I'll hold you to that."
Or not.no subject
K nodded, his regret turning into somewhere between calmness and happiness - his face was still fairly calm, for what it was, but there was a slight twinge of a smile at the corners of his mouth.
That was only partially a lie. He wasn't intending to break the other's trust, but if it were necessary...