thecapitol | climbing up the walls

Entry tags:

climbing up the walls

Who| Nill and YOU
What| Nill has a full pass! She's going around seeing if anyone needs anything. Also training and hanging out on the rooftop later.
Where| Literally every district suite in the tower, and then later the training center and rooftop.
When| a few days after the start of curfew, throughout the night after 11pm.
Warnings/Notes| smoking? will add more as needed.

(a.)

Hello, tower residents! It's well past the start of curfew, but if you're paying attention, you might hear the telltale ding of the elevators stopping at your floor. Anyone curious enough to investigate will find a young blond-haired woman with wings stepping off, and though she doesn't look entirely comfortable with intruding the way she is, she nonetheless seems friendly. She steps over to near the entrance of the actual suite, though she doesn't go inside any further, and raps her knuckles against the wall a few times, to make sure that if anyone is there, she has their attention.

If someone actually comes out then Nill puts on her most polite smile, and she holds up a notepad, a message already written out on it.

hello.
my name is Nill.
I have a full pass, so I can go out at night.
if there is anything you need I would be happy to get it for you.

It certainly looks like she means it, too. Her demeanor is nothing but gentle and kind, if a bit uncertain of the method she's using.

As or District 9, Nill probably won't be around too much tonight, but she left a note on the fridge, informing her suitemates that if they want anything after curfew they're free to ask her to get it for them. There's a tiny doodle on the corner of the page of a person with a dress and wings, for anyone who doesn't know her by name yet.

(b.) 4 - 5am, training center.

Anyone who's either got a pass of their own, or is just ignoring the curfew for the evening, will see a rare site if they wander into the training center: at one of the corner stations, there's one young woman, dressed in clothes that would obviously be good for training just about anything. That part isn't so unusual.

The unusual part is that she's practicing with weapons.

If you've been in the training center before this point, then chances are you've seen Nill at some point or another. She's there every day, practicing with almost everything available to her, but she never, ever touches the weapons. Up until now she's always stayed at the smaller stations, practicing knots, learning which things are or are not safe to eat, figuring out how to do camouflage. But tonight (this morning) she's working on training with weapons, and she stops at almost every station, trying every single thing available to her.

At first glance, it might even seem like she's bad with them.

(c.) 6am, rooftop.

An hour before the end of curfew, Nill has found herself on the rooftop, looking at the stars before it gets too bright out for her to see them terribly well. Right now the sky is still dark, and Nill sits on a bench near some of the plants, relaxed and almost close to content. She has a flashlight and a book, open in her lap, and she frequently switches from looking at the sky to using the flashlight to look at the book in her lap.

A lit cigarette dangles from between her lips, but she doesn't actually seem to inhale from it very often, instead just letting the smoke rise around her.

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It happens that someone else is having some difficulty sleeping. He always does, especially around Game time. The nightmares are always a problem, but he's also starting to feel the first tugs of withdrawal from Morphling. Rehabilitation in the Capitol is a short-term solution when the drug is so readily available, but it's much harder to find when curfew is in effect.

He notices a puff of smoke; not his favorite vice, but a relaxing one, and a good distraction.

"Would you mind terribly if I bummed one?" he asks, crouching beside the figure following a soft approach. "I'll repay you, with interest; a full pack later this morning."

The guy who comes out of D11's suite should be pretty recognizable, in spite of the distinct lack of leather and chains. It's not like there are a lot of people walking around with wings, much less bright orange ones. This time he's dressed in casual clothes -- jeans and a black/gray raglan tee with holes cut through the back -- and an ever-present pair of dark sunglasses, even if the sun has already gone down for the evening.

"Oh, hey." He takes a second to read the note, and crosses his arms across his chest. "Nill, huh? How the hell did you manage to get hooked up with a full pass?"

It's an earnest question.

She recognizes him immediately from their conversation, and it shows, mostly in a quiet sort of surprise. But Nill is quick to give people the benefit of doubt, even if they look like drug addicts, and she smiles, quickly fishing out her pack of cigarettes and lighter. She pulls out two and passes both over to him, along with the lighter, already writing on her notepad with her other hand. She holds it up after he takes them.

you don't need to.
will you be okay out here?

By which she means, does he have a pass? She does, but that's because the Capitol thinks she's harmless. Nill's not entirely sure they would think that of him, even if he doesn't look capable of very much right now.

Oh, hey. Nill honestly wasn't expecting to run into him so soon after the crowning, especially with her hours and not being in the same district, but it's a pleasant surprise. She's momentarily distracted by his wings, her own fluttering slightly, because they're so much bigger than she thought they'd be.

She gets over it quickly though, and smiles, flipping a few pages to find a blank one. She started at the top with the intent to work her way down, so it's only the second floor she's been to, but there's already a page or two with stuff from the previous one, and the hello message stays at the front.

I told them I wanted to do my best.

And they went for it. Why not, right? She's clearly just a well-meaning tribute.

...Now that she thinks about it, he kind of looks like one of the people in her district, doesn't he? She hasn't seen much of him, especially since she's no longer stuck there because of the curfew, but she's pretty sure he wears sunglasses too. How odd.

Two cigarettes is pretty generous. The implication is that she wants him to stay longer, perhaps, or maybe she is simply the type to give double what she's asked whenever she can. The second possibility wouldn't surprise Linden based on what he's already experienced of this girl's nature. He accepts them, holding one between his lips and setting the other aside, using both hands to steady the lighter and produce a flame. Alone, his hands shake too much, and it'll get worse if he doesn't get some Morphling in the next few hours. He doesn't answer until he's taken a deep drag, held it until his chest cavity burns sickeningly, and then exhales, politely, away from the angel-winged girl.

"I'm a Mentor. That's my pass."

It's probably technically untrue, but there are worse things that Linden could get up to, and the Capitol knows it. If breaking small rules keeps him occupied, it means that, for now at least, he won't aspire to breaking big ones.

"Don't worry. I won't get you in trouble. I didn't see anyone watching the elevators or the stairwell on my way up, and I checked the cameras to make sure."

She recognizes the shakes. Saw them in at least two different people, one considerably more severe than the other, but it's similar nonetheless. You start to recognize this kinda thing if you've been in the company of Jesse Pinkman for extended periods of time, or when someone you love is an addict.

Nill watches quietly, and takes back the lighter when he's finished - if he smokes the next one while he's here, she'll light it up for him. She lets him smoke though, attention turning up to the sky again, before she flicks ashes from her cigarette and squints down at her book. The lighting isn't great up here for actual reading, which is what the flashlight is for, but if he can see enough without it own then he might notice it's a book of constellations and stars.

When he actually says something she writes up an answer almost immediately, larger letters to make up for the lighting and time of day, exhaling smoke as she does, though not in his direction.

I'm not worried about me.
do you need anything?
I won't get you drugs or alcohol.

Alcohol she'd do for someone else, but if he's an addict then she doesn't want to give him anything stronger than cigarettes.

When Nill lands on the District 11 floor, she should be able to hear the faint sounds of 16-bit music coming in from the main lounge. Although it's loud enough to be heard from the elevator, it's not loud enough to cover up Nill's knocking; she gets an answer shouted back as soon as she makes her presence known.

"Hey! Come in!" No, Gary doesn't know who else is up at this hour, nor does he consider why they're out past curfew. He assumes everyone else in his suite is asleep at this point, so all he really cares about is having someone to play video games with. "Let me get you some snacks or something!"

He would do that now, but he's in the middle of a tricky level and he can't get up from his spot in front of the television. There are also a pair of tribbles in his lap and he would hate to disturb them.

It's been the longest time since she actually saw anyone playing video games last, and though she's surprised at the shouted invitation, she's quick to take it, peering into the common room.

She's not expecting the poor guy she worried at the crowning. Her wings flutter, immediately unsure if she should stay, if he would even want her to after that whole thing, but she's pretty sure he hasn't actually seen her. And she's not fond of making assumptions, so she knocks against the wall again. Maybe he has a pause button he can use.

Nill has not seen the tribble horde around the tower, and she's not sure what's in his lap, if it's even an animal. Please don't be a cat, please please please don't be a cat...

It helps that they aren't bound down like Big Bird's first foray into bondage.

"So, what, you're like a Capitol-flavored girl scout?" It isn't really accusatory, even if it could be taken that way. Mostly he knows that the walls have ears, and it would be really stupid to say Wow, and they fell for it?

"Cool, I guess. What kinds of things are you getting? My list is pretty extensive and I'm a picky kinda guy."

She smiles, and it's not that the smile is fake - it's that the smile looks like the sort when you're putting on a show, and people usually fall for it. An imitation of what she gave the person that interviewed her. Damn right they fell for it. There are few things Nill has truly gotten good at over the years, but convincing people she's harmless? That she is good at. Maybe more so than what she can manage with a knife or gun.

I guess so.
tell me what you want and I will see what I can carry.
I have all night.

She's glad he's smart enough to not say anything about it out loud. Either that or he just has no idea. It works for her either way.

He takes a moment to glance around before leaning down so as to speak in a low voice.

"Tell me you know what Doritos are."

Doritos. Doritos.

Seriously, Davesprite?

Nill doesn't actually respond, written or otherwise. She waits a moment, to make sure he doesn't try to correct that at all, and when he doesn't she breaks into a fit of silent giggles, hunching forward slightly. Her wings and shoulders shake with it, which does nothing for her image, but she nods nonetheless. Yeah, she. She definitely knows what Doritos are.

"Good. I want a metric fuckton of them."

Watching her giggle... causes the corner of his mouth to purse, as if on the verge of smirking. It's gone a second later, and he shrugs his shoulder.

"Some decent art supplies wouldn't hurt, either, I guess."

For those who can see the signs, Linden might as well be lit up like neon. Pale and thin, with his eyes glazed over, he is a classic and obvious addict. He's self-aware enough to realize this, and the written condition, that she won't contribute to the things that have clearly harmed him, isn't particularly surprising. Condescending and presumptive, maybe, but as long as she's giving him cigarettes he can't really call her out on it in good conscience. Her intent is pretty clearly not to insult him, so he lets it go.

"No, I don't need anything," he replies evenly, though his appearance screams otherwise. He could use a good meal. A glass of water. A set of fresh clothes and a good night's sleep. He will get none of these things before he is in a state of desperation, and even then, Morphling will be the top priority. That's just how it works.

"Is that how you respond to all the pressure of the Games, seeing what you can do for others?" He asks, both to fill the silence and out of idle interest.

Enjoy the giggles while you can Davesprite, because she's gonna be fucking furious with you the next time she sees you.

I think I can do that.

Unfortunately, Nill has done the enabling thing before, when it came to someone she cared about very much. It wasn't a direct factor in his death, but had she gotten him out of it sooner he might still be alive. She won't do it again.

He says no, and Nill makes a point of not looking him over, but it's obvious even without doing so that there are a lot of things that would be good for him that he might not actually be doing for himself.

Is it how she copes? Nill's never thought much of it before, but she can't be sure that this is any different from how she might be in better conditions. This place is horrific, but she's not sure if it's any worse than the places she's been, or the world she was born in. Everything was a game for someone, in every world, and she doesn't remember ever not wanting to help people.

She shrugs, her wings fluttering as she does so.

maybe it is.
your name is Linden, right?
are you up here every night?

Why aren't they saying anything? Gary frowns at the screen.

"What?" Fair point, he can pause the game, but given the choice to do that and actually finish what he's certain will be just thirty more seconds of play, his decision is clear. Gary at least chances a quick glance over his shoulder. "Just a moment...oh!"

Well, that explains a lot. Gary's face splits in a bright smile--pleasant surprise, far from the worry that Nill is probably expecting from him. He hardly even remembers the more uncomfortable side of their encounter at the crowning. "Hey, nice to see you again! Come on!" Gary punches the pause button and excitedly waves Nill further inside, moments before hopping to his feet to intercept her. The tribbles in his lap are rather rudely abandoned on the floor with a chorus of alarmed chirps. "What are you up to?"

Gary only sees the sign Nill is holding in passing and won't bother to read it unless directed. Always observant, this one.

Edited 2014-10-27 17:45 (UTC)

Any relationship with an addict is, by its nature, heartbreaking. Intellectually, Linden knows this, but doesn't have many opportunities to see the kind of damage it brings down on those foolish enough to care. He doesn't pursue relationships, he's Capitol property, and when he hurts himself, the effects don't go further than putting a wrinkle in someone's plans for a public appearance. What is one more "sick day" to a washed-up former Victor during the off-season, anyway?

He jumps slightly at the flutter of her wings. They look decorative, not unlike fashion statements worn by Capitol citizens sometimes, and it startles him to see them move of their own accord like that.

"Yes," he replies, round eyes flicking back and forth across her written message. "I'm Linden Lockhearst. District 6. Mentor."

It's practically automatic, that introduction.

"And no... just the nights I can't sleep."

The way his words slow down, adopt just a touch of uncertainty, imply that he's usually out like a light. He needs Morphling to sleep, though, ergo being awake means his supply has dwindled and depleted itself.

She mistakes his jump as an adverse reaction, too startling for someone awake from withdrawal and possibly not all quite there. The wings flutter one more time, the feathers ruffling up a little, before folding in and resting against her shoulder blades.

The more Linden talks, the more Nill gets the impression that Linden has probably had one of the tougher lives that Victors seem to have after their victories. The way he says his name, like it's more of a label than anything that actually belongs to him. She watches him, and then writes her next response, holding it up for him to see again.

I'm Nill. District 9 tribute.
I only received my pass today, but I like it here. I should be here again tomorrow.

It's a very gentle kind of invitation, and one she hopes he won't take the wrong way. But not being able to sleep was bad enough without also having to deal with withdrawal, and being alone. She could keep him company if he wanted

The wings fold like those of a bird at rest, removing themselves as a distraction. Linden wonders if it's because he jumped; that's a problem, how twitchy he tends to be, when his entire central nervous system is simply on a hairtrigger at all times due to the withdrawal and the still-fresh memories of his own Hunger Games.

It doesn't help that he rewatches the parts with Scorpii too frequently for it to be remotely healthy.

"Tomorrow?" he asks, doubtfully; he understands the invitation, but isn't sure if it's real, a correct interpretation. "I guess it's a better place to smoke than most..."

It's his roundabout way of accepting.

She'll get used to it. Nill is usually pretty good at picking up whatever quirks people might have and accommodating them as needed. She had watched bits and pieces of his game since their network conversation, and she'll probably watch an interview, if only to make sure that his game didn't damage his abilities irreparably.

(Nill really, really likes Clementine.)

She understands the acceptance for what it is, and a small, warm smile spreads across her face.

it's the best place I have found so far.
I don't mind sharing it.

It's certainly not the kind of reaction she thought she would get, and Nill is visibly surprised and a little confused by it, but certainly not unhappy. She hadn't wanted that one experience to ruin any possibility of friendship she might have been able to have. Before she realizes it a small smile appears on her face, though slightly awkward, and she waves at him.

Her wings flutter, and she quickly steps inside the actual room. She's a little distracted by the unhappy chirping however, and holds up the notepad, pointing at it distractedly while she looks at the tribbles and tries to figure out just what in the world they are. They definitely just made a sound. Right? So they were alive? But even on closer inspection, they just look like balls of fluff. They still don't look like cats, but who knows. They might be related to them somehow. You never know with these things.

"Sweet."

But you'll still like him, right?

"So like... do I have to pay you or something?"

Of course. She'll just think he's a total moron incapable of looking after himself. You'd be surprised how many friends she's had like that.

Her wings flutter a little, surprised, and Nill quickly shakes her head, waving a hand as well before she actually writes a reply.

of course not.

His eyes tick behind his shades, watching her wings flutter. For a brief moment, part of him wonders if he does the same sort of shit without even realizing it.

"Good 'cause they only gave me this shitty credit card, and the only experience I have with those is using my bro's to subscribe to shitty porn channels and buy illegal forms of mind-altering substances online."

It's hard to tell if he's being serious or not.

Edited 2014-10-31 16:10 (UTC)

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climbing up the walls

C

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A (I think we can make the continuity work with Davesprite's post)

definitely!

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