The Initiate Fraysong ♑ (Young GHB) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
carnagecarnival) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2014-11-04 10:11 pm
carnagecarnival) wrote in thecapitol2014-11-04 10:11 pm
Give thy thoughts no tongue
Who| Initiate and OPEN
What| Initiate got told to go to speech therapy lest he find himself avoxed again. His escort signed him up. He's not enjoying this.
Where| Around any lobby, lounge, cafe, library, or park -- you decide!
When| Wibbly wobbly time -- various points before and after dying gruesomely in the children's arena
WARNINGS| Language.
The books are piled high around him. There's enough he could build himself a small tower, or he could rearrange them into a wall what he could sit inside. Truthfully, he ain't above none of those things, but he's on business right this minute.
Some very frustrating, slightly painful business.
Normally, when he takes to reading-- which is often-- he keeps quiet, letting the words roll all into his skull of their own willing. Reading out-loud just drew attention on things he didn't need attention for. In this case, however, he ain't got a choice. Alex hadn't outfight said, get this done or you'll be made a mute again, but there was still the threat there, and if he had to talk with the motherfucker again, it might not go so well. But the other reason was that he hadn't actually signed up willing. It had been done for him, and it was awful, and he'd be happy to never ever motherfucking do for one of them sessions again, with the Capitolite "speech therapist" making like he was some kind of stupid and couldn't talk just as well as any.
Like he did the fluctuations deliberate. He didn't. Doesn't. But they happen, all scarred on him by the power of his voodoo, and he can't just make it stop. Voodoo scarring don't fade. This is a futile task.
Still, he's here, reading Shakespeare aloud and miserable.
"WHAT-- gh-- what do you read my lord? WOR-- rrr-- FUCK!" His voice has never sounded quite so hoarse. His face is twisted up like he's in physical pain. He breathes deep through his fangs. "Words, words, words. WHAT IS THE M- OTHERFUCKING...! Whatisthematter,mylord, betweenwho!"
He drops the book and let his face fall in his hands. So what if everyone can hear him whine? They can hear him doing this shit, which is even worse. This is never going to work.
What| Initiate got told to go to speech therapy lest he find himself avoxed again. His escort signed him up. He's not enjoying this.
Where| Around any lobby, lounge, cafe, library, or park -- you decide!
When| Wibbly wobbly time -- various points before and after dying gruesomely in the children's arena
WARNINGS| Language.
The books are piled high around him. There's enough he could build himself a small tower, or he could rearrange them into a wall what he could sit inside. Truthfully, he ain't above none of those things, but he's on business right this minute.
Some very frustrating, slightly painful business.
Normally, when he takes to reading-- which is often-- he keeps quiet, letting the words roll all into his skull of their own willing. Reading out-loud just drew attention on things he didn't need attention for. In this case, however, he ain't got a choice. Alex hadn't outfight said, get this done or you'll be made a mute again, but there was still the threat there, and if he had to talk with the motherfucker again, it might not go so well. But the other reason was that he hadn't actually signed up willing. It had been done for him, and it was awful, and he'd be happy to never ever motherfucking do for one of them sessions again, with the Capitolite "speech therapist" making like he was some kind of stupid and couldn't talk just as well as any.
Like he did the fluctuations deliberate. He didn't. Doesn't. But they happen, all scarred on him by the power of his voodoo, and he can't just make it stop. Voodoo scarring don't fade. This is a futile task.
Still, he's here, reading Shakespeare aloud and miserable.
"WHAT-- gh-- what do you read my lord? WOR-- rrr-- FUCK!" His voice has never sounded quite so hoarse. His face is twisted up like he's in physical pain. He breathes deep through his fangs. "Words, words, words. WHAT IS THE M- OTHERFUCKING...! Whatisthematter,mylord, betweenwho!"
He drops the book and let his face fall in his hands. So what if everyone can hear him whine? They can hear him doing this shit, which is even worse. This is never going to work.
no subject
He bops the bird's head with his finger affectionately when Initiate looks at it, to which the bird mutters a faint chirp of frick. Clearly it's got quite the vocabulary, thanks to the genetic engineering of Capitol bird enthusiasts.
"I dunno." Dave answers, having not heard the question but pretending he did anyway. "The usual. Died. Came back. Did a stocktake of who came back and who didn't. Ate a burrito." He shrugs. "I was taking my bird for a walk, but you piqued my interest, Big Top. You studying for an exam or something?"
no subject
Wouldn't that be the fucking day. Of course, it's not true.
"THE MOTHERFUCKERS UP IN THIS BITCH GOT QUALM DONE UP BY HIS SPEAKING," He explains, for real this time. "Comes on the fuck like as being too motherfucking agressive. TOO LOUD, S'WHAT THEY'S BE AT TO SAYING. Sure you ain't know what all he's meaning or none by that, Shades."
He lifts his brows, daring him to challenge or pretend otherwise. Also because he's got his eye on that bird. Why the fuck would a bird need walking. Birds fly. Don't they?
He shrugs. "HATE WHAT THINGS THEY GET TO DO. Figured if I could do it my ownself wouldn't have to do it up at all no more."
Naturally it was going... not well.
no subject
"Madness." He says in the flattest, least sincere voice known to man. "What a brazen ass accusation for them to make. Your voice is softer than a padded room." He presses a hands to his chest like his sensibilities are offended by this before letting it drop and slip into his pocket to regain his casual stance.
"Good plan in theory, dunno if Shakespeare is the man for the job though. I'm saying this as someone who had to endure years of his bullshit." He gives his shoulders a small shrug. "Gotta worry about a guy who uses egg as an insult. Unless you like him, in which case, I said none of that."
no subject
He reaches over to find the one quote Dave is surely giving reference to. "SEE HERE." He points to a page in the human Macbeth. There are many differences in the Alternian to human versions, but apparently this lasted the passing. "When he calls him egg, he does claim of calling youth then also. IT MEANS AS LIKE THE MOTHERFUCKER AIN'T HARDLY HATCHED. All too much a wriggler, shouldn't have left shell. AND YET STILL TREACHEROUS BY THE CULL CALLING."
He looks back to Dave. "But tell. WHAT SAY YOU WOULD BE BETTER, THEN?"
no subject
"Yeah, but humans aren't laid like eggs. We come out all pink and screaming, you feel me? He could have called him a baby and saved everyone that ridiculous moment of confusion." He's mostly jibing, though, he hopes he's conveying that well enough.
"Have you ever heard of Dr.Suess? The Grinch changed me and all subsequent opinions of Christmas. Hop on Pop was a revelation, too." He invites himself to sit, resting his chin on his hand. "I dunno, man. I doubt they'd have any of the stuff I read around here." Hipster? Him? Say it ain't so.
no subject
He adds, "THAT WHOLE SCREAMING PINK NOISE SOUNDS LIKE SOMETHING I AIN'T WANT TO KNOW PROPER ON BY WAYS MEANING."
True horror and tragedy though is not knowing anything about Dr.Suess. The Initiate tries to think, but he recalls of nothing like a troll version of the sort. Maybe not his time.
"Dilemmas undoing of what's being legit. GOT LUCKY AT FOR FINDING ANY OF THIS. But perhaps. IF THEY HAD THESE, COULD HAVE YOURS. Miracles how all that works."