Marco (
gobananas) wrote in
thecapitol2014-11-06 09:08 pm
I Long to Be As Careless As I Once Was [Open]
WHO| Marco and open!
WHAT| Marco flops around after one of Calendius' work-outs. All take pity on this poor soul.
WHEN| A few days after the mini-Arena.
WHERE| The Training Center and the District Two common room
WARNINGS| None yet.
TRAINING CENTER
One of the many harsh lessons Marco learns on his first day in Panem is that Calendius Rey doesn't fall for the same puppy eyes and flopping on the floor that most gym teachers do. Marco pulled out a veritable greatest hits of excuses, ranging from a pulled muscle to an inexplicable allergy to his own sweat to just plain 'don't wanna'. No dice. Calendius made him do pushups, pullups, wind sprints, and some exercises that Marco's pretty sure are actually acrobatic stunts and don't stretch anything.
Actually, more accurately, Calendius made him flail around on the exercise equipment for six hours until Marco's normally adorable face was red as a tomato and his nice haircut was mussed up with about four gallons of sweat. And to add insult to injury? The only snack Calendius gave him at the end was a protein bar and a bottle of mineral water.
Marco's definitely not going to morph until he knows exactly how safe it is, but the idea of turning into a muscle-bound silverback gorilla in ninety seconds and giving Calendius a little love tap did cross his mind about oh, four thousand times throughout the morning. Now that he's free (blissfully free, because Calendius had some appointment to 'get his eyebrows threaded', whatever that means), Marco doesn't even have the energy to cram the protein bar in his face. He just flops facedown onto one of the exercise mats.
For a while he lies there because he's really just too exhausted to get up, but after a while it's something more like theater. Every time someone walks by, Marco (very loudly) complains in their general direction: "Don't worry about me, I'm just lying here exercised to death! Cut down in my youth by the gym teacher from hell!"
DISTRICT TWO
The first thing he needs to do, now that he's escaped from the living Ken Doll that is his Escort, is understand more about this absolutely bizarre place he's ended up. As such, Marco drags his sorry, exercised-to-death butt to the lounge in his 'District Suite' and takes up as much of the couch as a vertically-challenged teenager can. He flips on the TV.
First observation: the fashion here is insane, and that's coming from a kid who runs around barefoot in itty-bitty bike shorts for his extracurricular saving-the-world hobby. He turns on the television in the lounge and he's pretty sure the news anchor is tattooed plaid. Rachel would be having a fit. Marco's surprised anyone with eyes isn't having a fit.
Second observation: Marco's pretty sure that the audience for this 'Hunger Games' TV show have never actually seen people die in the flesh. If they think it's fun to watch real people die they're either total sociopaths or have no idea what it is that they're actually seeing. The scenes with dramatic music, that he's sure are supposed to be exciting and riveting and feel like the world's greatest action movie, just make him feel like his guts are made of ice water.
Soon they're going to want him in there. Running around screaming and crying instead of back where he needs to be, fighting for things that actually matter. Killing people just as helpless as he is.
He groans and slumps back on the couch. "Does this thing at least get HBO? Some nice, relaxing cooking channel?" And he starts to flip through the channels.
WHAT| Marco flops around after one of Calendius' work-outs. All take pity on this poor soul.
WHEN| A few days after the mini-Arena.
WHERE| The Training Center and the District Two common room
WARNINGS| None yet.
TRAINING CENTER
One of the many harsh lessons Marco learns on his first day in Panem is that Calendius Rey doesn't fall for the same puppy eyes and flopping on the floor that most gym teachers do. Marco pulled out a veritable greatest hits of excuses, ranging from a pulled muscle to an inexplicable allergy to his own sweat to just plain 'don't wanna'. No dice. Calendius made him do pushups, pullups, wind sprints, and some exercises that Marco's pretty sure are actually acrobatic stunts and don't stretch anything.
Actually, more accurately, Calendius made him flail around on the exercise equipment for six hours until Marco's normally adorable face was red as a tomato and his nice haircut was mussed up with about four gallons of sweat. And to add insult to injury? The only snack Calendius gave him at the end was a protein bar and a bottle of mineral water.
Marco's definitely not going to morph until he knows exactly how safe it is, but the idea of turning into a muscle-bound silverback gorilla in ninety seconds and giving Calendius a little love tap did cross his mind about oh, four thousand times throughout the morning. Now that he's free (blissfully free, because Calendius had some appointment to 'get his eyebrows threaded', whatever that means), Marco doesn't even have the energy to cram the protein bar in his face. He just flops facedown onto one of the exercise mats.
For a while he lies there because he's really just too exhausted to get up, but after a while it's something more like theater. Every time someone walks by, Marco (very loudly) complains in their general direction: "Don't worry about me, I'm just lying here exercised to death! Cut down in my youth by the gym teacher from hell!"
DISTRICT TWO
The first thing he needs to do, now that he's escaped from the living Ken Doll that is his Escort, is understand more about this absolutely bizarre place he's ended up. As such, Marco drags his sorry, exercised-to-death butt to the lounge in his 'District Suite' and takes up as much of the couch as a vertically-challenged teenager can. He flips on the TV.
First observation: the fashion here is insane, and that's coming from a kid who runs around barefoot in itty-bitty bike shorts for his extracurricular saving-the-world hobby. He turns on the television in the lounge and he's pretty sure the news anchor is tattooed plaid. Rachel would be having a fit. Marco's surprised anyone with eyes isn't having a fit.
Second observation: Marco's pretty sure that the audience for this 'Hunger Games' TV show have never actually seen people die in the flesh. If they think it's fun to watch real people die they're either total sociopaths or have no idea what it is that they're actually seeing. The scenes with dramatic music, that he's sure are supposed to be exciting and riveting and feel like the world's greatest action movie, just make him feel like his guts are made of ice water.
Soon they're going to want him in there. Running around screaming and crying instead of back where he needs to be, fighting for things that actually matter. Killing people just as helpless as he is.
He groans and slumps back on the couch. "Does this thing at least get HBO? Some nice, relaxing cooking channel?" And he starts to flip through the channels.

no subject
"But you might still have gotten off easy, apparently some mentors deliberately make their people sick." Eponine just can't catch a break.
She shrugs and flashes him a pretty smile. "But my mentors always nice to me, for some reason."
no subject
"Are you the resident Kiss-Ass or something?"
no subject
Diana shakes her head at him, smiling like he's made a childish mistake. "Why would I need to be friendly with everyone, when just one person can get the job done?"
She lowers her head and catches his eyes with her dark, long lash framed ones. "Besides, my mentor, well, she prefers the more... 'literal' interpretation of ass kissing. They wouldn't feel very special if I gave everyone the same treatment, would they?"
no subject
"Also? Way too much information."
no subject
Diana sighs and starts tying up the long dark hair into a messy bun, muttering to herself. "Would it kill them to throw us someone funny for once?"
no subject
"Hey, I'm plenty funny. Your sense of humor just needs a refund. Try actually understanding a joke when someone makes it."
no subject
Diana just seems to look amused at his standoffish attitude.
"If talking in a serious voice about death is supposed to be humor then I hate to break it to you Handsome, but we've already got a surplus of comedic geniuses."
no subject
"Are you done acting like hot shit?"