Punchy Be Laying It Phat Like a Baller (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
culturalappropriation) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2014-11-16 07:48 pm
culturalappropriation) wrote in thecapitol2014-11-16 07:48 pm
Entry tags:
Wednesday's Panties on a Friday Night [Closed]
WHO| Punchy and Darcy
WHAT| The new Victor hooks up with one of his roommates.
WHEN| A few days after the mini Arena.
WHERE| D6 Suite
WARNINGS| Punchy getting laid. Avert yon eyes.
For a few days, District Six is filled with what may be the loudest and most obnoxious set of mating calls the Capitol has ever heard. Between Punchy trying to drown his pain out in slamming bass and dope rhymes and Darcy's attempts to drown that out with MGMT and The Killers, there doesn't seem to be even enough silence to hear one's self think. All the air is taken up on transporting competing sound waves. It's bad enough that the windows rattle and someone in District Five accidentally puts a hole in their ceiling from hitting it with a broom.
Eventually Punchy switches over from Rakim and Cage and decides to engage with the assault of shitty hipster music Darcy's leveling at him. The soundtrack changes over, not in volume but in content, as he starts to retaliate with the kind of slick alternative hip hop that girls like to drink PBR to. That's the plan, anyway. Punchy doesn't really know if PBR's a thing here.
But soon even that becomes boring, and Punchy isn't doing well left to his thoughts, left to marinate in 'victory', whatever that means in this awful place. He's lonely and scared and sad atop his throne of murder. For the first time in his life he truly feels like a jester, this joke of a hero that the Capitol is telling. He does push-ups and sit-ups and paces in his room until his bare feet develop callouses. He dismantles the fire alarm so he can smoke weed and then cigarettes.
When he finally gives in and decides to tell Darcy that god damn it, Vampire Weekend is a terrible band, he's shirtless and in sweatpants and with some pretty intense bedhead. He finally turns off his sound system and shoves some gummi bears in his mouth and walks down the hall.
He bangs on her door. "Cracker, if you gonna blast on a bucket like that, we gonna have to get active, you hear? Your speakers is busted."
WHAT| The new Victor hooks up with one of his roommates.
WHEN| A few days after the mini Arena.
WHERE| D6 Suite
WARNINGS| Punchy getting laid. Avert yon eyes.
For a few days, District Six is filled with what may be the loudest and most obnoxious set of mating calls the Capitol has ever heard. Between Punchy trying to drown his pain out in slamming bass and dope rhymes and Darcy's attempts to drown that out with MGMT and The Killers, there doesn't seem to be even enough silence to hear one's self think. All the air is taken up on transporting competing sound waves. It's bad enough that the windows rattle and someone in District Five accidentally puts a hole in their ceiling from hitting it with a broom.
Eventually Punchy switches over from Rakim and Cage and decides to engage with the assault of shitty hipster music Darcy's leveling at him. The soundtrack changes over, not in volume but in content, as he starts to retaliate with the kind of slick alternative hip hop that girls like to drink PBR to. That's the plan, anyway. Punchy doesn't really know if PBR's a thing here.
But soon even that becomes boring, and Punchy isn't doing well left to his thoughts, left to marinate in 'victory', whatever that means in this awful place. He's lonely and scared and sad atop his throne of murder. For the first time in his life he truly feels like a jester, this joke of a hero that the Capitol is telling. He does push-ups and sit-ups and paces in his room until his bare feet develop callouses. He dismantles the fire alarm so he can smoke weed and then cigarettes.
When he finally gives in and decides to tell Darcy that god damn it, Vampire Weekend is a terrible band, he's shirtless and in sweatpants and with some pretty intense bedhead. He finally turns off his sound system and shoves some gummi bears in his mouth and walks down the hall.
He bangs on her door. "Cracker, if you gonna blast on a bucket like that, we gonna have to get active, you hear? Your speakers is busted."