Karkat Vantas ♋ carcinoGeneticist (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
crabmunicator) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2015-01-04 09:33 am
crabmunicator) wrote in thecapitol2015-01-04 09:33 am
(OPEN)
Who| Karkat and whoever runs into him
What| Dealing with aftermath of the arena and adjusting back to Capitol life.
Where| Out in the Capitol, on the training floor, in district 6, or bugging specific people.
When| During the first week post-arena.
Warnings/Notes| Possible description of gore and death, but not likely to come up in most threads. Otherwise just Karkat's foul mouth.
A. The Capitol
The thing about fighting in a real arena is that now Karkat has fans. Sure, some people still held their interest after whatever antics his past self had gotten up to, but it's now that he's had a real turn of his own - not the short, lackluster experience of the mini-arena - that he's proved his own worth an object of entertainment. And he hates it. After enough of getting stopped in the street or gossiped over by chatty Capitolites, Karkat has decided enough is enough and fetched himself a hooded coat. It's one of the rare few times in his life he's ever been glad to have small horns; he can yank the hood up over them no problem, hiding the flash of orange that's drawn too many eyes.
The trouble is, small horns doesn't mean no horns, and trudging around with two lumps poking his hood tends to draw attention regardless. Besides, he can't exactly hide his grey skin. But still he tries, skulking around to cafes or a particular bakery he's grown fond of, or just along the streets for fresh air and the chance to stretch his admittedly short legs. It's better to be out and about than cooped up inside, and one might find him wandering night or day now that the curfew's been lifted.
B. The Training Center
When he is in the tower, however, Karkat often finds himself down in the actual training center the place gets its name from. Much of his time in the arena was spent making the best of the pocket knife he got from the arena, and while his skills were inept and amateurish, he adapted well enough that he figures it best not to lose what little he learned. For all he knows, he might end up stuck with only a knife to his name in the future.
To that end, he takes a blade and goes at the training dumbies, testing moves and trying to remember the flow of fights he had before. It's weird when the target isn't moving (or trying to kill him), but it's the best he has available.
Other times, not wanting to lose his old skills either, he trades the knife out for the more familiar shape of a sickle. With this he is methodical and practiced, tracing over old moves - none professional or trained, but speaking of experience nonetheless.
C. District Six
But when the Capitol at large or training calls him, Karkat eventually wends his way back to his district. With the curfew gone sometime between entering and exiting the arena, the place feels less stifling to stay in. There's a TV and games, and much as he did on the nights stuck here, he pulls up something inane to take out frustrations and take up his time. RPG, FPS, fighting game, whatever--so long as a target is offered for him to mash the right buttons at, he's content to give it a shot.
D. Around the Tower/Wherever (closed to certain CR)
Lastly, Karkat has loose ends to tie up: people to check up on, friends to talk to, or even a stranger to learn more about. If he knew what floor he could find them on, he might go and knock at a door with an "Are you there?" called through. Other times, he'd be just as apt to stop someone in a hall or on the street if he ran into them. Regardless, he's intent on talking to them sooner or later.
(OOC: Karkat would want to talk to Nill, Terezi, Dave, the Initiate, the Signless, and Shepard post arena. Feel free to have him run into your character wherever, or feel free to contact me if you want to arrange something specific.)
What| Dealing with aftermath of the arena and adjusting back to Capitol life.
Where| Out in the Capitol, on the training floor, in district 6, or bugging specific people.
When| During the first week post-arena.
Warnings/Notes| Possible description of gore and death, but not likely to come up in most threads. Otherwise just Karkat's foul mouth.
A. The Capitol
The thing about fighting in a real arena is that now Karkat has fans. Sure, some people still held their interest after whatever antics his past self had gotten up to, but it's now that he's had a real turn of his own - not the short, lackluster experience of the mini-arena - that he's proved his own worth an object of entertainment. And he hates it. After enough of getting stopped in the street or gossiped over by chatty Capitolites, Karkat has decided enough is enough and fetched himself a hooded coat. It's one of the rare few times in his life he's ever been glad to have small horns; he can yank the hood up over them no problem, hiding the flash of orange that's drawn too many eyes.
The trouble is, small horns doesn't mean no horns, and trudging around with two lumps poking his hood tends to draw attention regardless. Besides, he can't exactly hide his grey skin. But still he tries, skulking around to cafes or a particular bakery he's grown fond of, or just along the streets for fresh air and the chance to stretch his admittedly short legs. It's better to be out and about than cooped up inside, and one might find him wandering night or day now that the curfew's been lifted.
B. The Training Center
When he is in the tower, however, Karkat often finds himself down in the actual training center the place gets its name from. Much of his time in the arena was spent making the best of the pocket knife he got from the arena, and while his skills were inept and amateurish, he adapted well enough that he figures it best not to lose what little he learned. For all he knows, he might end up stuck with only a knife to his name in the future.
To that end, he takes a blade and goes at the training dumbies, testing moves and trying to remember the flow of fights he had before. It's weird when the target isn't moving (or trying to kill him), but it's the best he has available.
Other times, not wanting to lose his old skills either, he trades the knife out for the more familiar shape of a sickle. With this he is methodical and practiced, tracing over old moves - none professional or trained, but speaking of experience nonetheless.
C. District Six
But when the Capitol at large or training calls him, Karkat eventually wends his way back to his district. With the curfew gone sometime between entering and exiting the arena, the place feels less stifling to stay in. There's a TV and games, and much as he did on the nights stuck here, he pulls up something inane to take out frustrations and take up his time. RPG, FPS, fighting game, whatever--so long as a target is offered for him to mash the right buttons at, he's content to give it a shot.
D. Around the Tower/Wherever (closed to certain CR)
Lastly, Karkat has loose ends to tie up: people to check up on, friends to talk to, or even a stranger to learn more about. If he knew what floor he could find them on, he might go and knock at a door with an "Are you there?" called through. Other times, he'd be just as apt to stop someone in a hall or on the street if he ran into them. Regardless, he's intent on talking to them sooner or later.
(OOC: Karkat would want to talk to Nill, Terezi, Dave, the Initiate, the Signless, and Shepard post arena. Feel free to have him run into your character wherever, or feel free to contact me if you want to arrange something specific.)
no subject
"Terezi told me..." he starts, pausing once he spots wherever the lusus has put himself. "She told me she killed you once. In the arena."
no subject
Signless, meanwhile, has taken a seat on the edge of his bed, hands folded in his lap with a tightness that betrays how very much he was not expecting what Karkat just said. He hasn't talked about that in months, perhaps almost a year. It's been in the past for so long now that to be reminded of it is almost like being told about it for the first time.
"She did, yes. My second arena, her first."
no subject
What Signless does tell him matches well enough with what he heard. Terezi said she'd been there two weeks when it happened, and if Signless was on the newer side too...
He looks up again. "What happened? I heard her side, but not yours."
He's mad at her just from that, and he's not sure how well his ancestor will do to change that, but he deserves at least his side.
no subject
"We were part of a small group attempting to survive the desert together. We didn't know each other well and at one point the subject of my past rebellion on Alternia came up. A few days later she cut my throat with a length of sharpened wire. I think her reasoning was that she worried that I might win and even more she worried that if I did I would get myself killed and drag all those associated with me down too. At that point she may have been right. I was still treating Panem like Alternia, and I hadn't yet learned to keep my head down and my mouth shut."
His tone isn't bothered; in fact, he relates this as though there's nothing much remarkable about it.
"This was all a very long time ago. I've long since forgiven her."
no subject
"She said," he starts, then stops when he realizes she never mentioned the weapon. "I thought it was a knife. She never corrected me..."
But more than that, it's strange to hear that he's forgiven her. Of course it makes sense; he's never heard of strife between them, but it all seems so easy, the way he puts it.
"She did say that, about you winning, but she said something about how Past Karkat had this--this squad or something put together to try to make you win. That if you won, you would put people in danger because of how you were, somehow, but--"
His lips twist together, and his brows do likewise above.
"She wouldn't take any blame for it, but she got mad at me for what I don't even remember doing. She wouldn't apologize, and she got mad and tried to leave when I got upset, and didn't explain until I made her, and she still tried to blame me when I didn't know a damn thing about it or what past me was thinking at all," he spills out.
no subject
"I can't speak for her, I'm sorry to say, and I can't explain to you why she acts as she does. That period in her time here was extremely stressful for her -- perhaps, because she didn't find closure with the last iteration of you, she's still seeking it now even though you can't provide it? But that's just a guess."
no subject
"I don't know. Maybe." His voice is quieter now, and he steps over to take a seat beside him. "I'm just... so frustrated is all. Things got distant between us on the meteor, and since coming here it's just one conflict after another. I worked things out about Makara--the Initiate--but the first time I speak with her out of the arena, she dumps that on me and it turns into another fight. And it's always something past me has done that starts it up, one way or another."
He runs a hand through his hair. "I just want my friend back."
no subject
"The trouble always seems to be that when you talk to her it gets away from you, correct? Perhaps you could try writing to her. Set your feelings out plain and clear. That way you can't get interrupted in the middle and dragged into an argument, and she'll have time to think of a response instead of getting defensive."
let's just gently retcon the presence of crabdad earlier
He looks away again as he thinks things over.
"I don't know. Maybe." He thinks back to their first fight about the Initiate, and thinks too about the old memos he used to make. But those were different, done in real time, not like just writing something out all at once to give her.
"I think we just keep... missing each other, somehow. We've been through different things, so she comes at me as someone who already knows all this, and I'm stuck with the bare impressions. I didn't know how Makara had changed because he just got pissed at me and left. I didn't know about any of this, but she had all that built up over however long it's been. Even if it's done and over and you've forgiven her and thought she was right, it still hurt to hear that she killed you, you know? And I'm sure you know I don't hold my tongue when I'm worked up about something."
Telling all him this isn't going to fix it with her, though, and even he knows that. He sucks in a deep breath then lets it out.
"Maybe I should write this down. So I can get it all out smoothly and together."
there was never any crabdad, ooooOOOoooOOOOOoooo
He puts a hand on Karkat's shoulder and squeezes gently.
"I hope it works. I know how much she means to you, and how much it hurts to lose a friend."
no subject
Otherwise he listens, and it's honestly validating to hear that he had the same problem with her. It's not just him, not just his own mistake, and for someone like him that means a lot.
He turns a more confident look to him. "Thanks, though. For listening and for the advice. I'll figure out something."
no subject
"You're welcome. I'll always be here to help, whenever you need it. And -- ashmates. I should probably tell you, it was just never relevant before now. The Initiate and I used to have a much more volatile relationship and while it wasn't caliginous, it was detrimental to most anyone who was close to either of us. Terezi stepped in to mediate between us and through her we reconciled our issues and became close enough to flip pale."
no subject
"Pale? With Makara?"
The rest draws no question, because it makes sense. The Initiate did tell him how he was before, but in the telling he neglected anything of the quadrants had here, save perhaps indirect implication about Terezi. But that stood mostly to their red feelings, which he already knew about.
"How come you--" His lips purse. "No. Never mind. Good luck with him," he says, and it's not a snap nor the least bit petulant. Shut up, you're imagining things.
no subject
"No, go on. How come I what? If this is something that bothers you, I'd like to address it now. Nothing good comes of letting things like this fester."
no subject
"Nothing! I don't have a problem!" His hands sweep out in a wide, open gesture. "You two can date and shoosh and pap each other all you want. It formed in its own circumstances with its own history, and who am I to but in and take issue with you dating a clown? Do what you want! You're a big, adult troll who can make his own decisions, and your Makara isn't mine, so why should I be worried about anything? He hasn't gone shoving his faith down my throat any more than normal for their ilk. There's nothing bothering me," he finishes out with yet more hand motions. His expression was probably meant to look surprised and open at some point, but the effect is rather too exaggerated to be believable.
no subject
"You don't need to tell me about it and I won't ask you to, but even if he isn't your Makara it's understandable that one would remind you of the other and you'd associate them. If that's where the issue lies -- in bad memories that seeing him call up -- I understand."
no subject
"Ugh, just stop," he grumps, because of course he refuses to fold entirely. "Don't give me that delicate handling like I'm made of glass and the wrong touch is going to shatter me into an emotionally devastated heap of shards. I'm fine, I'll be fine, and your stupid clown is your own business." His arms fold tight over his chest. "I was Gamzee's moirail for about a sweep, when he dumped me for his stupid clown cult, and went on to be the worst kind of frothy nookhole to one of my friends. That's all there is to say about it."
no subject
"Alright. If that's all there is to say then that's all there is. I just don't want to inadvertently make anything worse for you, Karkat. That's all."
no subject
"I'm going to head out. That letter to Terezi isn't going to write itself, you know?" He reaches down, gives crabdad a fond pat where he's curled up around his legs, then delicately extricates his feet. "I'll see you around."