thecapitol | Funnel Cake Crowning

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Funnel Cake Crowning

Who| Gary Epps and the Signless
What| Signless has won Arena 12 and Gary decides to uphold an old offer to celebrate. Because everyone likes amusement parks, right?
Where| Pier Twelve Carnivale and Arcade
When| Within a few days after the end of Arena 12
Warnings/Notes| Discussion of events from the Arena, being violently ill after riding one too many roller coasters, probably language

The Signless can't say that Gary didn't warn him.

It was only a matter of time before he found the opportunity to take his short troll friend to the amusement park on the pier--rather, a matter of Gary's paltry attention span. It's been months since he made that promise to take him out. Only the announcement of Signless winning the twelfth Arena is able to dredge the memory back, and once he runs into him passing through the Commons, Gary makes it his mission. He instantly drops his plans for the afternoon and tells Signless to put something comfortable on, because they're going to be doing a lot of walking. That is, if Gary gives Signless that much time. Otherwise he's dragged out of the Tribute Center and onto the next bus to the waterfront.

Gary seems quite pleased with himself when the arrive. He steps through the main ticket booth and hops on top of a bench in the middle of the boardwalk, arms spread wide over the backdrop of gravity-defying rides and lines of fried snacks stalls. "This," Gary declares with a flourish, "is an amusement park! No one's ruined the surprise before I found you, have they?"

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As Gary's mouth is now thoroughly involved with the turkey leg, he can't answer directly. The Signless gets an emphatic nod and a few excited mumbles to match while Gary waves the plastic rifle around in a rather alarming disregard for the deadly weapon it's designed from. Then he's shoving it in his companion's direction. Go on! It's a two-person game! Gary's hands are about to be full again, anyways, as he's got the turkey leg in his mouth and is reaching for the second rifle. He will accept no excuses.

You know what, sure. This is going to be the first time he's ever held a gun, it might as well be a plastic one. He takes it in one hand, having transferred the turkey leg to the other for safekeeping, and eyes up the game.

"So the goal is to shoot as many as possible," he says, less because he honestly couldn't figure that out and more to reaffirm it with himself. "Seems like the sort of game they'd like here."

As it turns out his aim is abysmal, though that may be because he's trying to shoot one-handed.

The Signless is in good company, then, because even though Gary has jammed the turkey leg between his elbows so he can nibble on it while still using both hands, his hand-eye coordination is not excellent. To make up for this, he cheats. Every few seconds he looks over to check if the Signless is taking a shot, and then leans in and roughly bumps into his shoulder to try and jar his sights.

Wow, Gary, he sees how it is. Eventually out of necessity he starts fighting back, glancing sideways to keep track of when Gary is going to try and bump him and heading him off with a shoulder-shove of his own. Is this what friendship is? Because if so, he's enjoying it immensely. It's silly, and that means it's taking his mind off of the less-silly things he's been having to deal with lately.

It's not enough to help him catch up, though, and by the end of the game Gary's score far outweighs his.

"Well. Congratulations. What do you win?"

And now the Signless has become intimately familiar with how Gary deals with all of his problems. By the end he's nearly forgotten the actual game in favor of the improvised shoving one, laughing the entire way, and seems quite surprised to realize that it's ended and he's won something.

"Damn straight!" But it's a quick recovery. There's a bundle of large stuffed animals sitting under the ticket counter; Gary lurches over it and grabs one at random (some kind of neon orange big cat of ambiguous species), before the game's attendant can start listing them off, then he grabs Signless's arm and herds him away before anything too drastic can come of this decision. The turkey leg goes back in his mouth for easier transportation purposes, and as a convenient excuse not to explain himself.

Eventually, once they've covered some ground to the deeper parts of the amusement park, Gary stops gnawing on his food long enough to speak. "That was the warmup," he says. "Do they have roller coasters where you're from?"

Yyyyes. There is one impression Signless is getting from all of this and it's that Gary Epps is easily distracted. In Panem where dwelling too long on certain things can be crippling, that might be a good thing.

"Roller coaster?" he says, in the disjointed way of someone saying a word they've never heard before. So, probably not, no.

"Unless we call them something else, not that I'm aware of."

This is the perfect outcome. Gary's grin widens around his turkey leg.

"Oh man." This is the look of someone who knows exactly what kind of disaster this can turn into and is looking forward to watching every second of it. "Okay, follow me. Prepare your butt."

Once again, Gary is grabbing Signless's arm and taking him on a trip through the amusement park. They go in deep this time--past the stands, past the gentle rides, running through the pier and taking shortcuts that are clearly indicative of someone that's taken this path many times before. The roller coaster is hard to miss; it looms over the whole park on its floating supports well before they actually reach the line. Plenty of time for the Signless to realize what's going on.

"Prepare my --" Wait, you know what, no. He's not going to ask why his butt needs to be prepared or exactly how he's supposed to go about doing it. He has a feeling he's about to experience something and too many unneeded questions will tarnish that experience.

"That's a roller coaster," he says, with a tone that is equal parts realization and resignation. He has indeed started to realize what's going on and, like everything else he's experienced today, he doesn't know quite what to think of it. "And you... ride it."

That much is obvious from just looking at it and at the cars full of people currently zooming around on the tracks. What's the point in riding something and not ever going anywhere? Humans are weird.

"Of course you ride it, you dummy!" Gary says, coming to the brilliant realization that Signless did just moments ago. He's slowed considerably now as they slip in line (through a suspicious gap in front of someone that doesn't appear to be paying attention to his spot, which Gary takes to mean that he doesn't care about someone stealing it), mostly out of necessity, retroactively so that he has more time to let it all soak in. "They strap you into these cars, and then whoosh!"

This is the part where Gary makes appropriate 'whoosh'-ing gestures with his hands.

"We might have to check your height, though--maybe they'll count your horns? I dunno," Gary shrugs, then aims a firm pat on the Signless's shoulder. "But don't worry, I'll vouch for ya!"

"Hm." He looks up at the zooming metal thing with only a little trepidation. Logically he's faced scarier. He's not all that frightened of it -- he's more uncertain about exactly why it's a thing in the first place.

The line shuffles forward a little at the time but it brings him no closer to an epiphany.

"So what exactly is the goal?" he finally says, when they're just a person or two away from the gate (and the sign that demonstrates the required height, which he's pleased to see he meets).

That doesn't sound like a very enthusiastic response, which has Gary a little disheartened. He's sure Signless will come around after he's had a turn. Obviously he just lacks the experience to understand how perfect roller coasters are--or, as he discovers when they're just about to get on, he's just thinking about them way too hard. Gary laughs appropriately.

"The goal is--" he's cut off for a moment while the vendor checks his credit card, Gary motions for the both of them, and he guides Signless to a set of open seats near the front of the train, "--you hold on for dear life and see who can scream the loudest."

This is the point where the safety bars come down and lock into place. Gary is squirming in place with excitement and clearly oblivious to everything else.

That doesn't seem like a goal that is at all synonymous with 'fun', but then, the humans here all think 'fun' is watching children murder each other.

Maybe humans just have a strange idea of what fun is in general, Signless thinks as the safety bar locks in front of him and the cars start moving up the incline. Instinctively he grabs onto the bar with one hand, though he gets the impression he's supposed to have them both in the air.

Of course he's extremely glad he decided to hold onto something once the ride starts proper. It's like being picked up and violently shaken by some very angry subjugglator. He realizes about halfway through that he's been shouting since it started, mostly wordless noises of distress and the occasional uncharacteristic curse. This is the time for it if there ever was one.

And yet... it is fun. Against all possible odds, Gary has not steered him wrong.

Of course Gary hasn't steered him wrong! Gary knows his adrenaline rushes and he knows that this roller coaster provides one of the best (that is, for someone looking for an adrenaline rush in the first place, and who wouldn't be?). Based on his companion's reaction to it, he's once again made an excellent choice. Gary would have never guessed that the Signless knew such colorful words. He reacts to the ride accordingly of course, yelling with his arms in the air and goading people on at the tops of tall hills just before they drop, pulling a face and putting rabbit ears behind Signless's head at the photo section. It's all gone very well, in his estimation! Sure, they've eaten a little too much before getting on and by the third consecutive loop or so Gary's starting to feel kind of ill, but this is a necessary, trivial risk, and one he can deal with when the ride's over.

When they finally come to a stop at the station, Gary decides that the threat of being sick is not such an immediate one that he can't check in on Signless first. He turns to him with a wide, breathless grin. "Yeah? Good??"

And then there's also a heavy slap on his back, for good measure.

'Good' is not the word he'd use. 'Nauseous' is a little closer, and the slap on his back only makes it worse. He offers Gary a weak smile and nod because he doesn't trust himself to talk (and he's a little talked-out after going through twice his daily quota of cursing in the past five minutes).

He does pretty well, all things considered. He makes it out of the cars and off the tracks before he actually throws up. Bye, single bite of butter and bacon. Bye, funnel cake. Bye, turkey leg. He hardly knew ye.

"We... may have done all that in the wrong order," he says.

This is pretty good--much better than Gary expected Signless to take it, anyways, good enough that he's thoroughly fooled into thinking that his troll companion is going to hold his lunch after all. He grins back, strides out of line and out front, ready to lead the Signless on another circuit of the park, when he hears the unmistakable retch of failure and disappointment behind him. Gary hops out of his way with some alarm.

"Aw--man! Gross." He frowns and anxiously brushes off his sides, as if trying to remove any invisible artifacts of sick from his clothes, but it's more a nervous habit than an actual sign of disdain or disappointment. Gary's laughing, still, a little apologetically by the time the shock wears off. "Well...at least now you're not full anymore and you can go again? Yeah?"

There is something quietly hopeful glimmering in Gary's eyes, even though he's pretty sure Signless will want to just go home by now. The point where throwing up becomes a thing is usually the point where festivities start to wind down.

That gets a laugh out of Signless that could, perhaps, be mistaken for a cough. Or maybe it's a cough that could be mistaken for a laugh, it's hard to tell. His throat has been through a lot today.

"Again?" he says, straightening up and for lack of a better option wiping his mouth on the back of his sleeve. "I... maybe. But not right now. I need a few minutes to be sure I can stay upright."

This is fair and is the response Gary was expecting, even though he didn't want to hear it. He frowns, though the gesture is clearly exaggerated for teasing purposes.

"Alright, fine. Spoil-sport." Huff. Gary waves Signless onwards, back down the pier, but hangs back in case he actually does need a sturdy support on the way. The mess they've left goes ignored for the park staff to take care of. "If you promise not to puke on my shoes, maybe I'll get you some ice cream on the way out."

"Sweet of you. I'd appreciate some water more, I think, but ice cream would wash the taste out just as well."

It's incredible. Almost two years in Panem, eight deaths, countless horrors witnessed, and what finally gets him to lose his lunch is a combination of a roller coaster and a cube of butter. It's surreal.

And it's the kind of humor he could use right now.

"This really has been fun, Gary. Thank you. I needed it."

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Funnel Cake Crowning

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cw vomit

maybe we can finally wrap this up, can you imagine

what a weird thought

we're gonna do it we're gonna end the thing

i... i think it's done....