shenunigans: (pic#5842765)
Dave Strider ([personal profile] shenunigans) wrote in [community profile] thecapitol2015-01-09 01:41 pm

City never sleeps so I guess I never slept on.

Who| Dave and Feferi, Gary, Clara and Steve.
What| Punchy is "dead", Dave needs to deal with it.
Where| D9, D11
When| Spanning over the week after the Panem Nightly post.
Warnings/Notes| Talkin' about murder.

It's hard to process real death after being surrounded by fake death for so long. It's like switching from lite milk to full cream, because it's doing something to his stomach. But then, processing infers some level of understanding or acceptance. Dave didn't talk to anyone when the cheery presenters woefully announced that his friend was dead. It's not the first time he's disappeared, it's not the first time anyone's disappeared, but it's different this time.

They're just lying. They're probably lying. There's no reason to believe them, but there's no reason not to, either. Punchy is gone, he isn't in his room and he isn't staggering back into the commons no matter how long Dave sits around on the couches and pretends the News got it wrong.

It shouldn't be this hard anymore, but it feels like there's a vice around his chest when he thinks about it. There's sad irony in the fact that the guy reminded him so vividly of his Bro, then they got close, then he died. It's hilarious, really, that all of his foundations are starting to crumble slowly or very rapidly and he doesn't know how to handle it anymore.

Maybe he owes it to Punchy to feel something, or show something, but it's easier to be mindless and numb about all of this. He doesn't drink or party, he just deals with it. He's either sleeping all day or awake all hours and when anyone sees him, he's fronting. Trying too hard to be over it too fast.
aboveangrybees: by <user name="famira"> (133)

[personal profile] aboveangrybees 2015-01-10 10:13 am (UTC)(link)
Steve has been noticing that Dave's off lately, more reclusive, which is rather out of the ordinary for him. Being soon after the arena, it would be easy to assume it had to do with that - rough arenas happen, so did losing people who don't come back (that one Steve knows well), but Steve keeps a closer eye on the boy than that. No, he's seen Punchy and Dave hang out from time to time and who didn't see their tragic moment in the Children's Arena.

He had an notion that the recent murder and Dave's reclusiveness were related.

So, Steve's almost surprised to see Dave in the kitchen. For a long moment, he just silently watches the boy tinker with his glasses, debating giving the boy space or approaching him. It's not a long debate as Steve moves to Dave's side, taking the apple juice and pouring the boy a glass.

"Fixing or tuning up?" He grabs the chair besides Dave, pulling it out and away to the side - giving Dave space while still close by - and sits.
aboveangrybees: by <user name="easycompany"> (006)

[personal profile] aboveangrybees 2015-02-02 08:29 am (UTC)(link)
As often as Dave tries to act cool, he's never been cold to Steve. So when the cold reply comes, Steve's eyebrows arch up before he can school his expression, honestly surprised by it, but not in the slightest put off or offended. Steve's dealt with a lot worse than what Dave putting forward, but as the boy continues on, Steve figures it might not have been entirely intentional. A hurt automatic response.

He gives a little smile when Dave says they won't go out of style and Steve can't help but agree in a way. They seem a part of who Dave is, so it's less a style thing and more they'll always fit on him.

"More like you're up late. It's after five," Steve is always up and out the door by six, though he doesn't see that happening today. Concern pulls at his mind that Dave so obviously lost track of time.

Steve leans forward a little, his expression open and earnest. "You must have a lot going on up there for a timelord to lose track of time."
a_minute_younger: (huh)

[personal profile] a_minute_younger 2015-01-09 09:57 pm (UTC)(link)
Gary thinks he's starting to understand what's going on here. Whatever it is, he knows he doesn't like it.

The normal level of distraction isn't quite enough, but he's sure as hell trying his hardest to make it work. There's music blaring over the speakers in the common area, as there has been since early that morning, the flat screen is on and equally loud on a level of a bright and aggressively flashy racing game, combining to create an incomprehensible cacophony of noise that rattles the walls and the furniture. Gary is in the middle of it, kneeling on the couch with a controller clutched in his hands and a bag of chips strewn over the cushions. His eyes are glossed over. Bruiser and Rasputin the tribbles are huddled next to him, but their coos are drowned in the racket.

So is the sound of Dave entering. It's not until he's practically sitting next to him that Gary sees him out of the corner of his eye, leaps up, drops the controller and spreads his arms wide. "Dave!" Bro hug incoming. Gary's expression is enthusiastic but forced, decidedly haunted--it might be in Dave's best interest not to turn him away. "What's happening? You want some chips?"
a_minute_younger: (Hello!)

[personal profile] a_minute_younger 2015-01-15 06:02 pm (UTC)(link)
The offer for chips appears to be cursory; as soon as he lets go and offers, Gary is already reaching for the stragglers and shoving them in his mouth before he gives Dave the chance, and is already moving on to the next set of niceties in the ritual of introduction. Niceties are a distraction. Gary likes distractions.

"Mmph," he says with an emphatic nod, which is probably an attempt at saying that it's okay for Dave not to be hungry. He finishes his mouthful of chips at some point after he bends over to grab his controller. "What'cha up to? Wanna play some--" Gary looks up and realizes that the racing game is still going and he's long since crashed into last place. He pauses the game. Some of the background noise abruptly ceases, allowing for the purrs of the tribbles to be heard as they snuggle against Dave's thigh. "--whatever the fuck this game is? Came out last week, I think. The courses are based on the last Arena! Isn't that neat? They even update the rosters in real-time!"

His face goes a bit pale.
a_minute_younger: (uh)

[personal profile] a_minute_younger 2015-01-20 10:48 pm (UTC)(link)
Dave seems to be better about actually getting to the point than Punchy was. Or maybe it's just the gravity of the situation that's motivating him--either way, Gary doesn't think he likes this. He picks up the second tribble and holds it close to his chest.

"...Good stuff. Right?" Not about the fact that he's dead, or how the rebels that were supposed to be helping apparently killed him. Good. Things. Gary's mouth twitches into a desperate smile to encourage this.

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seestheman: (With every breath that I am worth)

[personal profile] seestheman 2015-01-09 06:43 am (UTC)(link)
The past few days have been overwhelming to say the least. Between being hounded about the fact that one of her Tributes (never mind the fact that Carlos had been here longer than her. No, she was his District's Mentor and thus made him her responsibility somehow) had been responsible for destroying the Arena and hearing the news about Punchy, she's mentally and emotionally exhausted and would love to be able to just curl up in her room with a lot of wine, more Ben and Jerry's than is healthy for any one person, and an endless amount of tissues for a few days.

Instead, she heads down to District 9 to find Dave. Just the concept of having someone who understands, especially someone who she's close to, seems better than mourning alone. She's a little surprised to see Dave sleeping in the common area, but at least she sees him right away instead of having to ask around the floor for him.

There's a temptation to sit on the same couch he's sleeping on. To let him rest his head against her leg and gently brush through his hair with her fingers like she's done with David so many times. But she resists, settling to slide his sunglasses off and put them on the table so he doesn't smoosh them against his face.

When Dave wakes up, she's sitting in one of the overstuffed armchairs nearby, reading some gossip rag with her and Rose's picture splashed on the front with a scandalous headline. At the sound of his voice, she closes the magazine before looking up at him, trying to ignore the way the bionic eye shifts from reading mode to whatever the regular mode is. "Afternoon," she says with a teasing tone that makes her feel like an asshole a moment later. "You're you holding up?"
seestheman: (Drowning in regrets)

[personal profile] seestheman 2015-01-17 12:26 pm (UTC)(link)
Even if being a mentor sucks and it hurts to sit on the sidelines and watch your friends fight to the death, Clara would still give anything to swap her and Dave's place to get him out. It's selfish, of course, because she doesn't want to see Dave (or anyone else, if she can help it) die again and can't help but think that things were just so much easier when she was fighting for her life.

Clara's familiar with that quiet. It's like the way it felt in the days following the bombing, or the way it felt when she walked into her parents house for the first time after her father died. Not that she's going to say that out loud because Dave doesn't need to hear about that right now (or ever, really). "I know," she says softly, trying to figure out what else to say. As if out of instinct, she reaches out and rubs his back, trying not to think about the fact that she did something like this was with David after one of his nightmares. "You get used to the quiet, eventually. Or find something else to focus on to fill the void."
seestheman: (If I lose everything in the fire)

[personal profile] seestheman 2015-01-21 09:18 am (UTC)(link)
Clara knows a lot of the tricks to hide the fact that someone's crying. Hell, she's perfected put them into practice at home so David, or her mother, or Jack, or any well wishers who tried to comfort her, or any of the cameras that began to hound her and her son wouldn't see her at her most vulnerable. She understands that Dave feels like he needs to hide his sorrow.

Instead, she chooses not to let him. She can't be sure if it's out of a maternal fear that he'll drown in his hurt or that she's hurting too and just wants to cling to someone who understands, but she gently pulls him off of the chair's arm into her lap before she reaches out to cup his cheek with her flesh and blood hand. She looks on the verge of crying, as much as she doesn't want to do so in front of him.

"We both know that isn't true. There's no shame in mourning a loss," she says as she gently rubs at his cheek with her fingers. "You shouldn't hide from these things, it'll only make it hurt more."

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fintastic: (awkwarrrrrd)

[personal profile] fintastic 2015-01-09 03:32 pm (UTC)(link)
Although Feferi hasn't completely cracked the enigma that is Dave Strider, she knows enough about him from the past two months to tell when he's deflecting. And he has definitely been deflecting. When she was trying to avoid him, it was hard not to catch glimpses of him out of the corner of her eye, and now that she's been looking for him since their little post-Arena talk, she's seen neither hide nor hair of him. He's not missing, just absent.

She gets someone to let her in, so that she can slip into Dave's room without rousing him from staring at... whatever is so interesting on the ceiling. She lingers near the doorway, hands folded behind her back and dressed just as simply. There's nothing that screams Capitol about a plain magenta t-shirt and denim skirt, except for maybe the Pisces symbol Bedazzled into one of her back pockets, and she'd like to keep it that way as much as possible.

"Hey. On the way up I was thinking, for Feferi bingo, trying to get into one of the aquarium displays should be on there." She doesn't know how else to break the ice. "Not that I am saying I have tried that more than one. Or twice. Or eight times..."
fintastic: (you'll take it and like it)

[personal profile] fintastic 2015-01-12 05:15 am (UTC)(link)
"I wouldn't mind having someone to come with me." Feferi invites herself to a seat on the edge of the bed, now that he's sat up and noticed her. Thankfully he isn't as naked as she presumed he would be. "So why don't you tell me what's bothering you. I know something's up."

She just doesn't know what. Was it losing the arena? Losing his powers again? Something else? Feferi can't even begin to guess, but she can be here to listen. He's only her fake boyfriend, but he's still her very real friend.
fintastic: (calmly culling)

[personal profile] fintastic 2015-01-16 08:20 pm (UTC)(link)
"All I need to do that is a mirror." Mutual Karkat heckling, good. That's a good sign, right? She guesses that if Dave still has it in him to joke around, then there's some hope for picking him up out of this funk. But if he thinks she's going to just back off with that kind of lame excuse, he hasn't been paying much attention at all.

"Now I know it not just that." She shifts closer, within arm's reach, to reach out and fuss with his hair, trying to put some stray strands back in place, as much as he'll let her. "So you can either tell me what's bothering you, or you can let me hassle you for a while longer until you give up and tell me."

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