thecapitol | Heaven's Night

Entry tags:

Heaven's Night

Who| Phil, Julian, and dear ol' Johnny Walker
What| Drinking and ~~culture clash~~ D6 possible camaraderie
Where| Central Commons Bar
When| January 11
Warnings/Notes| Alcohol Consumption and discussing the previous Arena

Phillip wasn't kidding when he invited Julian to take a few drinks with him and getting to know someone from his own District, or at least claimed ownership of the whole damn floor. His body was sore from having practiced his techniques with Sandy, clearly unused to actually fighting off his attackers. He felt...powerful, in control even. Maybe he could finally do something...That feeling went away as soon as he saw his bare arms and the scars of previous near-death experiences were visible. Phil took one look at them and sighed, "Nothing's changed, Gray."

Putting up a smile just like a tie and a nice sport jacket, Phil suppressed all those bad memories as best as he could and walked over to Julian's room. "Up and at them," he called over to this night's partner in crime. "Last time I talked to someone, it was through an answering machine, okay? I'm a little rusty but I know we don't wanna be fashionably late." Julian would be greeted by this dork of a man. The former guard figured if Julian was rich, he'd know what drinks were best.

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"It's not the pizza I'm guarding, it's the families and the animatronics," Gray explained, rubbing his eyes for a moment, to will away bad memories of the place, "It's supposed to be a happy place for family enjoyment, you know, like a poor man's Disney. "

The pause makes him smile, "Sounds like you don't have a lot of well wishes back home, huh?" Phil genuinely wished the best in people. "No sweethearts to swoon you over?"

“I didn’t know pizza places were even allowed to have animatronics. Is that really a normal thing poor people do for fun? Sounds kind of odd to me.”

“I have plenty of well wishes back home! I was very popular,” Julian protests, and even if it’s a lie, it’s still a lie he likes to believe. “No, I didn’t have any… sweathearts, but lots of people swooned over me.”

"Oh yeah! Well, Fazbear Entertainment has a few people working for them and it let the kids have a great time! They sang and played along. It was a great draw for people from all over," Even after five years of systematic survival and murder investigations, Phil still talked about the place with genuine love.

"Betcha you got Capitolites' hearts now. You're good looking! And you turn into a cat!"

“Played? Aren’t animatronics just for looking at?” Julian sounds confused, not really understanding where all Phil’s affection for the place could possibly come from. The whole thing still sounds weird to Julian.

“I don’t really care about the Capitolites,” Julian says, bitterness in his voice. He was dragged here, forced to compete in some horrible Arena, just for the entertainment of the people of the Capitol. It doesn’t make Julian want to regard them very favorably. Julian does, however, like receiving compliments, and the good looking comment removes some of the bitterness in his tone when he speaks next, “But, yes, it would be hard for me not to win their hearts with these looks. Most people do love cats, too. As they should.”

"Not Freddy and the Fazbear Gang. They were mascots and whoever built them, Cawthon was it, he wanted kids to have fun at an affordable price," Phil explained a little better, "Hope that guy's banking for his hard work."

At the hint of bitterness, the guard sighed for a bit and stared at his drink, "You have potential, Julian...I really hope you find a way to get out of being a Tribute. You're not meant to be killing someone else. You should be up there, with all the people who are probably made of money, instead of here with a wreck of a man like, um, me." There wasn't any taunting left in Phil's voice as he spoke.

“That’s certainly never something I would do as a kid,” Julian says, though a part of him thinks he might have liked it if he meant he actually got to go somewhere with his family, “But as long as the kids were happy, I guess it must have been a good enough place.”

“I’m not going to kill anyone. They can shove me in that Arena, but they can’t force me to kill someone.” For now, at least. Julian hopes it stays that way. He does agree with most of what Phil is saying, though, but the wreck part makes him frown a little, “You’re not… that bad. There’s a lot of tributes that are worse than you.” Julian really has little idea of how to reassure someone, so the words come out hesitant and he quickly goes back to taking sips of his drink.

"If you really mean that, then I was right about you," Gray smiled brighter, "You're a good man. Not like that Mott guy, you have your heart in the right place. Money or not."

With that, he took his last drink and stood up, "C'mon, is there a dance club around here or something? We should grab someone and cut a rug." Oh dear God, he's buzzed enough to think that's a good idea.

“... Good? Uh… Of course I am. Why would you even doubt that.” He looks startled for a moment, despite his words. While Julian generally likes any sort of praise, hearing he’s a good man is something new. No one’s ever really said that to him before, and while on the surface Julian will brag about himself for days, deep down he doesn’t really believe he’s a good person. The startled look is gone quickly though, replaced by another smug look as he says, “Mott? You mean Dandy? Yes, he’s the farthest thing from good. Everyone is better than him.”

“I’m sure there is one but it’s probably full of Capitol people.” Julian’s looking at Phil like he’s lost all sense of good judgment. Even taking the Capitol people aside, Julian’s never really liked clubs. They were too loud for his sensitive hearing, and there were always too many overwhelming scents. Now that his senses are within human realms though, Julian supposes that’s not much of a concern. “Cut a rug? Who actually uses that saying anymore?” Apparently Phil, and it makes Julian laugh a little even if he’s still looking at Phil like he’s crazy.

"He seems like a man lost and without purpose. I mean, the happiest things for him are either model trains or the Capitol, sounds like a shallow life," Phil added with a hint of pity towards Dandy. "I mean there's crying and then, there's that performance. Have you fought with him before?"

At that swipe, the guard laughed, "I do! C'mon, you can't tell me you haven't enjoyed old movies and not picked up some phrases along the way." Sometimes Phil could be a ball of cheerful snark and this was one of those times. Probably all the whiskey he drank. "Have you ever just take a load of and act your age?" Having lost half a decade, the man was behind on the times. "Or would you rather grab a bottle to go and sit on a balcony and wax philosophical?" At least Julian could count on him as his friend on and off the Arena.

“He seems like an idiot, that’s what he seems like,” Julian says, not willing to give any sort of pity towards Dandy, “... Performance? What performance? No, I haven’t fought with him. I didn’t even see him in the Arena.”

“I do so act my age!” It probably doesn’t hold much weight when the protest comes out sounding as whiney as it does. “There are just certain expectations you have to uphold when you’re as wealthy as I am.” There weren’t very many, in Julian’s case, but he had still avoided doing things he thought might disappoint his father. He sighs, finishes off his drink, and says, “I would rather do neither.” But despite his words, and even though he’s still looking at Phil like he’s lost all proper judgment, Julian still stands up.

Gray kept his grin and sidestepped at this small accusation, "Then what do you wanna do? The night's still young and we're just getting buzzed. You need to relax...you're in good company."

At least, the guard thought he was. Was he trying too hard to be welcoming? "Did I overstep myself?" Phil rubbed his eyes for a second. "You can tell me if you think so."

Edited 2015-01-28 03:55 (UTC)

“I’m plenty relaxed,” he grumbles, and while it’s true in comparison to how tense he usually is, the set of his shoulders is enough to completely disprove that statement. “How drunk are you planning on getting?” He asks, some amusement coming back into his expression, and after a pause he shrugs. “The balcony idea was all right. Let’s just go to the rooftop instead.”

“No, you’re… okay…” Plenty of people had been civil to him back home, but there hadn’t been very many people that were quite so friendly. It’s not unwelcomed, but Julian’s still unused to it, and it leaves him unsure of how to handle it. He’s not going to admit to that though, so he just waves a hand. “I’ll let you know if you’re being annoying.”

The question makes Phil take a deep breath in, "I wanted to hit that sweet spot that I can still walk to my room, and when I get there, I pass out til the next day. My sleeping clock needs a reset and lately, I, uh, I've been needing help."

That, and he's starting to have a bit of survivor's guilt. He was here...Mike and Jeremy weren't. Fritz got out all right, he didn't last a night. Though it was nice to hear Julian give him the head's up. "I'll make sure to keep an ear out then." As he asked for a bottle of whiskey and wine to go, Phil listed Julian as a person to help out in the arena if they ever ran into each other.

“Well, you better hope you can still walk back, because if you can’t I’m leaving you on the rooftop.” Julian doesn’t really mean it though, even he isn’t heartless enough to leave some drunk person out in the cold. The passing out part and mention of sleeping problems makes Julian fidget. He has his own sleeping issues here, mostly attributed to not being able to sleep as a cat, but that doesn’t mean he feels anymore comfortable talking about it.

As soon as Phil has the wine and whiskey in hand, Julian’s heading for the elevator, and after they’ve both gotten in and Julian’s pushed the top button he finally asks, “Do they have sleeping pills here? Those could help… I guess.”

"I can try walking," Gray assured him then leaned against the elevator wall. He closed his eyes for a second, to let the filtered air enter his lungs and comfort him. The Tower didn't smell of day old pizza and old blood so it was nice to enjoy it for a while.

"I think so but maybe you need them more than I do. I've been handling the insomnia and the panic atta-" Wait, "I mean, screwy circadian cycles for five years now. This is old hat." Phillip tried to salvage the situation he'd created, though he wasn't that worried that Bradds knew about it. He was strangely okay with this brat over Dandy, mostly because Julian, for his cat form and everything, seemed the most human out of either of them.

As soon as they reach the roof, the guard rubs his eyes and takes a deep breath. The Tower's horizons were something to behold for the relatively new arrival as he took in the night sky. "Whoa," he croaked out, "T-to be honest, I've never been to a city this big before. I used to live in a medium sized town, you could still see stars in the sky." He could count with his fingers the nights he was able to do that after taking the night shift. Julian may see Phil become years younger as he smiled and remembered better times.

"You could fall asleep to the low hum of the street generator or the crickets outside. Pops and I, we had a little treehouse...mom hated it but pops wanted me to have the full outdoors experience and let me sleep there with my sleeping bag. I got one hell of a cold and missed school but it was amazing. Did you and your dad go out like that? Probably to some exotic locale."

Julian catches enough of the word to know what Phil was about to say, no matter how hard he tries to turn the situation around. He’d been watching the floor number steadily go up, but at the mention of panic attacks he turns to look a Phil, eyebrows furrowed as he tries to decide what to do with that bit of information. Asking about it directly is too uncomfortable for Julian, so instead he asks, “Five years? Is that how long you worked at the pizza place?”

“Figures you’d be one of those small town people,” Julian says, medium-sized the same as small to him, as he walks to edge of the roof, so he can lean against the ledge there. “I’m from a big city. I’m used to the lack of stars.” It still didn’t make the skyline view from the rooftop all that familiar. While it had the big city feel, it had none of the landmarks Julian was familiar with, but it was nice to pretend for a while maybe he was just on vacation somewhere.

“Why would you sleep outdoors when the indoors was right there?” He catches the smile Phil has on out of the corner of his eye though, and it so it makes Julian sound more curious than judgemental. The question makes Julian pause, as he never really got to do all that much with his dad. His dad was successful, and with that came the price of being busy most of the time, not being able to be around all that much. His dad still loved him despite that, Julian knows that, but it still stings a little no matter how hard he tries not to let it, and Julian clears his throat to avoid letting any hurt show in his voice.

“I got to go out on a boat on a lake with my dad when I was younger. We didn’t get to stay too long, but it was fun. When I was older he took me on some of his business trips to Europe.” Which the only time Julian really got to hang out with his dad was during the flight, but they still got to watch movies together so Julian counts it.

"Five years of surviving and not just talking about the minimum wage paycheck," Gray looked out the skyline, "Technically I've been working ten years, they simply changed the name of the place. At first, I really enjoyed myself and had a favorite bot and everything. And then the murders started happening. A man started killing children over at the restaurant...then the guards. I stuck around to help out, took the night shift and began to investigate." There were details he left out because who'd believe the Ghost story?

At the swipe about being small-town, Phil laughed almost embarrassed about that, "Is it that obvious I'm some hooey?" That and the unironic use of 'cut a rug'. "I slept in the outdoors because I wanted to experience it. There was a small cluster of trees outside, and mom said she spotted foxes around. I just had to see them, you know? Pops believed in that a kid should experience the world..." A hint of sadness took over the stupor, "I never got to do the same. Never got to be a dad myself."

As he heard Julian talk about his father, the guard sat down and offered a spot for his friend do so. "Your dad worked a lot didn't he?" He'd seen parents who worked themselves to the bone but showed their love for their child.

“What kind of sick person kills children.” A look of disgust crosses Julian’s face to match the repulsion in his voice. “Why did you have to investigate? Shouldn’t the police have done that? Were they inept at their job or something?”

Julian snickers a little, “Yes, it is. Saying hooey just makes it even more obvious.” He still doesn’t really get the whole sleeping outdoors thing, despite Phil’s explanation, but Julian just figures it’s another weird poor people thing. “You can have children when you get back. The people here will get bored of us eventually. They’ll send us back home.” At least that’s the belief Julian is holding onto, no matter how untrue it may be.

“Yes, he did. It’s to be expected when you own as many things as he did.” Taking the seat offered, he fiddles with the arms of his jacket, still trying not to look upset. “But he bought me a lot of things, so it doesn’t matter.”

"They had the wrong man, Bradds, they convicted someone else and let the real killer walk. They didn't want to listen to what I had to say because they thought my testimony was tainted or some other shit," the alcohol was taking effect as Phil's facade began to waver between the way he'd started out and letting everything spill.

That brief sense of hope vanished for Phillip as he remembered what exactly was happening the moment he was reaped. "I go home to die, I stay here to die," he let out, "I owe the Capitol my life, whether I like it or not. If it wasn't for their reaping, I'd be dead." There wasn't much gratitude left in him but he had to smile a little, "At least I got to meet people like you Julian."

At that fiddling, he put his hand over Julian's shoulders, "Things aren't everything. You love your dad and I betcha he loves you just as fiercely. He worked to give you the best he could." His grin became genuine and impish, "It's why I like you better than Dandy even if you two are in the same social strata."

“Why would they think your testimony was tainted? That doesn’t make any sense. You’re just a pizza guard.” And even if Phil’s already explain he didn’t guard the pizza, Julian’s forever going to call him that.

“You were… dead? Oh.” Julian knows if he died back home, he wouldn’t really want to talk about it, but he still can’t help but ask, “Did the killer get you? Because you were… investigating?” The last part makes him pause, catching him by surprise, because truthfully he doesn’t see what he really has to offer here with no money. But Julian doesn’t like to be honest about that sort of thing, not even to himself, so instead he boasts, “Yes, well it would be an honor to meet someone as great as me.”

Julian stares at the hand on his shoulder for a moment, not really used to comforting gestures unless they’re awkward pats on the back from his dad, but he doesn’t shrug it off. “Of course my dad loves me. That’s why he bought me everything I wanted.” And since Julian’s dad really only knew how to express his affection through money and other materialistic things, that’s one of the only ways Julian knew he actually did love him. “So, yes, you could say things are everything. They’re how you get stuff done and solve problems.”

He rolls his eyes at the mention of Dandy, though the impish grin is enough to bring some slight amusement into his expression too. “It’s good to see you’re judgement isn’t impaired, but just so you know, I’m in a higher social strata than Dandy.”

"I was a witness in finding the bodies and had a bias towards that particular person." The term pizza guard was endearing now as it was a mutual understanding. "I saw him so many times around the place, smiling towards the kids in a way that I, a grown-ass adult, felt uncomfortable with."

The questions about his death were innocent enough but it was still something Phil struggled with. He nodded at the first but, "No, he didn't kill me. Remember the robots I was telling you about? They did it. You see, at night," and Gray wanted to tell the truth, he struggled with the lie, "they see the human guards as endoskeletons without costumes, and that's against the rules. So they force the person into a suit that's not empty but in fact full of hydraulics and sharp edges. The only things that survive all that are the eyes and teeth. I had a bad night." Understatement of the century. "I was about to be stuffed when I got knocked out...next thing I know, I'm here."

To hear the young man speak so proudly of such shallow things, Phil pictured a man who worked himself to the bone to provide for his boy and had no way of showing it. "Fair enough. We can agree to disagree on that topic...though I don't blame your dad. I'd give my kid the universe if I could. Every star in the sky? His or hers." Maybe it was the alcohol but for a moment, Phil mused, "I wonder if I'll find someone here."

The snipes at their fellow Tributes made Phillip laugh uproariously, "You really despise him don't you! No playdates for you, that's for sure." He fell back in his fit, "All I ask you, please don't start your war before 9 am! I'd really appreciate it!"

“What scum,” Julian mutters when Phil talks about the killer, but he’s quiet for a while after he hears the details of Phil’s death. It’s not that he doesn’t believe him, but it’s a lot of gruesome details to take in, and Julian feels vaguely nauseated.

“Shit… that’s…” He doesn’t know what he could say to hearing all of that though, doesn’t know what he could possibly say to make Phil feel better, so he just doesn’t bother to try and instead asks, “Why not destroy the robots then? They made the kids happy, but was that really worth guards dying for? There’s lots of other things that can make kids happy.”

“I suppose you could find someone. Might be kind of hard with the whole Arena thing.” It’s hard for him to even mention the Arena without some sort of bitterness in his voice. “But even if you can’t go back home, it’s not like you’re stuck here forever. There’s a bunch of different worlds apparently. I’m sure when they get bored of us all they could send you some place different but similar. Like home but without the killer robots and sick murderers.”

“This is not a laughing matter! He’s really annoying! I wonder if we can sign a petition and get him kicked out.” Despite his protest that it isn’t funny, Phil falling back makes him smile, and he laughs a little before he has to remind himself that, no, this is serious business. “I’m not the one you have to talk about 9 am to. He’s the one that starts everything. Take it up with him.”

"They wouldn't stay down. We tried everything short of dumping cement on them. And yet, no one was supposed to know about the deaths," Phil closed his eyes and allowed himself to smile at the fonder memories. He hummed a little song Freddy Fazbear used to sing for the kids before his passing joy disappeared, "Those machines, according to management, were worth more than every guard's life. And believe me, I learned how to fake a missing person's report after the fourth."

"In the great words of Ian Malcolm, life will find a way," Gray then turned to Julian with a grin, resting his head on a hand. "It'd be nice to dream without nightmares, to have someone wake up next to me then grab some coffee."

He kept laughing at the ludicrous idea of sending Mott to another floor, "This is going to bite us in the ass and I don't care!" That was him without inhibitions, "Wonder what District will take him, huh Mr. Cat-Bradds?"

“No one should have to die for some machines. And you shouldn’t have had to fake any reports. Management was an idiot. They didn’t know how to do anything right.” Julian doesn’t really get how Phil can be humming, doesn’t understand how he can’t be getting angry, so he asks, “Aren’t you mad at management?”

“I don’t know who Ian Malcolm is, but, yes, sure.” The next part makes Julian raise an eyebrow, but he sounds more amused than anything else when he says, “You’ve been reading too many romance novels.” For most people, what Phil said wouldn’t be out of the ordinary, but Julian’s experience with ‘romance’ is having people use him for his money or status, so that’s what he considers normal. “Though I suppose those things are probably different when you’re poor.”

“Hopefully the one that’s far away as possible, like District 12, but any of them will do as long as it’s not ours.” Julian pauses, and then sighs, looking as if his life is extremely hard. “Probably no one will take him though. Maybe we can barricade him in his room instead.”

"I am livid actually, and the mere thought that the place may have shut down after my death brings me so much more satisfaction. I made peace with all that, Jules. It's the dead kids that have me worried," the guard explained, "They never got peace."

Gray sat up at that remark, "Rich or poor, money's great but having that contact with another person, lean over them," his mind had a particular person filling that role. A person he had no chance in his life to ever be with but his heart was set on her. "Man, I would give practically anything to have that again. I used to have one-night stands but it wasn't the same. I paid for that kinda touch, it wasn't real."

But the goofy smile came back, "He belongs in the Capitol. He must be with his people and eat cupcakes or something. Leave plebians like me to fight for their entertainment."

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