[Open] I fell in love and my love still grows

[metalicarus]

Who| Jet Link and Open
What| Painting, model cars, dancing and music
Where| The training center, the park, district 2 commons and the roof
When| After the arena but before the crowning
Warnings/Notes| Nothing right now!

Training Center
This was one of those mornings when he'd woken up at seemingly nothing and just couldn't go back to sleep. It didn't happen often, mostly when a nightmare he couldn't remember had infiltrated his sleep, so the best remedy was to go ahead and do something rather than lay around hoping sleep would come to him sometime before he was supposed to get up for breakfast.

What he decided to do with himself was something he was sure none of his mentors or prep team would be overly pleased with, but they weren't around so who cared? Jet made his way down to the Training Center, not in work out clothes, but in something just as plain. Once he got there, he went straight for where he'd found the paints last time. His previous wall-decorations had long since been cleaned up, but that only meant Jet had an entire wall as his canvas once more.

At first, he painted shapes and abstract pictures, then turned to objects -ships, buildings, places he knew from home- then came the faces. It was only the face, like a hyper close-up picture of someone Panem had never seen, but the details were clear and crisp as though Jet were looking at his subjects face as he painted them. Eight faces developed on the wall fast, one woman, one old man, a baby and the rest a group of men ranging from ages 18 to 47 and each a different race from the other. Then more faces appeared as the hours past, these ones perhaps more familiar to anyone who might happen down into the training room. Friends Jet had made over the almost-year he'd been in Panem joined the faces of the family he hadn't seen in ages on the concrete wall.

He stepped back a moment to observe his handiwork and studied each of the faces intently. A moment later saw him returning to the paint canisters and picking one up that he hadn't broken into. It was some deep dark red that nearly seemed brown and soon it was splattered all over the wall as Jet tossed it there. He tried not to hit the faces, just the spaces around them, but paint was paint and it splattered, so he didn't worry too much if some of it got where it wasn't supposed to be.

Unfortunately, that place it wasn't supposed to be might also be someone who'd happened to venture too close to the wall at the time and now found paint on themselves. Jet could only find it in him to be slightly remorseful. He turned towards his poor paint victim and offered half a smile. "Sorry about that, wasn't paying a lot of attention. Guess I should've said 'watch out' or something."

The Park
Once upon a time, Albert had been dealing with regaining his dexterity and Jet had offered him all kinds of model airplanes to help. They had started simple as Albert's ability to lift a pencil and not break it was about the height of his achievement, but as time went on and he got better with his cybernetic hands, Jet had gotten him more and more complex models.

That was how Jet found himself out in the park one day with a model of a car he'd only ever seen in Panem. The engine was different, but similar enough Jet was confident he could figure it out with enough time. He took the model and a bed sheet and cleared the snow from a table in the park so he could work. The bed sheet was turned into a sort of table cloth that Jet set all the small pieces on and went to work. With the snow covering everything, he didn't anticipate the park would see much traffic and it made the whole place seem peaceful, something he'd need as his fight with his own metal hand's dexterity caused the blond endless frustration. He was well aware how funny it might look to see a grown man with a model of a car, especially out in the snow, but luckily there wasn't anyone around right then to question. Jet would just have to hope either his luck would hold out or people would mind their own business if not.

District 2 commons
Jet didn't spend a whole lot of time in District 2 these days. He'd moved most of his stuff back into Albert's room once he'd gained a pass and now that the curfew was lifted, where he was or what he was doing wasn't even a problem anymore. However, Felicity was on this floor and Jessica was not and, right now, District 3's mentor was making staying on that floor very difficult. Bottles of booze didn't bother Jet as a rule, but when there were that many and he knew they all belonged to one person, it made him uncomfortable in a way most things didn't. He'd go back when it was time for bed but, for now, he was going to hide out on the floor that should be his.

But apart from the thing with Jessica, Jet was feeling pretty damn good that day. Yes, nothing had changed over all, they were still trapped in endless death arenas and caught under the thumb of a dictator, but he also had his friends in decent enough health, he was married to the man of his dreams, and strictly speaking, things were not overly insane right this moment. It left him in a better mood than he'd felt in a while. With no one (noticeably) around in the commons while he was there making himself some lunch, Jet let himself relax. Relaxing led to a tune running through his head, one he hadn't heard in a while, but the words sprung from his memory like he'd only heard it the other day. One thing led to another and soon a decent rendition of runaround Sue was serenading District 2's commons, complete with graceful and out-of-period dance moves performed by the blond singing. Yeah, it was all sixties but right that moment, a parade of peacekeepers could have gone through the commons and Jet would have kept up his performance with no shame.

The Roof
It's chilly, but the sunlight keeps everything a little warmer than it should be when Jet makes his way up there. For once, it seemed, there wasn't anyone else up there with him, something he was sure would change given enough time. But since there was no one there right then he let himself find a perch on a bench (his feet on the bench part while he sat on the back of the thing itself) and pull the harmonica out from one of his jacket's pockets. He'd found it on accident while he'd been out in the city and as soon as he found it was the exact same instrument he'd first learned how to play years back, he'd instantly gotten it for himself. A little bit of home in the middle of the insanity that was Panem. Jet brought the instrument to his mouth and gave it an experimental blow to test the sound. Moments later, the roof was washed in the slow almost sad sounds of a harmonica. The song finished out before switching to something more peppy -sort of, 'Home on the range' as Jet knew it was still kinda slow- and switched again to something else when that was done. He'd go through his whole repertoire of songs if left to his own devices, or at least until it got too cold to stay in one place anymore.

Comments

Park

[foundafamily]

Staying in the suites is just too suffocating right now for Firo. He can't take a walk through the rest of the city without the double torture of being reminded of his own city and of gaping at how bizarre this place is.

So the park it is today. He's not quite dressed for the snow, but tramps through it anyway, moving aimlessly until he spots the other person.

Unfortunately, Firo's not one to mind his own business. He walks right over to the guy. "What're you doin' with that?"

[metalicarus]

The sudden voice makes Jet start slightly and he looks up with a mix of confusion and mild annoyance. The annoyance, at least, slips away once he sees it's not some nosy capitolite or some other undesirable, not that he knows this guy, but better him than someone like that.

"It's a model car, I'm building it." He didn't bother to explain about how it helped his dexterity, it wasn't really the guy's business, although it wasn't like he was wearing gloves to hide the metal of his cybernetics.

Jet set the piece he'd been working with down on the sheet and gave the newcomer a better look-over. What he saw made the confusion give way to mild concern that had him raising a brow at the guy. "Aren't you cold?"

[foundafamily]

Firo shrugged, smiling, "Ain't the most annoying thing to deal with here." Really, he was in too much of a hurry to get out of there. For now, at least, the cold was refreshing.

When he noticed that there was something a little different about this man's hands, Firo found himself openly staring at them. "...Are those gloves or somethin'?"

He hasn't made the connection between the strange hands and why the man might be tinkering. As far as he can tell right now, this guy is just really strange.

Isn't everything here?

[metalicarus]

"Guess you got a point there." Being under-dressed was the least of their worries and certainly having aggravating mentors, stylists and escorts was a good reason to get out as soon as you could.

There was a reason he'd retreated to the quiet seclusion of a park when he didn't usually like being alone.

The comment about his hands made him look from them to the guy and shake his head. He wished they were gloves, that would mean he had his normal limbs underneath and would be having troubles breaking glasses he picked up. "No, they're my hands. A 'present' from the capitol not too long ago."

He scooted over a bit on the bench and shrugged a shoulder. "If you're gonna hang around, you can sit if you want." And if the guy wanted to move on, that was cool too, he just didn't want to seem unsociable.

[foundafamily]

A present? Damn. Firo's eyes widen in surprise--it's not everyday you meet someone with hands that unusual. He didn't even know something like that could exist.

Offering Firo a seat is probably a terrible mistake; he will not hesitate to talk someone's ear off. So, as he processes robot hands, he smiles, nods his gratitude, and plops right down on the bench.

He shifts so he's properly facing the guy. All right, time to grill. "So, uh, your hands, then... Did somebody cut 'em off or somethin'?" Things like hands don't just up and disappear. While Firo's crowd usually only cuts hands off on corpses, he supposes it isn't too much of a stretch to use them on a living person as a very sick sort of punishment.

But then, because he hasn't found a single thing to like about this place yet, he has to wonder if the capitol chopped them off themselves. Is this the kind of thing they face if they're not cooperative..?

[metalicarus]

Jet was sort of taken aback that the question came so quickly, this guy wasn't huge on tact, was he? Then again, once upon a time, Jet hadn't been much for it either. Still, while it was annoyingly invasive to ask, Jet found he wasn't overly bothered to answer. Plus, the park was rife with blind spots, being completely honest about it for once might be nice.

"Yeah, the Capitol did. They took me and my husband away in the night and took our arms and legs and replaced them with cybernetics like these." On their wedding night no less, bastards. They'd left a little cybernetic implant under their left eyes as well, but since Jet had it covered with a bandage to keep it from getting too cold and aggravating the skin around it, he didn't bother to bring it up.

[foundafamily]

Tact is barely in Firo's vocabulary.

He watches closely, eyes getting wider as the story goes on. "What the--?!"

Obviously it was going to be something horrible--there's no nice way to lose a body part--but that's even worse than what he would have first guessed. Not only is it a harsh and callous punishment, Firo can't imagine it helps to know the same thing is happening to someone you love.

Remembering that he should lower his volume, he grits his teeth and glances around the park. "Damn. That's a pretty fuckin' awful thing to do to someone." And for what?

[metalicarus]

"Yeah. That's the Capitol for you. They've got a sick sense of humor and a lot of them know how messed up they are and just don't care. So careful who's path you cross."

If any of them pissed off the right people, it'd be easy for the Capitol to just not bring them back. Why allow a troublemaker to live? And the worst part was, this was what had happened to them for doing basically nothing.

"You got a name, kid?"

[foundafamily]

As much as he'd hate to admit it, that's advice Firo needs to hear. He's never hesitated to antagonize people he didn't like, but the stakes are even higher here. The threat of death has always been hanging over him, but in Panem he's alone and the odds are stacked even higher.

"Here I thought they were just too crazy to know any better." The outcome for the tributes is the same, he supposes. Still, there's something chilling about someone who knows they're terrible and just doesn't care. That's the kind of person who can only be stopped by being taken out.

Firo has never enjoyed being called 'kid,' but he supposes he can bite his lip to swallow his fussing. This guy kind of seems like he deserves some slack. "Firo Prochainezo. How about you?"

D2

[silberfuchs]

Albert knows Jessica's descent into drunken oblivion keeps Jet away from District 3 during the day, and if the German wasn't quite so hellbent on trying to be the woman's keeper maybe he would have suggested they simply stay on the second floor again instead, but it either doesn't occur to the older man or he's unwilling or he just doesn't see the point when in a month or so they'll have their own private apartment between floors two and three. Even so, sometime in the afternoon Albert goes in search of his wayward husband, tired of butting his head against the impressively fortified wall of Jessica's stubbornness.

What he discovers in District 2 is a performance to Ziegfeld proud and out of delight in watching Albert makes himself as unobtrusive as possible, wanting to catch the whole show. Francoise may have been the dancer among them but Jet was no slouch when it came to the same and he rarely lets go like this. Albert can't help but take the opportunity to observe. Nor can he stop himself from clapping when Jet reaches the end of his song, a wide grin spread across his face.

"Bravo! Maybe you should do that the next time you're on Flickerman."

[metalicarus]

The clapping when he'd finished singing had him spinning around to find the culprit and, somehow, wasn't surprised to see it was his husband. Jet wasn't embarrassed by his own dancing or singing, he knew what he was good at, but he was a little embarrassed to be caught giving a full performance without even a shred of music to provoke it.

"I don't think they'd appreciate 'oldies.'" Oldies, of course, being the time when he was eighteen, but after they'd woken up in the 2000's where everything they'd known was classified as 'old' or 'classic' he'd gotten used to feeling a bit like a relic. Not as bad or as often as Albert by any means, but when you said you remembered when something came out and everyone around you's never known a time without it, it's hard not to feel that way. "You were there the whole time, weren't you?"

Jet gave his partner a look that clearly said 'you jerk' but then turned towards the fridge to get a drink for him. He was a jerk, but he was Jet's jerk.

[silberfuchs]

"Long enough to appreciate the performance." A wicked grin blooms again across his lips but there's a sense of appreciation to it, and happiness too. Jet is comfortable enough and happy enough to dance and sing and that in and of itself is wonderful and brings Albert a sense of peace. Yes things are terrible underneath but both cyborgs learned long ago that if you don't take the breaks life manages to give you then you'll regret it so much more later.

So perhaps Albert should claim this one.

He accepts the drink and promptly sets it on the counter to accept a kiss instead. "You should sing more often."

[metalicarus]

Jet kissed him back and returned to making lunch like he was supposed to be doing. Nothing fancy, it just involved unfortunately healthy sandwiches which -now that he was looking at it- didn't look that appetizing. Jet just didn't do health food. The offending sandwich found a place in the middle of the counter and was abandoned as Jet leaned across from his partner.

"You think? Maybe...but then they really will air it on the next news broadcast or whatever." He held up his hands like he was mapping out the headline in obnoxious font as it crawled across the screen. "Musical Insider: A Peak Into District 2!" He shot a smirk at Albert and put his hands down again with a shake of his head. No way was he going to give them the satisfaction and then have that start a trend or something. Or worse: they ask him to sing for some event or something. Maybe a duet with Venus at the next Capitol party. No thanks.

"What're you doing here anyway? Figured you were off doing something."

[silberfuchs]

"Looking for you." He moves so he can slip his arms around his husband's waist from behind, planting a kiss against the back of his neck. "I thought we could go for dinner, though it looks like you're already prepared."

He glances at the sandwich, aware it's not Jet's usual fair. Whole wheat bread? Vegetables? Definitely not his usual diet, even if Jet's been known to subsist on sandwiches and take out when no one's around to cook for him. "I thought steak might be nice."

The Capitol may be a terrible place all things considered, but sometimes you just needed a steak no matter the price, even if that price meant paparazzi and guilt in feeding the system that you're trying to subvert.

[metalicarus]

Jet leaned back into Albert's hold a bit, leaving his sandwich abandoned on the counter as Jet's hands clasped his arms. What if they just stayed like this a while? That would be better, right?

Well, his stomach didn't think so, but Jet would probably be willing to ignore it in favor of staying in Albert's arms. An idea was stirring however, born from the idea of going out to dinner and once he turned his attention towards it, it was all he could think about.

"That sounds nice, but I've got another idea. D3's kitchen is pretty well stocked because of Banner, right? We'll get dinner from there."

He turned in Albert's hold and pressed a quick kiss to his partner's lips before breaking away to put the sandwich in the fridge for someone else. A huge smile broke out across his face and he took Albert's hand to lead him back towards the stairs.

"Come on, I think you'll like it."

[silberfuchs]

"Well I do like cooking but I'd wanted to go out. It's too much effort tonight, Sparrow," he almost whines as Jet pulls him from the room, imagining Jet wanting him to put together a romantic dinner for two on short notice. He's not averse to the idea in general but his culinary skills aren't as fancy as all that and he needs much more time to plan and prepare before managing something like steak the way he was wanting.

And then it hits him that Jet means to cook and suddenly his expression becomes dubious as they start up the stairs to the floor above. "Wait, you're...

...

really?"

[metalicarus]

Jet shot back a look that held indignant annoyance, a thick layer of embarrassment just below it, but he didn't stop leading them up to the next floor. "Maybe. You don't have to sound so distrusting about it."

Actually, Albert had every right to not trust Jet's plans if he'd already figured them out, he'd suffered one too many of Jet's culinary attempts. There was a reason Jet was normally banned from making anything that required heat. But this time was different, Jet would make sure of it.

"Just bare with me, alright?"

Training Center

[bravelyplucked]

It pays to keep an eye on the Tributes one is supposed to be mentoring when they're in the Training Center. Gives Torin an idea of where everyone's at in their skills and if they could use a little extra instruction here and there. Granted, Torin's not really used to seeing his Tributes using the Training Center as an art center. He's not really the sort to get angry over something like this--anything that irritates the powers that be is more a source of quiet amusement than anything else--but he is very curious.

Perhaps he should have been a little noisier about it when he approached Jet, because that sure is an errant paint splatter coming Torin's way.

...and oh, Torin's wearing one of his trademark white suits again, isn't he? There's a long-suffering sigh. "Don't worry about it."

[metalicarus]

Torin was probably the only one on his prep-team he didn't instantly roll his eyes thinking about. He seemed like the most down-to-Earth one out of the lot and Jet could definitely appreciate that. However, it didn't change his level of remorse at all, in fact, he smiled.

He couldn't help it, it was just too amusing! But his tone, at least, was a little remorseful. "Gonna guess that happens a lot with white suits."

He returned his attention to the wall and continued his artistic endeavors. "So why're you down here anyway? Come to tell me there's better ways to use this room or something?" He didn't say it accusingly, more in a way that suggested he wouldn't be surprised if that were the case.

[bravelyplucked]

"You should've seen what happened the last time I was around toddlers." Torin grimaces at the paint splatter. He's not mad or anything, more resigned to the suit's fate. "It was almost as colorful."

Torin looks towards the painting. "I was thinking more along the lines of coming to see what you were up to. It's very...unorthodox." Really, he just wants to give Jet a chance to explain.

And honestly, he's amused at the thought of just how bent out of shape some people are likely to get over the artwork. Even if part of him is trying to think of a way he could spin that into something to milk money out of the Sponsors. Channel this creative energy to an art gallery themed party of some sort, solicit donations to District Two's Tributes? Perhaps. Anything to keep them alive a bit longer, to improve their chances.

[metalicarus]

"Yeah, I guess. I just don't see the paints being used for much ever so I figured I'd give them a purpose. Plus, there's only so long I can shoot things, pretend to fight things or work out before I get bored, you know?"

He's quiet a moment, but then smiles more to himself than anything. "Plus, I like thinking about how frustrating it must be to clean all this up." That wasn't so much a subversive comment as it was a childish one, something Jet was known for back home anyway. He just liked to cause trouble.

He stopped and looked over his shoulder to consider his mentor. Why not? Worst he got was a pretentious or scolding speech, both of which would be nothing new and the best result would be finding out Torin wasn't like the others which would be nice.

He held out a paintbrush. "You wanna join in? It's not like they'll do anything to us...besides, it's gotta be nice to let go every now and then."

[bravelyplucked]

"Oh, I can understand that. The system's not really set up for having Tributes around for such a long time--I think they tend to forget that people have other needs than just training in the long run." And he's trying very, very hard to hide a smile at that next comment, though he's not doing a good job of it at all. "You'd think they'd realize that paints might be put to use a little creatively if left unattended for long enough."

He's surprised at being offered the paintbrush. Really, it's tempting to join in, but he regretfully shakes his head and waves the paintbrush away. "Oh, they won't do anything to you, maybe. I shouldn't."

[metalicarus]

Jet couldn't really argue with that, he didn't have too much of a clue on how much leeway victors had, but if Torin thought that leash was too short for a little arts and crafts, then Jet wasn't going to question. He dropped the brush back into the pile of others.

"Well, if you're not all that into wall art, what exactly do you victors do for fun? Apart from being scornful of us tributes not good enough to compete." Maybe that hadn't been Torin's words, but they'd been the words and attitude of every other prep team member in District 2.

[bravelyplucked]

Torin arches an eyebrow at that comment on scorn, but he lets it slide. He's got little, if any, control of the rest of District 2's support staff. "Most of the Victors take on a talent of some sort once they're out of the Arenas. Usually something that would be too frivolous to make a living off of otherwise. I make watches."

[metalicarus]

Jet was anticipating some answer that would leave him nonplussed and a little sorry he asked, what he got instead was something completely unexpected and actually pretty interesting.

"You make watches? That's really cool! I've never met someone who knows how to do that before." Despite his 80+ years in age, Jet's behavior had suddenly shifted to someone much younger and filled with boyish wonder.

"Do you sell 'em or just make them to pass the time? Do you have a workshop or something?"