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thecapitol2015-02-18 10:53 pm
dead_black_eyes) wrote in thecapitol2015-02-18 10:53 pm
Entry tags:
There is no peace here, war is never cheap, dear
Who| Linden and YOU
What| Catch-all for District 6's famously drug-addled Mentor, with a twist: he's been sober since the staff retreat. If you're District 6, staff or Tribute, it's a good time to get CR with your Panem-native former Victor!
Where| District 6's suites, various other places.
When| Starting at the end of week three and continuing up through after the end of the arena
Warnings/Notes| Mentions of drugs/alcohol, withdrawal, some language probably
Scenario 1: District 6 Suite
Over the last odd decade, Linden has gotten used to living his life on a certain wavelength. The sharp, inquisitive, quick-witted boy who'd won the 63rd Hunger Games hasn't been seen in years; rather, he's been replaced by a jagged wraith who's grown increasingly neurotic and difficult with each passing arena. He's worked to the best of his waning ability, but even if he'd beaten a Career for the crown in his Games, he's not done so well against the Mentors of Districts 1 and 2. They tend to be concerned with upkeep and image, whereas Linden's consistently backslid, resting dazedly on his laurels and saturating his mind and body with dust and rot. If the plan was to shudder out of existence before 30, he's been doing a fine job, but something has shifted lately. Those who watch him with any attentiveness might have noticed him watering down his drinks and tapering himself off Morphling after the crowning of The Signless, and following the staff retreat, he's been... different.
Bored, of course. Adjusting to this new, sober wavelength is a lot like what Linden imagines infants must feel like when they're pulled from the warm and safe darkness of unbeing and flung into a bright, loud, and unforgiving world for the first time. Everything is colder, clearer, and a lot more painful, and that's how you'll find him today, through the worst of the withdrawal but still on a hairtrigger when it comes to the tetchiness that goes hand-in-hand with drying out. He's in front of the television, but rather than being splayed sleepily on the couch, he's hunched forward over the coffee table, grinding his teeth, mumbling to himself indistinctly as he moves both sides of a marble chessboard. The process is a lot looser and less rigid than an actual game, but he seems to be taking it very seriously; the frost and rust crowding in his intellect are starting to fall away, and it's left him restless and malcontent. It's not how President Snow likes to see him; he's starting to resemble, for the first time in a long time, the type of man who could actually challenge the status quo.
Though he might seem as prickly and unapproachable as ever, he's craving stimulation beyond what his solitary strategizing can provide him with. Anyone who wants to speak with him had better be absolutely certain that they're prepared to weather the redirection of his needle-sharp focus, however.
Scenario 2: Training Center
Linden is still not hale or anything even resembling hearty; in fact, he looks pale and drawn beyond what is typical for him, as if he's been ill lately, which isn't far from the truth. Morphling withdrawal is a bitch, not to mention the effects of practically subsisting exclusively on alcoholic calories and then ceasing to. That being said, he's clean and well-dressed, even if clothing that should be fitted hangs on a hollower frame. He moves quickly from station to station; he's not here to work out, but to keep an eye on those Tributes who are out of this Arena's running and preparing for the next one. His attention isn't solely limited to District 6's prospects, though; he's certainly giving other Tributes (and Mentors) sidelong glances, sizing them up, considering their strengths and any areas he can suggest that his competitors exploit.
If you watch him very carefully, you can see him making quick exits occasionally to deal with bouts of withdrawal-induced nausea, but otherwise, he's surprisingly present and diligent. He especially has an eye out for any sponsors who might be here to size up Tributes; they will not escape without getting a detailed explanation of why Clementine and Karkat are worthy of gifts in the arena, so concise that it might as well be bullet-pointed.
Scenario 3: Around the Capitol
Morphling has a way of making the hours melt together or disappear altogether. It's one of Linden's favorite side-effects, actually, and he misses it fiercely now that he is forced to honestly deal with time again. He had few reasons to leave the Tower before, his needs being limited to anything that could chemically lock him snug and safe in his own mind. He's freshly clean, and he knows that this is the part that's the hardest. The longer he goes without his favorite vice, the better he knows it will feel when he welcomes it back into his veins and his life.
It would be so easy. There are viewing parties everywhere, painted faces that have an intimate knowledge of him and the handful of things that he loves. This city has destroyed him, but it's also given him the adoration that every Victor is due. It's almost impossible to go four steps without running into a champagne flute or a pill offered like a talisman, with a wink and a nudge.
There have to be other things to do. Learning how to enjoy actual nourishment again in the form of the rich food the Capitol has to offer, a brisk walk, seeing a bawdy, raunchy live show... but fresh through withdrawal, scarcely clean and still weak on his feet, Linden could use a few suggestions. Otherwise, the music and laughter of reveling drunks and users threatens to drag him under.
What| Catch-all for District 6's famously drug-addled Mentor, with a twist: he's been sober since the staff retreat. If you're District 6, staff or Tribute, it's a good time to get CR with your Panem-native former Victor!
Where| District 6's suites, various other places.
When| Starting at the end of week three and continuing up through after the end of the arena
Warnings/Notes| Mentions of drugs/alcohol, withdrawal, some language probably
Scenario 1: District 6 Suite
Over the last odd decade, Linden has gotten used to living his life on a certain wavelength. The sharp, inquisitive, quick-witted boy who'd won the 63rd Hunger Games hasn't been seen in years; rather, he's been replaced by a jagged wraith who's grown increasingly neurotic and difficult with each passing arena. He's worked to the best of his waning ability, but even if he'd beaten a Career for the crown in his Games, he's not done so well against the Mentors of Districts 1 and 2. They tend to be concerned with upkeep and image, whereas Linden's consistently backslid, resting dazedly on his laurels and saturating his mind and body with dust and rot. If the plan was to shudder out of existence before 30, he's been doing a fine job, but something has shifted lately. Those who watch him with any attentiveness might have noticed him watering down his drinks and tapering himself off Morphling after the crowning of The Signless, and following the staff retreat, he's been... different.
Bored, of course. Adjusting to this new, sober wavelength is a lot like what Linden imagines infants must feel like when they're pulled from the warm and safe darkness of unbeing and flung into a bright, loud, and unforgiving world for the first time. Everything is colder, clearer, and a lot more painful, and that's how you'll find him today, through the worst of the withdrawal but still on a hairtrigger when it comes to the tetchiness that goes hand-in-hand with drying out. He's in front of the television, but rather than being splayed sleepily on the couch, he's hunched forward over the coffee table, grinding his teeth, mumbling to himself indistinctly as he moves both sides of a marble chessboard. The process is a lot looser and less rigid than an actual game, but he seems to be taking it very seriously; the frost and rust crowding in his intellect are starting to fall away, and it's left him restless and malcontent. It's not how President Snow likes to see him; he's starting to resemble, for the first time in a long time, the type of man who could actually challenge the status quo.
Though he might seem as prickly and unapproachable as ever, he's craving stimulation beyond what his solitary strategizing can provide him with. Anyone who wants to speak with him had better be absolutely certain that they're prepared to weather the redirection of his needle-sharp focus, however.
Scenario 2: Training Center
Linden is still not hale or anything even resembling hearty; in fact, he looks pale and drawn beyond what is typical for him, as if he's been ill lately, which isn't far from the truth. Morphling withdrawal is a bitch, not to mention the effects of practically subsisting exclusively on alcoholic calories and then ceasing to. That being said, he's clean and well-dressed, even if clothing that should be fitted hangs on a hollower frame. He moves quickly from station to station; he's not here to work out, but to keep an eye on those Tributes who are out of this Arena's running and preparing for the next one. His attention isn't solely limited to District 6's prospects, though; he's certainly giving other Tributes (and Mentors) sidelong glances, sizing them up, considering their strengths and any areas he can suggest that his competitors exploit.
If you watch him very carefully, you can see him making quick exits occasionally to deal with bouts of withdrawal-induced nausea, but otherwise, he's surprisingly present and diligent. He especially has an eye out for any sponsors who might be here to size up Tributes; they will not escape without getting a detailed explanation of why Clementine and Karkat are worthy of gifts in the arena, so concise that it might as well be bullet-pointed.
Scenario 3: Around the Capitol
Morphling has a way of making the hours melt together or disappear altogether. It's one of Linden's favorite side-effects, actually, and he misses it fiercely now that he is forced to honestly deal with time again. He had few reasons to leave the Tower before, his needs being limited to anything that could chemically lock him snug and safe in his own mind. He's freshly clean, and he knows that this is the part that's the hardest. The longer he goes without his favorite vice, the better he knows it will feel when he welcomes it back into his veins and his life.
It would be so easy. There are viewing parties everywhere, painted faces that have an intimate knowledge of him and the handful of things that he loves. This city has destroyed him, but it's also given him the adoration that every Victor is due. It's almost impossible to go four steps without running into a champagne flute or a pill offered like a talisman, with a wink and a nudge.
There have to be other things to do. Learning how to enjoy actual nourishment again in the form of the rich food the Capitol has to offer, a brisk walk, seeing a bawdy, raunchy live show... but fresh through withdrawal, scarcely clean and still weak on his feet, Linden could use a few suggestions. Otherwise, the music and laughter of reveling drunks and users threatens to drag him under.
no subject
"Like this..." he gestures vaguely with one hand as his poor King continues its run. "Things are changing, and sometimes it's just good to know that some will stay the same. Even if they aren't good things, they're something to hold on to. Everyone needs that to some degree."
He tilts his head, listening to the explanation. "So it's like a dynasty family?" he asks. "We have those in the Capitol, and I don't really know how any of them would fare if they were pulled away from the status and recognition they get here. Probably not well; those things are difficult to lose if you've always known them."
no subject
“Like how people don’t remodel their homes because they get sentimental,” he concludes, and no matter how off he may be he sounds as if he’s solved a great mystery. At least for himself, he has. Converting things to something simpler, something he’s more used to, always make it easier for Julian to grasp.
“Kind of like that, yes. Though we’re better than what you’d find in the Capitol.” The last of what Linden says makes Julian pause, not sure how to handle the accuracy of it. He hasn’t been faring well in the least, that’s for sure. Even now, he still hasn’t adjusted to what he’s lost, in part because he doesn’t want to adjust. “There’s a lot of things that are difficult to lose. Not very many people like having less than what they're used to.”
no subject
"Better?" he asks, sounding like he doesn't quite believe it but is willing to at least entertain the notion. "I see. And you're right... growing accustomed to less is terrible because humans, as a rule, tend to consider their status quo acceptable no matter what it is. Improving the status quo is great no matter who you are, but I can tell you from experience that you get used to it ridiculously quickly. Even when I was only a couple months out from being a factory rat in 6, after I won my Games it got difficult to remember what that was like, with parties and interviews every night."
no subject
The snacks are momentarily forgotten as Julian tries to keep up with what Linden’s saying, brows furrowing slightly. Julian hasn’t really taken the time to consider what it was like for those who won the Games, or for the districts in general, before Tributes started being pulled from other worlds. He’s hesitant to do so now, which makes his demeanor uneasy as he says, “In order for it to be an improvement, doesn’t it have to be enjoyable? I don’t really see anything all that enjoyable about the parties or interviews. Did they use to be different than what they’re like now?”
no subject
"There are a lot of unpleasant things that do a lot of good," he says, "but I see your point. Some people genuinely do like the parties and interviews, participants and audience members alike. Those were pretty much always the same, and I'm sure you're aware of the differences... only two Tributes from each District, only one Victor, one set of Games per year that lasted only about two weeks, all of that."
He decides to switch gears.
"That being said... one thing that shouldn't change is the spirit of camaraderie within a District. Not only does it make living together more bearable but it looks really good to sponsors. How are you getting on with the other staff and Tributes in 6?"
no subject
“Stephen’s okay, I guess.” From what Julian’s seen from the other escorts he definitely seems to be one of the better ones, at least. “Phil’s good, so I’ll get along with him. But Dandy sucks and needs to be kicked out, and I don’t care about any of the other Tributes. I’m not going to be buddy-buddy with people just because I’m stuck on the same cramped floor as them. Screw the sponsors.”
He doesn’t really mean that completely, because he knows it would be nice to maybe actually get some food sent to him next Arena. But Julian’s too prideful, so he’ll keep on acting like he normally would regardless of whether or not the sponsors like it.
no subject
"Stephen's been this District's rock for years. As staff go, you can't do much better," Linden testifies. "And I like Phil. Dandy-" he pauses. He's not really supposed to be biased from Tribute to Tribute, but that being said...
"...you are not the first one to have issued a complaint in regards to Dandy. If you have problems with him outside of the Arena, you should come to me or Stephen with them. That's what we're here for."