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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 The sharp, inquisitive, quick-witted boy who'd won the 63rd Hunger Games hasn't been seen in years; rather, he's been replaced by a jagged wraith who's grown increasingly neurotic and difficult with each passing arena.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
The people of District 6 are always so very thirsty. It's bottomless and wanting and desperate. We're all so practiced at looking the other way and pretending that thirst isn't the problem.
"What, you need those?" Linden teases. "Don't worry. It'll come back. Just don't let it sit in your mouth for too long; it's a good way to get raw spots and sores, and those take forever to heal."
Especially if you're still drinking it regularly.
no subject
"Eventually yes, I plan on eating something," he teased right back, letting the alcohol take its' course and daze his mind for a moment, "I'd rather keep my voice intact, you know?"
no subject
"I know," he says hoarsely, downing another swallow with only the fleeting phantom of a grimace. "That's important, but the time it takes to sleep it off is usually enough time for it to return full force."
And if you're drinking motor oil, you probably will be sleeping it off.
no subject
"I can imagine, I think I need to wash it down with something." Big phone baby. He'll learn eventually but for now, he'll be reaching for his beer.
no subject
"Fair enough," Linden says, running a tongue over his pale lips before taking another horrifying deep drink. "I'm jealous... I can't get buzzed off of beer anymore. It's just calories, which... admittedly, I need, but feeling that full is still something I'm getting used to again."
no subject
"I'm jealous you're still conscious after that," he let slip out, "You really weren't kidding, District 6 drinks that every night?" And yet, Phil can feel the kinship in the factory workers, in working jobs that drain the soul right out of their bodies, only to be put back together the next day.
no subject
"If you really want to go there, I'll see if there's anything I can do to arrange a visit. We're not the most festive District, and I'm really not sure if it's allowed, but it couldn't hurt to ask."
no subject
Somehow, considering who his fellow Tributes can be.
"Why wouldn't we, the Tributes who represent the Districts, be allowed to mingle with the people we're fighting for?" that was a question that plagued Gray.
no subject
no subject
He dared include the eleven offworld kids his mistakes caused. He genuinely believed in the best of people before the ugly truths came out, even it killed him
"And they sure know how to, uh, drink. I-I might get along as good I ever will."
no subject
He laughs darkly at the mention of drinking. "You might get along or you might end up spectacularly enabled. Either way I guess you'll have fun..."
no subject
Yep, he was but he was sure Linden wouldn't judge him too harshly for tapping out of indulging in this shared vice.
no subject
"Of course. It's always good to get what rest you can, here... if you're tired enough to sleep, you must be really wiped out, as a general rule."