you can run on for a long time; open;

[aintyourdad]

Who| Joel and YOU?
What| Actively avoiding watching the arena.
Where| Various places around the Tribute Tower.
When| Week 5.
Warnings/Notes| None ATM.

1] District 8 commons

Here, he cooks. It's a very normal sight by now - tributes, mentors, stylists, anyone who wanders through the District 8 suites with any regularity has probably caught Joel cooking at some point. In the morning, it's breakfast, his favorite meal of the day - eggs, bacon, toast, country potatoes, the works. And he always makes more than he can eat himself. Anyone who isn't too annoying can probably get him to provide a plate. Dig in.

2] Training center

He spends time here primarily to avoid paparazzi. And, occasionally, to shoot arrows at targets, just for the exercise, really, not necessarily to train. Someone who looks particularly lost, or out of their depth, might be able to talk him into giving some lessons in the survival areas - how to build a fire is something he's particularly good at, as is erecting temporary shelter and things like that. He doesn't really care which district people are associated with - as long as they don't annoy him. Kids, in particular, will get special treatment.

3] Roof garden

He spends time wandering the roof garden to get some air, and what little privacy any of them are afforded in this place. There are no TV screens up here, a blessed relief from the constant recaps and repeats of the arena footage - something he can't do anything about, so what's the point of watching it? He's sent Tess some supplies, which is about all he can manage. He walks up here for the quiet. Sometimes with a beer in his hand as he watches the sun set.

Comments

1

[cigne]

Swann, god love her, has never given up on Joel, even after he shunned her and made her cry. He still got a welcome back gift basket after his death, he got a special cake for Valentine's Day (the plaid of his shirt had been painstakingly painted onto the surface of it), and despite his continued silence and seeming determination to ignore her, she keeps cheerily greeting him, day after day.

They've spent several weeks with only each other and Jolie for company by now, and she hopes she's getting somewhere with him.

"Good morning, Joel," she chirps as she walks in, clutching a basket of muffins in one hand and her dog in the other. She sets them both down -- the muffins on the counter, Marcel on the floor -- and smiles at Joel as she pours herself a cup of coffee. "Did you sleep well?"

[aintyourdad]

All Joel can really do is give her a long-suffering look - and save a look of contempt for that rat she calls a dog. At least it's not on the counter with the food. He wouldn't put it past her.

"None of your business," he says without much bite, bending over the frying potatoes to check them.

[cigne]

"Of course it's my business," she answers easily, as if he hasn't said anything rude at all, and adds several rose-shaped sugar cubes to her coffee. There are no more regular cubes. She's had them all replaced. "I'm responsible for you. It wouldn't do if you're uncomfortable in some way and I didn't try to help."

She takes a seat at the table and watches him as she sips her coffee, smiling at him.

"Besides, you need to be well-rested for today."

[aintyourdad]

He's more than willing to ignore everything she says - right up until that last statement, at which point he looks at her again, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"Oh, no. No, no, no. I'm not doin' any interviews, or sponsorships or whatever the hell else you want to drag me into."

3

[dead_black_eyes]

Linden is up here for much of the same reason as Joel is. It's quiet and there's a lot of fresh air and light, both of which Linden is trying to get more of now that he's in recovery. He's only human, though, and he's slightly unraveling his own efforts by standing off to the side and taking deep, desperate draws on a cigarette. It's an inferior habit, one that still leaves him with cruel cravings, but it beats having nothing to take the edge off. This evening, he's had just about enough of the viewing parties with the overflowing alcohol and sly offers of his known vices; he'd swear that people know he's trying to quit and are attempting to sabotage his efforts.

He can hear someone coming, and his newly over-keen sense of smell picks up a hint of fermentation. His stomach lurches, but he remains upright, stubbing out his cigarette and watching Joel warily.

"If you want to be alone, I don't have to stay out," he offers brusquely; District 6's Mentor is not known for being particularly personable; it might have something to do with the brutal scar slicing across his neck.

[aintyourdad]

If Linden's manners leave anything to be desired, Joel doesn't seem to notice or care. Possibly both. He shakes his head a little at the offer, and takes a step back the way he came. "I can go, you were here first." If nothing else, the other man seems to have claimed this part of the roof for the moment, and Joel does understand privacy.

[dead_black_eyes]

"I don't care," Linden shoots back. "If you're not bothered, I'm not bothered, but it's a public place and I don't have the authority to ask you to leave. That would be stupid."

He's not one of the more charming Mentors. Not by far; he has his merits once someone's gotten past the initial thick, spiny layer, but initially he can be a jarring and strange presence.

"Are you almost done with your beer?"

[aintyourdad]

Okay, that response gets Joel's eyebrows up a little. He's a crotchety old bastard a lot of the time, but generally he likes to think he doesn't snap at people for no reason. "Whatever, pal, I'm not here to argue," he says easily, putting his hands up and keeping his distance. If the guy has that much of a hair-trigger temper it's best to make sure there's space between them.

"Almost, why?"

1

[reallynow]

It's been a pretty quiet month so far, all things considered. Most of District Eight made it quite far into the Arena, with the exception of Joel, so the District has been deserted. As such, Jolie is getting used to swooping in the kitchen and picking up the leftovers.

What was that about annoying people? Sssh. No such thing.

"Morning sunshine." She crows, fully dressed for the day and slinking toward the fridge for some juice. "Anyone ever talked about giving you your own cooking show? We could call it something like yer toast." She mimics his accent, pointing a finger at him like she's firing a fake gun.

[aintyourdad]

Honestly, these days Jolie is the least of his problems. She's familiar enough by now that he can nearly tolerate her presence, most of the time, and possibly even not mind it.

She's a step above Swann, at least. She doesn't have a rat-sized dog with her all the time.

"That's the shittiest Texas accent I've ever heard," he says mildly. "And I'm not cookin' for an audience."

[reallynow]

The way Jolie feels about Joel is similar, in a sense, though there will always be a power imbalance that weighs in her favour. He's still difficult to work with, but things run much smoother now that they seem to understand one another just a little better.

"Suits you then." She sticks her tongue out at him, taking a bottle of juice out of the fridge for herself and cracking it open for a long sip. "Whatever. Not my job to get you booked anyway, that's Swann's problem." She drops the name carefully, aware of their tensions and a little eager to work on it. Maybe later, though. For now..

"Where's mine?" She asks with faux expectancy, a taunting lilt to her voice.

[aintyourdad]

"Swann's better off leavin' me alone," he mutters darkly, not interested in talking about that particular thorn in his side.

"Yours?" Joel raises his eyebrows at the stylist. "You want greasy bacon and eggs? You? Wouldn't it ruin your figure or somethin'?"

1

[foundafamily]

Firo was one of the more recent arrivals before the Arena, so he hadn't gotten to know too many of his Districtmates, Joel included.

He's been around long enough, though, to have seen how certain people rely on the Avoxes and to notice those who don't. And, well, who wouldn't come to check out that smell?

He's still slightly mussed and rumpled from an early morning training session when he peeks into the kitchen. "You're really goin' all out with that, huh?"

[aintyourdad]

Joel glances up at the new face - people have come and gone in his time here, that's for sure, so it's not really all that surprising to see someone new in the suite, someone he doesn't recognize.

"The food here's good, might as well take advantage," he drawls easily at the remark. "You might get sick if you just came from the arena, but you just need to readjust."

[foundafamily]

He sighs, nodding his head, "Yeah, yeah, I know the drill."

Not from the Arenas, of course, but thanks to the Martillos' care back when they took him in. The skinny little urchin back then hadn't been too happy about slowly getting back on normal food, but Firo's grateful they knew what they were doing.

He moseys into the room and props himself up against an unoccupied stretch of the counter. "How long've you been back? Don't think I saw you in there, but I'd guess there were a lotta people who kept outta sight."

[aintyourdad]

Joel shrugs vaguely, glancing at the newcomer again. "I didn't make it more'n a few hours this time," he drawls. "Them's the breaks." He's relatively flippant about dying - as often as he's done it, it makes some sense.

1

[whatisay]

The last few days, Joel's likely seen Jason around a few times, popping up from the floor below some days around noon looking for Swann so they can grab lunch together, or earlier than that so they can grab something from a cafe rather than "Avox coffee". He's ignored Joel, making their feelings for each other seems mutual.

Today Swann's out when Jason pops up (which Jason verifies by asking Jolie, because Joel doesn't merit speaking directly to to get that news, apparently), but she should be back any moment now, and so Jason decides to loiter around the kitchen. He sits at the counter, watching Joel with a sort of detached bemusement, all bitterness and no good humor. He rests his elbows on the polished granite and slouches.

"Cute." Jason clearly isn't looking to earn a plate of potatoes and sausage. He raises his eyebrows and his lip a bit, thinking that just the smoke alone coming off the hunk of steak looks greasy. "Is that the sort of thing they call food where you're from?"

[aintyourdad]

"That the sort of thing they call manners where you're from?" Joel shoots back immediately - rich, perhaps, coming from him, but honestly, if you don't have anything useful or productive to say, why are you opening your mouth? He barely gives the stranger a glance, except to quickly size him up, whether he would pose any kind of physical threat.

[whatisay]

"Sure. It's fine manners for around a Tribute." Jason looks irate, like he's explaining the color of the sky to a child. Of course it's blue. Tributes who just got here may have an excuse, but Joel's been around near a year now and at this point, Jason's becoming convinced that the man is incurably dense.

Jason slouches, body lithe but unimpressive, suit looking a little too obviously tailored to have been small enough for him originally. He has the haggard look of someone who tries to keep too many things on his mind and ends up dropping at least one of them a day, to his frustration as much as anyone else's. He reaches over and takes an apple from the bowl on the table, eying it skeptically for brown spots.

"I have to admit, it's a complete mystery to me why they keep you around. I'd have swapped you out for a better model five Arenas ago."

2! let me know if this doesn't work

[reassures]

While the encounter on the roof was less than pleasant, Nill is fully aware that she owes Joel an apology, even if she doesn't really know him. It's one thing to tell a lie for someone, even one as minor as the one that she told him, but it was obvious that he knew and he still left her to handle Linden instead of doing anything that might exacerbate the situation. Or trying to punch him. She's very appreciative of the fact that Linden walked away from the situation generally unscathed.

Despite the good intention it does take her a little time to actually find Joel. She doesn't know him personally, and she certainly doesn't know what his District is - the most she knows is his name, and that he is possibly one of Beth's friends. Nill almost looks a little relieved when she finally spots him in the training center. Lacking an audible means to grab his attention she heads over quickly, staying a fair distance so she doesn't startle him, and lifts a hand to wave and get his attention, wings fluttering a little against her back.

[aintyourdad]

Joel as a rule is pretty alert about his surroundings, so even as quiet as she is, it doesn't take long for him to notice her fluttering wings. They're a strange enough sight to catch his attention, though he knows better by now than to act surprised or ask prying questions about such things.

He simply sighs and raises his eyebrows at her. "You need somethin'?"

He doesn't know who she is, except that she's obviously a kid, so his voice isn't hostile or even has much of his usual hardness to it. It's just a question.

[reassures]

Nill is really quite used to spending time with people that have gruff exteriors. Had he been hostile she likely wouldn't have given it a great deal of thought, doubly so if the rooftop incident was to be considered. Nill is quick to nod her head a few times before, as always, going to write on her notepad.

I owe you an apology.
can I talk to you?

[drinkupmehearties]

It's for a similar reason that Jack ends up on the roof garden too, a couple bottles of booze -- both actually for himself -- in hand. It felt like the televisions blared endlessly wherever the pirate happened to wander, and it came to be a constant reminder that, yes, it had all actually happened. And that yes, he'd actually died.

So as much as Jack wasn't too affected by the actual gore or the violence shown on screen -- as honestly it was commonplace enough for him back home -- the peaceful quiet on the roof was a welcome change. He notices Joel not soon after his arrival, and considers whether or not to leave the man be and stake out his own spot on the roof.

He eventually decides on the former, and so strolls with that perpetually unsteady gait of his over to where Joel is and lifts one of the bottles of alcohol in offering. "I wouldn't mind sharing, if you'd care for the company."

[aintyourdad]

Jack, right. The guy's a little smelly, doesn't seem to like to bathe, but Joel is used to that sort of thing - in his world, bathing regularly wasn't always possible, so he can put up with the BO a lot better than most.

And there's booze in the bargain, so why not?

"Sure," he says, taking the offered bottle. "Lasted a while in there?" he offers after a swig.

[drinkupmehearties]

As Joel takes the alcohol, Jack flashes a grin then settles in near him. The question prompts a hesitation, urges him to knock back a couple hefty gulps from the bottle of rum, then fix his attention back over to the man.

"Three weeks, by my count, then shot dead in the chest." He forms his fingers into a gun, then mimes shooting himself where the bullet had hit home. "Wasn't too bad, with all said and done." Which was a lie. It'd been humiliating and terrifying and hurt like hell, but Jack wasn't about to say that. "And you?"