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

[aintyourdad]

So he's one of those. Not that it takes much to figure it out. Capitolites tend to come in a few varieties, in Joel's experience. There are the celebrity worshipers who don't even seem to be aware the arenas are real. Then there are the patronizing ones who like to think if they're nice enough the Tributes will start to accept things. And then there are the petty tyrants, who just like to gloat over every bit of power they have.

Joel doesn't react to the remark, except to turn his back on Jason to focus on the steak sizzling away. The food is way more interesting than this chump.

"Guess you'd have to ask them," he says vaguely. He doesn't know or care, and if Jason was expecting to get some kind of rise out of him, he's sorely mistaken.

[whatisay]

"I would, and I'd put in a request form so you'd be out of Swann's hair. I don't care what you do with your time, but you're starting to intrude on my peace of mind with the way you get her to cry all the time."

Given that Jason isn't really a big fan of Swann's tears, although as of yet she hasn't had an outburst about Joel at him - but he knows it's a matter of time, with her delicate constitution and sweet nature.

[aintyourdad]

"Uh-huh," he says, with the air of someone who really doesn't care and is only half-listening - which is true, on both counts. Quite frankly, he'd be just as happy to be out of Swann's hair, but he's not going to say that to this guy - he'd just find some way to twist it around into a threat, or an insult, and the whole thing would be pointless.

He turns the steak over.

[whatisay]

And so Jason says nothing for a moment, pouring a cup of coffee into a mug and then walking around the counter-

-and pouring it onto Joel's steak and into the pan cooking it.

"You listen to a Capitol citizen when they talk to you, Tribute."

[aintyourdad]

In Joel's world, where food is so scarce, deliberately destroying perfectly edible food would be nothing short of an act of war, the act of someone desperate, just asking to get their throat cut in their sleep or worse.

Here, though, he knows the act for what it is - small, petty, childish. He can get another steak as soon as this narcissistic asshole loses interest and goes looking for someone else to torment. It's certainly not worth getting angry about, not when Jason would obviously love nothing more than to see him imprisoned, or worse, just because he can.

So he turns, giving him a dead-eyed stare, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Uh-huh," he says.

[whatisay]

Something in his flicks off like a light switch, and Jason's hand moves before he even realizes he's doing it, like anger has hit the switch to his arm well before to his brain. He won't abide the insolence of offworlders, of brats like Joel who live off the Capitol's fat and only have to put in time in the Arenas for it, who are living off generosity and snapping at the hands that offer it.

Jason flicks his wrist and scalding hot coffee splatters across Joel's chest. Jason keeps his eyes trained on Joel's eyes.

"I'd say sorry about that there but...well. 'Uh huh'."

[aintyourdad]

With the scalding hot coffee, Joel is suddenly too distracted to continue the stare-down. With a hiss of pain - thank God it's not a really fresh pot, but it's still hot as hell - he starts ripping off his shirt to minimize contact with his skin.

He doesn't bother responding, just leaves - both to take care of the burns and to make sure he doesn't do something that'll get him in trouble, like snapping this asshole's neck like a twig.