Torin Byrd | Human AU | Zyuden Sentai Kyoryuger (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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thecapitol2015-03-11 07:20 pm
bravelyplucked) wrote in thecapitol2015-03-11 07:20 pm
Entry tags:
Just like old times...
Who| Torin Byrd, Felicity Yoshida, and Linden Lockearst in the first prompt, open for the rest.
What| Wednesday's meteor showers lead to District 2's Mentor having a bit of a panic attack in a public place. Later, he tries to pretend like nothing happened.
Where| Various locations in the Tower, along with some random park in the Capitol.
When| Late Wednesday, Week 6, during the meteor shower in the Arena, and the following Thursday and Friday.
Warnings/Notes| Panic attacks and desriptions of violent Arena stuff going down.
[A - Wednesday Evening, Tower Lobby, Locked to Linden Lockhearst and Felicity Yoshida]
The day wasn't supposed to be wholly devoted to work. Torin was scheduled to have his niece meet him for a bit of nighttime sightseeing around the Capitol, and he was hanging around in the lobby waiting for her to get dropped off. Yet work was difficult to get away from, and so he found himself watching a broadcast of the Games in the lobby as he waited. Even if they were unpleasant, he'd grown somewhat used to them. Keeping a close eye on the Games was a necessary evil if he was to do a good job at his work. He'd seen a lot of Games in his time. There shouldn't have been any issues with watching the Games in a public place as he'd done so many times before. Even if this one had already made him a little antsy here and there with its sabertooth tigers and wooly mammoths, it wasn't like there had been actual dinosaurs roaming the Arena once more. Just prehistoric mammals. Not dinosaurs like there had been in his Arena. He could relax...at least, as much as it was possible to relax when his Tributes were still out there fighting.
At least, that was what he told himself up until today, when the lights in the sky had been replaced by a meteor shower. A meteor shower. It didn't help that the enthusiastic announcer kept going on and on about the danger this posed to the Tributes, what might happen if they were to get hit.
All the color drained from Torin's face as he watched those meteors. He should have looked away, gone outside, something, anything to get away from that, but he couldn't. His left hand was shaking as he unconsciously reached over to grab at his right shoulder, the shoulder that had sustained a direct hit from the "Meteor Shower of Extinction" back in his Arena. The television shifted to show clips of meteorites making their impacts in the forest, starting a fire. He could feel his shoulder burn along with it.
He could still see it, the meteors coming down all around him and the girl from District 1, as they tried to end it. He was astride a miniature Brachiosaurus, swinging a sword some Sponsor had sent early on after being charmed by his bravery in trying to tame the dinosaurs. The other Tribute had a gun, though she'd used all her shots trying to take down a charging Triceratops, and now she was reduced to using it as a club. Torin was going to try to end things quickly, but then the meteor shower hit, and he'd felt something slam into his shoulder as the dinosaur beneath him howled in pain.
He could still smell it, hear it, would never be able to escape it, just when he thought he had this awful world under some sort of control, the meteor showers came again and again and again...
Torin was shaking now, breaking out into a cold sweat. He stood there a man transfixed, the calm facade he usually projected gone. There was a definite sense of tension there, like he might try to break and run at any moment, and he still clutched at the shoulder that had been shattered by the meteorite. He didn't remember anything beyond that, not that last struggle with the other Tribute, not the way he'd been forced to run her through with his sword before collapsing himself, not the way he'd gotten out and gone on to coach decades' worth of Tributes through that same hell...it was clear that he needed some help here.
[B - Thursday Morning, District 2 Suites, Open]
Torin wished he could have said he felt better the following morning, but he didn't. Not really. An old wound he'd been trying very hard to ignore for 30-something years had been painfully and suddenly reopened, and he was still shaken more than he would have cared to admit. He hadn't been able to sleep very well, and though he was planning on spending the rest of the day napping in his room with the excuse of "unspeakable stomach problems" he still wanted a morning cup of coffee. Something normal and reassuring.
It might have been easier to send an Avox to get the coffee for him, but even that was more social interaction than Torin really wanted right now. Besides, half the relaxation was in fixing it himself. So he hauled himself to the kitchen at a very early hour, hoping that no one else was there. Though he was perfectly prepared to lie about his condition and say it was a stomach virus--something that both gave him a believable reason to run off suddenly and was unpleasant enough that no one would want to hang around him for long--he hoped he wouldn't encounter anyone else.
[C - Friday Afternoon, the Park]
Actually taking a nap or working on his watches or doing something, anything, that was conducive to relaxation just wasn't happening. He felt trapped in his apartment, though to be fair, he felt trapped as long as he was in the Capitol itself. As long as he was in Panem. Perhaps some fresh air would do him some good, and so he went for a walk.
When he felt like he'd walked enough, he found a nice bench to sit on. He was carrying a bag with him, and he took a couple of books out of the bag. One of them was a book on combat theory, something perfectly acceptable for a Mentor to be seen reading out in public. The second was a cheesy romance novel, something he'd actually bought for Felicity but had forgotten about until now. He hid that in the combat book and started to read. Sure, if anyone saw through his book-stacking ruse, he'd just say he was screening it for his niece, but really, he just enjoyed a cheesy romance novel from time to time. Perhaps reading something light and fluffy out in the open air would help get his mind on things that weren't his public outburst or his old Arena.
What| Wednesday's meteor showers lead to District 2's Mentor having a bit of a panic attack in a public place. Later, he tries to pretend like nothing happened.
Where| Various locations in the Tower, along with some random park in the Capitol.
When| Late Wednesday, Week 6, during the meteor shower in the Arena, and the following Thursday and Friday.
Warnings/Notes| Panic attacks and desriptions of violent Arena stuff going down.
[A - Wednesday Evening, Tower Lobby, Locked to Linden Lockhearst and Felicity Yoshida]
The day wasn't supposed to be wholly devoted to work. Torin was scheduled to have his niece meet him for a bit of nighttime sightseeing around the Capitol, and he was hanging around in the lobby waiting for her to get dropped off. Yet work was difficult to get away from, and so he found himself watching a broadcast of the Games in the lobby as he waited. Even if they were unpleasant, he'd grown somewhat used to them. Keeping a close eye on the Games was a necessary evil if he was to do a good job at his work. He'd seen a lot of Games in his time. There shouldn't have been any issues with watching the Games in a public place as he'd done so many times before. Even if this one had already made him a little antsy here and there with its sabertooth tigers and wooly mammoths, it wasn't like there had been actual dinosaurs roaming the Arena once more. Just prehistoric mammals. Not dinosaurs like there had been in his Arena. He could relax...at least, as much as it was possible to relax when his Tributes were still out there fighting.
At least, that was what he told himself up until today, when the lights in the sky had been replaced by a meteor shower. A meteor shower. It didn't help that the enthusiastic announcer kept going on and on about the danger this posed to the Tributes, what might happen if they were to get hit.
All the color drained from Torin's face as he watched those meteors. He should have looked away, gone outside, something, anything to get away from that, but he couldn't. His left hand was shaking as he unconsciously reached over to grab at his right shoulder, the shoulder that had sustained a direct hit from the "Meteor Shower of Extinction" back in his Arena. The television shifted to show clips of meteorites making their impacts in the forest, starting a fire. He could feel his shoulder burn along with it.
He could still see it, the meteors coming down all around him and the girl from District 1, as they tried to end it. He was astride a miniature Brachiosaurus, swinging a sword some Sponsor had sent early on after being charmed by his bravery in trying to tame the dinosaurs. The other Tribute had a gun, though she'd used all her shots trying to take down a charging Triceratops, and now she was reduced to using it as a club. Torin was going to try to end things quickly, but then the meteor shower hit, and he'd felt something slam into his shoulder as the dinosaur beneath him howled in pain.
He could still smell it, hear it, would never be able to escape it, just when he thought he had this awful world under some sort of control, the meteor showers came again and again and again...
Torin was shaking now, breaking out into a cold sweat. He stood there a man transfixed, the calm facade he usually projected gone. There was a definite sense of tension there, like he might try to break and run at any moment, and he still clutched at the shoulder that had been shattered by the meteorite. He didn't remember anything beyond that, not that last struggle with the other Tribute, not the way he'd been forced to run her through with his sword before collapsing himself, not the way he'd gotten out and gone on to coach decades' worth of Tributes through that same hell...it was clear that he needed some help here.
[B - Thursday Morning, District 2 Suites, Open]
Torin wished he could have said he felt better the following morning, but he didn't. Not really. An old wound he'd been trying very hard to ignore for 30-something years had been painfully and suddenly reopened, and he was still shaken more than he would have cared to admit. He hadn't been able to sleep very well, and though he was planning on spending the rest of the day napping in his room with the excuse of "unspeakable stomach problems" he still wanted a morning cup of coffee. Something normal and reassuring.
It might have been easier to send an Avox to get the coffee for him, but even that was more social interaction than Torin really wanted right now. Besides, half the relaxation was in fixing it himself. So he hauled himself to the kitchen at a very early hour, hoping that no one else was there. Though he was perfectly prepared to lie about his condition and say it was a stomach virus--something that both gave him a believable reason to run off suddenly and was unpleasant enough that no one would want to hang around him for long--he hoped he wouldn't encounter anyone else.
[C - Friday Afternoon, the Park]
Actually taking a nap or working on his watches or doing something, anything, that was conducive to relaxation just wasn't happening. He felt trapped in his apartment, though to be fair, he felt trapped as long as he was in the Capitol itself. As long as he was in Panem. Perhaps some fresh air would do him some good, and so he went for a walk.
When he felt like he'd walked enough, he found a nice bench to sit on. He was carrying a bag with him, and he took a couple of books out of the bag. One of them was a book on combat theory, something perfectly acceptable for a Mentor to be seen reading out in public. The second was a cheesy romance novel, something he'd actually bought for Felicity but had forgotten about until now. He hid that in the combat book and started to read. Sure, if anyone saw through his book-stacking ruse, he'd just say he was screening it for his niece, but really, he just enjoyed a cheesy romance novel from time to time. Perhaps reading something light and fluffy out in the open air would help get his mind on things that weren't his public outburst or his old Arena.
A
"....Uncle?" Though it becomes very obvious to her, the moment she's at her uncle's side, that something's very wrong. He looks terrified and sick and awful. That's not at all how he should be looking, least of all here and now. She looks around, wide-eyed and uncertain, about to call for help when she spots the monitor with the meteor shower on it. That's... that's... oh. That's bad. Really bad. Without thinking, she reaches a hand out for the forearm of his good arm, shuffling in closer. "Uncle Torin, c'mon... look here, c'mon, you don't have to watch..." She knows nothing about how to handle someone having a traumatic flashback, but she knows that he is having one. He never told her tales of his time in the arena, she'd had to look those up herself. They made her understand why he didn't want to tell her much. And why he's having such an awful time of things now. "Uncle?"
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All is uneventful, at least by his standards; the meteor shower gets token attention from him because it's designed to get attention, but every Arena has stunts like it. The reaction of Torin's niece is the only thing that really brings him back to earth, and then he's hit by the realization that something is wrong. He's seen it before in other Victors, experienced it before, but the fact that a Mentor who's always held it so admirably together is going through it has him quickly on his feet and joining them.
"We should get him away from here," he says in a brisk undertone, addressing Felicity. He already knows that, unfortunately, it isn't possible to turn off the TV from out here.
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"Gigas..." Perhaps speaking that word in a near whisper makes no sense, but it's what he'd named the first dinosaur he'd tamed in the Arena, the miniature Brachiosaurus he'd been riding when the meteor shower had struck. His friend hadn't survived the Arena, after all, and it continued to haunt him. He'd survived because of that dinosaur...
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"We can go somewhere else, somewhere else...." And she's craning her neck and looking around to Linden again, hopeful that he'd have some idea of where to go. Or what to do. He really does seem to have a good grasp of the situation. Way, way better than hers. "...somewhere else? I, I could take him outside? But...." No, that's an awful idea. Lanky pale guy, please have a good alternate suggestion?
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Fortunately, the brisk authority he's assuming in this situation seems to be enough to put Felicity at something like ease. She acquiesces quickly, and Linden gives her a curt nod of thanks as he firmly but gently lays his hands across Torin's shoulders, kneeling at his level.
"District 2's suite," he says. "You take one side, I'll take the other... support him, but no sudden movements, and we'll walk with him toward the elevators, all right? Can you do that for me?"
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But he's doing better now that Linden's blocking the TV, even if he's not very responsive. He at least seems willing to let them guide him out of that room. That's something.
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Saying nothing else and keeping her touch light, she starts to slowly walk towards the elevator, guiding Torin along from the side opposite to Linden's.
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Rising with the traumatized Victor is a coordinated production; it has to be, in addition to being steady and forced calm. Linden calls the shots in a low voice, making the first order of business turning Torin fully away from the TV screen, and then they're shuffling across the floor and even though it feels like something of a gauntlet, they make it, and then they're at the elevator and on it, the doors sliding shut after they hobble their way into the glass box.
Hopefully, Torin is not claustrophobic in this state.
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"...second floor, right? For District 2?" She'll let Linden get that. Maybe the buttons read fingerprints? Or maybe they didn't. But staying right here and not altering what she was doing seemed to be the right thing to do. Uncle Torin needed her help. And they still had to get him up to the right floor, through the suite, and to his room, didn't they?
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Of course, the TV is on in the District suite. Fortunately, turning it off is a quick and easy process.
"Felicity, will you please take care of the TV?" Linden asks. "I can get him to the couch. Torin... walk with me, we're sitting down. You're back in your District's suite."
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But he's got the presence of mind to remove his glasses before he does so, which is probably a sign that things are improving, if only a bit.
Sorry. Not too late to continue?
"Right, right, TV off, TV off...." Someone was nice enough to leave the remote lying out on a coffee table, and snatching it up and hitting the power button is easy as pie. Out it goes, leaving things quite pleasantly quiet.
"....ah." When she turns around to see how everyone is doing, she is still clutching the remote anxiously. And though she wants to ask 'so is he okay now', it seems like a bad thing to ask. Her eyes dart between Torin and Linden, full of uncertainty.
Never too late!
"Thank you," Linden says over his shoulder to Felicity as she goes to take care of the television and plunge them into blissful, comforting silence. "That's good for now... Torin, do you want me to get you something to eat or drink? You're safe," he reiterates, trying to emphasize a state of safety and normalcy for the past Victor.
Backtags forever!
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He nods at Felicity, mouthing "thank you" when she volunteers to fetch it. He takes the opportunity to lower himself into a careful seat beside Torin, pulling his knees toward his chest. He thinks this proximity is OK, but it's still always a good idea to be careful for a generous cushion of time around incidents like these.
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"Here, here..." There's a moment of pause where she twists the cap off the bottle with a tiny snap, then hands it to her uncle. The less extra stuff he has to do right now, the better. Probably. Right?
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Contrary to popular opinion, Linden's pretty good at damage control... just so long as he isn't the one going down in flames.
He turns slightly, allowing Felicity more space to access her uncle with the water bottle.
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"You feeling a little better...?" She carefully steps back, hands folding before her, wanting to give him room to breathe and stretch and pull himself back together. That's what you're supposed to do, right?
She's going to have to try and look this stuff up later.
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He keeps his distance for now, since Torin probably needs to see for himself that Felicity is truly mature enough to understand this situation and help with it.
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"Um... do you want me to stay? Or should I go? I'm... I'm probably not supposed to be up here." There, he has an out, if he'd rather be alone. But she'd rather not leave him alone, just yet. Not her favorite uncle, not when he most needs help.
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"I can stay," offers Linden. "I was just going to ask the Avoxes to make some tea, anyway."
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"We can do that." She looks to Linden for confirmation, but it's really just a formality. And then she's moving to have a seat on the couch, herself. Not too close but not too far, either. A supportive distance. Yeah.
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Might be a good place to start fading out?