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thecapitol2015-03-18 07:22 pm
dead_black_eyes) wrote in thecapitol2015-03-18 07:22 pm
Entry tags:
Tomorrow I'll be stronger, running colorful, no longer just in black and white [Week 6, Open]
Who| Linden Lockhearst and Open!
What| After this altercation, Linden had to spend the night in jail. Encounter him at any point during the 24 period during and after this less-than-glamorous ordeal.
Where| Jail, later on the District 6 suite.
When| Week 6
Warnings/Notes| The normal ones for Linden! References to drugs and death are likely.
I. Jail
Linden stares past the rigid plastic handcuffs at his black shoes on white tile. It was only a matter of time, perhaps... withdrawal and the ensuing hell that was sobriety has been rough on him. For the first time in over a decade, he's been forced to look at some of the experiences that have shaped the person he is without the haze of Morphling or alcohol influencing it, resulting in the emergence of a deeply sad and very angry man. Having numbed these emotions for so long means that his ability to deal with them isn't great; an already tense situation with an admittedly horrible District 7 Mentor had escalated and though he'd blacked out past a certain point, he's pretty sure that he hurt the guy. Possibly even enough to need stitches. At that point, it didn't matter who you were or what you'd been through; you at least had to spend a night in jail as a token punishment, and past that, even if you were lucky and the media didn't catch wind, it was inevitable that you'd have to deal with some kind of therapy or conflict-resolution seminar at some point.
There's a forcefield keeping Linden from walking out of his cell, but it's possible to hear through it, even smell through it. There's coffee brewing somewhere nearby, and he approaches the forcefield and tries to get the attention of the nearest Peacekeeper.
"Hey... hey, is that coffee? Can I have some, please?"
The Peacekeeper sighs. "Try to sleep. You can't leave until morning at the earliest, and it gets boring as hell in those cells. It's supposed to, this is a punishment."
"Then let me bum a cigarette."
He's left behind with a brisk, dismissive shake of the Peacekeeper's head.
II. The Next Morning- Bail Posted
"Rise and shine." the Peacekeeper in charge disables Linden's forcefield, and he sits up quickly, having not actually realized that he'd fallen asleep.
"What's going on?" he asks blearily, already reaching for the wastebasket he'd requested they leave in his cell with him. Since quitting Morphling, he's queasy in the mornings sometimes.
"Morning, and someone's posted your bail. Congratulations; 6 must really want their only Mentor back."
"Who was it?"
"Beats me. I'd suck up to them big time, though, they did you a hell of a favor."
III. The Next Morning- District 6 Suites
Linden probably shouldn't have been allowed to return to work so quickly after snapping so obviously and so badly, but he is 6's only Mentor right now, and he's therefore needed. A sweet-voiced woman in a nurse's uniform had stopped by his cell before his bail had been posted and given him a stack of pamphlets, commending him on his efforts to get clean but assuring him that there were more ways to quit than recklessly going cold turkey. She urged him to consider tapering off to avoid a situation like the one he'd ended up in, and explained that mood swings and aggression were common side effects of coming off of a persistent Morphling addiction, and he is broodingly considering it.
He's also considering how the fuck he is going to apologize to Jason Compson. A written apology was one of the conditions for his release, after all, and he takes a deep breath, trying not to clench his fist around his pen and staring at his attempt to write something acceptable.
Dear Mr. Compson,
I'm sorry you'rea sadistic brat
Stupid
have the self-control of a rabid warthog in front of an all-you-can-eat truffle buffet
I'm sorry that I lashed out at you. It was entirely my fault to expect you to be as refined as your bloodline would suggest when you are clearlyan Avox-hitting sow of a-------------
Fuck you, you spoiled
It's not going particularly well.
What| After this altercation, Linden had to spend the night in jail. Encounter him at any point during the 24 period during and after this less-than-glamorous ordeal.
Where| Jail, later on the District 6 suite.
When| Week 6
Warnings/Notes| The normal ones for Linden! References to drugs and death are likely.
I. Jail
Linden stares past the rigid plastic handcuffs at his black shoes on white tile. It was only a matter of time, perhaps... withdrawal and the ensuing hell that was sobriety has been rough on him. For the first time in over a decade, he's been forced to look at some of the experiences that have shaped the person he is without the haze of Morphling or alcohol influencing it, resulting in the emergence of a deeply sad and very angry man. Having numbed these emotions for so long means that his ability to deal with them isn't great; an already tense situation with an admittedly horrible District 7 Mentor had escalated and though he'd blacked out past a certain point, he's pretty sure that he hurt the guy. Possibly even enough to need stitches. At that point, it didn't matter who you were or what you'd been through; you at least had to spend a night in jail as a token punishment, and past that, even if you were lucky and the media didn't catch wind, it was inevitable that you'd have to deal with some kind of therapy or conflict-resolution seminar at some point.
There's a forcefield keeping Linden from walking out of his cell, but it's possible to hear through it, even smell through it. There's coffee brewing somewhere nearby, and he approaches the forcefield and tries to get the attention of the nearest Peacekeeper.
"Hey... hey, is that coffee? Can I have some, please?"
The Peacekeeper sighs. "Try to sleep. You can't leave until morning at the earliest, and it gets boring as hell in those cells. It's supposed to, this is a punishment."
"Then let me bum a cigarette."
He's left behind with a brisk, dismissive shake of the Peacekeeper's head.
II. The Next Morning- Bail Posted
"Rise and shine." the Peacekeeper in charge disables Linden's forcefield, and he sits up quickly, having not actually realized that he'd fallen asleep.
"What's going on?" he asks blearily, already reaching for the wastebasket he'd requested they leave in his cell with him. Since quitting Morphling, he's queasy in the mornings sometimes.
"Morning, and someone's posted your bail. Congratulations; 6 must really want their only Mentor back."
"Who was it?"
"Beats me. I'd suck up to them big time, though, they did you a hell of a favor."
III. The Next Morning- District 6 Suites
Linden probably shouldn't have been allowed to return to work so quickly after snapping so obviously and so badly, but he is 6's only Mentor right now, and he's therefore needed. A sweet-voiced woman in a nurse's uniform had stopped by his cell before his bail had been posted and given him a stack of pamphlets, commending him on his efforts to get clean but assuring him that there were more ways to quit than recklessly going cold turkey. She urged him to consider tapering off to avoid a situation like the one he'd ended up in, and explained that mood swings and aggression were common side effects of coming off of a persistent Morphling addiction, and he is broodingly considering it.
He's also considering how the fuck he is going to apologize to Jason Compson. A written apology was one of the conditions for his release, after all, and he takes a deep breath, trying not to clench his fist around his pen and staring at his attempt to write something acceptable.
Dear Mr. Compson,
I'm sorry you're
I'm sorry that I lashed out at you. It was entirely my fault to expect you to be as refined as your bloodline would suggest when you are clearly
It's not going particularly well.
no subject
"Yes, yes... I'm deeply ashamed and I'm working on it, with the help of the finest Capitol doctors and psychiatrist. Lay off."
His bony fingers tighten around Stephen's hand, squeezing.
"...where were you last night? Nill said she tried to find you but couldn't," he says softly, on a more earnestly serious note. "I know you can't be around all the time and constantly, but for fuck's sake, Stephen..."
It's bad enough for one staff member to rot in jail all night, but the impression it leaves on the public is that another staff member couldn't be troubled to bail him out.
no subject
"...in my defense," he says, "you picked a Friday night, after the Arena, to get yourself arrested."
Don't ask where he was, Linden. You don't want to know.
no subject
He rubs at his eyes. He's exhausted and wants nothing more than to go back to the Tower and sleep. Jail wasn't exactly conducive to restful slumber.
"Try not to let it happen again. Or at least check back on your nights off. I'm trying to get sober and it's been really rough so far, and the District needs you. Pick up my slack now and I won't let you regret it later."
no subject
He doesn't reply to the district needs you and pick up my slack. The timing of it all is incredibly unfortunate -- it sends a twinge of guilt through Stephen's stomach. Being publicly stupid is what needs to happen to get the Capitol off his back, but it's the opposite of what the District needs. Stephen is trying to find a way to balance them, and he thinks he has one, but only time will tell.
no subject
"There's someone."
He locks eyes meaningfully with Stephen before rambling on in his customary, dismissive way. "My doctor. She says that if I don't do something to fix this now, they probably won't be able to restart my heart the next time I OD. I'm tired of the jokes." He tugs at his dark clothes. "Black, it's been black for years. I feel like Linden Lockhearst was buried with all the other Tributes after the 63rd Games and the last decade has been one prolonged funeral..."
He reaches forward, helping himself to a few of Stephen's gaudy necklaces and lifting them over his own head, where they hang heavily and look like ridiculous.
"Look! I'm alive, too," he says in a broad, attention-calling tone. He insistently bumps against Stephen, getting fallout glitter all over his somber attire where it spreads and lingers like a contact disease. "I'm not in a coffin and I want to keep it that way for longer than any of them expect, so that's what's different."
no subject
...you know, Stephen thinks, if Linden had fallen for someone good for him about six years ago, Stephen's job would have been a lot easier.
"I'm glad you're finally listening to someone about it," Stephen says easily, casually. He remembers that Linden had wanted to keep how he and Nill were on the down-low. He claps a hand on Linden's glitter-infected clothes. "And I, for one, would like for you to stick around."
no subject
"Ah. How very sweet of you," he says with a slight eye roll. Way to be sappy, Stephen. "Save it for the eulogy, though, someday you will be required to deliver one and it had better be incredible. So... back to the Tower?" he asks. "We've got to get back to 6's suite before it turns into an Arena in itself."
good to end it here?
"Back to the tower," he replies with a nod.
Sounds good! /thread end
He turns back toward what counts as "home" these days, accompanying Stephen and hoping that Dandy and Phillip haven't come to blows during their absence.