thecapitol | paint-by-number morning sky [semi-open!]

Entry tags:

paint-by-number morning sky [semi-open!]

Who| Signless and Tony, Signless and the D12 tributes, Signless and YOU!
What| Taking care of business, then taking care of pets.
Where| D12, then the lobby.
When| Now (after the arena, before the crowning).
Warnings/Notes| Nothing I can think of, will add if something comes up.

A. For Tony

Remembering the whirlwind of interviews and speculation and internal conflict he had to deal with after winning, the Signless has left Tony more or less alone since the end of the arena. There's only so long he can put off talking to Twelve's new victor, however, and he feels it's reasonable to want to be on the same page since they're going to be working together. It won't do their tributes any good if they're working hard but working at cross purposes.

With that in mind he stands outside of Tony's door and gives a brief, polite knock.

"Tony? I'd like to speak with you, if you don't mind."

B. For All D12 Tributes

Just as important as keeping on the same page as his co-mentor is keeping up to date with his tributes. In his opinion he'll be best-equipped to help them if he hears from them what it is that they most need. On top of that he wants to get to know all of them better. Twelve is many things and especially right now it's a mixed bag of very different people with very different skills who need very different marketing to make sure they get as much help in the arenas as it's possible for him to secure. Perhaps it's not the most efficient way of doing things but he wants to be sure everyone is being presented to sponsors in a way that they're, if not happy with, at least not vehemently opposed to.

Each of them will receive a brief, friendly note on their door asking to meet in the suite common room at an appointed time for a brief check-in. He parks himself on the couch with a notebook, a pen, and a decidedly non-alcoholic drink, and waits.

C. Open!

It hadn't been as much of a surprise as it might have been when after his crowning he was presented with the small crablike creature the Capitol had billed as a 'mutantblood lusus'. He remembers very well Maximus and his pet tiger. No, the problem with his new pet isn't so much that he hadn't been expecting it and more that it has absolutely no manners. He's discovered that with the exception of himself and Karkat it's distrustful of people at best and attempts to eat their ankles at worst. 'Worst' happens to be its default.

Naturally the solution is taking it down into the lobby of the tower (on a short leash, of course) and attempting to get it used to people. It skitters around his legs, clacking its claws and blinking its four white eyes suspiciously at anyone who gets too close. When it's not making agitated chirping sounds or screeching in alarm at a Capitolite's oh-so-scary shiny accessories it's emitting a low, constant and very uneasy hiss.

"Sorry," he says, nudging it with his foot away from the person it's most recently decided is its mortal enemy. "I'm trying to teach him to be a little more personable and it's not going well."

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When the door opens and his visitor steps through it, it becomes abundantly clear that it's not Sandy. It occurs to Signless along with the slightly awkward feel of being in an unfamiliar room that with all of his inter-district sleepovers he hasn't set aside any time recently to bond with those in his own suite.

Well. That ends today.

"How are you holding up?"

He doesn't really expect an entirely truthful answer like he might from someone he knows well, but he also can't not ask. He's in the unique position of being someone that can understand whatever stresses Tony's experiencing as a new victor, if he wants to share them.

"Probably better than Atlas."

He says vaguely. He's sure there's no real way that the alien will have any real idea about the story of atlas, but Tony talking about things other people didn't know about was a key descriptor of him.

He looks at Signless for a moment then shrugs. He wasn't really sure how he was holding up at this point.

"Been a while since I've been in the capital bleeding." His arm was still bandaged to help heal his major burn from the arena, his face was mostly clean short of a few healing cuts and bruises with all other wounds hidden by his clothes. They all ached, probably more than when he was taken into custody for the jail break and treated far too roughly for his liking there. But like always it was nothing Tony couldn't hide well enough.

"What about you. I mean. First arena just watching and all, right?"

He didn't care in the strictest sense about how the troll was handling things, but having him talk about himself was time he wasn't questioning Tony.

The response is brief and it tells Signless all he needs to know about how this is going to go: it's going to be friendly, but their shared position as Victors isn't going to be enough to be a shortcut to emotional closeness. In a way that's a relief. Signless has enough people to be looking after already, and he knows simply by virtue of keeping up with arena recaps and tabloids that Tony has his own people who'll take care of him if he needs it.

"Well enough. It's been different experiencing things from this side but different isn't too difficult to deal with. I'm sure you won't find it any more of a trial than I did. That's what I wanted to speak to you about, actually -- we're going to be working together and I thought it best to open a dialogue about that early so that we don't end up working at cross-purposes later."

Tony tilts his head a little at Signless.

"Cross-purposes?" He looks a little dubious about that. "You're a pacifist and I'm an ex-weapons dealer. Don't really think we'll be delving into each other's worlds when it comes to 'rallying' the tributes."

Sure, Tony didn't care about Signless, but he was at his crowning and knew at least the basics about him from it. He does realise how curt he's being how ever and looks back out the window.

"I'm not really a teacher. At best I can show them how to jerry-rig explosives and weapons. If they can keep up." He glances at the troll again. "And I'll even wave my consulting fee for this."

As much as Tony would like to be left alone, he gets the feeling that Signless is going to push this conversation, so he's choosing to be a little obtuse and stand offish, just to see how much the other will keep pushing the topic.

He'll only push until there's something of an accord, even if it's a vague one. That hasn't happened yet though and so he goes on -- and anyway he needs to clear something up.

"I am a pacifist, yes, but I don't expect my tributes to be. If you can teach them to improvise weapons and I can teach them how to survive in the wilderness well enough to have the strength to wield them, they'll at least have a fighting chance."

Perhaps it's his own idealism or the fact that he doesn't know Tony personally very well, but Signless can't imagine not feeling in some way obligated to take care of the tributes in Twelve now that that's his entire job. He at least owes them that effort even if his skills are very specialized.

The second 'fighting chance' is uttered Tony snorts. "That's cute. I mean, no. It's more really optimistic that you think that."

Tony starts to pace a little, eyeing the door a little because Signless is close enough to his door to be blocking it and cutting off his only exit. It's not that he finds the other a threat in anyway, but when he knows he can't escape a situation he paces like a trapped animal, which he's barely aware that he's doing.

"I don't know if you've noticed, Moomin. No one has a chance out there, with or without our help. Nothing about that. The last one. I have no survival skills. Well, not wilderness skills. I should have died the first week. I only came out of that a winner because my team. Had the stupid idea to stick their necks out for me." He runs a hand through his hair as he keeps pacing.

"Nothing we do for them is going to change anything." At least nothing arena wise. Tony is personally trying to creep his way into the Capitols systems to try and bring it down from the inside, but considering how close to the chest he's keeping that it's not like anyone knows he's doing it.

The pacing is something Signless can read: he does it himself when he's agitated, full of too many thoughts or too much emotion to stay still. He wonders which it is for Tony, or if it isn't a mix of both.

As Tony spoke a frown crept across his face and settled there, twisting his black lips into a thin displeased line. It rang true, was the problem: so much of it was up to chance, he and Tony were both proof of that. Chance and dumb luck and the time and skills of others sacrificed so that one might make it out alive. And yet...

"That might be true. There may be very little we can do, practically speaking, that will make much of a difference. But I also believe that every little bit helps, that to be fully armed with as much knowledge as possible is better than going in blind and hoping for fate to intervene. At the very least putting up a more interesting fight might serve the practical purpose of earning them a revival and another few months alive. Just sitting and waiting to die doesn't make for good ratings."

Cynical, perhaps, but a real worry here. His own victory had been partially a ploy to create the most dramatic final moments possible in order to keep his best friend alive to see another arena. It had worked, hadn't it?

Tony at least knows that Signless is telling the truth there. If you look like you're going to be boring the gamemakers weren't all that worried about suddenly doing something to cause you to die in an unfriendly manner.

He runs a hand through his hair.

"Look. I'm not the inspirational type. I'm not even an okay role model type. I just do what I want and see how that turns out. Nine times out of ten? I get my way. Floating down some tissues and space ice cream is not my thing." He stops his pacing and looks out the window.

"I'm not Steve Rogers. He's the one who wants the world safe."

"I'll handle the inspiration, then. I've been told that I'm good at it."

A lot of that was something like what Tony had said: just saying what he wanted and hoping it worked. Contrary to much of the popular accounts of his life he'd mostly just blundered through being a prophet. There was no divine insight, no real surety that what he was doing was right, just the need to help in some way. The rest took care of itself.

"I don't expect you to be Steve Rogers. You had this job dumped on you because you out of everyone managed to stay alive the longest, and it wouldn't be fair to expect you to immediately embrace it. If you would rather be minimally involved because you don't think there's much you can do, that's your choice."

It's not one he entirely agrees with, but he can understand it. Life in the Capitol makes it very easy to feel as though there's no point in even trying, as though no matter what you do, it will never be enough. Maybe Signless has always been too stubborn for his own good, but he just can't let himself give in to that kind of cynicism.

"This feels less inspirational and more like a social worker." Tony says flatly. "You sure you can handle the inspiration?"

Of course as antagonistic as he's sounding he's putting less heat in it. He's still feeling backed into a corner about it which is why he's still snippy, but he's at least coming to realise that the guy is only trying to work with what he's got.

"For the record, I know there's a lot I can do." He glances out the window. "I just know that what I'm best at the Capitol isn't going to let me teach." He shrugs with a great lack of passion. "But, fine. I'll do my bit. And it'll be done, my way."

He can't help it: he lets out a small, unpretty laugh at being asked if he's sure he can handle it. Can he handle it? Can he handle trying to keep hope alive in people who feel enslaved and oppressed, who live in constant fear of torture, who know death is an inevitability for them simply because of their social status? Oh, goodness, no, where would he have ever got experience dealing with something like that?

But Tony doesn't know, so it's not his fault he's just been unintentionally hilarious. What the Signless actually says is:

"Yes, I'm very sure I can handle it. This isn't the first time I've done something like this. I'll help in my way, and you can help in yours, and that will hopefully be enough."

He gets a flat look for laughing like that at Tony's question, the answer causes him to sigh.

"Hopefully." He parrots, looking somewhat doubtful. Then after a moment gestures to him with a suspicious look. "Is this going to end in a hug?"

"Oh, no. You don't seem the hugging type."

He backs toward the door, placing his hand on the knob and turning it but not opening it just yet.

"That's really all I wanted. If you ever need me for anything, you know where to find me."

"Well. You're not wrong there." Tony replies with the obvious answer.

He nods as Signless stands by the door letting him know he's there to talk to and simply nods.

"Small floor, you shouldn't be too hard to find."

He leaves it at that. Really, it went as well as he could have hoped, and better than he expected if he's honest with himself. Tony knows his door is open. That invitation extended, Signless intends to focus on his own Mentor work. Between the two of them they'll pull something together for Twelve.

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paint-by-number morning sky [semi-open!]

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I figure we can wrap this up soon!

I figure too~!

AAAAAND that's a wrap! Thanks friend!