thecapitol | [open] Build it up with Silver and Gold

Entry tags:

[open] Build it up with Silver and Gold

Who| Phillip Gray and anyone he runs into!
What| A sort of catch-all post
Where| Commons Area, and Tower Gardens
When| April 12-16
Warnings/Notes| Mentions of death, more to be added!

[A] District 6 Suite Common Area
After the Crowning, Phillip felt almost lost in the haze of what was probably deadtime. He had yet to master a proper way to cool down from stress, from survival, hell, even a hangover was becoming a longer than usual fog in his mind. Training only did so much for his mood and studying the Arenas was an exercise in torture, more so when he watched his Mentor's Arena. He understood why Lockhearst said that about District 6 being grateful, hell even other districts were on that boat too: he couldn't help flinch as every child that died hit closer and closer to home. Hell, he had to stop at one of them getting crushed and another one being blown up. He knew how easily someone could betray another, to build up the trust and then feel the knife twist. Granted, Phil was thinking about a more metaphorical betrayal but seeing the knife slice through the young Linden's neck, it was the last Arena he saw that day, and ever. No thank you sir, Phil has finally learned to enjoy sleeping again.

For now, Phil sits in the common area, reading a trashy Capitol Harlequin, and laughing along ridiculous amounts of debauchery presented as romance. Maybe even people watching if he's had enough of the literary shenanigans that passed off as a love story. At least Gray did pick up where he left off, and sipped from his soda can, something sweet for the day. He doesn't read this sort of things for the plot, heavens no, but for sport. That and he had to keep an eye out for the rumors.
[B] Training Center then headed to the Capitol

"Wow, this is…this is heavy," the Phone Guy said in awe as he held a handgun for the first time in his life. Every movie, schlock or not made it seem like firearms were lighter, more wieldy than what he was holding. Full of blanks of course but it was still so strange. So this was the weapon that ended his life in Arena 13, and yet…he wasn't that bitter that Nick killed him in that way. Better than what awaited him back home that's for sure.

If the Crowning and Stephen's strip club prank have done anything, it's that Gray needed to make some public relations catch-up. He wasn't that sort of guy that would just pay for some lady to take her top off! Stephen probably meant well, but Jesus Christ, there were still Capitolites that showed him the infamous pictures at the Dancing Bear and asking about it. Not even Fazbear's PR team could make this into something decent. What if he got bid on? He wasn't that ready to face that sort of this deal.

"This is gonna be interesting," he muttered as he practiced disabling the dummy's tendons then jabbing it on every major artery. He never went for the chest though, through the heart was much more trouble than it was actually worth…which meant he struggled on getting the weapon back. "Maybe I can find that…foxling Miss Honeymead told me about." He's mostly talking to himself at this point, but he welcomes anyone who walks in.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Phil's face tensed up as he heard Firo's reaction to the whole strip club scene, "H-Heh, yeah, um...don't worry the dive's not like that at all!" But there wasn't much he could do to hide the pictures.

"Just know that if you see something in the magazines, I was drunk," Gray quickly assumed complete responsibility for what Stephen started, in fear of retaliation if the mobster got wind of the truth.

"Well, I'm glad to hear that..." he grumbled and nodded. But something seemed a little weird...

He blinked at Phil's face, trying to figure out what magazines and drunkenness had to do with anything. "...The hell're you talkin' about?"

But even Firo wasn't dense enough to be unable to decipher the clues in this context. His jaw dropped and he lowered his voice, as if they were talking about some terrible secret. "You mean you went to one a' those places?"

There was a hint of betrayal in his voice, like a child who's been told Santa is a fraud.

Gray had made it a personal mission to avoid lying to people he cared about and sadly enough, this was part of that mission. "I was...led to believe I was headed to a dance club with my Escort," oh the clusterfuck just adds to itself now, "And well, I didn't ask the right questions and I ended up at the Dancing Bear."

And he lost his nice long coat. Worst part to be honest. Pictures are worth a thousand words.

Firo didn't know what the Dancing Bear was, but the additional statements were more than enough to clear it up.

The dismay turned to anger and he shook his head roughly. "I swear to god--! What the hell'd you do there, huh? I thought you were a good guy!"

Don't worry, he'd calm down in a second.

"Calm down," That was less of the usual Phillip and more of the manager that he used to be. "I-It's not what you think!" And there went any authority he had, "I tried to drink and then I met one of the dancers." Candi was nice and actually made Gray feel a little more comfortable in his first Capitol Club experience.

Heaven forbid Firo would ever find out about Gray's past experiences back home. "Wait what's this about me not being a good guy for going there?"

Surprisingly, years of being deep in the mob had Firo pretty well-trained to shut up and listen when someone could project authority. So even if it was somewhat fleeting, the glimpse of poise from Phil was enough to halt Firo's flailing and have him pay attention. At least until a moment after Phil stopped talking.

Firo's outrage was still quick to resurface. He folded his arms over his chest, shaking his head. He was as secure in his opinions as he was ignorant. "B-because--! Th-that's no way to treat a woman!"

"I'm fully aware of that, Prochainezo," that was a mouthful of a surname but Phil had to get his point across, "And maybe that's their prerogative but if they want to dance like that, then let them...but me going there under false pretenses doesn't make me a bad guy, okay?"

Ah yes, the eighties reared their horribly fashioned head in the way the former guard regarded sex. In other words, live and let live, screw around if you want to, but wear protections thanks to the seventies. "I dunno how things were there but here? Things are different, way different."

Someone was bothering to say Firo's full name? That's how you know it's serious.

He bit his lip as he listened, gradually releasing the tension in his shoulders. It was true, women in the Capitol probably didn't have the same dreadful circumstances forcing them into that profession as they did in Firo's world. And it sounded like Phil may not have had a choice if his Escort was involved... Besides, he didn't want to dislike the guy. "So long as they're all right with it, I guess..."

And what was Firo going to do, go in there and ask them? Hell no.

He stared off to the side, arms folded over his chest. "You're damn right things're different. Here people just--I don't--" Now that the fire of an argument was out of him, he put his hands over his face to cover up how much he was blushing. Just the thought of how things worked in the Capitol was terrifying.

The blush would get a sympathetic pat on the back, "You and I come from very different points in history as well, but even this is way too much. I wanted to give you that head's up because, it happened and, I know you're not exactly on the sexually liberated side of things."

Phillip had no idea.

"But y-yeah, wanna get some drinks in a nice, quiet place? My treat," but that didn't stop the former guard from reaping some of those benefits.

For once, Firo accepting the gesture without protest.

"Um, I'm not even sure what that means, but... yeah." Why would anyone want to liberate sex? That just sounded awful. He nodded. "Thanks."

He would understand if Phil regretted saying anything after his reaction, but the warning was appreciated.

Drinks? Yep, that was a much more pleasant topic. He nodded, probably far too eagerly. "Honestly? That sounds pretty great."

With that as a perfectly timed subject change, Phillip got to his feet and his coat, "Let's head out and get some seats that the bar, the less we get recognized, the better."

And that was a reality that never really matched up with both their wishes for privacy. Everywhere they could see ads in the Capitol, with past and present Tributes presenting products that seemed to be endless. This was once what Gray thought New York City would be had he visited in his time.

"Its not far but you know..."

Bless Phil and his ability to salvage a conversation.

He shrugged. "Even if it ain't far, no reason not to hurry." He totally related to the desire to not be noticed or caught on the way or at the bar.

"And why wait when there's a drink at stake? People were already lining up for booze hours before they got rid of Prohibition." He seemed pretty eager to leave, already stepping backwards a few paces. As if physical distance would help separate him from their conversation a few moments ago.

It's a learned life skill if he considered it so. "Yeah but this? This is the exact opposite of the Prohibition, okay?" Phillip smirked noting the distinction the Capitol made on any point in history. He hoped that there was no bad blood between him and the fiery mobster, he'd grown to care about Firo.

As promised the bar itself was small, less luxurious than the rest of the host city. There were a few patrons already there but Phil was just glad there wasn't a fan encounter or two on the way here. "Ta-da."

He smiled a little. No bad feelings to worry about here, now that things were cleared up. "I guess that's not such a bad thing, when it comes to stuff like this..."

Getting a drink, he meant. Though having grown up with illegal alcohol being the norm, Firo didn't realize the difficulties that came with the stuff being legal--like the possibility of getting carded when people tended to mistake you for a kid.

He surveyed the place before them and his face broke into a smile. "It's perfect!"

"I mean, my Family's place back home is much classier, but this--" Now that he had the obligatory recognition of his Family's speakeasy out of the way, he nodded firmly. "...this is great."

"I can imagine if your boss listened to opera at work," Phil commented and waved at the bartender, who was already serving up a glass of whiskey. Districters kept mostly to themselves as they all enjoyed a quiet drink. It felt like home.

Gray picked a booth closer to the back as he picked up his drink from the bar station. "Now that we're here, good Lord it's been an interesting lapse of time since we last saw each other. How's things in your District Floor?"

Firo grinned and nodded, pleased that that detail hadn't been forgotten. Of course, he didn't mention that talk of crimes and killing people accompanied the opera music, which probably made it a bit less classy than someone would imagine.

Turning to the bartender, he waved and requested the same drink as his companion.

He plopped down opposite Phil. "Well, you know, it's always great to come back to lectures from people who don't know what the hell they're talkin' about." He was still baffled by the persistent inability to understand why the Off-worlders disliked being in the Capitol. Of course it could be worse--he'd lived through worse: no food, no shelter, no clean water, etc. But the worst thing was being taken from his family.

He shook his head to try and forget about it. It was only going to make him angry. "...But I guess we all get that, don't we? How about things on yours?"

"Ah yes, everyone and their mother heard Jason Compson's tirade against the evils of the Tributes and our ignorant Offworlder ways," Phillip rolled his eyes at this, "He seems to be on the boat that thinks we're subhuman or something."

By the way the bartender poured Firo's glass, it was pretty obvious there was a shared sentiment. "Not to burn bridges with the Capitol but if that's what they think of us, then so be it." Talking with Linden opened Gray's eyes a lot more than he let on about the Capitol culture and how insidious it could be. Hell, the only exception to this rule was Stephen and he was merely being a trickster then.

"I've been all right...I've been doing a lot of talking around..." and maybe hope that he could muster the courage to talk to someone special without stuttering. "Training as you saw earlier, keeping a foxling, you know, stuff."

Firo growled at the thought of that post; he knew his family would've been proud that he didn't respond and get himself in deep trouble, but he still felt disgusted. "And it ain't just him, either."

Though it did dawn on him that the person he was irritated with had the same position as Jason. He grinned, though there was much more bitterness than cheer in it. "You'd think they'd pick people better at communication to be Escorts."

He took a gulp of his drink as he listened to Phil talk. "Talkin', huh? I hope they're not wearin' you out." He assumed that Phil meant the rounds and advertisements they had to do as Tributes. Yet another insult added to their injury.

"A foxling?"

"Ah, um, my pet...decided to get myself a companion you know? It's why I don't mind talking, I'm used to rambling," he laughed into his drink, "They've had me try to comment on my mentor and Escort but I actually like them and they do their job so I'll state the truth."

A pause and he shrugged, "As for Jason, they would, they should but hey, their rules, nothing we can do to change it," and there went a solid gulp or two from his glass. Phillip had resigned himself to be a Tribute so the bartender gave him a discount or two along with his tab. "What have you heard though? Having Escort trouble too?"

Edited 2015-05-12 22:49 (UTC)

"A pet, huh? Sounds like that'd be kinda cute."

He nodded at Phil's evaluation of his staff, thankful that he, at least, had some good people. Though he wondered how good a guy who dragged his Tributes to clubs could be, but he was trying not to think about it.

Firo set his elbows on the table and slouched. "Yeah. Didn't go lookin' for any trouble, but she's the kinda person who just doesn't listen, you know? And then she just goes and plays the victim. You know, maybe the screws did the first one, but they definitely didn't to the second one." He shook his head. "It just makes everything worse."

There were many others ways in which Swann was different from a prison guard, but the reason he gave there was why he'd take a guard's company over an Escort's.

"He is, heh, I used to try and bring home little critters and ask my parents if I could keep them as pets. Couldn't have one because of the economy and then there was my job...Guess it took a deathmatch sponsoring world to let me have one," Phil said with a tiny smile, he'd been making sure Foxy was docile around strangers, especially with the avoxes.

As he heard his friend talk about the "mystery" escort, Gray's managerial thought processes came to light, unconsciously straightening his back and improving his poise like before, "Sounds like she doesn't quite respect you as a person or as an employee. Have you talked to her about it? People can be reasonable, even when we're the guests."

Firo smiled at the thought of Phil and his long-awaited pet. It was pretty sweet, actually, to think about. "Better late than never?"

"Have I talked to her? That's how I figured all this out. She doesn't hear you at all when you talk."

Firo had actually been almost proud of himself for how he was putting up with the Capitolites. It was nothing to brag about for a normal person, but the Firo of the past would never have been able to go so long without beating up some Capitolites and getting avoxed or worse. That he hadn't caused serious damage to others and himself was something of a miracle.

"And in case you're wonderin', no, I didn't start yellin' at her right away." That only came later. Self-control!

In some ways, the experiences at Freddy's stunted Phil's emotional health and, little things like this, like having a little friend close, made the ordeals just a bit easier to deal with.

"You say 'right away' and I just keep picturing you getting hauled away by Peacekeepers," Gray quipped but nonetheless had the bartender bring the bottle over for a refill.

This made the Phone Guy think though, if this Escort was just trying to sound tough when she had no control over. Probably a Capito- oh criminy.

"Miss Honeymead tends to act more on her opinions and experiences than yours. Apparently she's been on the television but maybe this is one of those jobs she needs to just tweak her approach, you know?"

He paused to take a small sip, "Professionally speaking, Swann's gonna get you sponsors and we both know they can make or break your run." He meant that as a peace offering to them both, "Offer her an apology, and...somewhat mean it. People like it when they suck up to them."

Edited 2015-05-22 01:19 (UTC)

Phil had a point, of course. Firo offered a ghost of a smile. "I'm stupid, but I'm not that stupid."

But at the thought of apologizing, his hackles rose. "Hell no. I'm not the one who was wrong." Well, even he was starting to realize he could have gone about it better. But he still felt his point was worth standing by--that and the small matter of his dignity.

Firo didn't like yelling at his friends, though, and he could tell Phil was probably trying to help. So he tossed back the rest of his drink to give himself a moment to calm down. "She can keep her sponsors. I've already had to wreck my pride enough for this place, I'm not doin' that."

Honestly, Firo would have preferred if people kept their support away from him. He didn't like the feeling of owing anyone or having to rely on them.

"Then write her a thank you note and a little gift, sensible of course, maybe for her pets, and leave it at that, just walk by and offer some politeness if she comes by," Phillip held his ground again, this time more consistently, "Think about it this way; let's say you wronged a, uh, rival gang's daughter. Would you be making this much fuss over it?"

Businesses ran basically the same way, whether legal or not. And business relationships were incredibly important. He then started to whisper as low as possible, so no eavesdropping ears could pick it up.

"Firo, I like you, and I want you to succeed," More than he does for himself, but not more than to have his District have a win, "But if you want anything done in this place and with Honeymead, you have to play the games with their rules."

[open] Build it up with Silver and Gold

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)