Karkat Vantas ♋ carcinoGeneticist (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
crabmunicator) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2015-04-22 05:55 pm
crabmunicator) wrote in thecapitol2015-04-22 05:55 pm
(OPEN) a vial of hope and a vial of pain
Who| Karkat and OPEN
What| Karkat finally returns after the Binding plot.
Where| Around the tower.
When| Around when Sigma's announcement happens & afterward.
Warnings/Notes| Mentions of police brutality and brainwashing.
It's a little after Karkat has stepped back into the Tower that the announcement comes up over some monitor or several, demanding attention. He should have expected this, but he's feeling disoriented enough that it takes him a moment to process what it is. Sigma is no one he's ever met, so that part doesn't matter, but the subject of rebels and anti-Capitol plot filters through and tethers his attention.
He can tell the Capitol slant in how it's worded and presented, and a part of him still hates them for it, but the sharpest part is what he already knew: the Initiate brought this all. As much as he wants Panem to change, as much as he wants freedom for his fellow Tributes, he's never going to forgive the Initiate for trying to turn it into something for him to take over.
He shudders at the end and turns to move forward.
A. The Lobby
It's a bit hard to miss Karkat on his return. Though washed and dressed in fresh, clean clothing, he walks with a noticeable limp and a slight wobble besides. For all his gunshots to his right thigh were finally tended in the end, you don't go three days with little more than scraps of your disguise to bind them without having a lot of soreness left over. It's only by virtue of being a troll that he didn't come out worse for it. But beyond that is a general soreness, left over from the roughness of the Peacekeepers during his imprisonment. His sleeves are long, his pants covering, and they hide the extent of the bruises he bears.
Still, a tired, limping, dizzy tribute is not a steady one, and if not spotted on his own - either during the broadcast, or after as he makes his way to the elevators - then he's bound to get attention when he bumps into people.
"Shit, sorry," he mumbles. He's not trying to hit anyone, but his legs just won't cooperate.
B. District Six
Eventually he makes it back to his district. He's been missing for three days, easily noticeable for the lack of grumping, shouting, and orange horns going around. And it's here for a while that he stays, aiming first to shuffle off to his room to lay the fuck down, if no one stops him first - but it's not like no one can knock on his door.
Sooner or later, though, once he's feeling less of the weird nausea that's bothered him since the end of his imprisonment, he heads back out into the kitchen and then the common area. Winces and swears come from the former as he digs through the fridge for an orange, and eventually he settles himself on a couch in the latter, picking off bits of peel and pith with a claw. Some inane talk show plays on the television, but he's not watching it. Not really.
C. First Floor Restaurant
It's later after his stomach has shown that it can keep the orange down that Karkat decides he wants a real meal. Three days of bread and water will do that to you, and so after another limping trip down, he brings himself in to the restaurant off from the lobby and sets to ordering something.
"Yes, just the soup--no, no bread--no crackers--no sandwich, just the soup, alright? If I'm still hungry I'll order something else," he huffs at a concerned-looking waitress, who had been trying to ply him with are you sure?s and you look awful hungry. Good intents, to be sure, but he doesn't want to touch bread for a week. He doesn't dare tell why.
D. The Roof
With being stuck onhouse tower arrest until the next arena, Karkat ends up spending a lot of his time on the roof. Furnishings inside may be comfortable enough, but it gets stuffy, and he's had enough of being stuck inside to last him for a good while. The roof at least has fresh air and a view of the sky, and he heads up day or night to sit, watch the city, and most often read.
Did you want that other chair? Too bad, because he's too busy tugging it over with his good foot so that he might prop his right one on the seat. It feels better for his leg, and the less soreness he has, the better he can enjoy the trashy romance novel he's currently stuck his nose in.
E. District 9 (Closed)
Between everything else, sometime after making it back to his floor, getting some food and drink in him, and laying on his actual bed for a while, Karkat gets back up to visit this District. He's still sore and tired, but those things are weighed out by the need to visit his important people and communicate the fact that he's not dead or Avoxed. Three days may not equal the week he was gone after last arena, but it's three days after the Initiate's plan went off and the broadcast from Sigma Klim can't have eased worries.
It takes him a while to get up - most of his time in jail was spent sitting around to keep from worsening his wounds, so he's not yet used to walking on his hurt leg - but get there he does. Elevators help, thank fuck; he doesn't want to think about stairs for another week. And from there it's not too far to one of the doors he intends to visit.
He knocks with the back of his hand, but doesn't call any greeting. There will be time enough to talk once he's inside and sat down.
What| Karkat finally returns after the Binding plot.
Where| Around the tower.
When| Around when Sigma's announcement happens & afterward.
Warnings/Notes| Mentions of police brutality and brainwashing.
It's a little after Karkat has stepped back into the Tower that the announcement comes up over some monitor or several, demanding attention. He should have expected this, but he's feeling disoriented enough that it takes him a moment to process what it is. Sigma is no one he's ever met, so that part doesn't matter, but the subject of rebels and anti-Capitol plot filters through and tethers his attention.
He can tell the Capitol slant in how it's worded and presented, and a part of him still hates them for it, but the sharpest part is what he already knew: the Initiate brought this all. As much as he wants Panem to change, as much as he wants freedom for his fellow Tributes, he's never going to forgive the Initiate for trying to turn it into something for him to take over.
He shudders at the end and turns to move forward.
A. The Lobby
It's a bit hard to miss Karkat on his return. Though washed and dressed in fresh, clean clothing, he walks with a noticeable limp and a slight wobble besides. For all his gunshots to his right thigh were finally tended in the end, you don't go three days with little more than scraps of your disguise to bind them without having a lot of soreness left over. It's only by virtue of being a troll that he didn't come out worse for it. But beyond that is a general soreness, left over from the roughness of the Peacekeepers during his imprisonment. His sleeves are long, his pants covering, and they hide the extent of the bruises he bears.
Still, a tired, limping, dizzy tribute is not a steady one, and if not spotted on his own - either during the broadcast, or after as he makes his way to the elevators - then he's bound to get attention when he bumps into people.
"Shit, sorry," he mumbles. He's not trying to hit anyone, but his legs just won't cooperate.
B. District Six
Eventually he makes it back to his district. He's been missing for three days, easily noticeable for the lack of grumping, shouting, and orange horns going around. And it's here for a while that he stays, aiming first to shuffle off to his room to lay the fuck down, if no one stops him first - but it's not like no one can knock on his door.
Sooner or later, though, once he's feeling less of the weird nausea that's bothered him since the end of his imprisonment, he heads back out into the kitchen and then the common area. Winces and swears come from the former as he digs through the fridge for an orange, and eventually he settles himself on a couch in the latter, picking off bits of peel and pith with a claw. Some inane talk show plays on the television, but he's not watching it. Not really.
C. First Floor Restaurant
It's later after his stomach has shown that it can keep the orange down that Karkat decides he wants a real meal. Three days of bread and water will do that to you, and so after another limping trip down, he brings himself in to the restaurant off from the lobby and sets to ordering something.
"Yes, just the soup--no, no bread--no crackers--no sandwich, just the soup, alright? If I'm still hungry I'll order something else," he huffs at a concerned-looking waitress, who had been trying to ply him with are you sure?s and you look awful hungry. Good intents, to be sure, but he doesn't want to touch bread for a week. He doesn't dare tell why.
D. The Roof
With being stuck on
Did you want that other chair? Too bad, because he's too busy tugging it over with his good foot so that he might prop his right one on the seat. It feels better for his leg, and the less soreness he has, the better he can enjoy the trashy romance novel he's currently stuck his nose in.
E. District 9 (Closed)
Between everything else, sometime after making it back to his floor, getting some food and drink in him, and laying on his actual bed for a while, Karkat gets back up to visit this District. He's still sore and tired, but those things are weighed out by the need to visit his important people and communicate the fact that he's not dead or Avoxed. Three days may not equal the week he was gone after last arena, but it's three days after the Initiate's plan went off and the broadcast from Sigma Klim can't have eased worries.
It takes him a while to get up - most of his time in jail was spent sitting around to keep from worsening his wounds, so he's not yet used to walking on his hurt leg - but get there he does. Elevators help, thank fuck; he doesn't want to think about stairs for another week. And from there it's not too far to one of the doors he intends to visit.
He knocks with the back of his hand, but doesn't call any greeting. There will be time enough to talk once he's inside and sat down.
not a problem; I enjoy blue cervidae
So when the Psiioniic turned to debate, arguing at himself about his continued life and his ready observation, it drew up his gaze and put a doubting frown to his face.
"It's brainwashing. He--" he started, only for the last question to roll over him and push him back. How did he know? How did he know? The frown deepened along with the lines between his eyebrows. There had been no specific moment, no certain discussion he could recall, no plain telling him what happened. Just a space at the end that left him shuddering, swallowing thickly, and shaking his head as his eyes slipped closed.
"It was a hard three days. Please, don't push me." He could feel his heart rate speeding in his chest, and he worried that much more might send him panicking. Maybe they had hurt him, maybe they had interrogated him in the Capitol style, and he knew there were more bruises on him than he could quite place. Even that wondering, however, sent a fresh tremor through him.
"But I know it. I know it. He brainwashed people. You know if someone dies here permanently they won't--won't just let it sit. He pulled this whole thing off until now. He's not stupid, he was trickier than any of us thought, and he fucking played us until they caught him. Please," he begged again, and his head lifted to show a look that matched. "He knows how to play against fears. He hated me, but he turned around and he used me and lied and made himself out nice, and look where it got me. Psiioniic, I know clowns. You can't trust them, you can't."
aqua antler friends majestically galloping
Against his better judgment from before, he wrapped a long arm around Karkat's shoulders, like he might have done any time Signless faltered and was down. Karkat was terribly shaken, and Psii worried he might snap. He let a bit of silence cushion the younger troll. He was tempted to drop the subject right here. Karkat needed his moirail badly, but Psii didn't know who it was, or if he even had one here.
In the end, he had no interest in burying truth. Psii had to speak eventually.
"You didn't anthwer my quethtion. I know it'th hard to talk about, but if you don't tell thomeone or write it down now, you'll forget thingth. Your mind will try to block it out, and you'll mith detailth that could be important. Or you'll remember thingth at inconvenient timeth and lothe your shit. It'th happened to me before, when terrible shit happened and I jutht couldn't handle it. You at leatht need to go tell thomeone, becauthe paperth can get lotht or go mithing...."
Brainwashing, huh. Harley Quinn, his District's Mentor, had mentioned something to him over drinks, before his very first arena. Psii had tucked that kernel of knowledge away, filing it next to Avoxes. Harley, unbalanced as she was, flirted with darkness and insanity. She extrapolated the morbid possibility that the Capitol could alter specific memories. What was real, and what wasn't? (Sure she was a clown too, but she did not have Alternian investments. Whether she was in cahoots with Initiate wasn't the issue here anyway.) Psii feared that even if Initiate was out of commission, there was still the Capitol to contend with in the brainwashing department. All the more reason why Karkat shouldn't keep silent. That mien never suited him anyway.
"Look, I don't want to defend him, I don't even like him, but it jutht doethn't make thenthe. He could have culled me and not lifted a finger. The right wordth would have done it—even if they weren't true—and he would have been a hero in the eyeth of the Capitol, not avoxthed on TV." He sighed. "Not that it matterth anyway. It'th too late for him. No one detherveth that."
turquoise hoofbeasts grazing blithely
"Stop digging," he grit out. He neither wanted to talk about the time in general nor have the sore hole in his memory prodded at, not here, not with someone already saying things dangerous enough on their lonesome.
A shake of his head followed. "If you died, people would still wonder. They're not stupid, either. He wanted to make people trust him and think he'd reformed, that he was any different from the troll he was supposed to become on our planet. The Grand Highblood, Psii. Do you think I'm joking? Didn't you see the stained glass at Signless's Crowning? That Makara fucker told me about it himself."
He had, and he had laid out the whole story of how he'd changed from his first arrival to the troll he presented himself as now - before the Avoxing. At the time he had listened and at the end he bought into it, had acted normal and light and granted him a shot at possible friendship. He'd even joked with him before the mission, and the memory sat like something bitter and charred against his tongue.
"I don't care what you think he deserves," he muttered.
no subject
"And you're thaying he detherved it? No one detherveth that. Yeth I thaw the window." His hands shook. "Yeth I don't like him, even if everyone tried to convinthe me he came from tho early on hith timeline it didn't matter. He knowth hith future thelf will terrorize countleth lowbloodth, and he thtill had the nerve to be moirailth with both Helmsman and SS. But even if he'th the thcum of the univerthe, thcripture-thpouting murder-happy clown maniac—You don't know shit."
He wanted so badly to hate Initiate and everything he represented. Highbloods, clown cultists, they dredged up a visceral loathing in Psii. But everyone had terrible things in them, including himself. He who is without fault, let him throw the first stone. At the very least, Psii hated avoxing more than he hated Initiate. He couldn't bear to see Signless's descendant imply that a person deserved it.
"Ithn't it funny, the oneth who want otherth to be punished haven't exthperienthed the punishmentth for themthelveth? Your three-day thtint? That'th what the clown'th going to have the retht of hith life. He'th imprithoned in hith own mind. I don't exthpect you to underthtand thomething on par with imperial helmthtroll commithion, but you could have the dethenthy not to condone it around me," he finished with a growl.
no subject
By the end he shook, incensed and sour and tired and hateful, and he burst out, "Shut up! Shut up! I DON'T KNOW WHAT HE DESERVES!"
He could feel a stinging at the corners of his eyes, because how dare he get angry for the sake of a betrayer? How dare he come at him when he'd been worried sick for three days whether he was going to die or lose his own tongue?
"I said I don't care; I didn't say the fucking words you're putting in my mouth. I only learned this today. I'm still processing everything, not trying to stand around making finite moral judgements when the wound from being stabbed in the back is still bleeding! Just fuck off!"
His hands scrubbed over his cheeks, furious for the pink now dripping there. He wasn't someone who normally cried from anger, and it wasn't even that emotion driving it, but the sheer rawness of every hurt.
"I'm not--If you--If you're just going to expect me to, to lay out everything like it's all hard, processed data and not an open goddamn wound, then leave. Get the fuck out of here, Psii!" His hands swung in a gesture sharper than a regular shooing, and his head lowered. He didn't even want to look at him anymore.
no subject
Of course Psii wanted to examine the facts, in the interest of preserving their own lives whenever and wherever possible. A missed detail could mean a culling. The thought that Karkat was being a goddamn wiggler crossed his mind, but he also knew that Karkat was justified in feeling shocked and angry after being imprisoned. Signless had taught him better than to write off someone's legitimate distress. It was Psii who was used to being treated as a nonperson, Psii who used to take beatings and rate them based on how their scars compared with his others.
He just wanted to save everyone and get the fuck out of here, and he couldn't. The frustration balled his hands into fists and tightened his throat. If Karkat was freaking out now....
"It'th only going to get worthe...." he whispered mostly to himself.
He should just leave before he did any more damage, or before Karkat said anything else regrettable. Part of him, the slave part used to being yelled at, knew when he wasn't wanted around. His feet made the long strides to carry him away before he was aware of them.
no subject
He might have, had the Psiioniic chosen to linger any longer, but the sound of footfalls warded off the possibility. He knew sure enough that if things were bad now, only harsher things would follow once the real struggle came, but right now the hurts of this battle were too much to rate against the hypothetical future.
For now he would stay here nursing his present hurts, and only later worry about the rest.