(OPEN) a vial of hope and a vial of pain

[crabmunicator]

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 on house 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.

Comments

D

[ka_sera_sera]

It's been a day since the announcement, since they all discovered the consequences of their actions. Roland doesn't even know if they succeeded. It's too much of a risk to ask.

He's heard of Karkat's return, because once you start listening for news of one person or another you find out that this tower is a very small place. But Roland hasn't tried to see him, and his reasoning for that is sound but that doesn't make the fact that he hasn't any better. Roland had come up here for a break, too, for although this place reminds a small part of him of Cuthbert now it is still almost beautiful, and seems high away from the ugly realities of the city below.

But of course, there is no escaping the ugly realities of the Capitol - only the illusion of escape, easily broken. Another piece of that reality sits in front of him with his leg propped up on an extra chair and Roland's steps slow. His expression is grim, briefly, holds something like sympathy, something like guilt. "Karkat," he says, and hunkers beside the chairs to speak to the boy on his level. "It's very good to see you. You need anything?"

going to assume Karkat hasn't talked to Signless yet just to make this easier

[crabmunicator]

Karkat's sat up watching the city, and though he's brought a book with him it sits closed on his lap. He tried to read earlier, but his mind is too caught up in everything that he hasn't been able to focus, helped little by how tired he still is. His clothes hide real sign of wound, but the look to his face is telling still. All the rest he got before the mission matters little after something like that.

He's not worried when he hears someone approaching, but he does look when he nears, in time for Roland to crouch at his side.

"That's a weird question to ask, old man," he teases, but even that comes out with a tired tone. "Do you know how to sleep without dreams?"

He hasn't got a lot of hope for that, but it's worth a try when he's sure he'll never get sopor to sleep in again.

yeah if you end up needing to change when he meets roland again this thread can happen whenever

[ka_sera_sera]

Roland hesitates. He could have done that for the boy once. Would have, at least for a time. "Never figured that one out, no. If it weren't for the limits the Capitol's put on us," and here he taps the side of his head, meaning to indicate both the mental abilities this place calls powers and the chip in his brain which is what he assumes limits them, "I'd see about helping you forget yours, at least. But as things are, you may just have to find someone. If someone'll sleep beside you, that'll help. Someone you trust."

That much Roland knows from experience. Company won't keep the memories quiet, but it'll help when the time comes to put them away again. There's a reason Roland's started sleeping a little bit worse whenever Signless isn't there.

[crabmunicator]

Karkat frowns some there, and noticeable presses back against his chair. Normally he trusts Roland quite a bit, as his actions in the arena should have told, but none of that came down to mental abilities. Moreover, things with the Initiate have left him wary and nervous of anything mental.

"I thought you might know some plant or something." He knew plants for other things. But the thought of someone to help puts two people in mind: Nill, who hadn't slept beside him but had woken him from a nightmare - and been bitten in the process - and was now his moirail; and Dave, no more than a friend, but with whom he shared space easily and had shared naps before. "But I can talk to someone. I should anyway."

Then thinking more, he asks, "How have you been holding up?"

He doesn't think Initiate was ever close to Roland - he's not even aware if they knew each other - but he has impression enough to think Signless was at least his good friend. The moirallegiance is beyond his knowledge, but the rest is enough still to figure his ancestor won't be doing well. More personally, he knows how harrowing it can be to wait for the return of people gone missing.

[ka_sera_sera]

That reaction to the first part of Roland's statement is noticeable, as it happens - but though Roland knows Initiate's mental control is the Capitol's official explanation, he does not know that it is the one the 'rehabilitated' tributes also believe. He notes the fear, but does not know enough to be sure of the cause. Remnants of the Capitol's hospitality, certainly. Perhaps what he said had put the boy in mind of it. He'd do more harm than good to ask.

"I'll do," he says then at the question, looking surprised at the consideration. Then thinks a second, decides to share his own piece of news. He looks sober as he does it, too much so for someone who, it if were appropriate here and now, maybe ought to be leaping up and shouting for joy. "District seven's got a new tribute. Alain Johns, of Gilead. He and I, we grew up together. We and Cuthbert. He arrived the very day before Signless' sermon." He looks back up at Karkat as he finishes, frowning. That's the closest he can get to voicing his suspicion aloud, because if he didn't know better, that timing-

Well. There's nothing more to do about it now. "And the person you're planning on talking to? The one you trust? Perhaps I should know his or her name. It's good to know who I ought to be looking out for in the next arena." He shrugs. "And maybe I can teach them to make the tea I'm going to be finding for you."

[crabmunicator]

Alain. His head perks up, and it's like a penny dropping, because it finally clicks into place. Cry pardon he'd said, and it struck him in a way he thought was just unusual, but now he remembers that's it's Roland he's heard it from.

"So that's why that guy talked so damn weird. He's like you but worse. I didn't know you knew him." His eyes travel over his face, taking in the frown and all. "I met him then and we talked some."

His lips purse a little at the question, but he goes on. "It's two people, Nill and Dave Strider. And maybe you should talk to this other chick, too. She was going on about plants to me yesterday and stuff made from them that might help. Revas Tabris, something something too many titles, and I can describe any of them if you don't know them. What kind of tea is it?"

[ka_sera_sera]

"Depends on what I can find. Nothing that will solve the whole of your problem, but maybe something to ease things a little. I wouldn't try anything too strong, if you can manage at all without - and if you do, take care about it. This world's drugs are made with humans in mind. Not trolls." Just because none of them has had a bad reaction to anything here yet doesn't mean it can't happen.

He thinks a moment then, trying to match names to faces. "I don't- ah. Dave Strider. He's the one who made that card, didn't he? Of all the ways to make you lose your temper? You may have to help me with the other two."

He slides down to sit on the ground beside Karkat's chair and adds, a little impulsively, "Was Alain truly worse? He was always considered the most agreeable of us, as boys. The servant girls used to pinch his cheeks whenever they came to clean our rooms, if we didn't leave fast enough." Roland makes a thoughtful, surprised sort of noise to himself before focusing again on Karkat's face. That's one of those details you don't expect to remember - but with part of such a distant past up and walking around the tower even as they speak, Roland's past now seems oddly close. Even when it comes to tiny details that the boy in front of him likely cares not one whit about.

[crabmunicator]

"I know," he says, in the way of understanding instead of the snap it could be. "That's why I haven't brought my sleeping issues up around the Capitol much. I can do without, and I don't know what they would try to drug me with if they tried to make a substitute for sopor slime."

He trusts Roland to help, whatever it is luck might give him, and he wont' hold him at fault if it's not much. Even the will to help means something in a situation like this.

"And yes, Dave's the asshole who made the bingo card. Nill is--she has blonde hair, blue eyes, and most notably has a pair of white wings on her back. Feathery, like a bird's. Tabris has short, dark hair and brownish skin with freckles. They're both short, about my height, though it's hard to tell exactly when their hair's different and they don't have horns."

He goes on to amend, "I meant the word choice he makes. The whole thankee, cry pardon, say sorry thing - it's weird. But he wasn't a dick to me if that's what you're asking. The only part I worried about was when he brought up 'slow mutants', but those sounded legitimately fucked up from what he said." And he figures he shouldn't have to explain why talk of mutants would catch him.

[ka_sera_sera]

"Ah." Roland does in fact know why that topic might catch the boy's attention. He considers. He'd thought something when Signless had first told him how Alternia thinks of its mutants, but that had hardly been the time to say it. Now seems a little better. "In my old world, were Trolls known, your own mutation would be considered a little differently."

He eyes the boy, looking for a second like he's sizing him up. "You're strong, healthy, got a fair mind on you. If you've any extra appendages hid away they don't seem to slow you down any. If your blood color's the extent of it, mutations on your world must be very different from those on mine. In any case, the Slow Mutants are something else altogether. It wasn't always so, at least according to some of the tales, but that was a very long time ago. By now they're a species all their own, rather than any mutation of mine. I'd be surprised if a human and one of the Slow Mutants could even breed." If Roland were prone to mental imagery, he might have to take a moment for some of that about now. A long, disturbed moment. Luckily for him, he isn't.

"If you can bear the company, I'd sit with you a while." He leans back on his hands to look at the sky, absently testing his control of his hand's metal fingers by lifting them one at a time and tapping them rhythmlessly against the ground. "Ought to get back soon, maybe, but I needed a moment of what beauty this place can manage. Soon as I can leave for a little longer I'll see about finding those herbs for your dreaming. Hm, maybe sooner if you'd like - I think Aang would look in a few shops for me, if I asked."

[crabmunicator]

Despite being the one to bring it up, the topic settles uncomfortably in his ears as Roland speaks, but not enough to stop him. Roland at least offers no judgement, and as he speaks he lays out the differences in a light that clarifies against what Alain told him already.

Being of the more visual mind, he takes it as his job to curl his lips at the prospect of interbreeding. He's never even seen a Slow Mutant, but Alain's description gave enough of an idea.

"Thank you for that gut-churning idea," he says with all the gratitude of fire for the rain that puts it out. "Now let's never mention it again. They're gross, I'm not, point understood."

But with that out the way, he settles better against his chair.

"I don't mind. I'm stuck in the tower until the next arena, so this is the best I get." There is bitterness in his tone, but it's mild. It's better than a prison cell, and better than the only-his-floor restriction of the old curfew.

With his chin he points to his makeshift footrest. "You can have the other chair if you want. Get the herbs whenever--I'm already used to going without."

[ka_sera_sera]

His gaze follows Karkat's gesture to the other chair and the foot propped up on it. "You need it more than I do," he says, shaking his head. "I can see the sky fine from here. If your friends, your Dave and Nill, need anything, tell them to come to me, aye? I can do little enough for anyone here, but maybe something." Roland sighs, thinking of Signless lying still and quiet on his bed. He shakes his head, shakes it off, and looks up toward the sky, content to leave the conversation at that and let his mind clear, to sit beside the boy and let the talk fade into a moment of peace, if either of them can manage to find it.