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.
no subject
He had thought to maybe pick up his book and leave, but that notion is gone, at least for the moment, swept away with the wide gestures of his hands.
"At least Gamzee had the most twisted application of the word dignity to yet disgrace my lingual flap to look me in the eye when he literally stabbed me through the chest." His palm pats against it, one side then the other, corresponding with the circles of the Cancer sign. He's dressed down, and he's going to be staying plain for a while after this. "At least Gamzee didn't pretend he cared and dumped me straight up when he shoved his head too far up his ass--whoops! I mean into his 'religion'." He mimes quotes. "What should I have expected, right? Everyone knows praising the Messiahs and the wicked murdermirth of the Dark Carnival is going to end well for the whole party!
"But him--" And here his teeth bare, flashing their rounded points as he bites out each word. "'Initiate Fraysong', and fuck him for having a title--he pretends like he's anything different. He makes me give him a shot for Terezi's sake, when I should have known from the start that her and another clown would never end well. I mean, Gamzee only tried to kill her! So what's another Makara twisting her spine around his finger? She defended him when he slammed me into a wall, for fuck's sake, but that bulgebiter turned me around enough in that arena with his chucklevoodoos and empty promises that I thought maybe I might give him a chance and set things back on neutral ground.
"Then comes the Crowning, with all its stained glass windows showing the story of my ancestor's life, and of course there's ones with him in it. And he feeds me this big stupid story about how he came here and the people around him slowly got him to change, that there was something worth here being different for, and he played it all humble like it was everyone else he wanted to help." His eyes roll.
"Of course I bought the whole of it, and when this came up..."
He trails off there. He can't say what exactly went down, not for safety's sake. Initiate might have been a traitor, but there were other people involved who didn't know any better, who meant well.
"... What choice did I have? He brought me into believing him with his mind powers and didn't give me one chance to apply a singular bit of logic to what he might be doing, and if not for him being caught I am positive my reward would have been painting the gutters red." It might not mean as much to Linden unless he paid attention at the Signless's Crowning, but Karkat still carries a self-loathing vitriol when he spits out that color.
"So yes, Linden, my reaction is disappointment." He straightens up, something cynical and tired in his eyes. "Gosh, Initiate, couldn't you have been upfront when you screwed over every sense of trust I had? Even the Empress relayed it straight when she decreed my reward for helping her would be slavery. For shame."
He finally picks up his book just as he drops the sarcastic tone.
"Fuck you for saying that. I don't know what kind of betrayal you've dealt with in your life, but when someone messes with my head and proves summarily what a panrotted idiot I was for giving him any chance, it's not disappointment my feelings react with."
no subject
Furious. Bitter. Betrayed. Disappointed, times a thousand. Though he was high out of his mind at the Signless' Crowning, it means something to him. He's not survived this long by totally checking out every time he shoots up, and he'd admittedly spent most of his time at that particular event taking in the stained glass images.
He crosses his bony arms loosely in front of his chest, leaning back against the guardrail, seeming untroubled by Karkat's insult. "You're right," he says hollowly. "You don't know, but I'm sort of famous for it, actually? You can ask anyone in Panem."
Unspoken, but weirdly barbed and clear, are the words except for me.
"Ask Nill, for that matter. She cares more about understanding what actually happened there more than most Capitolites, let alone offworlders."
But don't let it keep you from your reading.
no subject
"Well, excuse me for not prying into your past on my own time!" His empty hand flings up. "If I had known you expected me to dig into all your traumas and know everything, then I would have sat my ass down for suffering a long time ago. How about I go down now and watch the highlight real, then come back and needle you over every moment? Did anyone die for you? Did you have to kill people? No wait, don't spoil the surprise!"
He'd kick the chair if his leg weren't injured.
"And don't tell me to go ask Nill. I don't need a relay for your awful past when I've got my own life to sort out, and it's not her job to tell me for you."
no subject
"I think the words you're looking for are 'I'm sorry,'" he replies softly.
no subject
"Nope!" He flings up his hands, and despite the book in one manages to raise both middle fingers. "Take that apology and sit on it, nookwipe! I'm out."
And finally he turns to limp off to the elevator. He's going to go order some kind of extravagant sundae from the restaurant downstairs if Linden lets him go. In his judgement he deserves it after this mess.
no subject