thecapitol | (no subject)

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Who| Adachi and you~
What| Adachi's introduced to Panem and the Hunger Games. He is not amused.
Where| District 1 Apartment level, exploring the floor(s).
When| Day of his arrival
Warnings/Notes| N/A as of yet

You are honored to be brought to Panem to compete in the Hunger Games.

Like hell he was.

Adachi kept up the innocent act at the brief explanation as to why he was suddenly in this place. It was how he protected himself, after all; playing the role of the clown and let people just assume he was nothing special. It helped him get dismissed by those "Gamemaker" creeps rather quickly, so he could get on with figuring out how he got to this messed up world, and better yet, how to get out.

So far, though, he wasn't having any luck, not that he had much of a chance to explore yet. He was shown to his quarters -- which was really ridiculously lavish and maybe the little starry-eyed act he gave when it was revealed to him would have been genuine if he wasn't going to be shoved into some death battle. Seriously, he had never even seen this much expensive stuff in his life, not to mention be able to afford it on his salary. He flopped down on the bed as his guide explained to him his new communicator and credit card, before finally leaving. It was about damn time, because Adachi had just been waiting for the opportunity to wipe off the clown make up and glare at the door.

He fiddled with the communicator first, briefly trying to figure out if it was supposed to be some kind of new fangled cellphone thing, before giving up and shoving it into a pocket. The credit card got a particular look of distaste before he shoved it into a pocket as well; yay, he has money to spend as compensation for being sent to his death. Fabulous.

After that? He was so out of that room, and the happy-go-lucky look was painted back on his face as he headed down the hall, trying to see who else was on this floor, if anyone.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Howard lives on District 1's floor, not like anyone would know it from observation. He's been doing his best to avoid it, and is only returning now because he's returning some stolen items from a garbage can to his hoard of treasures under the bed (right now it's some batteries and a broken radio that he plans on fixing). He has them tucked down the front of his oversized jacket and is acting, for all intents and purposes, shady. He sneaks and peeks around corners, closes doors behind him extremely silently, and is about to make it to his bedroom when he notices that that means crossing the hall where Adachi is walking.

He pauses for a moment in the doorway, then slips back into the room he came from, hoping that he hasn't been noticed.

Howard was completely out of luck, because although Adachi had the look of someone that was completely out of his element (which was so painfully true; hell just one of the curtain panels probably cost his entire month's salary) and didn't know what the heck he was doing (which wasn't true), it was hard for him to miss someone sneaking around like that. Even still, he just barely caught him out of the corner of his eye, and had to debate with himself a moment if he had really seen someone or not... and then there was the whole issue of how to deal with it.

Never know who's watching...

Adachi settled on continuing as he had been, pausing outside the room the person had disappeared back into.

"Hunh..." he said loudly, "wonder if I have this whole floor to myself."

Well. He's clearly been caught. Howard stays very still in the kitchen, the room he's retreated to, for about ten seconds before saying "no, I live here too". It's far too late for him to sound as if he wasn't trying to hide that fact, but maybe he can pretend he was just distracted.

He pokes his head out into the hall, noting Adachi and then glancing each way as if he's about to cross a busy street. "Is anyone else up here besides you, new guy?" He slinks a bit towards the door to his bedroom, not afraid of Adachi but of other suitemates showing up.

Adachi let out a curious noise at his behavior, though on the inside he felt his stomach bottom out. This was... a kid, wasn't it? Had to be around Saki's age, maybe... man, this place was messed up.

"Er... I saw a turtle before, but I think he wandered off," he replied. Things he thought he would never have to say...

Howard sizes up the guy. Older than him, but that's nothing new. Bigger, too, although as Howard just may be the smallest person in the Arena that also isn't saying much (the ten year-old might have him beaten in both weight and height, how sad is that).

Adachi doesn't seem to be a threat at the moment. No weapons that Howard can see, and Howard bets he can outrun him, if he has to. And Adachi looks a little taken aback at Howard, which seems to be the running theme between 'people who don't like the idea of killing a scrawny fifteen year-old'. Howard could use more of those people in the arena.

"Oh. Yeah. That guy. He broke my nose once." Howard taps the tip of his nose to illustrate, then drops his hand back down to keep the radio from sliding out from under his jacket. "You seen the television yet? I mean, what's on the television?"

Adachi slouched over a little more, not that he really needed to. The age thing did bother him, and he was really having a hard time picturing these people forcing kids to fight and die for their entertainment until he mentioned his nose getting broken. His eyes followed his hand down to his jacket, not sure if that was a weapon under there or what. After all, he wasn't sure if Tributes would wait until the Game actually started...

"Er... that's not very nice," he muttered, before shaking his head at his question. "Nah, I just got here. 'Sides, me and TVs have an awkward relationship."

"Oh? Did one try to steal your soul or something?" He reaches over and feels the knob to his door behind his back. "Or did a creepy ghost girl crawl out of one and try to murder you? Because I hear that can happen if you watch the wrong home movies."

Howard's voice is the kind of inane chatter one would expect while trying to talk themselves out of a bind; too fast, and relatively pointless.

Adachi visibly flinched; Howard, you are hitting way too many sensitive subjects all in the space of a breath.

"Ah... l-let's not talk about... that..." he replied quickly as soon as the chattering paused. "What's so important on the TV anyway?"

"What? Why? Are you from that religion that's afraid of cameras or something?" Because if so, Adachi's going to hate Panem. "And the television just shows you exactly what you're getting into."

"...it's complicated."

Because really, he wasn't about to explain Shadows and Personae, and little dead girls and the goddess that spawned them and everything else that happened since that first time falling into the TV. Besides, he already had a feeling that the less people -- especially the jerks watching them -- that knew about his abilities, the better.

"What I'm gettin' into, hunh..." he muttered, folding his hands behind his head. "So... what? T-they're just kidding when they said we're fighting to the death, right...?"

Oh, he already knows the answer to that one, and he still doesn't like it.

Howard shakes his head, then stops. He turns the doorknob under his hand. "Well, it's for a given value of death, I guess. Since you get brought back."

But Howard doesn't know if that makes it easier, and that's written into the way he says those words, dull and dead as if they're coming from far away. It's written into the look in his eyes as if he's seeing something past Adachi, the way he keeps glancing around like the air itself is going to attack him if he doesn't keep an eye on it.

Man, the kid was all jitters... After a moment, he let out a sigh.

"Hunh... guess I was being obvious, hunh?" he asked, scrunching up his face. Weird, normally it's hard for people to finger him as a detective. "Hey, kid, whatever you're carrying, relax, all right? It's not like there's a department I can drag you to, or anything."

Even if there was, like hell he would rat out on a kid in a place like this. If anyone needed to be arrested, it was those Gamemakers.

"Just wanna know what this place is all about, 'ya know?" he continued, rubbing the back of his neck. "Like, what do you mean they bring you back? I mean... when you're dead, you're dead."

"You're police?" Howard hadn't put that all together, but that doesn't seem to calm him down even a little. If anything, it seems to make him even edgier. But he unzips his jacket and reveals his prize, the busted radio with smears of garbage still on it and the handful of batteries. "It's just stuff from the garbage, you can't get me in trouble for that anyway. You can't."

He places them on the carpeted floor in front of him, then stands back up.

"You don't die for good. They make you do it over and over and even when you're not even over the last time, they're getting ready to throw you back in."

Adachi glanced down at the... well, there was no nice way to say it. It was totally garbage, and he fixed the kid with an incredulous look at that. Seriously? Really? This was what he was so damn protective of? What in the hell... it wasn't even over the fact he was a detective either! Sheesh!

And what he had to say didn't set very well with his stomach either. He made a face, even more disgusted by this shitty world; time to officially take back everything bad he ever even thought about Inaba, let alone said.

"...this is crazy."

Howard keeps glancing around. He dives his hands into his pockets and twitches his head to look over his shoulder, then the other way. It's clear he doesn't feel safe even without his hoard - it's not Adachi that he fears here.

"Yeah. Yeah, it is. Look, do you mind that we not have this conversation in the hallway? I mean, you can come into my room if you want, I just..."

There's the sound of elevator dinging and he startles a bit, but there's a voice saying "wait, this is the wrong floor" and no one enters.

Adachi followed his gaze to where the elevators were, raising an eyebrow. He didn't get it yet, but... well, if there were people keeping an eye on them -- and he had no doubt that there was at least a few cameras around recording them -- then he could understand his edginess. He gave a nod, bending down to scoop up the junk for the kid.

Howard closes the door behind them and seems to relax a fraction. "Thanks, thanks. There's people I don't want to run into on this floor."

Howard's bedroom is organized chaos. He takes the radio and batteries from Adachi and sets them on a pile of similarly smelly, broken junk. He obviously has an affinity for broken things, and stacks of electronics, lightbulbs, office supplies and neatly-folded clothing make walking through the room difficult. The bed in the center of the room is made, but smells of sweat.

"I done the Arena twice, so I can, um. I can answer questions if you want. But it's all true, everything you hear, fighting to the death and coming back. It's like the gladiator games but the series keeps getting renewed with the same cast."

Edited 2013-03-16 19:04 (UTC)

Adachi fought against the urge to gag at the smell. H-holy crap, kid, invest in an air cleaner. Please.

"That's... seriously messed up."

There was no excuse for this; people didn't exist just for the entertainment of the rich and famous. Man, if any world needed to be covered in fog, just to save people from themselves...

"How often do these things happen?"

"Yeah, yeah, it is. It could be worse, I guess. At least they treat us like royalty here." Although that also puts Howard on edge. He's a twitchy kid. He sees the look of discomfort on Adachi's face and tries not to think about it. Instead he goes over to one of his stacks of stuff and straightens it. A hairdryer, boxes of dandruff treatment, some board games and a few balls of rubber bands are visible.

"Every few weeks. We're just getting geared up for the next one."

Adachi's eyes widened; few weeks?! Just starting the next one?! HE IS NOT PREPARED.

"Y-you're kidding?! I-I'm not going to be... I mean, I just got here... right?"

He might have sounded maybe a little too hopeful.

"Oh, boo fricking hoo." Howard turns and looks at Adachi with an expression only slightly less disgusted than a sneer. Slightly. "I got dumped in halfway through. At least you get a few days to process it. I got ten minutes."

He turns back to his stash of things and strokes his lower lip as he considers something, then picks up the batteries, pulls a box out from under the bed and sets them in there instead.

Adachi pressed a hand to his forehead, trying to think something beyond how insane this all was. He... just... and they... dammit! He could really use Naoto or Dojima-san here right now; they'd be able to keep a cool head, no matter how insane this all was. Er... well, maybe Naoto-kun over Dojima-san; his partner would probably be busting down doors demanding an explanation for this bullshit.

Hell, anyone from the Investigation Team, even Teddie, was preferable to being on his own in this.

"Is... well, is not killing people an option?"

"Sure, but that just means they'll kill you." Howard shrugs, but he looks a little ill. He's still not comfortable with the four kills he's racked up.

"They? The Gamemakers, or...?"

"No. Everyone else. People like me and the other people down the halls."