[open] Useless Information

[shiftingurbulls]

Who| Ellis and Open
What| A bit of catch-up with the goober with one closed prompt
Where| See the prompts!
When| August 3 to August 5
Warnings/Notes| Discussions of death, et all

I - Job Searching

Ellis couldn’t say he wasn’t expecting the free ride to be over so soon but such is life. By the way some of the Tributes acted, this little scheme had been going for months, possibly years but only now did the Districts know where their hard-earned work went towards…

Can’t say I blame ‘em, he thought as he peeked over into one of many garages in the Capitol for something he still knew how to do best: fixing cars. He’d been studying the transportation used in Panem and by the looks of things, ever since he had his encounter with Chuck Hansen. Some parts were definitely more advanced, but the engine block, the transmission, they were basically the same here as they were back home.

As much as he loved Rochelle though…there really was no way El would give up his freedom, however limited, to become a Peacekeeper. The Army left a bad taste in his mouth with the way they acted in New Orleans, and with a dick like Black Tom Cassidy in the ranks, the option seemed less viable.

II – Training

There was no telling when the next arena would come and lesson learned: NEVER head to the Cornucopia. The temptation had been too great, and El recognized he was too cocky that first time. It cost him dearly to say the least, as he wasn’t there when Rick and Daryl murdered his friend. Maybe he could have talked some sense into everyone...or at least spared the grumbling diva. Yes, the gambler took Beth's life but in the end...Ellis knew that if it came down to him and the gambler, they would fight it out, no hard feelings on that matter. Anyone walking in would see the young man at his angriest here…and he would defend his right to be this spiteful after losing one of his best friends, and family he knew.

III - Sponsor Sweet-talking

Southern charm still held some value in the Capitol as Ellis chuckled along a rather dull joke one of the socialites told the group. There was a lot to atone for in the eyes of the Tribute, for having acted so foolishly in the last Arena, especially to District 4. So why not raise awareness of stronger, more able compatriots? Like Miss Anna, who made herself a contender? Sure, El could promise a lot of things on his own, but the princess showed the world just how good she could be. Or what about that Nick fella in District 5? He’s a swell man and long-lasting to boot! This arena excluded of course.

As for Rochelle, Ellis decided to praise her article in Celebrus when asked about her. “She’s the type t’ get in on the action, believe me! She was coverin’ the outbreak back home an’ boy howdy, she kept her journalistic integrity through it all!”

Needless to say, El would be singing the praises for his friends.

IV - Date with Nick (Closed)

For all the confidence Ellis exuded at the ball…he still fiddled with his sport jacket and his shirt. He hoped he wasn’t overdressed but he wanted to make a better impression than the last time at the bar. He was pretty damn sure his heart wanted to burst out of his chest but it didn’t…thank fuck.

The mechanic earned enough to make the date worth their while…now all he had to do was knock at the survivor’s door and hope he didn’t reject him.

Comments

I - let's talk shop

[weaintashes]

Not far off, Daryl's methodically tinkering under the hood of one of the cars. He's in mechanic coveralls — with the sleeves already ripped off, of course — a lit cigarette dangling from his mouth, surrounded by various tools scattered on the ground near him. It doesn't pay nearly as well as the Peacekeeper gig, but the part-time work as a mechanic is a hell of a lot more enjoyable, that's for sure. Most importantly, it's honest work. The blood money from Arenas still doesn't sit right with him.

Some of the parts may have an unfamiliar look or function, but the fundamentals remain the same, and he's thus far found that intuition can reconcile any differences between this world's engines and his own world's. The obvious problems are still obvious, the easy fixes still easy. As he's wiping his brow with a forearm, heedless of the grease he's smearing on himself, that's when he notices Ellis.

The conversation about Nick — the one from Ellis's world — was due to happen sooner or later, he figures. It isn't that he's been avoiding Ellis. Between working, dealing with sponsors, taking care of a puppy, continuing to catalogue blind spots, and spending what time he can with Rick, Vivi, and friends, his schedule's simply too full to pencil in intentional avoidance or grudges.

He exhales a plume of smoke with the cigarette still in his mouth, continuing to work on the car for a few moments longer. Then he pauses, stands upright, and holds the cigarette between his fingers as he pointedly looks at Ellis. "Hey," he calls, his tone not unfriendly. "C'mere."

[shiftingurbulls]

Ellis blinked and pointed at himself before coming over, "Whatcha want Dixon? Yer breaks an' mine don't always always meet up." If there was any bitterness in his voice, Daryl knows why. He knows that Nick was a dick but goddamn he missed the man something fierce here. He missed the shots, the comfort the other survivor gave him...Maybe it was time to bury the hatchet, no use spurning revenge on old wounds.

"Somethin' the matter?"

[weaintashes]

"Unfinished business."

This is the first real opportunity he's had to offer Ellis an explanation, and he isn't going to squander it. Whether it will mend any bridges or burn them to cinders is anyone's guess, but Ellis at least deserves to know the truth. Squaring his shoulders, Daryl looks him in the eye.

"Just lemme talk. Pretend to look busy," he suggests, nodding toward the car he's working on before he ducks back under the hood, leaving room enough for Ellis to do likewise if he chooses to. If they just stand there gabbing too obviously, they'll be bitched at to get back to work.

"Last arena, we kept seein' Nick near our camp," he says in a voice low enough that their conversation won't carry. "After what he did to Beth'n that little kid, after we helped you two..." He shakes his head, a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Couldn't trust 'im not to try'n kill the kid — Vivi — who was with us. Or Rick. Hell, even me." He won't pretend to understand Nick; helping him in a prior arena doesn't guarantee he wouldn't have tried to kill Daryl himself, he's sure. For all they'd known, Nick could've been staking out their camp in order to do exactly that.

"Did what we felt we had to," he says simply. "Already knew you were gone, we thought he was alone. Didn't know 'bout Rochelle until later, met her at Luke's camp."

And compared to the drawn out, frankly torturous death that Nick gave Beth, Nick's own death had been merciful. It was over too fast for him to have suffered long, and their presence had deterred anyone from harassing Nick's corpse. In all, it was a better, cleaner death than the man rightly deserved, though Daryl isn't going to say that, out of respect for Ellis's obvious grief.

[shiftingurbulls]

Ellis doesn't mind pretending to look busy, and even more so when he had to confront the truth about Nick's death. Would Nick have been so callous to try and kill Rick and Daryl after they helped him out so much back then? "You were defendin' your turf then?"

As if he didn't know how that felt: to use tooth and nail to defend their stake in the Arena. "I want to hate y'all...I really do," he blurted out, "But for the life of me, I just can't. I hate the fact tha' Nikita's gone but...you were doin' it to keep a kid safe."

As a sign of peace, he passed Dixon a new towel to wipe his face, a white one in fact.

[weaintashes]

Had Ellis chosen the path of least resistance and opted to simply hate them, Daryl would have accepted the decision without surprise. Whatever grudge he's held against Nick over Beth, the other Nick, and Phillip's deaths has dwindled (and the fact is, he'd been prepared to make an alliance with Nick and Ellis before that), but he still keenly understands the desire for vengeance, the burning hatred that can arise from wrongs committed against those you care for.

That Ellis is above that... It brings a curious sense of relief, one which he doesn't fully trust yet. His expression is cautiously wary as he watches the other man for a moment, then he inclines his head slightly and takes the offered shop towel with his free hand. The white flag symbolism of a truce isn't lost on him.

"Dunno why they didn't revive him," he says while wiping some of the grease and sweat off his face. "For what it's worth, 'm sorry to hear it." Doesn't regret killing him, though. Like he'd said, they'd done what they felt was necessary. He hesitates before adding, "Beth's gone, too."

Rather than being any sort of karmic justice, it seems more likely to be an elaborate setup by the Capitol to manufacture more drama and heartache amongst the Tributes. Luke and hat-wearing Nick's group has suffered losses as well; it's troubling.

[shiftingurbulls]

"Maybe they're waitin' for somethin', this is the Capitol an' we're all their toys rather," Ellis voiced allowed, "Some jus' stay in the toy box li'l longer, maybe they're gettin' fixed or som'thin's up on the side."

But it's the news that Beth is gone, an innocent in the mechanic's eyes that deserved to live again. "I'm sorry to hear tha'...I'm sorry for your loss an' for Rick's." Rick Grimes had a paternal side to his demeanor and he's seen the Arena replays.

"How's Mr. Grimes holdin' up?"

[weaintashes]

"Maybe," Daryl agrees without masking the skepticism in his voice. Truthfully, he wishes he were capable of Ellis's level of optimism, combined with Rick's certainty on the matter — enough to believe that Beth really is alright, wherever she's ended up. That's what Beth would want for him too, he knows. She'd pulled him back from the brink of losing himself, and it feels like a betrayal of her faith in him every time he loses hope.

The mention of Rick causes Daryl's features to become noticeably drawn, and he leans back from the car to take a drag of his cigarette while considering the question, gaze dropping to his feet as though they might have the answers.

"Prob'ly blames himself," he replies at length, settling for honesty. He isn't revealing a hidden weakness, or groundbreaking insight, or anything of the sort — one could simply watch any arena replay to understand Rick's priorities, his leadership. "He'd take everythin' on himself if he could, try'n carry the burden alone, if I let him." Something that Rick hasn't said in so many words, but he doesn't have to. Daryl knows him.

"How 'bout you," he counters, looking at Ellis now. "How's life here treatin' you?" Awkward as the question may be, coming from him, his concern is sincere. He doesn't waste his time on social niceties.

[shiftingurbulls]

"He shouldn't...he shouldn't be blamin' himself for wha' happened. He'll drive himself to an early grave at this point," Ellis remarked before he wiped his face clean. "An' it's not his fault tha' the Gamemakers make choices we can't understand."

To think of the Gamemakers as psuedo-Lovecraftian, incomprehensible creatures that held every one of their lives in their grasps made life somehow easier for El. He couldn't imagine human beings being capable of such decisions, to make every life they reaped worthless. More so, children.

"It's been treatin' me all right...I gotta lot of slack to make up for, dyin' at the Copia fucked me over in more ways than I thought," El answered then smiled tenderly, "I might have found someone here, kinda happy with the doofus. If only he'd loosen up..."

Nick was his doofus, a close friend he was falling for hard.

[weaintashes]

Daryl has expressed as much to Rick before, in his own way. He probably worries about the other man's health and state of mind far more than Rick himself does, in truth, but it's the kind of burden he doesn't mind shouldering. One thing people never expect about Daryl: he has a knack for taking care of others when he puts his mind to it.

Ellis's confession makes him raise his eyebrows in surprise — not at Ellis finding someone, but that he's sharing that fact with him — and a corner of his mouth quirks up in a half-smirk. "Sounds like a damn romance novel," he says, his tone light enough to make his teasing apparent.

The situation in Panem isn't exactly conducive for romance, what with the death matches, repeated dying, indentured servitude, totalitarian regime... Though still arguably better than any of the walker apocalypse-ruined worlds, he supposes. And having someone, even in the capacity of a friend, does make everything that much more bearable, he's found.

"Anyone I'd know?" he asks as he turns away to rifle through one of the drawers of a tool chest. Partly out of necessity, but also so his question doesn't seem like an interrogation. It isn't often that he'll even ask these sorts of things, but Ellis had volunteered the information first.

[fuckitall]

Capitolites love to party, even on weekdays. The last couple of nights working at the bar had Nick returning to his room very well late into the evening, sometimes morning. The pay isn't as horrid, but he made enough combined with the tips he had been given. It's also nice that he isn't expected to talk much about himself while at work. Sure, there had been a few "fans" here and there, asking about the usual shit about arenas (to which Nick would always give the same answers), but otherwise...mixing drinks is almost another form of therapy to take his mind off things.

Still, the last shift had tired him out enough for him to sleep in his work clothes, which is just simply a pair of black slacks and buttoned up shirt, accompanied with a blue vest to match with the bar's theme. Even hours after waking up and washing his face, he doesn't bother to change and just opts to lay in bed for a while to enjoy this downtime before his shift starts again tomorrow.

The thought about calling Ellis comes to mind. They both had agreed to go on a date since the ball - a notion Nick still can't believe actually happened. Ellis has that personality that draws people in and welcomes them, even. Nick is no exception. If they had met when the days were normal and dead things stayed still, he might have given the mechanic a few glances. Whatever Ellis sees in him though, is a near god damn mystery.

He only just barely fixes his hair by running his hand through it as he goes to answer the door. Speak of the fucking devil.

"Ellis? What's this about?" Nick trails his gaze down at the other and makes his way back up at eye level. The last time he really talked to Ellis was at the ball when they were both dressed like Medieval Times actors. He looks good with what he has on right now, but he waits for the other to explain before he so much as admits that out loud.

[shiftingurbulls]

Nick will never see just how many times Ellis practice what he'd say in the mirror because the number gets ridiculous to confess. Instead, he tries his best Clark Gable voice (shh, it's the go-to guy in his mind to be smooth) and smirks, "I was hopin' y'weren't too tired to head out for a night with me? I know you work at a bar but lemme treat ya to a few, on me?"

If this survivor seems out of his mind, he wasn't. Ellis figured that, just as he did back at the Ball, that life was too short to let slip by.

"Whaddya say, sugar?" and of course he'd use the nickname now.

[fuckitall]

Brows crease at the impression of the ever famous actor known for Gone with the Wind. The film was hardly a romantic comedy but with Ellis standing there, dressed up and looking so eager like a puppy wanting to go out to play, the irony of it has the corners of Nick's lip tugging to a smirk. He doesn't bother hiding it. He's admitted to himself a while ago that Ellis's presence brings some life back to him.

"Sure thing." He'd add a "my dear" to fit the theme but decides against it because even he can't live that down. Although a part of him is tempted to try to do his own impression...might take some alcohol to get in the mood though. Voice impressions had always been a thing he would do with friends.

His amused smirk goes away for just a moment as he remembers where they are, face drawing concern. "You don't gotta treat me though. With money bein' real tight for all of us now..."

Nick is no stranger to penny pinching, but he can pay for his own.

[shiftingurbulls]

If there's any moment that the mechanic realized what his date caught on, Ellis shrugged it off with a grin. "Money may be tight but I ain't lettin' life slip me by. I'm not one t' stay put if y'all haven't realized by now," he taunted along. The man seemed to be made of energy as he would dropped off his overalls and immediately rushed to get some training done and letters to Sponsors that could be interested in District 4.

"I wanna treat ya because tha's what the person askin' someone else out on the date does. I've been workin' an' gettin' good tips. You're not takin' food outta my mouth, okay?"

He knows Nick worried about everything, Ellis took away one item off that endless list.

[fuckitall]

Nick has a decent bullshit detector but it's telling him that Ellis means it and not just out of courtesy either. He's really going for it.

"And here I thought you wanted to treat me because you like me," he says with a teasing smile. Before Ellis can respond, he quietly mutters for the other to hold on a second and steps back to his suite. He quickly slips off the blue vest, leaving on just the slacks and collared shirt. Nick soon shows up at the door again to close it behind him before snapping on his gold watch. It never stopped ticking.

"Alright," Nick nods as he combs his hair back with a hand. The hat is left behind this time. "Lead the way."

[shiftingurbulls]

"Well I coulda said tha' but yer more of a skeptic," Ellis shot back with a shit-eating grin, "Loosen up, sugar, we're gonna live this one life we have here, no matter how many times we go to the Arena." He knows that the process of bringing them back to life was a mystery that he didn't want to find out on his own. So why question it? Why bring up the fact? To remind Nick that they were given a chance. It's not patriotic, it's selfish and he knows it.

"You look good," Ellis taunted, wiggling his eyebrows in a playfully lecherous way, "Any particular poison?"

[fuckitall]

"You don't make it much of a secret that you do, I guess." Nick says as much for himself to hear too. Ellis isn't wrong - he still finds it hard to believe that there's someone who actually would find him attractive. Not that it'd be the first time, but he knows that throughout his entire time here he hasn't exactly gone completely out of his way to make himself appealing to the masses. Ellis has just that level of optimism and honesty that makes it hard even for Nick to shoot him down. Hopefully it'll stay that way.

The compliment has Nick mutter his thanks, responding more audibly with a "you too" before considering his answer to the question.

"Surprise me." He says with a shrug. He'd like to think he had tried every sort of drink offered in the Captiol, but since becoming a bartender, he's learned otherwise.

That, and just sitting and talking with Ellis all night sounds more appealing than anything else right now.

[shiftingurbulls]

Be careful what you wish for, Nick, because Ellis can and will talk the night away with someone he enjoys. Ellis may not have been the partying type but he knows that sometimes, people need to relax. "Man, I wish this place had some Southern Comfort, we'd be back at the tower an' just boozin' it up like you would back home!"

But it's that exact thought in mind that he orders two strange drinks that wouldn't be out of place from the American South: moonshine.

"But at least they have this stuff here."

ii.

[theyoungperish]

With the Victor Reels coming out the past week, Chuck wasn't all too surprised to see his own Arena splashed across screens for everyone to see. It wasn't like he was ashamed, or offended, or any of the ways he's seen other Victors react. But then again, Chuck was from a Career district, and he was maybe more like the once Careers than he'd thought. But it was old news seeing his Game, seeing Derek's. The Capitol touted them whenever they felt like it, asked the same old questions, got the same answers worded maybe a little differently.

It was easy. He'd already lived through the hard part, had slaughtered all those kids, all those mutts, and he didn't regret that. How could he? Only one was going to live, and he'd always said it was going to be him.

In any case, Chuck goes about his day as if it's any other. Which means he's in the Training Center by the time Ellis shows up and gets set, a spear in his scarred hands, destroying all the flickering "enemies" the hologram machine puts up. He pauses it when he sees his angry tribute though, head cocked. He's not one to tell him not to be angry -- that's all Chuck knows -- instead, he turns, heads Ellis' way.

"Hey," it's a heads up, just enough. Chuck holds his spear out for an Avox to take, and gestures, "Punchin' bag won't help, show me what you got."

[shiftingurbulls]

Being beckoned by his mentor, particularly one as open as Chuck, was a bit of a surprise for Ellis as he made his way over. "Uh, me? You want me to fightcha? Why?" The Training Simulations do a great job and while Ellis loves good rough-housing but at least those dummies don't get hurt.

And after that victor reel? There's probably...rage.

[theyoungperish]

There is rage, of course. Chuck hasn't been without it since he was a child and his mother died, buried alive in a building. But he isn't extraordinarily angry today, simply proactive.

Ellis' dithering gets a droll look, head cocked.

"Easier to see where you're at if I get it first hand." He beckons, again, impatiently. "C'mon."

[shiftingurbulls]

Ellis was not keen on adding to Chuck's troubles. "Yer gonnna have a lotta work to do, I ain't no professional at this," the mechanic before donning a rather amateur boxing pose, and launching a right hook towards his Mentor's face.

El was so sure of this that he fully expected Hansen to berate him for not training enough. He knows he's slacking off something fierce with the mechanic job...but maybe he's being too harsh on himself.

[theyoungperish]

"Trained kids," he states, idly, as if training children to slaughter each other was just another facet of life. Mostly, because it was. "Not the worst I've seen."

But it isn't great, either. He shifts out if the way, catching Ellis' forearm and yanking him forward, jabbing quickly at his belly, his throat. He moved quickly and efficiently, mouth a thoughtful line even as he lets go and steps back. "Dead."

[shiftingurbulls]

Ellis certainly felt dead because...he might feel like that from the sheer surprise of all the blows and how fast they were. It was almost like Chuck disabled his higher functions for a few seconds.

"Wha' jus' happened?" he managed to croak and stabilize himself. "Did I die for a second? Holy SHIT, tha' was awesome!"

Though he puts Garrett's few lessons into good use and looks at his Mentor for weaknesses.

[theyoungperish]

The thing is, Chuck's Tributes confuse the hell out of him. Has since the first time he met them, and probably will continue to do so for as long as he knows them. But Ellis is at least entertaining, and he listens to advice given. Chuck kind of likes him, in so far as he likes anybody who isn't Derek.

So he snorts with laughter, shifting, balancing his weight easily. Chuck isn't without his weaknesses, but he's spent half his life fighting, he knows how to fight and how-to kill and how to defend.

But he doesn't miss Ellis' scoping him out, and there's an approving nod.

[shiftingurbulls]

Ellis took note of the way Chuck's body behaved and looked for any similarities to things he's encountered. The man was nothing like a Charger, and yet had the strength of one. But there had to be a weakness, or something he could use to his own advantage.

Ribs are too risky...but what if...

The next attempt had Ellis pull a feint, swiping Chuck with a weaker left hook but slamming his right onto his face. He's here to learn and to survive.