thecapitol | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Who| Don and OPEN
What| He's back in the Capitol. Again.
Where| District 9 suite at first, then throughout the Training Center
When| Anytime after Don woke up!
Warnings/Notes| None at the moment.

It was weird to wake up alive again, feeling his arm back, and yet not feeling anything but annoyance. Especially as he had not accomplished what he had set out to do. And he had been taken out by Sigma. But Sigma also died, so it was a comfort. A small one.

Quickly he turned on the television, breathing a long sigh of relief as he saw that Lottie was alive. For now. Maybe she could find others. He could send her supplies. Somehow.

With that, he stood up and walked out of his room. Perhaps he could find Lottie's mentors, convince them to get sponsors for her. That would at least he helpful. Then, he had to figure out what else he could do. There was the girl with the long hair, that he could try and help as well...

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Valeria stared, taking a drink as she did so almost without realizing it, the motion automatic. Finally she just shook her head. "Why on earth not? I mean, I can understand trying it and not liking it, some people are not their best with a few drinks in them, but never?"

"Nope, never." He took a sip of his drink. "It...just never piqued my interest to drink alcohol to begin with. I never found it to be a stimulating thought to try it, even though I've been around it my whole life."

The experience of swimming in sewage littered with crushed beer cans and broken bottles, then wading into dank tunnels that smelled of beer hops wasn't one that led itself into temptation.

She shook her head. "That's just--that's a key part of the human experience you're missing out you realize." She looked Don over and corrected herself after a moment's reflection. "A key part of life experience."

"I know, but like I said, I was never interested." He smiled. "Well, my brother's had some, but...we all learned he's an angry drunk. Not the most pleasant of times."

"Oh, the angry ones," she waved a dismissive hand. "Can't let that sour you on the whole experience. You just ignore those, call a Peacekeeper if they get too rowdy. Or, no, what would you have back home? A 'cop'?"

"Yeah, cops. But they wouldn't be answering our calls back home." Don smiled. "Turtles and all."

She squinted at him, as though looking for some sign of the criminal element. "Why not? They don't like turtles where you're from?"

"Not mutant turtles," Don replied. "We're...a little bit different than normal turtles back home."

"You're mutant--like a muttation? I've never met one that could talk before," Valeria said, then corrected herself. "Well, obviously, I've never met one at all, before."

"Well, I seem to be the equivalent of a muttation, in terms of this world." Don nodded. "So, in a sense, you've now met one."

He sipped his tea.

"Though, my mutation certainly wasn't intended. In fact, it was a completely random, if not serendipitous, event."

"An accident." Valeria tapped her nose and grinned cheekily. "I was one of those too. What were they trying to do, if not end up with, well," she waved a hand at him. It seemed like an amazing result to her, she didn't think the Gamemakers had ever achieved sentience in their creations, for one.

"Actually, they were just transporting radioactive waste and some of it got lose in a freak accident," Don replied, giving her a smile at her comment nevertheless. "It fell into the sewers, we fell into the sewers with it, got covered in it and...that's pretty much it."

"It just...happened?" Valeria asked, wrinking her nose. "That doesn't seem very scientific." It was kind of funny, actually, imagining the faces of any of the scientists she knew upon hearing this.

"It wasn't." Don smiled. "It was a just an accident."

"A lucky accident then," she said, finishing her drink and waving at the bartender for another. "For you, of course, and the Capitol. Everyone just loves you, don't they?"

"Heh." He wanted to say how much he didn't like most of them back. So badly. "Its certainly different from back home, that's for sure. I can walk in broad daylight and no one runs away from me screaming."

"Instead they run towards you screaming now, I bet." She took her new drink and raised it to him, in a mock toast to the wonders being the center of attention, before drinking.

"Eheh...yeah..." He sips. Ah, awkward. "It never gets old."

"Never," Valeria agreed, it never crossing her mind that Don might be being facetious. Who doesn't like attention? "That's what I love about this job. Everybody is...appreciative, don't you think?"

"Very." Though, Don sounded...slightly sad. "Its still incredibly surreal to me. To be appreciated for...well..."

Killing? Being a turtle? Doing everything against what his family was taught to believe?

"They didn't appreciate you back home?" Valeria asked, since Don seemed strangely unhappy suddenly. "Well, I guess if they ran away screaming, that probably doesn't make you feel very appreciated."

"Not very much," Don admitted, finishing his drink. He prepared to order another tea. "Actually, we were being hunted because of it."

~~If Valeria was going to introduce Don to the wonders of alcohol, now would be the perfect time to sabotage his order.~~

"Like you were animals?" Valeria asked, then frowned. "Hm. I mean, you are animals, but, still, that doesn't seem necessary."

This is, in fact, exactly Valeria's plan, as Don's sudden attack of melancholy clearly called for some cheering up. While Don made his order, she gestured emphatically at the bartender from behind him, which hopefully they would understand as 'spike the turtle's drink'. Bartender's got to be used to translating such messages, really.

"It was a little more complicated than that." Don brought his hand onto his fist. "There was a group of people hunting us because our mutant DNA was something they wanted, and then there's the Foot, who's hunting us because their former leader got captured because of us. Not to mention the gangs who hate us for interfering with their cartels and the anti-alien guys who think we're aliens..."

At this, he looked up at the ceiling.

"Pretty much the exact opposite of...this."

"Sounds like it," Valeria agreed, hearing only praise for her home at this point. "We love aliens here, we already know how to mutate things, and of course we don't have gangs or real criminals or anything like that. Must be so much better."