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thecapitol2013-05-14 11:04 pm
amplifying) wrote in thecapitol2013-05-14 11:04 pm
Entry tags:
circuitry ◎ ( open! )
Who| Beck and YOU!
What| Adjusting isn't easy. Still.
Where| All around the Capitol.
When| Ummm, from now until near the beginning of the Games, maybe? It's a catch-all log so I'm pretty flexible!
Warnings/Notes| TBA.
LOUNGE
Okay, so he wouldn't lie- the lounge area here isn't all that bad.
The feel is modern enough and the colors are nice (they're not the colors he's used to, but it reminds him enough of home to make him at least feel somewhat settled), and the couches are nice and soft. It even had a bar...but they didn't provide the drinks that he was used to. Some of them tasted kind of funny, and if he drank too many, he couldn't walk right, and sometimes made him a little sick afterwards. Yeah. Now he knew why Daniel talked so little about feeling 'nauseated'.
It reminds him of hanging out with Mara and Zed in the clubs. Even though the lounge could be one of Beck's favorite places to be, it's also the place that makes him the most homesick. A lot of the time when he sat here, he would find himself thinking about home, and what was going on, and whether Tron was trying to find out where he was...or even what was going on in the revolution.
He missed Argon and Tron a lot, to the point where it felt like he hurt inside.
Beck was in the lounge now, sitting in a corner a little farther away from the middle. More times than not people with the craziest of styles would come in with cameras that were flashing, and cameras that floated in the air. Some people asked for full-blown interviews, others asked for pictures for a feed. What was nice was that some people were more popular than Beck was.
They asked about his home and why he wouldn't kill anyone. He gave answers.
Simple as that.
He had the Games back home, and he managed to live through those without derezzing another Program. And maybe, he could do it here, too.
CAPITOL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY
Okay. So every User had a skeleton. With skeletons came muscles. Tendons connected the muscles to skeletons. Ligaments connected pieces of the skeleton to each other.
Beck was buried into a rather large medical book, with many others stacked up beside him. If the Games were going to happen again, he would have to learn more about the User body before he went out a second time. If he wanted to survive a day, then he'd have to learn about the body. It was complicated, and a lot of it was more annoying than not, but he could deal with this.
This is something he could operate.
You might find him there still reading over various bodily functions or gross things like that, or maybe pacing around and getting his bearings. He can only read big books with big words for so long, anyway.
ROOFTOPS
While the lounge was nice, it didn't give Beck the time to think.
Well, he thought about things, but not about what life was going to be like for him, or what he was here for. The lounge made him think of home and his friends, of Tron and the clubs. It made him think about the good times he's had before, and how much he utterly misses all of it.
But the rooftops make him think of now. Of the future.
The wind blows through his hair as he makes his way past the very many gardens, some more eye-catching than others. One is just filled with flowers and flowers galore, the other has a covering of branches and vines that you can actually sit under, if the sun's a bit too harsh. But Beck prefers to stand near the edges of the building. But not because he's planning on doing something he really shouldn't.
He can see everything up here. From all of the buildings, to the land beyond. It gives him a chance to stand and think. What's he going to do when the Arena happens again? What will they expect him to do? Could he even have a chance, now that he knew his body a little more than before?
...Beck didn't have any good answers for those questions. And for the time being, he was going to wait for the answers. It wasn't like he had any other choice.
But as calmly as he took this, he felt anything but it.
He worried. He worried about himself and the others that would have to compete again out there. What would Tron say about all of this? Would he be disappointed, too? What would he expect Beck to do?
As he stands by the edge, he lets his head hang, and sighs. What would Tron do?
Or, what could he do?
What| Adjusting isn't easy. Still.
Where| All around the Capitol.
When| Ummm, from now until near the beginning of the Games, maybe? It's a catch-all log so I'm pretty flexible!
Warnings/Notes| TBA.
LOUNGE
Okay, so he wouldn't lie- the lounge area here isn't all that bad.
The feel is modern enough and the colors are nice (they're not the colors he's used to, but it reminds him enough of home to make him at least feel somewhat settled), and the couches are nice and soft. It even had a bar...but they didn't provide the drinks that he was used to. Some of them tasted kind of funny, and if he drank too many, he couldn't walk right, and sometimes made him a little sick afterwards. Yeah. Now he knew why Daniel talked so little about feeling 'nauseated'.
It reminds him of hanging out with Mara and Zed in the clubs. Even though the lounge could be one of Beck's favorite places to be, it's also the place that makes him the most homesick. A lot of the time when he sat here, he would find himself thinking about home, and what was going on, and whether Tron was trying to find out where he was...or even what was going on in the revolution.
He missed Argon and Tron a lot, to the point where it felt like he hurt inside.
Beck was in the lounge now, sitting in a corner a little farther away from the middle. More times than not people with the craziest of styles would come in with cameras that were flashing, and cameras that floated in the air. Some people asked for full-blown interviews, others asked for pictures for a feed. What was nice was that some people were more popular than Beck was.
They asked about his home and why he wouldn't kill anyone. He gave answers.
Simple as that.
He had the Games back home, and he managed to live through those without derezzing another Program. And maybe, he could do it here, too.
CAPITOL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY
Okay. So every User had a skeleton. With skeletons came muscles. Tendons connected the muscles to skeletons. Ligaments connected pieces of the skeleton to each other.
Beck was buried into a rather large medical book, with many others stacked up beside him. If the Games were going to happen again, he would have to learn more about the User body before he went out a second time. If he wanted to survive a day, then he'd have to learn about the body. It was complicated, and a lot of it was more annoying than not, but he could deal with this.
This is something he could operate.
You might find him there still reading over various bodily functions or gross things like that, or maybe pacing around and getting his bearings. He can only read big books with big words for so long, anyway.
ROOFTOPS
While the lounge was nice, it didn't give Beck the time to think.
Well, he thought about things, but not about what life was going to be like for him, or what he was here for. The lounge made him think of home and his friends, of Tron and the clubs. It made him think about the good times he's had before, and how much he utterly misses all of it.
But the rooftops make him think of now. Of the future.
The wind blows through his hair as he makes his way past the very many gardens, some more eye-catching than others. One is just filled with flowers and flowers galore, the other has a covering of branches and vines that you can actually sit under, if the sun's a bit too harsh. But Beck prefers to stand near the edges of the building. But not because he's planning on doing something he really shouldn't.
He can see everything up here. From all of the buildings, to the land beyond. It gives him a chance to stand and think. What's he going to do when the Arena happens again? What will they expect him to do? Could he even have a chance, now that he knew his body a little more than before?
...Beck didn't have any good answers for those questions. And for the time being, he was going to wait for the answers. It wasn't like he had any other choice.
But as calmly as he took this, he felt anything but it.
He worried. He worried about himself and the others that would have to compete again out there. What would Tron say about all of this? Would he be disappointed, too? What would he expect Beck to do?
As he stands by the edge, he lets his head hang, and sighs. What would Tron do?
Or, what could he do?
no subject
The question was a good one, R not sure how to answer it. It wasn’t really something people really talked about, humans or zombies and the Boneys definitely liked things the way they were. Someone like Beck would kick their status quo to pieces. They’d probably kill him even if they weren’t maneaters, just on principle.
R struggled to think of good, solid advice aside from “put a big, solid door between you and me”.
“Re…cognize…signs? Stay away…from me in…Corn…ucopia.”
Probably the best thing he could say for now. They started him starving last Arena, probably to give the other Tributes a nice, hungry speedbump and they might do it again next one. If Beck was smart, he’d let R get to someone else instead.
no subject
"I could do that." He said, looking over to the zombie and offering him another smile. "But it wasn't exactly what I meant."
It probably wasn't a good idea to try and help R in the middle of the Games; that much he knew from the whole dinner experience. The only way he'd be able to help this User is if he was one of them himself. Which, well, he kind of couldn't be, since he wasn't corrupt like they were. But, if there was a way to help him otherwise..."I meant more around here. Outside of the Games."
no subject
"Um..." he wheezed to stall, trying to think. "Need help...keeping busy. Talk....ing...maybe? Human...things."
It did help they fed him some kind of flesh substitute in the Capitol. It didn't make the hunger go away - all it did was put it down to a manageable buzz in the back of his skull and in his bones, nothing like that driving force that made him jump someone like Beck and he sometimes felt irritated, unsatisfied. Talking and hanging out and aping being a person like everyone else was distracting. R could use distracting. The zombie shrugged at Beck, not sure why he'd be so keen on helping one of the Tributes who killed him.
The thing was he did know why, thanks to feeding. Beck was genuinely a good person. Maybe this was him doing what he did best, getting in over his head like everything else because he stepped up to the plate.