thecapitol | circuitry ◎ ( open! )

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?

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Today R's riding the elevators, indulging his hobby. It's like a little piece of home. While there's not a whole lot to see compared to the airport conveyors, R still likes the repetition, mashing his finger against the button and feeling the elevator shift as it starts up all over again. Sometimes it's the little things that get you shuffling from one day to the next.

For the most part anyone who gets in the elevator ignores him - they sometimes give an offended sniff as the perfume he's soaked in wafts out in waves and then they're in a hurry to get out; other times they glance at him and then do that whole "let's pretend we're not in the same space" deal. (R almost thinks he remembers that when he was living. Apparently elevators are awkward).

The zombie's taking a break and leaning heavily against the side of the elevator when he comes in, alive, not chewed up. His head looks a lot nicer when it's in one piece.

R recognizes him immediately. Now he wishes he could dig his own grave, right here. Right now.

Beck.

The doors are already closed by the time R realizes he wants to make a get-away. Uh oh. This could go south really, really soon once Beck realizes who he's sharing an elevator with. R's already cringing inside.

Edited 2013-05-16 21:34 (UTC)

He's not really sure why he's at the library. He can't read the language here. He doesn't know what the Capitol did to him so he could understand the spoken word of this place, but as he looks at the writing all he can see are illegitimate lines and curves and he gets so lost. It's a far cry from the sharp lines and angles of Alternian, but he's almost certain he can learn it.

Almost.

He has a stack of children's books in his arms, but he doesn't get too far before even that becomes too much for him to carry and he has to drop them. Beck's table is the closest one to him so he doesn't even care if it might be rude, those books have to leave his arms right now.

Wow.

Humans are so gross.

The Psiioniic makes a noise of disgust at the diagrams he sees. That's just not normal.

"Why are you reading that?"

Beck doesn't like the User elevators.

They're slow and he can't see out of them. All he can see is a reflection of himself in a reflection in himself, and it kind of drives him nuts. They're square and they're boxy and they stop way too often for him. In Argon, he was used to going up, going down. It knew where he wanted to go without pushing any buttons, or saying where to go. It was a lot easier. And faster. And convient.

He would have taken the stairs, but he was tired. His User muscles were a little achy, and he just wanted to go back up to his suite and take some time to himself. So Beck walked into the elevator, not expecting anything really mind-blowing. He pushed the button to take him up to the roof, and leaned back, before looking over to the person accompanying him to his destination.

...It was him.

Beck could easily recognize that face; it was one of the three he saw before he died. It was the same person who cracked his disc, and caused him all those glitches during the arena. And just by looking at his face, his heart starts to pound away in his chest, and his insides are filled with butterflies, and he'd just like to leave...

But just as he took one little step forward, the doors closed right in front of his face.

Perfect.

He stood there as still as a statue, keeping to himself. Eyes forward, Beck. Ignore this feeling. Ignore him. Maybe he won't eat you this time, or crack your disc...

Beck's learning about the digestive system (not very pleasant- he wouldn't ever admit it out loud but Users were kind of gross), when a loud bang! from beside startles him right out his studies. From the corner of his eye, he could see a big block of books sliding down from one another, some landing right onto the floor. Some even slid onto the material he was studying, but nobody did much of anything about it.

Wow. Okay.

Some Users weren't the friendliest of people (that much he's discovered already, but it's still a little shocking to think about it). He rolled his eyes a little and let his cheek rest against his fist, and continued his studies.
Until someone made a noise beside him.

He ignored it at first...until someone beside him started to talk. Beck looked up to him, making sure that he was the one being addressed, before giving a sheepish kind of shrug. "I don't know much about my body, so I want to learn more about it." Which was pretty much why he was here, in a nutshell!

It's impossible to press himself against the elevator wall until it absorbs him. Crap and crap.

With nowhere to go, it's only a matter of time before Beck realizes his mistake - R watches, mute, as he steps back and then does that elevator-thing where you sneak a glance over at whoever you have to share this space with. He remembers that, vaguely. He also sees that realization cross Beck's face as he recognizes him and the hope that maybe it was too dark dies before it can even begin. The man's face freezes like a mask. They stare at each other. R would look away first, only he’s stuck.

They go up a few floors, hit the top and…the doors don’t open like they should. The soothing music continues to play. The lights flicker overhead.

They’re trapped. Together.

R tries to stop looking at that spot where he first cracked open Beck’s skull. It’s harder than he thought it would be, his eyes keep wanting to wander over and he tells himself it’s because of guilt, not guilt-colored-with-hunger. They’ve been feeding R this substitute so he’s not trying to shove people through the muzzle but there’s something about it that’s not…enough. Like Tofu. Or what Tofu used to be like. And Beck? Those were some of the most interesting memories R had stolen. The zombie drags his eyes away before he burns a hole into Beck’s basal ganglia. That new hunger’s greedy for more.

You need to say something.

It’s harder than usual jump-starting his groans into words. “I’m…sss…suh…sorry…about…”

Edited 2013-05-17 10:21 (UTC)

He ignores the books on the floor, throwing himself into the seat opposite of Beck. He sits awkwardly, like he doesn't know where to put his limbs, and he blinks slowly at Beck.

"How can you...." He motions at the book and Beck. "How can you not know about your body? Are you pan damaged?"

He reaches for one of the children's books, deciding this table and time is as good as any for trying to learn this ridiculous language.

Karis stalked around the Capitol like she owned the place. She ignored her handlers at times, but never quite pushed it into the territory where they were likely to call security on her. She still tended to go where she wanted (within reason). And today she's in the lounge. She catches sight of Beck from across the room and almost instantly, she's grinning. She remembers him well enough. She crosses the room with an arrogant swagger in her stride (well, as much as was allowable, considering her dead condition).

"Well, lookie here - it's dinner."

The elevator is stuck.

Beck wouldn't mind this normally. But he does mind it when he's stuck with one of the three Users who decided he was going to be a snack in the Arena. He could remember it in a lot of detail that he really didn't want to, but he did. Seeing this guy again probably didn't help him any.

So what do you do when you were stuck in an elevator with a guy who helped to kill you not too long ago? He was absolutely positive that not even the smartest User in the world could answer this question.

His original plan was to just...stand there. Because one- what else was there to say? and two- ...he didn't really know what else to do. The silence would be absolutely awful (and maybe a little painful), and he'd have to deal with the memory of this guy's teeth sinking into his thigh all over again, but it wasn't like he could do anything else, unless he wanted to jump out of the elevator shaft or something. So let the horrible silence commence.

Beck kept his gaze straight ahead, mouth clenched shut...but the other guy broke that pretty quickly. It took him a little bit to realize what he was saying, but...sorry? This guy was apologizing?

He wanted to be angry. But even though he wanted to, Beck quickly found out that he couldn't be. Because it wasn't like this guy wanted to go and eat him alive, right? They were kind of being forced to kill each other...right?

"It's, it's okay." Beck said quickly, looking to the User out of the corner of his eye. "I mean, it's not like you wanted to, right...?"

Stupid question. But...

...Pan damaged? Beck doesn't know whether to just ignore this guy, or feel a little insulted.

"I came from a world where I was in a computer." He said, looking from his book and up to the User. That wasn't a lie, anyway! "I was a Program who ran on energy and circuitry." Or so they told him. "I'm in a User body now, and I don't know how anything works. And I kind of want to know for next time."

The other User seems to be...not all that interested. He's got a rather silly kind of book in his hands, and he's studying it like he doesn't really care. Maybe he was just here to grind on his nerves, who knew.

'It's dinner.'

Beck isn't sure how he recognizes the voice at first, but it sends an odd, icy shiver that sails down his spine, and makes it feel like his skin is crawling. It fills him with this horrible feeling of fear that it makes him freeze right in place.

...But, he can recognize it after that moment or two is gone. He looks up, and oh yeah, he remembers. And now that he remembers, he certainly doesn't appreciate that comment. Or the face she makes along with it.

"Just so you know, the Games are over. You don't need to go bragging about it." Beck mutters, looking up to her.

"What if I wanna brag about?" Karis laughed, "Put on a show for the cameras? Or maybe I just wanna see you squirm?"

She leans down, getting into his personal space. She likes to see people cower. She likes the way he hunches his shoulders and the way he freezes.

"Feeling better?"

If both were possible, both would be good.

He looks up from his book, already feeling a bit overwhelmed by just how unfamiliar the lettering is. "I can't thay that maketh a whole lot of thenthe to me," which is true, because. Aliens. They're confusing and he doesn't really know all of their lingo. "But I gueth what you're thaying ith...you were an intangible being in thome thort of computer network, but now you've been made phythical?"

He pauses, idly tracing patterns over the book's pages with a claw as he stares at Beck. "How could they manage doing thomething like that? What kind of technology could put a mind into a body?"

It's okay, Beck says. R can't say he agrees. Judging from the hesitation and the way they were both trying to avoid eye contact here, maybe it's a lost cause trying to pretend it's no hard feelings. This is probably the part where he should lie - swear up and down that no officer, he did not enjoy stealing Beck's trippy memories. Killing someone random like Beck is still hard to swallow, leaves R with a dirty feeling despite the fact he's rotting.

The memories, though. R can't say he didn't want to hold onto every weird, bright spark of a memory he's taken, from the others and from Beck.

So yeah. Maybe he did want to, when he was prying the poor guy's brain's out. It was the only time he felt like he could live. (And Jesus, how Beck had lived!)

R slowly realizes his silence isn't helping here. He wishes the stare he gives Beck isn't stupidly guilty, that half the time it feels like his face froze that way.

"Didn't..." R's head hangs down. "Was...too...hungry. Can't...stop. Wish...I could."

Talk about today being epically awkward. There's got to be a better way to clear the air between them. R looks at Beck, that tall lanky frame of his, and the guilt tries to claw its way up his throat again. Moaning uncomfortably, R looks away first.

Beck could kind of see how this User was sorry.

It was something he noticed right off the bat when he met R- there had been something...very un-Userlike about him. The way he moved, the black goop that came out of his mouth. The way his skin looked almost dead, and how there wasn't any energy in his eyes. Beck didn't know anything about User viruses and what affected what and how, but he could tell that if R was a Program, there would be something odd about his coding. There was something that caused him to behave the way he did.

...Although, Beck couldn't say he ever heard of a virus that made people want to eat each other. He heard of viruses that destroyed coding, but not made them want to eat others!

He looked over to R the best he could, and offered what was probably more of a grimace than a smile of any kind. Beck didn't want to say that he knew, because, well, he didn't. But at the same time...

"I...had a feeling." He started. "There was always...the first time I bumped into you, there was something I noticed that stood out from other Users." Getting better, getting better... "The ones I saw in the Arena always had some kind of energy in their eyes that told you they were alive. But yours..." He didn't want to be rude or anything. But at the same time, this guy did help kill him, so. "Yours didn't. And I never knew why."

Beck...is finding himself kind of lost.

He doesn't mean to- it's just how this User talks. It was repetitive, which told him that it was just how he spoke, but at the same time, it was pretty difficult to decipher what this guy was trying to say. Beck didn't want to be a jerk and just blow off.

"Yeah. I came from a city named Argon. I was a mechanic." Was. Was was was. "I'm not sure how they did it. Maybe they downloaded me into an artificial body. Who knows?"

An artificial User body. That bothers Beck a lot more than it should...

"I don't car-"

He couldn't even finish his sentence. Beck could feel her pressing close, and even though he didn't want to...he tried to squeeze himself away. Beck could feel his User body react like a Program would- he brought his shoulders in, hunched his back. He could feel himself take in a quick breath, and a sudden rush of fear went right through him.

But Beck recovered as best as he could. He found himself rising to his feet, pushing the unwanted User away. "Leave me alone!"

Oh, this was great. This was delicious and Karis was enjoying every second of it. She moves a bit closer, crowding him back into his chair with another of those nasty-sounding laughs.

"Why? Give me a reason, lunchbox."

She reaches out to poke his shoulder insolently.

"You're not gonna make me."

R grunted at that. Usually the fact he was lurching or looked obviously dead was enough of a tip off to the people out there - being told he had something missing in his eyes was new. R could make a guess what it was. That little spark you could see in people like Julie, this invisible something that seemed to flood out from the heart and through the blood-stream in a constant pulse. It was the exact same thing R saw - felt - when Beck died in the Arena, that exact moment when the spark faded and Beck left the building and all that was left was a still-warm corpse in that grey no-man's land where he hadn't revived as a zombie just yet.

"Dead. Stuck this...way. Ww...wanted...to make it...fast. New...instinct."

Oops and that wasn't what R wanted to say now that it was already bleeding out of his mouth. How was that supposed to tell Beck it wouldn't happen again?

R swallowed, remembering what it felt like to be Beck. All those flashes of colors, hues he'd never seen in the other memories and had a feeling he never would. The sound of the light-cycle. It was a weird feeling, facing someone you knew and didn't. The lights flickered again overhead, R craning his head like a moth seconds away from being burnt to a crisp.

The zombie eventually wrangled his attention away from the flickering lights and focused on Beck again. "Now...you know. Second...chance?"

It's okay. By now he's used to people being unable to understand him.

He taps at his teeth in though, before nodding decisively. "Or they managed to figure out how to tap into a neural network, and you're all organic." He smiles sharply. "After all, organic beingth are more entertaining when they die, and ithn't that what thith plathe wantth? Organic deathth, and not robotth that are rebuilt over and over? Where'th the drama for that?"

It should probably be frightening how much though he's put into what the Capitol is up to, but it's not like he has much else to do.

Beck...could actually find a small amount of comfort in that, if he tried to think about it really really hard. This guy at least had an idea of what he was doing and that it wasn't right, and that he figured it would be best to end it all as quickly as possible. Which was better than knowing what you were doing and just doing it anyway, and dragging it out as long as you wanted to because it was fun.

He had a feeling that someone else was like that in the group, but he didn't bring that up.

The lights flickered in the elevator, and a voice overhead told them to be patient as whatever malfunctioning was being worked at. Things got kind of quiet then...Which made things a little awkward. Just a little.

But when R mentioned something about a second chance, Beck found himself looking to the User, and giving him a smile and a nod. "A second chance and a few more." This guy couldn't help himself. And Beck couldn't see any reason to hold a grudge otherwise.

"My name's Beck, by the way. I don't know if you knew already, or..."

Aaah. Well...

"I, I never thought about it that way..." And truthfully, he didn't. That kind of idea was the last thing Beck ever thought about in the Arena, and it wasn't something he truly focused on until now. He had been bent over with trying to learn about more of his User self and what made it work, let alone what the people in the Capitol really wanted, and how they would find him the most entertaining to die.

"...I guess you got a point, though." It's hard to imagine how he does, but that's exactly it. It should be hard to understand...but because it's hard, that's exactly it.

Now he felt gross. A fake. Robotic. Not a true User at all.

In a way, he really wasn't. But being here with a bunch of other Users, while knowing you weren't really a true User? That felt not good.

This shouldn't be bothering him.

Beck was the Renegade. People said they hated him. Didn't like how he terrorized the city, and turned away from him. He had been ganged on and beaten up and all kinds of things, but he made it through with a straight face. But why of all things, was this bothering him so much?

A hand reached out to touch him, and he swatted it away. "Don't!" He took a step back, but found the back of his legs touching against the chair.

Stuck...

Edited 2013-05-29 03:50 (UTC)

The Psiioniic knows all about organic networks. Or, well, how to hook an organic body to an information network, and he has the scars to prove his first hand experience.

"I have theveral pointth," he says with a laugh, crossing his arms over the book still in front of him. "But hey, at leatht you're a miracle of thienthe."

Which might make Beck feel better, but from what the Psiioniic can see it won't. He can't say he knows what Beck feels at all, but...he knows he wouldn't enjoy being shoved into a different body, as much as the body he has is worthless.

"I guess." Beck said, trying to give the User the best smile he could manage. This guy seemed like he was only trying to help...but it didn't really work.

He came to the library to try and find out more about himself. How the User body worked, and what he would have to do to maintain it. Now he just felt like a fake, nasty thing. Artificial and useless and robotic and...a bunch of things that surprisingly, he didn't want to feel.

How much did this guy know, though? Could he relate? "Are you like me?"

Patient. Normally R could rock patient. He could out-patient just about anyone with a pulse. (Other zombies, not so much. Sometimes he got the impression corpses like M viewed him as a newbie, itching to be on the move, obsessed with creepy things like music). Somehow being trapped in an elevator with one of his victims made R feel like being patient was out of his reach, his eyes still guiltily on Beck.

Oh yeah, he knew. That was one of the first things plastered on the top level of the brain, a name, a "this is who I am", the more important, personal things then deeper and deeper inside. R could definitely say he knew his name already.

"Know. Sorry. I'm....Rrr," R said, hunching his shoulders awkwardly. "Thank you for...chance. Try to be...good."

The zombie had to pause then, working out what else to say. He didn't feel he deserved that smile, uneasy as it was, because most people would be pissed about being killed and eaten like a User buffet. Program buffet? What was Beck, anyway?

Beck turned to the corrupted user, and tried to offer him a bigger smile. This wasn't R's fault. It was clear to him now as it was day and night (which he still wasn't all that accustomed to); it must have taken a lot for R to tell him all of this, given both his physical condition and the oddness of what happened. It might have been the pressure from them both being stuck in an elevator, but if R hadn't wanted to mention it, he wouldn't have...right?

Being stuck in an elevator didn't mean anything. Beck knew that it took a lot of guts to summon the courage for this, and he found himself respecting R a lot for that.

"Anytime." He said, facing towards the zombie a little more this time around. "...I'm not sure how hard being good is for you, but is there any way I can help?"

When he wasn't trying to eat you, R actually sounded pretty nice. It wasn't fair for the Capitol to drag him into anything like this. But then again, it wasn't fair for any of them.

He's awful at helping. Really, truly awful.

"Not really," he grumbles, tracing a claw over the book again. He straightens up, pushing his shoulders back. "What happened to me wath almotht the exact oppothite. I wath taken from my organic body and partially implanted into a network."

It was a painful process, and it had been a long one too. "I wath theparated from it to come here."

Karis snorts with laughter when he swats his hand out of the way. He's trapped (he knows it, she knows it, they all know it). But she can't really hurt him here, can she? All she can do is cajole and use her words. They'd drag her off if they thought she'd actually hurt him. So she gives him a patronizing pat on the shoulder (well, if he lets her).

"Don't what?"

She leans in again, one eye blinking in a rather perverse and unnerving wink, "You're mine again, next time. Maybe you'll actually put up more of a fight - it'd make it more... entertaining, anyway."

Oh, wow. That did sound pretty unpleasant.

Beck gave the guy a sorry kind of look, shaking his head as he closed up the book on body functions. "I'm sorry." He muttered. "That must have been awful..." That was all he was going to say for now. It probably wasn't the smartest thing to say. "I didn't know they could do the opposite..."

And all for entertainment.

"From my zone, I thought Users were perfect. In the end, they all created the Grid, my city. They created me." He shook his head, and pushed the book away. "I don't understand why they'd stoop to this level. They weren't supposed to."

And they would drag him off if he tried to do anything to her.

He tenses when Karis sets a hand to his shoulder. There's more he wants to do, but he can't...not only would they take him away, but they had attracted some attention. Beck wasn't sure what publicity was good here, and what wasn't. Or if any publicity was good at all.

Either way, this wasn't the place.

Beck could feel his blood boiling. "We'll see about that." He wouldn't be so off-guard next time. Next time, he'd be ready. He could almost feel Tron frowning at him, but Tron wasn't here, was he? "But just you and me next time. Nobody else."

Karis didn't really mind if people paid attention to her harassing him, so long as they didn't do anything about it. She laughs at his defiance, though. It makes her happy. It makes her want to hurt him. It makes her feel something and that's all she cares about.

"Ohhh, you've got spirit, huh? I don't fight fair, lunchbox. Just warning you now. But if you wanna take me? Yeah, we can go."

It definitely was.

He shrugs. He's been trying not to feel too sorry for himself (and he hasn't been that consistently successful), but...talking about what happened to him is still a strange thing. It's easy to talk about it on a purely scientific level, so at least Beck hasn't actually asked how it felt. "There'th a lot of thingth I didn't know they could do."

"Uther? And, well, people are naturally terrible. It'th what maketh thpecieth tho familiar."

Beck opened up, and not just with what he said – he was opening up a lot more with his body language too, R noticing he didn’t hunch over or face the wall or try to unconsciously present himself as a smaller target like anyone in their right mind, stuck in an elevator with a zombie, would. R felt even crappier about eating him now. If he had a choice, he wouldn’t kill anyone…but if he had a choice, he’d rather chew up someone who deserved it.

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.

Beck nodded, and thought that over. He started off in the Games right after the Blood Bath...but from what he heard, it was anything but pretty (not that the name of it gave him any good ideas). He didn't know anything about how they intentionally starved R, or hurt him in any way...

"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."

Yeah, Beck wouldn't ask that. He got the idea that the process wasn't all that pretty, and he didn't want to overstep his boundaries.

That couldn't be more true. Beck finds himself nodding along, biting the inside of his lip as he thinks. "I don't think anyone really knows what they can do." Which, in both of their case, is more frightening than it is not. "I guess so." He glances to the stack of books the other User (User...?) is reading over.

"Do you think all User's are terrible?" Beck found that a little hard to believe. Some, yeah. But not all of them!

He could see Tron shaking his head at this. Sometimes attention to yourself wasn't always the best way to go. But now, Beck was a little too upset to care...and it wasn't like Tron was here. He didn't even think Tron could help if he wanted to.

"Fine. We'll meet at the Cornucopia, right after the Bloodbath." She didn't want to play even? He could make it as even as he could. No weapons for either of them to use, nobody else around to butt in.

Beck, he might just come to like that about you.

He taps his thumb against the book, quirking a brow. "Well, they do, but that doethn't really help." Which he hates more than anything. He hates not knowing what could happen to him at any moment, and he hates not know how to figure out how to best their technology. "I haven't really seen any technology like theirth, either."

Slowly, he nods. "Everyone hath thomething terrible about them."

Ooh, that catches his interest! "Does anyone here know about what they can do?"

The thing with Beck is that he's a Program working against his programming. While he was programmed to work on vehicles, he's actually been running around as a renegade Program and causing problems for the State. Maybe, if they could get enough information on the Capitol, and if they form up a plan...

"Maybe we could use that." Beck's going to suggest a little something here...

He shakes his head. "Ath far ath I can tell, nobody knowth what they're capable of."

He leans forward, narrowing his eyes at Beck. He doesn't know if he can trust them, or what he's up to. Hell, he doesn't even know what the man is capable of.

"Uthe it in what way?"

R looked surprised at that one coming from Beck, his mouth parting.

"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.

"We could all use our abilities against them." It was a big suggestion, but...

It was worth a shot! "From my zone, I was a mechanical Program. But I was also a renegade. I was starting a revolution against another Program who planned to everyone else under his way. by force or otherwise." Before, he wouldn't tell this to anyone. But in a place where Users knew all about him, and what he could do...why not flaunt? Maybe they could change something, here!

"We can use whatever the others Users have, along with what we already know about the Capitol, and start a movement of our own." Beck shrugged, grinning to himself. "If it could happen in a computer zone, it could happen here."

Movements, rebellions. Things that the Psiioniic used to believe in. He used to believe that you could change things, but now, now he's worn down and tired of fighting to change a system that won't allow itself to be changed. He's tired of trying to make things better, because it just makes everything worse.

"And why thhould we do that? Tho we can get thquathed down and killed off permanently? What do you think ith going to happen if we turn againtht them? If they can change who we are, how are you thuppothed to fight them?"

"We wouldn't start right away." Beck was good at leading rebellions (or, at least he liked to think he did). He knew when to start, and how much support to gather at first. He could do this. They all could do this.

He leaned back a little, and continued. "We would have to learn more about the Capitol, and how to overthrow them. It would take a little bit of time, but if we gather everyone together, we could do it. We all could make it out of here."

He doesn't say anything for a long while; he just stares at Beck with his shoulders hunched and his defenses up. He's wary about rebellion, and he doesn't really know if they could ever find out enough to overthrow the natives.

But most of all, he doesn't want to go back to the life he had before hand. He doesn't want to go back to being Helmsman. "What about thothe that don't want to get out?"

Now that stumped Beck quite a bit.

That was...not something he thought about, honestly. With him, it was about fighting for the free cause; about saving others from slavery and certain deresolution. Or reprogramming, or something not good like that. With the Grid, it was all about saving others, knowing that some might be against him, and might understand in the end.

"Why?" Beck asked, leaning forward. "Why would you want to be stuck like this?"

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

circuitry ◎ ( open! )

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Blarghl, sorry about the huge delay.

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It's okay! Things happen, yeah? :)

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