thecapitol | You'd Be an Animal Too [Closed]

Who| Punchy and Holiday, Punchy and Topher
What| Punchy has guilt all up ins.
Where| The rooms of Holiday and Topher, respectively.
When| Post-Arena, maybe a week after
Warnings/Notes| Discussion of the Arena, probably swearing.

For a little while, the glitz and glam of the Capitol sweeps Punchy up, and he manages to shove all those messy feelings from the Arena entirely out of his mind. Spots of memory are buried in new clothes; cold sweats are drowned in booze; guilt is blasted away by flash photography and screens and the hounding of interviewers. It's a shallow life, but that's the glory of it - for a while, Punchy skates on the surface of what is, content in the vapidity of it all.

But eventually he falls through into the cold depths below, and that's what finds him checking the halls in the night. The Capitol's given him a legitimate 'superhero; costume, largely based on his original design, which they found colorful and flamboyant enough. They even gave him night-vision goggles, which he uses to wander the halls without flipping the lights on.

Two different District suites. He pauses at each door. He knows the occupants are alive, he checked that especially, but he hasn't faced them yet. And he's been working a long time on his apology, though it seems to have escaped his brain entirely.

He knocks.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Topher's room was an organized mess that his escort had long since given up insisting he keep in proper Capitol order. He'd taken apart and put back together every piece of technology in the room in order to get a clearer idea on how the Capitol set up its tech. It was like grad school all over again and he was loving it.

The knock at his door was ignored as he finished piecing together his tablet to a small consul in the corner of his room. Stepping back to admire his handy-work he noticed the knocking and walked to his door, opening it with a slight frown.

"I told you I'd go to that party la- Hey, Punchy! Come in, come in!"

"Yo, dawg, you're all breezy and shit!" Punchy grins and lets himself be ushered in. He pauses when he sees Topher's collection, jaw dropping slightly, eyes bulging.

He's impressed. Oh yeah, he's definitely impressed.

"Your pad is off the chain, homeboy!"

"Isn't it." It really was amazing how casual these people were with their tech, which was fine by Topher as it gave him more access to it and his sticky fingers. "Before I can begin any real work I gotta see what I'm working with. Pretty much the same as what we have back home minus the 'Made in China' stickers."

He cleared off a chair and motioned for Punchy to have a seat. "Hey, I watched you finish off the Arena. I was totally on Team Punchy for the win." He doesn't mention Punchy comforting his killer or Punchy's own ending. Wasn't it enough that he kept rooting for the kid? He thought so.

"So, what's up? Bored? Not up to the assistant stage yet, but eventually I wouldn't mind an Intern."

"Next time I hit dat club, dawg. I'mma be rocking that gold chain at the end of round two, put money on that shit."

Punchy flops into the seat with the bonelessness of any good teenager.

"Intern? Nah, man, I hit this code and I'mma make you my bitch." Punchy pulls a bag of Goldfish out of his pocket and tosses it over. It's easier talking about this, about tech, than about the whole part where he let Topher down. He didn't even really care that he died too.

The Goldfishes find a home in Topher's stomach. Aside from what the Capitol serves the Tributes Topher has found himself in serious lack of snacks. His days are filled with research and his credit card is sadly underused.

He munches on the cheesy goodness of Goldfish as he takes a seat on the bed. "Man, you are sorely underestimating my skills. These hands have broken through codes that have broken greater men. It's okay, I'll put you to good use fetching me juice boxes and other non-nutritional essentials."

It is easier to keep things light in view of their shared past as short as it was. Topher does give a serious look and wonders if Punchy is feeling, well, feelings. It had taken a few days for Topher to calm down and realize how lucky he'd been to have a relatively simple death.

"So, I'm guessing you're into the whole party and babes thing, right?" Punchy was a teen after all.

"No way, homes. But you can keep hyping yourself for now. I won't harsh you too bad when I send your measly technique home in a body bag."

Punchy seems to have a bag of holding for snack food, and he pulls out a bag of sour candies. He pops them in his mouth by the handful, talking without chewing or swallowing.

"Word up, I'm totally into the shawties and clubbin' and shit. Been ballin' it up around here a few days. But sometimes a man has needs, yo." He pats the side of Topher's monitor. "Honest to god needs."

"Hey now, watch the tech; I don't know where your hands have been after all that partying." Topher didn't move to protect his open monitor as he was fairly certain Punchy knew when to be delicate despite the fact that he spoke like he watched way too many action movies as a kid.

It was hard to actually like anyone in this place, but Topher did find that he wasn't too annoyed with Punchy and the kid did know his tech as pedestrian as it was. If Topher worked things his way he could have a little Ivy 2.0 in Punchy.

"Now, tell me what brought you here other than my charming personality? If you're bored I wouldn't mind if you did an errand or two for me."

"They're clean, homie! I ain't gonna be greasin' up a hottie like this with no shred, you know?" He rolls his eyes at Topher, kicking his feet up and starting to click around and acquaint himself with the system. He doesn't want to admit Topher's above his league in this, but...

"Oh, you know. Just checking up on you after that whole slice and dice shit in the primo." He tries to say that as nonchalantly as possible, so as not to give Topher the impression that he suspects he might not be okay.

That causes Topher to raise an eyebrow. Yeah he remembered the way Punchy held him as he faded off into the good night, and he really was thankful in the way a guy who suddenly discovered death isn't exactly the end, but he didn't dwell on it. Punchy seemed like the sort who would dwell.

"Dude, no biggie. I mean I was all about being traumatized when I first woke up, but I've read up on the pamphlets and self-diagnosed myself as having got over it." He shrugs. "It's part of the game."

"Aces!" Punchy flashes Topher two thumbs up. He doesn't seem to realize how strange that is for discussing someone's bloody death. "I knew you was breezy, dawg, I was just, you know. Checking."

Topher held his hand over his heart. "I'm touched with your little crush." He grabbed a pillow off his bed and tossed it at Punchy. "It's a game, right? Besides, it's not like we die forever."

"Ain't no crush, jackwagon. No homo." Punchy scowls. "Don't be getting all up in my ass about it."

Topher can't help laughing out at Punchy's face. "Did you just 'No homo' me? Dude, what are you twelve?" Considering all that Topher had programmed Dolls to do for clients he had zero qualms about anything his fellow humans got up to in their personal lives.

His door buzzed and Topher's smile turned to a frown as an Avox stood at his open door. "You're not allowed in here." He looked over at Punchy and shrugged. "Dinner?"

"I'm eighteen, bitch." He rolls his eyes at Topher. "And fo' shizzy I did just 'no homo' you."

He tilts his head to the side as he looks at the Avox. "What's the beef with Chatters over there? He ain't gonna peep on your sitch. Let him in."

Topher ignored Punchy's remark about his age and pointed a finger at the Avox. "Ignore him. Out." The confused Avox looked between the pair before leaving at Topher's shout.

"They're creepy okay." An nosy. Topher was nosy too, but he hated that in other people especially people who ultimately didn't answer to him. This was why all his work was in code and seemed to be missing vital pieces of information. Topher trusted Topher. "You wanna defend your new love of the speechless then ago ahead. I'm going to dinner."

"A'ight, a'ight, straight up. I'm going." Punchy hops up out of the chair and stretches, patting the computer like one would to calm a particularly beloved skittish horse. "Let's hit that spread, I'm over the bogchi."

You'd Be an Animal Too [Closed]

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