A. T. Menelikov (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
amourtician) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2013-05-16 06:50 am
amourtician) wrote in thecapitol2013-05-16 06:50 am
Entry tags:
[002] i wonder when the night will reach its end [OPEN]
Who| Jay and YOU! Special invitation extended to Insomniacs Anonymous
What| Jay has insomnia and is stargazing. Feel free to bug him.
Where| the park
When| now-ish, at night
Warnings/Notes| Jay's been drinking again, so things to do with alcohol. Other warnings will come if needed.
Jays lost track of how long he's been awake and he's just now starting to feel tiredness nibbling on the edges of his brain. He thinks he might be approaching twenty hours awake, but he can't be sure -- he never got into the habit of carrying a pocketwatch, back home, and he hasn't had a chance to find one he likes in the Capitol (he's as picky as he is vain, which is inhumanly so). He's more than a little drunk, too, but it doesn't seem to be making him sleepy at all (because, unknown to him, the last think he drank was the Capitol equivalent of a vodka with Red Bull and the caffeine's doing its job).
Right now, he's back in the park, somewhere towards the heart of it. He's lying on his back in the middle of a rosebush -- one mercifully genetically modified to be free of thorns. He thinks it's an awful waste of a perfectly good and deeply metaphoric plant. He also thinks the roses -- neon pink with black leopard spots -- are the tackiest thing he's seen in the Capitol, which is saying something, especially given the amount of mirrors he passes every day.
He's stargazing, trying idly to find familiar patterns in the unfamiliar sky above. He found a distorted version of the Fiery Eye and something that looks like an upsidedown Cradle of Rivers and he feels almost comforted, in an absurd way. The alcohol and the hours spent with his stylist, buried in fabric samples and haute couture magazines and the endless lure of the televisions have buried homesickness, but not very well or very deep. It's starting to claw its way back to the surface. He misses Mara. He misses the bookshop. He misses Raimut, though he'd never admit how much relief he feels upon being away from him.
Absurdly, he misses his twin most of all. She always was everything he never could be and he admits, grudgingly and only to himself, that being athletic and brutal would be far more useful here than being beautiful and clever.
While Jay's trying to prevent his mood from swinging to "maudlin", what are you doing?
What| Jay has insomnia and is stargazing. Feel free to bug him.
Where| the park
When| now-ish, at night
Warnings/Notes| Jay's been drinking again, so things to do with alcohol. Other warnings will come if needed.
Jays lost track of how long he's been awake and he's just now starting to feel tiredness nibbling on the edges of his brain. He thinks he might be approaching twenty hours awake, but he can't be sure -- he never got into the habit of carrying a pocketwatch, back home, and he hasn't had a chance to find one he likes in the Capitol (he's as picky as he is vain, which is inhumanly so). He's more than a little drunk, too, but it doesn't seem to be making him sleepy at all (because, unknown to him, the last think he drank was the Capitol equivalent of a vodka with Red Bull and the caffeine's doing its job).
Right now, he's back in the park, somewhere towards the heart of it. He's lying on his back in the middle of a rosebush -- one mercifully genetically modified to be free of thorns. He thinks it's an awful waste of a perfectly good and deeply metaphoric plant. He also thinks the roses -- neon pink with black leopard spots -- are the tackiest thing he's seen in the Capitol, which is saying something, especially given the amount of mirrors he passes every day.
He's stargazing, trying idly to find familiar patterns in the unfamiliar sky above. He found a distorted version of the Fiery Eye and something that looks like an upsidedown Cradle of Rivers and he feels almost comforted, in an absurd way. The alcohol and the hours spent with his stylist, buried in fabric samples and haute couture magazines and the endless lure of the televisions have buried homesickness, but not very well or very deep. It's starting to claw its way back to the surface. He misses Mara. He misses the bookshop. He misses Raimut, though he'd never admit how much relief he feels upon being away from him.
Absurdly, he misses his twin most of all. She always was everything he never could be and he admits, grudgingly and only to himself, that being athletic and brutal would be far more useful here than being beautiful and clever.
While Jay's trying to prevent his mood from swinging to "maudlin", what are you doing?
no subject
"Some of them. The easier ones. I've never had much time for stargazing, not even after I got here."
no subject
He glances up at the sky. "I could never sleep as a child. I'd sneak up on the roof with my sister and tell her stories about the constellations and their names. Then she'd make fun of me and we'd inevitably get rained on if we managed to fall asleep."
no subject
"It rains that much where you're from?" Ariadne asked. It was hardly the only thing from the story she had latched onto - the rest had been filed away as some information of mild interest - but she found it almost amusing that they got rained off nearly every time.
no subject
He sighs.
"So, tell me, dearest. What's your world like? Is it as ... puzzling as this place? As full of humans and empty of everyone else?"
no subject
She continued not to bat an eye at his terms of endearment, odd as they were. "Normal. But yes, it's full of humans; I wasn't aware that it was supposed to be full of anything else. I've never met anything else before I came here. We don't have anything like the Games back home - it's all just day to day life. People keep to themselves."