[OPEN]

[drpsychosomatic]

Who| John Watson and OPEN
What| John's been having a lot of trouble sleeping and settling since waking up in the Capitol, and so is doing a lot of wandering for wandering's sake, catching up with friends (or at least people who haven't murdered him) and going on adorable coffee-dates with Effie Basically this is here to catch all
Where| Wandering around the capitol
When| Any time after his death, just let me know when you want to set things in the title of your reply pls
Warnings/Notes| Possible mentions of PTSD?

Death, John decided, was something no-one should have to live through. Where being shot and being absolutely certain he was going to die had been terrible, and had taken months of physical and psychological rehabilitation, dying and being brought back in a perfectly functional body was much more of a disorientating disconnect. He felt detached from reality.

Before Sherlock had rejoined him in the Capitol, John had spent much of his time trying to prove to himself that he was actually here, not always consciously. He walked as far as he could along the streets, visited strange little cafes and bars and hauled himself back to his suite, exhausted and burned out, hoping he'd be too tired to dream. His mood lifted a little once his friend returned, and there were a few notable people whose company he not only enjoyed but looked forward to enjoying, but the itch to get out for the sake of getting out only intensified the longer the days dragged on. There was nothing comfortable about life here, no routine he could settle into and feel like he had a handle on. The long and short of it was, he was useless here in the Capitol, and it was eating away at him.

Comments

[mannersmatter]

Effie was always pleased to see John.

Life had been insanely hectic without Haymitch here. Peeta and Katniss were doing what they could, thankfully, but Effie didn't really have the first idea in how to help them with mentoring.

Than again, she wasn't sure Haymitch would if he was here.

But John was a little bit of calm in the storm, and she felt great relief any time she got to catch a few minute visiting with the tribute. Ever since meeting him at the last crowning ceremony, she'd found herself seeking out those times more and more often.

"Good afternoon!" She said with a bright smile as she sank into the chair across from him. Cinna has recommended the place, a little cafe, and she was looking forward to it.

[drpsychosomatic]

John smiled, honestly relaxing for what felt like the first time in ages. Effie was certainly of the Capitol, but he sensed nothing but warmth and care from her, and suspected she genuinely wanted to do good- and that, in his books, went a long way, despite his feelings about the Games.

"It is, actually, isn't it?" he agreed easily. The sun was shining, the skies were clear, and he was in a beautifully decorated if slightly over-saturatedly pink cafe. He wondered if maybe he should have brought her something. "It's good to see you, and this place is-- well, it's lovely."

[mannersmatter]

"Cinna suggested it."

With Effie's habits of name dropping so easily, John had heard all about everyone from 12, whether he knew who they were or not.

"So far his tastes have been consistently impeccable." She smiled brightly, settling into chair across from him. "So how are you?"

[drpsychosomatic]

"Better," he said, his smile wavering slightly. It was hard to be honest about how much he was struggling even with himself, and it seemed like it wouldn't be the easiest thing to discuss with Effie, anyway. He straightened up a bit. "I'm definitely being spoiled, here- and with you and Cinna recommending places like this, exploring the Capitol's much more enjoyable. I think you said they do tea?"

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

It's starting to become a bit of a running joke, he thinks, that he tends to notice John and then follow at a distance. Howard has a reason this time; he's running a little on empty and doesn't have the energy to try and doggy-paddle against Sherlock's surf. Once he's sure John's alone, he trails him into a lonely cafe and orders something, trying to look as if it's just complete coincidence that they're in the same desolate business on the same quiet street.

"Oh. Hey." John's not looking good; Howard recognizes that expression from the mirror after the Arena before this one. After someone tortured and killed him. The shadows of it still follow Howard around, wrap around him like thin gauze through which he can be seen but can't reach. The exhaustion, the paranoia, the listlessness. "You want coffee?"

If John says yes, Howard will try to convince him to pay for Howard's drink too. Like last time.

[drpsychosomatic]

John was far too distracted to notice he was being followed, this time- and jumped slightly at the voice, turning a little too quickly.

"I was-" he paused, collected himself, and smiled, carefully. "I was going to have tea, actually. What's yours?"

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

"Oh, sorry." Howard pulls an apologetic face - he really is. He gets jumpy too, and he always hates it when he visibly startles in front of people, because then they think he's crazy, or weak, or a coward. "I should've walked in front first."

The barista puts his coffee on the counter and he takes it, cradling it in his hands. "Cafe Americano. That means it's American-style, right? I don't know what the difference is."

[tis_allgood]

This was probably not a face John wanted to see, considering this was the man who had killed Sherlock in the last arena. He had been trying not to think much about it since it happened, despite being paid for his efforts. Which was what led him to his current dilemma, trying to figure out what he could do with the money he made. It was sure to be a strange sight to run into Cuthbert puzzling over hats in a little store out in the Capitol.

He nodded when he saw someone else who looked like a tribute come toward the shop. He was always glad to meet new people, even knowing the situation they were all in.

[drpsychosomatic]

John's eyes narrowed. He recognised Cuthbert, of course, but he doubted the other Tribute had a clue who he was- they hadn't met.

"Afternoon," he said, tersely.

[tis_allgood]

That wasn't the reaction he had expected meeting someone new. And Cuthbert was never a man to let things slide when he could meddle instead.

"Is something amiss, sai?"

[savedbyasong]

Outside one of those small cafe's, one serving most pastries and muffins Shion was stood looking inside with sad eyes. Probably a very rare sight in the Capitol but Shion's eyes weren't focused on the food, but rather the people. Families sat together, friends catching up over coffee.

He had been exploring the city itself now that he had the map memorised and today he had been drawn to crowded areas, watching the happy faces, letting the homesickness wash over him.

He stood still for a moment, and was probably blocking the door.

[drpsychosomatic]

John was on his way past the little cafe to the park when he caught sight of the young man looking mournfully into the window. Maybe it was his time with Sherlock, but he found himself more interested in other people's stories these days.

"Hey," he said, his tone light and warm. "Are you alright?"

[savedbyasong]

Shion jumped when he was addressed and his eyes darted over the other man before he relaxed, fairly sure he was a tribute and not a citizen of the capitol, all of whom still scared him.

"Yes, I was just watching. How are you?"

[gruesome]

Some liked the fountains that are so prolific in the Capitol. He liked the clean scent of the water better than any scent he find in the tributes' tower, and after dusk, lying by a fountain (usually literally, simply lying stretched out on the perfectly clean ground) was the calmest place Some could find, even though it always generated a little crowd at a distance.

When he spotted the other tribute, he lifted his upper body upright and waved.

[drpsychosomatic]

Ah. The... the grue. He wet his lips, and smiled- it wasn't easy, exactly, pretending that Some didn't make him uneasy on some odd, irrational level- but he'd be damned if he wasn't going to give it a bloody good try.

He waved back.
"Evening," he said, as amicable as he could manage. "Looks like you found a good spot."

[gruesome]

Really, a very rational level, if you consider it. Some stayed half-lying,

"Good evening. It is John, isn't it?"

after the arena- cafe?

[doc_holi]

Holiday felt very much the same as Mr. Watson, but she at least felt like she had a drive. It was probably a foolish little dream to believe in, but she wanted to change this place, the Capitol, these games. She did it back home, right? Rex was the catalyst, but her and Six managed to flip Providence and the entire world on its head for the better. Maybe she could do that here, too... without Six.

If not, well, maybe she could save a few kids.

She sighed into her cup of coffee, grateful to get out of the training center when it didn't involve a sponsor for once. Holiday looked up just in time to see John and she smiled at him, recognizing him as another tribute.

He was so out of place with the citizens, like her, that he wouldn't have been hard to spot anyway.

works for me!

[drpsychosomatic]

John smiled back, his anxiety quickly swimming back under the surface as soon as he could get a handle on himself.

"Hi. Sorry, I don't- you're one of the Tributes, though, aren't you? Like me."

[doc_holi]

Holiday smiled and nodded a bit awkwardly.

"Yes. I recognize you from the Center. I'm certainly not... anyone else."

One of these sick maniacs was a better word.

[shambler]

Detachment and wandering around, lost.

R could get where John Watson is coming from.

It didn't take long for the zombie to eventually bump into the doctor - only this time it wasn't on accident. His Escort had been keeping track of John and, determined to get R some more allies for the next Arena, she decided to point him in his direction until sooner or later they ran into each other. Make friends. Make an impression, honey! Cheer him up! she'd said, beamed with her pearly-white teeth, and gave R a little shove in the small of his back.

(He wondered if she was following, stalking them at a distance and making sure he was chatty)

R bumped shoulders with Watson as they passed a cafe, the lights washing out their faces to a blood red.

"Are...you...okay?" R asked.

[drpsychosomatic]

John startled easily these days- and he jumped a little at the physical contact, turning to face the speaker just a little too quickly. It was odd- he was sure he recognised the stranger, but he couldn't for the life of him think why. He was a Tribute, naturally, and his voice...

He wet his lips.
"I'm fine, thank you," he said. "I'm sorry, have we met?"

[shambler]

"I don't...think...so," R says, peering down at the human. He's got a lined face, older. Probably wouldn't taste too bad since he's actually had chance to experience life, unlike the younger survivors. R keeps that thought to himself, close to the vest. "You...don't...look hot."

It's rich, coming from R of all people. But yeah, he does still have a point.

If he wouldn't come up here, just let me know.

[earthborn]

Shepard had taken to star-gazing.

It was mostly just to torture herself, really. Masochism had never been far off her docket, one way or another; you couldn't get far in this world if you much minded a little pain. But sitting there on the rooftop of the Tribute's apartment, breathing condensation into the night, picking out the planets and naming the seas of Luna— it hurt. Not as badly as being shot, but it lingered. She couldn't help but wonder if, out there, just beyond the Kuiper Belt, the Mass Relay was waiting, innocently, for these people to get their heads out of their asses and join the wider galaxy. Just how different from her own world was this one?

She was willing enough to be distracted that when John's feet scuffed on the threshold of the propped-open door, she turned, "Hey."

Come, stranger. Talk a while.

It's fine!

[drpsychosomatic]

Caught.
He hadn't expected anyone else to be up here, but now he thought about it- anyone up here at this hour was likely looking for the same thing he was, and didn't that mean they'd at least have something in common? He offered the stranger a smile and walked over, that damnable limp slipping into his gait just enough to be noticeable. Damn it.

"Hey. Nice spot, up here," he said companionably.

[earthborn]

"It's got a view," she agreed, with a sidelong glance for the limp before she turned back to the sky. Mars, rich with secrets, would be behind the sun this time of year, but faithful Venus hovered around the western horizon, if dim behind the washout-light from the city.

"Can't sleep either, huh?" The quiet was easy, between them, and it had predisposed her to be friendly; an uncommon impulse, "Shepard. You?"