Alex Rider (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
luckofthedevil) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2013-05-30 08:43 pm
luckofthedevil) wrote in thecapitol2013-05-30 08:43 pm
Entry tags:
[OPEN]
Who| Alex Rider and OPEN
What| Dinner and Districtmate bonding. Or lack of bonding. Also, Alex just out and about.
Where| District 4 suites and around the Training Center
When| post Arena 6 sometime
Warnings/Notes| none atm
It wasn't that Alex didn't like the other Tributes in District 4. He just hadn't gone out of his way to talk to them very much. When he'd first arrived he'd made the decision to not form any connections, to keep himself distant from the other Tributes. That way it wouldn't hurt him if someone was injured or killed (and, later when he noticed some of the Tributes weren't brought back, if they disappeared altogether), but in the last couple Arenas he'd begun to see the futility in that position. He found himself liking some of the other Tributes, and the ever present loneliness gnawed all the more.
So when his stylist chattered happily about 'just a little dinner' to help the newer Tributes of District 4 'feel more at home', Alex's protestations were mostly habit. He figured he could at least make polite small talk. He was curious about the other Tributes to some extent, where they'd come from and what their homes were like. If it weren't for the frequent death matches they were forced to engage it, this situation would actually be pretty exciting for Alex. How often did you have the opportunity to meet people from other realities? (Though, Alex hadn't completely dismissed the possibility this was all a delusion brought on by a psychotic break.)
The dinner that night was just as nice as it usually was, but it was distinctly District flavored. The dishes were made from fish and other aquatic creatures, and Alex noticed a certain prevalence of seaweed as both a garnish and a food item.
- - -
Alex had worked up a sweat, as he did most mornings. The equivalent of 5 km in laps of the large room followed by and hour of weights. He was mostly healed from the state his body was always in after each resurrection, the bruises properly faded away, and in another week or so he would be back at his peak and ready for the next Arena.
Rubbing his hair with a towel, Alex eyed the ropes course, waiting for the line to die down. Even if it was popular with some of the other Tributes, it was Alex's least favorite part of the room. It reminded him too much of the week and a half he'd spent in the Brecon Beacons, which in turn reminded him of Blunt. And that was just something best avoided. Still, he ran the ropes course all the same, because it was good for agility and balance. He just made sure there was no way to construe that he might favor the ropes over some other part of the training room.
What| Dinner and Districtmate bonding. Or lack of bonding. Also, Alex just out and about.
Where| District 4 suites and around the Training Center
When| post Arena 6 sometime
Warnings/Notes| none atm
It wasn't that Alex didn't like the other Tributes in District 4. He just hadn't gone out of his way to talk to them very much. When he'd first arrived he'd made the decision to not form any connections, to keep himself distant from the other Tributes. That way it wouldn't hurt him if someone was injured or killed (and, later when he noticed some of the Tributes weren't brought back, if they disappeared altogether), but in the last couple Arenas he'd begun to see the futility in that position. He found himself liking some of the other Tributes, and the ever present loneliness gnawed all the more.
So when his stylist chattered happily about 'just a little dinner' to help the newer Tributes of District 4 'feel more at home', Alex's protestations were mostly habit. He figured he could at least make polite small talk. He was curious about the other Tributes to some extent, where they'd come from and what their homes were like. If it weren't for the frequent death matches they were forced to engage it, this situation would actually be pretty exciting for Alex. How often did you have the opportunity to meet people from other realities? (Though, Alex hadn't completely dismissed the possibility this was all a delusion brought on by a psychotic break.)
The dinner that night was just as nice as it usually was, but it was distinctly District flavored. The dishes were made from fish and other aquatic creatures, and Alex noticed a certain prevalence of seaweed as both a garnish and a food item.
- - -
Alex had worked up a sweat, as he did most mornings. The equivalent of 5 km in laps of the large room followed by and hour of weights. He was mostly healed from the state his body was always in after each resurrection, the bruises properly faded away, and in another week or so he would be back at his peak and ready for the next Arena.
Rubbing his hair with a towel, Alex eyed the ropes course, waiting for the line to die down. Even if it was popular with some of the other Tributes, it was Alex's least favorite part of the room. It reminded him too much of the week and a half he'd spent in the Brecon Beacons, which in turn reminded him of Blunt. And that was just something best avoided. Still, he ran the ropes course all the same, because it was good for agility and balance. He just made sure there was no way to construe that he might favor the ropes over some other part of the training room.
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Alex's objective each time he did the ropes course was the same: match the time from the previous day or get one faster. And that meant finding more efficient ways to climb the ladders and get through the obstacles. He runs the course more like a soldier than a gymnast, always going for the quickest way through than one that might be more difficult or fun.
When he reaches the end, his feet barely make a sound as he drops to the ground. Turning, he gives the waiting girl a short bow and sweeps an arm at the ropes course, as if to say, "all yours."
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Venus' style is the complete opposite of Alex. She has the bounce and flexibility of a gymnast and the grace of a dancer, used to being both tight and balanced as well as beautiful as she moves. She has to be; cameras are unforgiving things. A single unflattering shot could become her legacy.
She tumbles, flips and leaps through the course, coming to a stop in the pose of a runner at the starting line. She stands up and brushes hair from her face.
"You like?"
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When she'd finished, he clapped his hands politely. "You certainly have moves," he commented. "Moreso than most people here."
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"Thanks. You're not so bad yourself, but a little functional, you know? You'd be great if we weren't about to be on camera." She bats her eyelashes. "Not like I'm trying to advise an enemy or anything."
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There's a hobby horse she hops up on to sit. "So what's your name, soldier?"
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