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thecapitol2013-06-04 12:07 am
cutshort) wrote in thecapitol2013-06-04 12:07 am
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Who| Hyperion | cutshort and YOU!
What| Someone's bored and not allowed to express his boredom through violence. What's the next best thing?
Where| Around the Capitol! You pick a place, he'll most likely show up.
When| Throughout the week.
Warnings/Notes| ... Hyperion will be Hyperion. And nobody likes Hyperion.
The Arena has been over for more than enough time to recuperate from his death, think things through, reassess what he wants to do. He's aware of the rules, aware of the system that controls him, even when no one is looking anymore, and he's been behaving.
He felt rejuvenated, when they resuscitated him. No longer starving, no longer bleeding, now longer panting for every breath of air like it would be his last. They got rid of his injuries, but the virus remains in his brain, still itching for more, making him dig his nails into the pads of his fingers and palms as he looks around in silence, observing. His gaze is unwavering - he doesn't care who he's looking at or what they're doing - an invasion of privacy even when he stands afar.
Is this all there is?
cutshort and YOU!What| Someone's bored and not allowed to express his boredom through violence. What's the next best thing?
Where| Around the Capitol! You pick a place, he'll most likely show up.
When| Throughout the week.
Warnings/Notes| ... Hyperion will be Hyperion. And nobody likes Hyperion.
The Arena has been over for more than enough time to recuperate from his death, think things through, reassess what he wants to do. He's aware of the rules, aware of the system that controls him, even when no one is looking anymore, and he's been behaving.
He felt rejuvenated, when they resuscitated him. No longer starving, no longer bleeding, now longer panting for every breath of air like it would be his last. They got rid of his injuries, but the virus remains in his brain, still itching for more, making him dig his nails into the pads of his fingers and palms as he looks around in silence, observing. His gaze is unwavering - he doesn't care who he's looking at or what they're doing - an invasion of privacy even when he stands afar.
Is this all there is?
no subject
It's not as flirtatious as a drink, but she's not here to flirt. She's hoping to pick his brains a little and know what to expect.
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"No, thanks."
He'd rather hear what she has to tell him.
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"I saw you're pretty effective in the Arena. Kind of impressive, honestly, but nothing I haven't seen before. I was wondering how you feel about...arrangements."
She takes a long sip from her smoothie.
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"Arrangements."
She'll have to explain herself.
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"Look, I know you're a professional. I'm a professional, too. I was wondering how you felt about really putting on a show with this next Arena, instead of just hacking up some kids and then petering out in the last week."
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"What's in it for me?"
A question he doesn't exactly like to ask, but has to.
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She shrugs. "If not I'll just get the zombie chick to kill me at the end. But I am getting to the top two."
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Was she asking for his protection?
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"No."
Surely she wouldn't want him to be anything but blunt about it.
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"Sure."
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"I didn't get your name."
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She doesn't offer to shake hands, just pushes her sunglasses back to the bridge of her nose and returns her attention to the television.