Dirk Strider (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
brohoof) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2013-06-17 12:41 am
brohoof) wrote in thecapitol2013-06-17 12:41 am
Entry tags:
[OPEN]
Who| Dirk Strider and YOU. Yes, you with the face.
What| Dirk's arrival.
Where| Out in the Capitol, then the roof.
When| After his briefing.
Warnings/Notes| None that I can think of!
Dirk was... angry, to say the absolute, very least. After the trickster debacle, everything had gone to hell. Or rather, it was already hell and had only gotten worse. He had no way of knowing if Jane or Roxy or Jake were alright, thanks to being teleported away.
And then he'd woken up here. Told he had to play some sick and twisted games. It was bullshit. He has no intention of doing what they say- but he's not stupid enough to actually make a move against them right now. They took his weapon, and the only remnants of his godtier are the clothes on his back, which he's currently wearing. So that cuts flying away out of his list of potential ways to get out of this shit.
Right now? He's roaming the capitol, taking it all in and trying to look for some way to leave, even if in his gut he feels like it's pointless to even try. At the same time, he's getting gross deja vu simply from observing the capitol people. It's like reliving trickster mode all over again, with the vibrant colors and the weird sense of fashion. The only thing missing is candy in people's hair. Even their personalities seemed weirdly enthusiastic, though he never stopped to converse with anyone. He would much rather watch from a distance instead of have to talk to any of them.
Eventually when he really starts to feel like there's absolutely no way he's going to find a way back home, he stops at a nearby bench and just kind of... lays down on it. He's done. This is all bullshit, and he's just done with it all. So he's just going to lie there and stare at the sky for a while. His mind is racing though, wondering how the fuck he's going to get out of this shit and get back to his friends.
[OPTION B: Roof of the training center.]
It's hours later when the sun's finally setting and casting an orangey glow over the Capitol that Dirk makes his way back to the training center. He doesn't stop at his room though, and just decides to go up to the roof to watch the sunset. He's feeling frustratingly hollow, as if he's used up every ounce of his ability to give a fuck trying to find a way to get out of the city. Or maybe it's just that he's tired, and it's not really sunk in completely yet.
Either way, he feels simultaneously nothing, and like complete shit. So when he's on the roof, he sits down and stares out at the Capitol, the way the dying sunlight reflects over the buildings. He'd be lying if he said the place wasn't gorgeous. Absolutely so. But it wasn't for him. It was too fancy, too... foreign. He'd rather be back in the Medium than be here.
After a while, he lets out a sigh and runs a shakes his head. "Son of a dick, this is stupid," he murmurs to himself. He's angry- mostly right now, at himself. For all of his intelligence, he should be able to find a way back home. Instead, he's resigned himself to the roof watching a goddamn sunset. It felt too much like giving up. But what else was he supposed to do? It would be suicide to do anything else at this point. All he could really do is... wait, and hope an opportunity presented itself.
What| Dirk's arrival.
Where| Out in the Capitol, then the roof.
When| After his briefing.
Warnings/Notes| None that I can think of!
Dirk was... angry, to say the absolute, very least. After the trickster debacle, everything had gone to hell. Or rather, it was already hell and had only gotten worse. He had no way of knowing if Jane or Roxy or Jake were alright, thanks to being teleported away.
And then he'd woken up here. Told he had to play some sick and twisted games. It was bullshit. He has no intention of doing what they say- but he's not stupid enough to actually make a move against them right now. They took his weapon, and the only remnants of his godtier are the clothes on his back, which he's currently wearing. So that cuts flying away out of his list of potential ways to get out of this shit.
Right now? He's roaming the capitol, taking it all in and trying to look for some way to leave, even if in his gut he feels like it's pointless to even try. At the same time, he's getting gross deja vu simply from observing the capitol people. It's like reliving trickster mode all over again, with the vibrant colors and the weird sense of fashion. The only thing missing is candy in people's hair. Even their personalities seemed weirdly enthusiastic, though he never stopped to converse with anyone. He would much rather watch from a distance instead of have to talk to any of them.
Eventually when he really starts to feel like there's absolutely no way he's going to find a way back home, he stops at a nearby bench and just kind of... lays down on it. He's done. This is all bullshit, and he's just done with it all. So he's just going to lie there and stare at the sky for a while. His mind is racing though, wondering how the fuck he's going to get out of this shit and get back to his friends.
[OPTION B: Roof of the training center.]
It's hours later when the sun's finally setting and casting an orangey glow over the Capitol that Dirk makes his way back to the training center. He doesn't stop at his room though, and just decides to go up to the roof to watch the sunset. He's feeling frustratingly hollow, as if he's used up every ounce of his ability to give a fuck trying to find a way to get out of the city. Or maybe it's just that he's tired, and it's not really sunk in completely yet.
Either way, he feels simultaneously nothing, and like complete shit. So when he's on the roof, he sits down and stares out at the Capitol, the way the dying sunlight reflects over the buildings. He'd be lying if he said the place wasn't gorgeous. Absolutely so. But it wasn't for him. It was too fancy, too... foreign. He'd rather be back in the Medium than be here.
After a while, he lets out a sigh and runs a shakes his head. "Son of a dick, this is stupid," he murmurs to himself. He's angry- mostly right now, at himself. For all of his intelligence, he should be able to find a way back home. Instead, he's resigned himself to the roof watching a goddamn sunset. It felt too much like giving up. But what else was he supposed to do? It would be suicide to do anything else at this point. All he could really do is... wait, and hope an opportunity presented itself.
no subject
"It's my job to care about you foreigners, though not all of you." She brushes some of her hair back, raising her eyebrows. "I'm an escort. I'm sure the concept was explained to you...? If not, then you should bother whoever is your escort or mentor."
no subject
"An escort." He snorts. "I could make a really fuckin' obvious joke right now, but I'm feeling pretty magnanimous so I'll refrain from doing so." But he does finally move, because if she's an escort then he realizes she might be of use to him. He sits up, motioning for the newly created empty space. "I mean, if you can deign to sit among the common folk, that is."
no subject
"It wouldn't be the first time I've heard that very same joke." She will take that space, crossing her knees and raising her eyebrows at him. "You're anything but common now. You're a tribute, and I work with Tributes. Besides, they're local celebrities, so my reputation will go untarnished."
She smooths her hair back, tucking some behind her ear. "Now, is there a reason you're laying here in the middle of the day?"
no subject
He only half listens to her go on about being a tribute. He just doesn't have any interest in hearing what she has to say about it. As far as he's concerned, he's not anything more than a pig to the slaughter if what he's been told is true. Hardly a celebrity.
"Because I have nothing better to do."
no subject
It's not hard to pick up his disinterest. Sybille's had to deal with enough people who didn't know anything about Panem, and as time passed it got much easier to handle all of the varying opinions.
"I'm sure your mentor and escort would think otherwise. You could be training, or appealing to sponsors, or anything better than laying on a bench and sulking."
no subject
But after that, he just shrugs. "Look, I'm not interested in winning any popularity contest, lady. As far as training goes, maybe I could be. But I'm already pretty fuckin' confident in my skills."
no subject
Sybille laughs. She can't help it - the boy clearly doesn't know anything. "There's more to the Hunger Games than swinging your weapon of choice at whoever passes you by."