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
Dirk lets out a snort. He's actually amused right now, and the sound is pretty damn condescending. "So out of everything," he says, the amusement and condescension clear in his voice, "You chose knitting. Oh man, you're so fuckin' scary. That goes good on a resume. Arena champion and professional knitter."
no subject
It's a miracle Eridan just shrugs his shoulders. Then again, he has the satisfying knowledge that he doesn't have to get thrown into the arena. He doesn't have to fight for his life time after time, and he knows what he went through to have the luxury of not needing to work anymore. "Why not? Can't go wrong with shit to wear. 'Sides, they like it if your talent plays into the arena you went through in some way."
no subject
"Why not?" He says, "Because it's fuckin' lame. You could do so much better. I mean really, you could... I dunno, you could... sew." Yeah, that's right. Sewing is so much better. Smuppets, aw yeah. But still, he quirks an eyebrow. "And how the hell does it play into your arena?"
no subject
"Sewin'? How is sewin' any better?" Sewing takes so much less skill. "Because my arena was a fuckin' frozen wasteland an' I almost froze to death. A few less fortunate assholes did freeze to death, so why not make shit that's gonna keep you warm?"
no subject
Guuurl you did not just insult sewing. "It's just fucking better. I mean look at all the shit you can make- all the shit that doesn't make you look like a grandma when you wear it." He doesn't understand the point of it, though. "From what I've gathered it ain't like you have to go back, so what's the point in tying your talent in with it? It doesn't make sense."
no subject
Guuuurl he totally did. "I don't see what grandparents have to do with knittin'." Because they have to work themselves to death just like everybody else! "The Capitol likes knowin' they had an impact on you. That they know you'll never forget what you went through."
no subject
He just gives Eridan the most unimpressed look he can possibly muster. "So what you're telling me is you're just playing right the fuck into their hand." Why the hell would you do what they want you to do? "You've already won the game, why go along with anything they say or want you to do? Why let 'em continue influencing a damn thing?"
no subject
You can take your unimpressed look and shove it, because Eridan's already looking unimpressed back. "The Hunger Games ain't really a thing you win. You can survive it, but once you're in you're in for good, unless you want to get on the Capitol's bad side. 'Sides, I got mentorin' to do, so it's not like I can just cut myself off."
no subject
"So what, mentoring is a mandatory thing?" he asks, "What's stopping you from just not doing it. Like, seriously, they can't have that much hold over you after it's all over, can they?" Forgive him for being so damn skeptical, but he just can't see how they have that much control over someone.
no subject
"Yes an' no. There's usually multiple mentors at a time for a district, barrin' any unforeseen circumstances, but..." He sighs, shaking his head. "But that ain't the point. The point is, yes, the Capitol and the Gamemakers can have that much hold over you. They're givin' you the life you have now, your home in Victor's Row, your money, your protection. An' if they wanted to, they could just send some peacekeepers to your home an' kill you because why not? It's the Capitol, they can do whatever they want to you an' there's nothin' you can do to stop it."
He tuts, shoving his yarn and needles back into his bag and giving Dirk a sour look. "Does that convince you at all?"
no subject
Eh.
"It gives me shit to think about at the very least." He's a stubborn buttface, so of course that's all he's going to say on the matter.
no subject
And with that he begins stepping away, swinging his bag in time with his strides.
no subject