thecapitol | He's happy to be here

Entry tags:

He's happy to be here

Who: Gambit and anyone
What: Waking up in a horrible place
Where: District 10 Suites, the Common Area of the Training Center
When: Yesterday, before the crowning
Warnings: Gonna be a little slow, sorry

District 10
Remy stared at the room, then the peacekeeper, then the communicator he was handed, then the elevator the peacekeeper disappeared into.

He wanted to make a fuss, but the Cajun was still trying to figure out if this was some sort of horrible prank or if this was real on some level. Maybe this was some crazy telepath's idea of torture? If so, it would make more sense to add his friends here instead of total strangers.

Well, weirder things have happened... Didn't that guy mention something about dying?

Remy turned back to the room... "Bonjour?" Someone's having a serious delayed reaction.

Common Area
This wasn't a dream. It wasn't a telepath. He was about 85% sure this was all actually real. He had really been pulled into another dimension to fight people to the death. That was a real thing...

Remy just sat down pretty heavy on one of the sofas, rubbing his face. Might as well do so here. Everywhere else was full of people, too. He really needed a drink.

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God was mad at him? That was a sound theory, considering their situation.

Remy frowned to the explanation. "At least it ain't all of us. What about you, mon ami? You one of those monsters?"

It didn't take a genius to figure out that he needed friends here, but the right friends. Not someone that would stab him in the back or get him stabbed there accidentally.

"Yeah." He sighed not at all proud of the fact. "I did something unforgivable. So god made me like this." He gestured vaguely at his stone covered face and turned back to his lamb who was now licking his thick rough fingers.

"But I mean like...the kind of monsters who don't talk or think. Those are only in the arenas."

Remy's red eyes flashed as he looked Orc up and down. Honestly, he wasn't sure what to make of the guy and he wasn't going to say anything about the first comment on so little information. If what he did was so bad that he pissed off God, then he didn't want to interfere with that anyway, now did he?

Still, his eyebrow raises. "What? Ya mean like dragons and bears and stuff?" That sounds like it could spice up a fight to the death.

"Uh..." How best to describe the Doki Doki?

"Well they looked like...cute cartoon animals right? But the minute you were hurt they'd go all crazy and rip you apart and eat you. With big teeth." He mimed having big teeth using his fingers.

"And there were these sand worms. As big as like, a train. Just exploding out of the ground. And this one gross thing I can't even explain." Because Orc was the master of descriptive story telling.

"There are videos you can watch of the last match if you wanna see." He pointed at the remote on the table.

... Remy just blinked at him. This all sounded... pretty horrible, actually. It made sense to add in things like that, but where do they even get that stuff from?

"Videos... That sounds like a whole lot a' fun." He knew he needed to watch them... He wasn't looking forward to it, but still.

Orc snorted "Yeah, a whole lot of fun." His gravely voice was every bit as sarcastic on the fact.

"It helps if you drink...but try not to eat while watching it." He had made that mistake and almost ruined his appetite...almost. Nothing could ruin a FAYZ kids appetite for long.

Sounds like a party. Remy groaned. "Does it actually help anything to bother watchin' that stuff?"

This was sounding like less and less of a good idea.

His massive shoulders shrugged again "Dunno. They say it's supposed to teach you how the others fight and stuff. Just seems like a nightmare to me." He had no desire to relieve his arena or anyone elses no matter what the mentors suggested.

Remy sighs. "Least I could do is look. Might help." Wouldn't hurt, except his mood and stomach, that is.

"Merci, mon ami." ... Oh yeah. "Uh, thanks. For the information."

Orc puzzled over his words even after he explained them, it sounded familiar for whatever reason.

"Where are you from?" He inquired going against his instinct to stay quiet and let life continue on without him.

"Down south Louisiana. 'Course, I never heard of a Panem, so I can't say if it even exists here or not."

Not his first time in another dimension/off the planet. These aren't his favorite trips though.

"Oh." It seemed so mundane to hear about someone from America.

"I'm from California." He added deciding it would be polite. It was hard enough being from another world entirely. At least they could have a country in common. Not that it would help Orc sift through the accent any easier.

"Cal- You a mutant?"

For some reason, California wasn't an answer he expected. Sure, the guy did say he was turned into whatever he is now, but they're also in some other world... Maybe. Maybe they aren't. Maybe this is just a very badly executed kidnapping.

"Mutant?" That brought to mind images from movies and old cartoons.

"Yeah I guess...sort of. I'm some kinda freak that's for sure." He grumbled his mood taking a slow decline as he was forced to reflect on what he was.

"They got the power to bring us back from the dead but they sure don't care about making me human."

Doesn't sound sure... "Where I'm from, we got mutants all over. I'm one of 'em."

Maybe this guy was from somewhere else... or maybe he just didn't know what he was yet. "So these folks don't like takin' requests?"

Orc regarded him curiously for a moment then shrugged. He didn't look like a freak, but then again not all freaks were that easy to spot. He'd learned that the hard way.

"It ain't about what we want. It's what they think the people watchin' us wanna see." He explained as best he could.

... "You sayin' that arena's televised? For who? Everyone?"

He knew the big guys would be watching, but-

Orc nodded. "Everyone in the city, and in the districts. They even have parties and stuff where they all sit around and watch us eat dirt." By which of course he meant die.

When he'd found out he'd been angry, but they'd distracted him with beer so he had avoided causing trouble. He'd been too tired for trouble.

... "So, we all a bunch a Romans or somethin'? Thought we were passed this."

He might have an accent, but Remy's well read and knows plenty about the good old Caesar days.

Orc was confused, because while he had heard of Romans, history was not his strongest subject.

"Uh...no. I told you I'm from California...not Rome."

"... Right, sorry."

He might could find a friend in in this guy, but it was going to be a roller coaster getting there.

"By the way, name's Gambit."

Orc rose to his feet, his full stature being somewhere over six feet, maybe even seven. A slow motion brought his hand up to shake.

"Orc." He answered gruffly. This guy seemed alright. Like a cool older kid in high school who he might have once tried to get to buy him beer.

Remy nodded and shook his hand firmly. "Good ya meet ya. Someone else here who ain't crazy like these Peacekeepin' folks."

Releasing the handshake Orc gave a single nod.

"I'm not crazy. Just another monster." This perpetually depressed rock coated teen had a hard time not saying things like that.

"Be careful though. They don't like when you point out how stupid this all is."

"We'll see about that," he mentioned about the first comment. About the warning, though, he just nodded. A little obvious, but a reminder was a good idea, since he knew he could get a hot head easily in this place.

"I'll keep it in mind. You been here long?"

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