ɢᴀʟᴇ (traps) wrote in evaluation, @ 2020-02-04 08:46:00 |
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Manny still didn’t fully understand why as a member of the purple block you had to actively invite somebody over as a guest rather than just being able to let them come and go freely. Another stupid rule. Honestly it was hard to keep up and at some point Manny knew he was going to stop paying attention. It would definitely bite him in the ass eventually but that was definitely a concern for future!Manny as present!Manny was hanging around the front of purple block, smoking, and waiting for Gale to arrive. Honestly? He was nervous. His powers weren’t… exactly easy to talk about and not always well received because who wanted to know somebody who could talk to the dead and also had a habit of being possessed? He hadn’t been a resident of Midnight long enough to forget how the rest of the world had treated him before he’d found his voice and knew how to push back. “Fuck,” he said with a shake of his head as he flicked ash aside and brought the cigarette back to his lips to take a slow drag. Having to be invited to the purple block was stupid, especially when you could just come and go to the other blocks, but Gale supposed he wasn’t wholly unsurprised. There were a lot of little rules and standards that seemed harmless at first glance, but they all added up and culminated into something that screamed be wary at him. He didn’t like having to answer to someone, the way he was obviously answering to some unseen power that was running the show here. And he was getting steadily more and more tired of going along with it - the fact that he had no control felt like a tick, burrowing into him. Annoying. But at the very least, he could try to make friends and allies - he had Gretel, and Ronan, and those were the two people he felt closest to; for him it was more about quality over quantity. Something told him that he could trust Manny though, that they were similar. So he guessed he’d see where his instincts took him. His feet took him to the cafe, where he picked up two to-go containers holding cheeseburgers and fries inside, then over to where the purple block was. “Guess I need the secret password?” he chuckled roughly as he approached. “Don’t even get me started,” Manny said with both a rueful smile and a shake of his head. “Beyond stupid.” No denying that. Of course it could be worse, they could be settling their differences with knife fights and sharing of lists. “C’mon.” He took one final drag before crushing out the still burning cigarette out beneath the thick tread of his boots, smoke escaping him in one full lungful out. “I’m hungrier than I thought I was.” Evident by how his stomach was apparently very interested in the smell of cheeseburgers and fries. Manny pulled open the door and held it for Gale before letting it swing shut behind them. “You wanna hang in the communal areas or head up to my room?” It would be more private but Manny would defer to Gale’s preference. “Your room’s good,” Gale decided, since if they were going to talk about something personal like powers, they wouldn’t want to be out in the open. Or at least, he assumed as much. “Lead the way.” He glanced around, drinking in his surroundings - just to see what the fuss was all about anyway, when it came to the purple block. Ultimately, he decided that it just wasn’t his style - it was dreamy, romantic, clearly constructed with fine materials (marble, gold, things like that) but it was just too much. Too rich, like an explosion of cotton candy dreams and birthday party confetti. “Wow, this is a lot,” was his observation. He wasn’t sure how people were sorted into blocks (some kind of ‘personality test’) but come to think of it, none of them were really his style. Maybe green, just due to its simplicity and outdoorsy feel. But he’d been put into red with Gretel and he wouldn’t leave her there. Manny had been in the green block to begin with but he’d never been big on nature so he’d moved to a block which was one of his favourite colours though admittedly he was beginning to think he’d maybe made the wrong choice. Still, at least, people were somewhat sane in this block and he didn’t need to think about buying any sort of kevlar. “Oh, it is,” he shared with a snort. “Not the block I started in. I was over in green when I first arrived, but that place is like a graveyard.” Literally, hardly any bodies. Probably because everybody dipped and moved elsewhere. He led the way to his room and unlocked the door, inviting Gale in with a sweep of his arm, before he himself trailed in and proceeded to discard his cigarettes, zippo, shades and jacket on the nearby table. “It’s the sort of place I wouldn’t mind seeing clients in but it’s a little much for the whole living in aspect.” His clients had always been pretty damn rich because honestly Manny wouldn’t take advantage of those without anything to their name given that was how he’d spent a large majority of his life. “Clients?” Gale perked up at that. He stepped into the room, grateful for a break from the furnishings of the main areas like a wine bar, what even. And when he got inside, he unpacked his treasures - well, took the containers from the plastic bag. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted on your burger so I got a bunch of things on the side?” Lettuce, tomato, packets of mayo and ketchup and mustard. The last thing he wanted to do was offend someone with toppings choices. He knew pretty much nothing about toppings choices; he’d been introduced to burgers in that Canadian diner and lamented that he hadn’t grown up in District 10, where the cattle roamed. Not that he’d have gotten to taste much of it anyway. “But yeah, what kind of clients?” He was curious. Especially about something that required a home visit. Manny’s room while it fitted in with the overall decor of the purple block was much more… Manny and a whole lot less… blocky. It helped that he had his own distinct style that extended into the smallest of touches from the necklaces which hung from a nearby table lamp to the dark t-shirt hanging over the back of a nearby chair and the boots he now removed to get a little more comfortable. “Thanks,” he murmured as he lifted the packet of ketchup to his teeth and ripped into the edge so that he could generously cover his burger with that along with some lettuce and tomato. A flick of the tongue caught the traces of ketchup in the right corner of his mouth before a ringed thumb was caught by his mouth as that also needed cleaning and then Manny was making himself comfortable on the edge of his bed. He took his first bite and chewed on that as he tried to figure out the best way to explain what he meant by clients. Rip the band aid off or something. “I’m psychic,” he began. “A medium to be exact. I can hear, see, and communicate with the dead. I can also if needed summon and expel ghosts." There was also the whole "I can also be possessed and have been possessed" thing but he decided to keep it under wraps. "Additionally I do shit like help ward off evil spirits, street magic, palmistry, tarot card reading, that kind of thing." It was honestly more trouble than it was worth but he’d been born this way and there wasn’t much he could do to change it. “My clients, back home, they’d come to me to make contact with the people they’d lost.” “Oh.” Gale blinked those stormy grey eyes, because he wasn’t expecting - actually, he wasn’t sure what he was expecting. But as he sat there in Manny’s desk chair, he definitely knew that hearing ‘I can communicate with the dead’ was not up there on the list. Then again, he supposed it wasn’t too weird. His girlfriend was a witch. Ronan could dream something, and make it real - kind of warping reality, in a sense. Figured there’d be a few people around here who could speak to spirits in the beyond too. “I know what that’s like. To want to talk to someone who’s passed on,” he said thoughtfully. Mainly, he was thinking of his father - but Gale was haunted by so many ghosts, it was a certainty that his head was full of them. Prim. Finnick. Boggs. The hundreds of those he hadn’t managed to save, when District 12 went up in flames. “People...they must be desperate, huh?” And Manny must be in high demand. Yep. That about summed up most people’s reactions to the news that Manny could in fact commune with the dead and did so on a fairly regular basis. He picked at his hamburger a little and popped the freed up piece into his mouth, figuring it was a good thing to keep his hands busy lest he fidget. He nodded his head. “Yeah, that’s one way of putting it. Each person is different and each one has their own reason for wanting to talk to the dead. Some for good reasons as in they want to tell that person that they miss them and that they love them but then others have scores to settle, questions to answer, it all depends on the client.” It was probably a horrible thing that he made profit off all those desires but he did, he needed to live after all. “The other stuff,” he said with a wave of his hand. “The stuff that doesn’t involve talking to the dead is a whole lot less demanding.” Gale popped a few fries into his mouth, considering it all. Mostly he was just thinking that Manny must not get much of a break - especially if the ghosts sought him out, like he was some kind of beacon meant to bridge the gap between the physical plane and the spiritual, meant to pass on their messages. “And you always see them?” he asked, with a furrow of his brow. He also imagined it couldn’t be pleasant - what if Manny saw them as they were when they died? Like a whole horrorshow of blood and gore, in some cases? That was enough to give a person constant nightmares. “I’m...that seems like a lot.” No judgment for how Manny made his money either - it was what made the world go round, he was well aware. “Always,” Manny said with a small distinct nod of his head. “I mean I haven’t seen any since I got here but back home? I’d see them all the time, everywhere.” All the time, even in the most inappropriate moments. “I’ve seen them since I was a kid.” Just something he’d gotten used to but at the same time dealing with it wasn’t easy, it definitely explain some of his… issues and how sleep wasn’t really his best friend. He hadn’t really slept well since… well, Creek, but no point looking back at what he’d lost. Of course he hadn’t realised what they were at first, it wasn’t until his grandmother had caught him playing with the spirits of dead children that she’d explained and Manny realised that not everybody saw what he did. “It’s worse when it’s demons.” He couldn’t imagine what it must be like, to close your eyes and just see ghosts - Gale assumed a lot of them were resentful about being dead. It wasn’t an easy thing to accept, despite knowing that life was precious and you had to make every day count. For some, maybe it was easier. An acceptance that he hoped he fell into, whenever the time came. “I hope you get some kind of break here, at least,” he noted, after swallowing a mouthful of burger. “It’s kind of its - own little dimension, I’m thinking.” And no one had died here. That he knew of, anyway. “Here’s to that,” Manny lifted a handful of french fries in the form of a toast. “But only time will tell.” Thankfully this place has alcohol and drugs by the looks of things. Both were and remained his choice of offsetting the crappy nature of his abilities. Not that he needed them, potentially, but habits weren’t things you just got over. Especially when said habits were substance related. He was a fine catch, wasn’t he? Jesus no wonder Creek had run for the hills and Patience had only wanted him as vessel for Theophilus. “Though I can’t think of any other reason I was pulled here if not for the fact I have powers and if there’s nothing here for me to see makes me wonder what it is I’m here for.” “I think we’re all wondering that,” Gale chuckled wryly. He sat in Manny’s desk chair, backward, arms resting over the top rung. “For me, I was taken from being on the frontlines of war - we’d just toppled the oppressive regime crushing my country under an iron fist. Children were sent from each District to kill each other for entertainment each year, it was called the Hunger Games. Controlled by our rich overlords in the Capitol.” But that was all over now, and every District was supposed to come together to run the country together - it was called a democracy, like our ancestors, Plutarch Heavensbee had once said. If it worked for them, it should work for the new government emerging from the rubble - but Gale wasn’t so sure. “A lot of this,” he gestured vaguely, just indicating their general surroundings. “Reminds me of the Capitol. The control over us, what we’re supposed to do. It seems harmless, mostly, but I wonder if it’s leading up to anything more.” Wherever Gale was from it sounded pretty messed up. “That’s fucked up.” Sending children into what sounded like a sport to see who could kill each other the best. “Really fucking messed up.” “That’s the real question,” Manny agreed as he took a bite out of his burger and chewed on it thoughtfully. “Generally speaking? I’ve learned that there is always a much bigger grander scheme even if none of us are being let in on it.” He’d learned that lesson rather painfully in the last few months. It only took a few more bites before the burger and fries were demolished and Manny rose to his feet to discard of the trash in the nearby bin. No doubt about that - bigger ideas and goals were at play here. Gale had no idea what they were, but given the way the environment shifted and changed on a dime, it was probably something like forcing people into specific conditions to see what they’d do. Collecting data for one gigantic experiment. No matter what, Gale didn’t care for it. Following suit, Gale also tossed the trash in its bin - he’d finished everything too, of course, since that was pretty much etched into his very being at this point: don’t waste food. “I’m sure we’ll get there eventually - “ Either by patiently going along with everything (doubtful) or forcing the hand of the experimenters (much more likely). “Helps to have allies though so even if I’m in the certifiably insane block, you can count on me if you need anything.” Manny glanced over at Gale and a smile was given. “Yeah, same to you. I mean I’m not in the certifiably insane block but the offer goes both ways.” Though from the sounds of things Gale had a lot more practical skills than Manny did which meant if anything he’d be getting the crappier end of the deal. “And thanks for not running for the hills or looking at me like I’m crazy when I told you what I can do.” “There are lots of people here with all sorts of powers,” Gale shrugged. “I don’t have anything myself, but you’re in good company.” It had taken him a little while to actually grasp the idea of someone being able to throw fire or move things without touching them - he’d honestly never heard of anything like that; comic books and films about superheroes with similar powers had basically died out in Panem. His family’s only television had been a beat-up old thing that barely worked, gathering dust there in the corner of their living room - besides, no one had time to watch Capitol propaganda. Which was the only thing on the air until recently. But at any rate, Gale would be happy to add to his little collection of people. You never know, they could be in a place like Russian Christmas again, and would be relying heavily on hunting and gathering skills to stay fed - skills that he had in spades. Or they could be someplace else entirely - Manny’s skills would have come in handy in the haunted house, that was for sure. So it was good to have a balance of talents. And friends. Those were nice too - he supposed that another reminder of that wouldn’t hurt anyway. |