Test Drive Meme!

[hey35andholding]

HOW TO PLAY:

* Tag into this post with a pup you're thinking of apping to the bar with a brief EP set within Milliways and/or its universe. You can be new to the game, or simply want to test out a fresh pup.

* If you already play at Milliways, feel free to tag in with your own characters and interact with the new pups. You can also post your own EPs for these new characters to thread with.

* Mingle, post, and have fun!

Comments

[pickledtribute]

"How old are you then - fifteen... sixteen?" Young enough to be reaped. Young enough to die for your viewing pleasure. "That's pretty damn young to be judging someone else, don't you think?"

[not_his_pa]

"Just seventeen and I ain't judgin', just said what I know of others I've seen that take to drink. I've seen it wreck a few families. I'm sorry for presumin' on your character, sir,"

Thankfully his father wasn't one but they're common enough in Bisbee.

[pickledtribute]

"Hmph." He eyes the kid blearily - he still doesn't remember who this kid's supposed to be - the most obvious choice, one of the two male tributes in his Games, isn't the right one. "Suppose that's better."

[not_his_pa]

"I'm William Evans and this is Milliways. Where'd you come in from?"

[pickledtribute]

"My bedroom." He answers - there's no one in the whole neighborhood to hear him talk to figments of his imagination, and he supposes it will help pass the time.

[not_his_pa]

"It's still there through the door you came through, time ain't movin' there. So if anyone's waitin' for you, they won't miss you,"

Though he's not sure if anyone will be waiting for this man, they might be.

[pickledtribute]

His expression hardens, and for a moment the killer that survived the Games peers through drink-deadened eyes.

"It's going to be one of those nights, is it?"

[not_his_pa]

That look makes William think of Charlie Prince and Wade and he rests his hand on his hip but there's no gun there,

"What do you mean?"

[pickledtribute]

He waves a hand, visibly attempting to ignore what he's taken as a very familiar, very painful taunt.

"You have to have something more original than that, surely."

[not_his_pa]

"I do, sir?"

William would really like to know what this man thinks he's saying and possibly a weapon.

[pickledtribute]

"Great. Now my brain's playing stupid. Surely I get enough of that up in the Capitol." Or in town, from people who have forgotten that 'Victor' means 'condemned'.

[not_his_pa]

"You're from back East, sir?"

Maybe if he just keeps asking questions, some sense will get through to this man.

[pickledtribute]

He rolls his eyes - he's almost feeling nostalgic now, for the hallucinations that come in and stick to rehashing the past without odd deviations.

"I suppose District Twelve is one of the more Eastern-most Districts." He allows. "Don't see what that has to do with anything."

[not_his_pa]

William sighed as right, another world, that would make sense,

"Nothin', never mind, different worlds."

[pickledtribute]

"Not a District Twelve boy, huh? Didn't think so - you don't have the right look about you. And I know I've never been your Mentor." He really wishes he could forget those boys.

[not_his_pa]

"No, sir, I've never met you before or seen your face. What sort of mentor are you?"

That's a word he thinks of in the nicer sort of books with boys who go to schools and mentors teach them how to be gentlemen.

[pickledtribute]

"... Not a very good one, by all accounts." He acts like he doesn't care. He acts like it doesn't burn him up every time he has to take some poor half-starved kid and turn them into a fighter in three days.

[not_his_pa]

"What sort of mentorin' do you do?"

At least the questions seem to be keeping that cold look out of his eyes.

[pickledtribute]

"... As if there's more than one kind, boy." He grumbles, taking another swig from his bottle.

[not_his_pa]

"You ain't in your world anymore and I ain't from there. Sorry for askin'. I was just tryin' to be polite."

[pickledtribute]

"That was you trying to be polite?" Haymitch's grin is awkward, like he isn't entirely sure how it goes, but he's trying anyway.

[not_his_pa]

"I said I was tryin',"

Haymitch hasn't really been doing that much for his part of the conversation. William feels he's been doing a decent job.

[pickledtribute]

"Yeah well, kid, the only thing trying does successfully is get you killed." District Twelve kids try every year. They try so very hard. They all want to go home.

And every year he accompanies home two pine boxes.

[not_his_pa]

William opens his mouth and closes it, this man's world sounds awful. Perhaps there's a war on and William rubs his face as he tries to think of a decent answer,

"Yeah, I know. Don't draw a gun unless you mean to use it. Don't always help if the other fellows have more guns."

[pickledtribute]

"Guns?" Haymitch snorts. That'll be the day - guns would make the Games entirely too clean and humane. "Who the hell needs guns, kid? Hell, it's a good year when you get real weapons - there was that one all they had was building rubble. Damn thing took forever." He hoped for a whole five days that his female tribute was going to win that year. She was smart, she was crafty... but that brute from Two got his hands on a pipe from somewhere, and that put paid to her.