Chapter Text
RT loves his job, it’s only been a few months but it’s already better than any project he’s ever been on. Sure, he can’t look at the screen while they’re showing The Games, maybe he feels awkward when his accent is made fun of a few too many times, but what matters is how absolutely amazing his job is.
For one, the technology is astounding, he doesn’t have to bother with orthogonals, blueprints or anything. All that is in front of him is a couple computers and a modelling table. He particularly likes the modelling table, as he can move his hands to shape the environment, raising his hands to elevate and create towering mountains, he can carve deep ravines, dig out tunnels, there’s so much.
Every day RT enters the relatively ambiguous building with a childish grin on his face, so excited to see what he can do next.
This day was a bit different. As soon as RT stepped out of the elevator he was called on by his superior. Seth Bling, the soon to be retired Head Gamemaker, is a bit too casual for what their job is and enjoys poking fun at those below them. (It’s a bit ironic, later Daniel would think).
“Good lad RT, top of the mornin to ya’!” Seth says in a terrible mock of his accent. It’s become a running joke in the office by now, even though they mostly say lines popularised by the District 10 Victor Jacksepticeye.
“Good morning,” RT responds with a slight grimace, “what’s the plan for today?”
“Well, since you’ve seemed to adapt so well to the arena dev tech, it’s about time we do some study.” Seth says. He gestures for him to follow, then starts towards the cinema room with a bounce in his step. RT immediately doesn’t like where this is going.
With a slight nervous laugh, he responds “I’m good, I have a great idea to-”
“Oh I’m sure you do but it always helps to have some insight. We don’t want another 39 on our hands!”
It’s said like a joke, but the office goes silent. If people weren’t looking at them they sure are now. 39 isn’t a subject used lightly, even RT knows that. How the hell do I respond to that? Thoughts rush through his head on how to react, is this a test? Seth is still smiling, in his periferal a civil engineer looks like she’s about to run from her seat, so many are frozen mid movement, were his hands always shaking? Seth is still smiling, eyes locked on like a pred-
Someone clears their throat and as suddenly as it stopped, time seems to move again.
“My offer is still there, RT, but I’ll leave you for now. I have a few tasks for you to do before you’re let loose, make sure they’re completed by 1PM.” With a small wave, smile still clinging to his face, the Gamemaker strolls away as if nothing happened.
~~
There’s a couple post-it notes on his work-desk from different sectors. Apparently even though his job is one of the most important, being new still means he’s treated like an intern for things avoxes can’t do. It’s distinctly different to his stoic coworkers in the Capitol design branch who treated him with such respect, he’ll just have to climb the ranks for their respect once again. He’s getting tired of this by now.
Among the sticky-notes is a piece of paper that seems quite important, RT picks it up to read it.
“Hello, new Gamemaker!
I need you to go to floor 5 where the mutt designers are, there’s a dude named Kevin there. I need you to collect a USB from him which should contain some of the details about a new mutt that he’s making.
There are some things you need to know first, though. Under NO circumstance should Kevin be aware of what the use is for the mutts(he’ll call them ‘animals’ or ‘designs’, stick with what he says), who he is working for, or any details about your own job. He will constantly ask questions on these subjects, good answers are:
Film/movie creatures
Zoo ‘animals’
Cereal brand mascots
Should Kevin realise who/what he is working for, there will be serious consequences for the future of The Games.
Thank you for your compliance,
Félix Lengye, Mutt Gamemaker
[I have to add those last lines, even though they’re pretentious as shit]”
The last line was scribbled on in afterthought, a little sign of torsion in the words. Are all the Gamemakers this informal? RT sighed, pulling his back straight, he would just have to adapt to the new environment, again. There was supposed to be pride in his steps when working at such a prestigious job. So many opportunities were opened up to him, endless designs at his fingertips. He’s so happy to have this job but he’s met two Gamemakers by now and both have seemed so… Informal.
RT should get going, contemplating over others isn’t getting him closer to what he really loves about his job. The tasks aren’t going to complete themselves, after all.
~~
RT has never been on an elevator to a different floor since his tour. The elevators are located in a pure white hallway away from the actual floor. A stoic Peacekeeper stands out front, unmoving. With a small nod of respect to the Peacekeeper, he enters the elevator and makes the near silent descent to Floor 5, the Mutt Division.
RT enjoyed the silence while it lasted, because whatever is happening on Floor 5 is definitely not silence. There’s pictures on the walls of the strangest creatures RT has ever seen, long necks, gigantic cats, murderous plants? The people in there are swarming like ants, there’s a giant whiteboard full of ideas, there’s someone shouting about genetic bugs, there is so much noise and colour and voices and is something burning over there?
It takes a while for RT to gain his composure, he’s always been the one to observe things in finer details but he ain’t handling that shite right now, even if he had gloves. He repeats the sequence in his head: Find where this Kevin dude is, talk to Kevin, get the USB, leave as soon as possible. He can do this. Breathe in. Breathe out. There is a method to this madness.
He approaches a woman who seems relatively unoccupied, staring quizzically to a bluish toned egg in front of her. With a slight cough to catch her attention, he asks “Do you by chance know a man named Kevin here? Where could he be?”
She perked up, making RT slightly wince, she’s going to point out the accent, isn’t she. His thoughts were incorrect, as she replied by pointing to a relatively tall man staring at the whiteboard, “I think Benjamin knows where he is half the time, Kevin is a peculiar one here, we don’t really know what’s happening with him.”
With a quiet thanks, RT weaves around people rushing by towards the man, slightly breathless when asking “Do you know where Kevin is?”
“Well I do, but don’t ever interrupt my thought process again,” that’s a bit harsh, I just want to know where the man is. “He should be in his personal work room at the moment, it's just further right, my right, near the Deafening Owls. I’d remind you about what you can tell him but you should already know.”
The man was still staring at the whiteboard, instead with more of a glare now, as RT slipped away one more.
~~~
The door in front of his office has a traditional wooden one with hinges and a lock, that’s the first thing that confused RT. Those haven’t been seen in the Capitol for decades now, the more sleek sliding doors looked better in all modern architecture. Here the door looked like a complete eyesore compared to the aesthetic of the rest, standing out like a sore thumb yet no one noticed.
He remembers the etiquette of these doors, probably from an old book he read somewhere, and knocks his knuckles on the door three times. It’s a weird sound and his hand hurts a bit, but he knows he did the right thing when the sound of a chair screeching on the floor is heard from inside. Did the person inside knock something over? There’s definitely something tumbling inside there, maybe one of the mutts they’re making.
A man who seems even more lively than the others opens the door, waving him in animatedly.
RT steps awkwardly into the room, looking around. It’s very vibrant, feathers pinned to the wall of all colours, an old fashioned taxidermy of some long extinct creature on a shelf surrounded by jars, there're colours and shapes and textures and smells, eugh. In short, it is quite the attack on the senses. RT turns when he notices the man, around his age and height seemingly(although it is difficult to tell age in the Capitol), is waving again.
“Why hello there, I’m Kevin!”
Is he mocking me, already? Did he hear around the office about my accent? Solstices, this is going to be something I’m going to have to get used to.
With a tight smile, “I’m RT, I’m a new G- I’m new here,” RT only remembers what he should not do just in time, “I was tol-”
“Oh you’re new? That’s cool! I’m guessing I won’t get an answer out of you but I’ll try anyway; why am I here? What even is my job?” Kevin tilts his head slightly, still keeping the mock Irish accent.
“I’ve been told you’re an excellent designer for these creatures, we need ray-tracing of some video game monsters that you seem best at making. Anyway, abo-”
“That’s one I’ve actually heard before, never the ray-tracing part though,” Kevin seems more animated now, gesturing with his hands, his accent seems to be getting stronger, too. If RT hadn't seen this done before he would have sworn that Kevin actually had his accent. “Do you play many video games yourself?”
“I actually do, the recent vr games coming out have been really interesting.” Why is he still having this conversation? He needs to get back to his division. “I was actua-”
“Oh, yes! The new Half Life game was great! Although they’re sayin’ it isn’t Half Life Tree-”
RT’s brain stops. That isn’t something people pick up on about his accent, pronouncing ‘three’ like ‘tree’. Wait does this lad-
“You actually have the same accent as me?” RT bursts out, cutting Kevin off as he’s mentioning something about graphics.
“...Yes? I thought it was obvious? Why would I lie about my accent?” Kevin seemed perplexed, thankfully not offended by the outburst.
RT all of a sudden feels very embarrassed, “Well you see, there’s usually a lot of people who- there’s people that make fun of it, and I just thought...” Stumbling over his words, RT ends with a vague hand motion.
There’s a pause as they both stare at each other, Kevin’s smile turns into less of an excited puppy, instead into one of a person who simply understands.
“I’ve had the same issue, I’ve just been here long enough to learn how to deal with it. It’s unfortunate, but one day you will too.” It’s a calm, resigned tone. RT gets a better look at who this man really is, he sees the dark marks under his eyes, the slight look of confusion he seems to have. If Kevin’s been here for a while, that means he has been left in the dark, left to make sense of what he’s doing for a while, too. The first questions that he asked seem just a little bit more desperate now.
“It’s an unfortunate reality, I guess. It’s nice to finally meet a Capitol citizen with the same accent though, I haven’t met anyone outside of my family, actually. You seem like a good lad, too.” There’s a small smile on his face as he gives his unspoken offering. RT’s only had neutral work friendships at best, this seems like a good time to change that.
Kevin maintains eye contact with RT, giving him a small, almost unnoticeable nod, before his eyes widen, blurting, “I just remembered! You were here for something, right?”
Honestly, RT had forgotten too. “There was a USB that I was supposed to get, if I remember correctly.”
“Oh, that! That should be…” Kevin scrambles over to his workbench, lifting paper, his keyboard, even looking into a fishbowl that contained an unfriendly looking fish with more teeth than one should reasonably have (do fish even have teeth?). Eventually he finds it under a cereal box, for some reason, and returns to Daniel with a wide grin on his face. “Here ya go! Hope you like working here.”
Daniel returns the grin, “I’ll be sure to find out. I guess it’s time to take my leave, hope you have a good day.”
“You too.”
Daniel starts walking away, then hesitates as he’s about to close the door behind himself. He can feel that this friendship is going to have a good future, so he turns around to say something.
“I hope I will speak more to you soon, Kevin.”
Kevin, who seems to have already dug into his next project, looks up to his new co-worker to reply.
“Good luck.”
With a mild click, Daniel shuts the door behind himself, somehow with a wider grin than he had when entering the building.