you can hear the city talking like it doesn't care.

[soldieronwards]

Who| Bucky Barnes and everyone else
What| An arrival and a lot of frustration.
Where| Floor 7 of the Training Center, the city circle, and the Rooftop.
When| Just about now.
Warnings/Notes| Nothing other than some references to violence.

His head is still pounding like it's out to get him.

It's his own fault. He wouldn't stop fighting the people who came to take him away from the gymnasium of the Training Center after his scoring. It wasn't that he had anything against them--it was just that he could see the Gamemakers right in front of him behind the force field, he could identify every place on their bodies he'd have to strike to take them down for good, and he didn't know when he'd get that opportunity again. He had to find a way to turn off the force field and get at them, right now. It shouldn't have been difficult, but his arm wasn't producing the EMP it usually could, and he couldn't find any other way of turning that damned force field off, and people kept coming at him to try to pull him away. In the end, he didn't want to actually kill those people--he figured they might be pawns as much as he was--so he couldn't fight all out, and they overpowered him. When he woke up, his head ached like an earthquake had hit it.

Bucky doesn't know if they deliberately hit him with something that would hurt afterwards or if it's an unhappy coincidence, but really, it's his own fault either way. It doesn't matter. He needs information, now.

[PROMPT ONE] He takes a few minutes to explore District 7's residential floor before leaving. It's good to know the weaknesses and strengths of where he's being kept--a prison just like the worst ones he's been in even if it's rolling in the lap of luxury. He grimaces at the secure windows, examines his surroundings for surveillance devices, growing more and more bitter all the while. By the time he finally stalks out of there--

[PROMPT TWO] --he might as well have a stormcloud over him, but somehow, when he walks out of the Central Commons into the Capitol proper, it's vanished, submerged into the same place he's hiding his headache. He seems practically relaxed as he wanders through the city circle and studies the Presidential Mansion nearby, his face all innocent appreciation. He's casing it out for weaknesses, of course, and finding none. But he keeps his frustration safely hidden.

[PROMPT THREE] He keeps his frustration safely hidden until he finally makes his way back into the Training Center, steps into the elevator, and punches buttons in exasperation without thinking about where he wants to go. He winds up on the Roof, staring at the beautiful garden around him; he walks through it in a near-daze, his head still aching. And finally, he stops in front of a statue and, without thinking once more, lashes out and punches it, left-handed.

The statue doesn't so much as chip, much less crack.

Comments

[metalicarus]

Jet's go-o place was the roof these days. More and more, he'd find himself going up there when he needed to clear his head (since flying wasn't available to him anymore) and with everything that had been going on recently, there was a lot to clear away from his head.

Of course, any head-clearing was interrupted by the sound of metal hitting stone, jolting him out of his thoughts and sending him to investigate. What he saw was a guy...with a metal arm. And not just some prosthetic, either, something more like Albert's, except his left instead of Albert's right. Was this guy a cyborg too? And he actually hadhis cybernetics.

It was too intriguing, Jet couldn't keep his distance, plus, it would be a little creepy to hang back and just watch some stranger without saying anything. He stepped out of his 'hiding' place and stuck his hands into his pockets. "Too bad. I hate that thing, it would have been nice to see it shattered."

Really, metal arm, stone statue, a sound of metal hitting stone: it wasn't that hard to piece together.

[soldieronwards]

Silence for a moment. It wasn't that Bucky hadn't noticed he was being watched. It was just that it took him a few seconds to get himself back down to a place where he could actually talk to another human being instead of just stand there sizzling with rage, at this point. Finally, though, he turned and glanced over the other guy.

"Yeah, but someone would've had to clean the damn thing up, and you can bet it wouldn't be the Gamemakers." His voice was flat.

[metalicarus]

He smirked and shook his head. "No way in hell. But it prob'ly wouldn't be you, either. Celebrity status and all that. If you want to break something, though, I recommend the lamps in the common room on your floor. They make a nice shattering sound and everything."

Jet wasn't very good at stopping himself from breaking something when he got too mad and this place had certainly given him plenty to be mad over for the last couple months or however long it was at this point. It was also pretty easy to lose track.

"Or, you know, you could just beat the crap out of something in the training center downstairs; I find that's the next best thing to beating the crap out of the people who actually deserve it."

[soldieronwards]

He relaxed just a little, once it was clear that this guy was another Tribute like himself. "I'm sick of that place already. They wanted me to perform for them there like this was some kind of variety show."

And he curled and uncurled his hands into and out of fists. "I'm not giving up on beating the crap out of those people who actually deserve it yet. Even if I'm at one hell of a disadvantage."

[bindsthedead]

The roof was- well, it was relatively isolated, and while Sabriel wasn't the sort to stew in her own helplessness, it had a good view of the surrounding city.

Then she saw a man punching a statue, and approached.

"I don't think that will do any good," she said quietly, watching him. He was probably another tribute, she decided.

[soldieronwards]

He'd known, of course, that it would do no good. It had been purely an emotional response of utter frustration. Still, being called out on it by someone who'd seen him was a bit of an embarrassment.

His shoulders slumped slightly. "Yeah. I know. But what will do any good around here?"

He sighed. "Man, I should've at least been able to break the statue."

[bindsthedead]

"I don't know," Sabriel said, "Not yet, anyway." There was something, Sabriel was sure. She just didn't know what yet, and she knew she'd have to work quickly to find it before the arena started.

"I should be able to use magic," Sabriel admitted, "But I can't. I don't know if it's a property of this- this place, or if they did something to me- to us."

3!

[silberfuchs]

The roof seems to be the only safe place to lurk around when the weight of company is too much for Albert. After he'd made sure the Capitol knew exactly what he thought of them - publicly, on the network - the German has been less and less social. He tells himself it's in an effort to protect anyone the Capitol might associate with him and drag off for leverage, but really he just doesn't know what else to do and that sot of frustration is always something he's dealt with alone.

The clang of metal on stone grabs his attention and he whips his head around to find the source of the noise, white eyes narrowed and cautious and body squared up to defend himself. He scans the rooftop, categorizing cover and potential threats, then blinks as he catches sight of the brunette down the rooftop from him caught in the familiar pose of someone who's decided to take out monumental frustration on an inanimate object.

He can relate.

It takes Albert a moment to decide to speak, but considering he doesn't recognize the man, he's likely a new tribute and while Albert had come up here for a little air and privacy, he can't ignore someone so obviously upset. He's been there. He's still there.

"The punching bags in the training area have somewhat better give, if you haven't been down there yet."

[soldieronwards]

It takes a moment for Bucky to speak, and when he does, his voice is still laced with frustration. "Oh, I've been down there. They had to score me, right? After that, I don't really feel like going back for a while."

Still, he turns away from the unharmed statue to look over the other man approaching him. By the time he does that, his expression is gathered back into a tense mask of almost-calm.

[silberfuchs]

"Right, the scoring. I forgot about that." He shrugs. "It means very little, frankly."

The man's expression is one Albert's not unused to seeing. Guarded, but not unnaturally, as if he's had a lot of practice at being guarded and it's worked its way into his demeanor as a kind of default state of at ease. No soldier who's seen combat is ever truly at ease. He knows he isn't, especially not after his outburst on the network.

He doesn't offer a handshake, nor does he offer any other form of touch as a greeting, instead inclining his head politely. "Albert Heinrich. District 3."

[gardienne]

"Monsieur." A voice calls out to him, and from behind a rather large potted tree fern emerges a girl dressed in an outfit that belongs more typically in a ballroom than on a rooftop. In contrast to the fancy dress though, Eponine's feet are bare, her hair matted and her makeup just a little bit smeared. She doesn't seem even aware of her appearance though.

She comes towards Bucky hesitantly. "Do not hit it. There is so little point - you will just damage yourself. Are you new here, Monsieur?"

[soldieronwards]

Somehow, the sight of a dirtied girl in a ballroom gown just adds to the surreality of this whole situation. Bucky stares blankly at her for a long moment as his thoughts spin uselessly in his head.

Finally, he sighs and lowers his arm to his side. "Yeah. I just got here. I guess you'd know better. Hey. Are you okay? You look kind of out of it."

[gardienne]

"I am hiding from my Pa. My real one, I mean. I have had enough of his schemes today." She seems completely nonplussed by his staring. "It is nice up here. Monsieur Enjolras calls it a 'gilded cage' - I suppose it is true, for you cannot throw yourself from the top though I thought about it before I knew. But it is nice up here all the same. The Peacekeepers - that is the word for the police, Sir - they hardly never come here."

She smiles sadly. "It will be better when you have died. You know how much it hurts then. It is not so scary after that. Might I ask your name, Sir?"

gonna break the trend and choose 2

[aboveangrybees]

Being in amongst these people offers Steve information on his environment and, well, his audience. The more he learns, the more grows to resent whoever is in charge of this circus.

But those thoughts are short lived when he catches a glimpse of Bucky out of the corner of his eye. His heart drops before he turns to look, not wanting it to be him, but now looking at him properly, this man looks so much like him that he can't deny it. Right now he's not in any shape to go up against Bucky, not that it stops him from approaching, keeping his stance unoffensive.

"Bucky," Steve keeps his voice at a normal level, hoping the man won't turn, that it won't be him.

[soldieronwards]

He's been in and out of the Training Center a few times by now, but Bucky keeps returning to the city circle to case out the place. There has to be some weakness in the Presidential Mansion and its security. He'll find it, and he'll take down this President Snow. There's no other option.

If Steve were here, he wouldn't give up.

That thought hovers so persistently in his mind that he almost doesn't believe it's real when he hears that voice. Still, he can't help but turn to face the man calling his name, just in case.

"Oh, hell."

It's heartfelt. This is, as far as he's concerned, the last place in any world Steve Rogers should be.

[aboveangrybees]

Well, that wasn't the reaction he was expecting, though, really, what was he even expecting? To get attacked? Silence? Running from him? It's definitely Bucky - the arm is a dead give away - but there's something different about him. He's not sure what Bucky's done since he last saw him, what he might remember or not, but...

"You know me," it's not a question, but it's hopeful. He might not want Bucky here, but if Bucky knows him at all, then, well, it's something.

[deafscythe]

Welcome to District 7, home of the lumberjackasses. One of the tributes least popular with the sponsors wanders out of his room (the room blasting out floor-shakingly loud rock music) and observes Bucky. Justin's a blond, blue-eyed teenager dressed something like a Catholic priest, casually leaning against a wall. Bucky is new, and new things are worth looking at.

[soldieronwards]

Bucky notices someone new is there immediately, of course--he's observant enough. But he's still curiously examining a bit of fancy sculpture for any cameras or listening devices, so it's a minute before he steps back and looks at Justin. "Hey. They got kids here too, huh? It figures."

[deafscythe]

The comment actually gets a glance around, as Justin looks to see if one of the younger tributes walked in while he was watching the man. He's not used to being referred to as a kid.

"There are many types of people here." He smiles pleasantly, offering a handshake. "I am Justin Law. Welcome to District 7."

walks in 10mins late with only the best freshly-brewed coffee from france vive la france

[saisamour]

Whenever Marius isn't with Cosette, he finds contentment in the Capitol's various gardens.

None of their artificial beauty holds to the natural, time-weaved night garden at the Rue Plumet, with its overgrowth and moss-covered statues and white butterflies, but he's learned to settle for a lot of almost's during his stay that they've very nearly become good-enough's.

And so his wandering leads him to the rooftop gardens. He's so consumed with his thoughts—Cosette is a Capitol citizen now, but that does not mean she is safe, what if they decide to harm her, what if she cannot defend herself, and a thousand more what if's aggravating his worry and paranoia—that he barely notices the other man until the sudden movement catches his eye, and he turns just in time to witness the punch and to hear the dull thud of metal against rock.

A gasp that's both shocked and scandalized—but mostly scandalized—escapes him before he acquires the presence to quell it.

[soldieronwards]

For a moment, Bucky doesn't say anything. He doesn't give any sign that he heard that gasp. But he's observant enough, even in this near-trance of rage. So finally, he glances off to the side at Marius and says in wry tones, "What, never seen a guy pissed off enough to try to punch solid marble before? You're missing out."

He has to quip, has to make stupid comments. The anger still driving him remains present in his eyes.

[saisamour]

There's a very observable jump when Marius realizes that the man is actually speaking with him. He feels his cheeks heat up from the embarrassment, but it was far too late to turn away and pretend he had never seen anything.

He takes a small step forward. "F-Forgive me, monsieur, it is only that..." He pauses, and his eyes dart to one side, briefly, before glancing back at the man and continuing with, "It would be a shame to ruin the beauty of this garden."

#3

[guardiandevil]

Matt knows Bucky by reputation and nothing more, so he doesn't immediately recognize the man by scent or sound alone. He does recognize the sound of pure frustration, however. It's that sound which interrupts his brooding and draws Matt away from his perch near the edge of the roof.

A few seconds later and a few paces closer, and Matt could almost swear he smelled Natasha's conditioner lingering in the air. Curious.

"You'd better be careful there. You'll cut your hand up doing that." He's not trying to be cute, really. He's blind, remember?

[soldieronwards]

This is by now the second time he's come up to the rooftop just to vent his aggressions on the artwork. Once again, round two of Bucky Barnes versus Artsy Abstract Capitol Statue ends in a draw. This time, it attracts a viewer. Sort of.

The bemused and slightly disbelieving look Bucky gives the man approaching him is, of course, totally wasted--as he realizes after a moment of studying Matt's face.

He claps his hands together a couple of times to the distinct sound of skin on metal. "Probably not. This arm's about as likely to bleed as that statue. No offense, but this is starting to feel like a terrible joke. Who the hell wants to see a blind guy go down in a deathmatch?"

[guardiandevil]

"I keep asking myself that same question." Matt shakes his head, continuing his approach. The sound of skin on metal told him more than Bucky could likely imagine. Matt can suddenly hear the circuits and pieces of metal moving in new and exciting ways. It's instantly clear that Bucky has a prosthetic arm. "Apparently these folks are keen on pitting the disabled against one another. I hear they've got a woman in a wheelchair in there, too."

As he gets closer, he can still almost smell Natasha. It's nearly driving him mad with curiosity.

"Sorry for sneaking up on you like that. I didn't think anyone else would be up here." He extends a hand vaguely in Bucky's direction, to drive his blindness home. "I'm Matt Murdock."