Who Clara Murphy and YOU
What Clara just arrived and is not taking it well.
Where District 10, Training Center, Central Commons Bar
When Following the arrival of the newest batch of tributes
Warnings/Notes Maybe some swearing? Also, as is mentioned in the post, Clara thinks this is all some crazy dream, but probably won't mention that to anyone.

( Standing still is hard )

Who| De and Venus, Punchy, Bucky, Chris and/or Spike.
What| De trying to avoid thinking about the upcoming arena.
Where| The Speakeasy and the roof.
When| The few days before the arena. Separate days for each prompt.
Warnings/Notes| Drinking, hooking up.

Bar; evening

So this place wasn't a dive, but it was becoming a comfort to De. It was the closest thing to homey she had found outside the training center. She didn't feel like she was on parade here, a performer with no backstage to escape to. This was a place a girl could have a whiskey, and not feel eyes crawling all over her.

And to think De had once considered running away to Hollywood.

It was obviously people recognized the tributes here, but whatever unspoken rules stopped them from whispering and tittering was an unspoken rule De was going to take advantage of to hell and back.

Sitting at the bar, she stared into the amber liquid in her glass, considering the light in it, and trying to keep her mind empty. It wouldn't stay that way, not yet, but the alcohol was already starting to do the trick. The tension was seeping out of her, drink by drink, and she was starting to feel like a real human being again.

Standing, she took her drink with her, shooting a grin to anyone who's eyes she caught, and searched out some bar flavored entertainments. Pool, darts...she wasn't feeling too picky. A bit rusty maybe, but not picky.

Roof; night

Tonight De knew drinking wouldn't settle her mind.

Sure, she could call up for a bottle and knock herself out. But this close to the arena she didn't want to pull that shit.

And she wasn't 100% sure it would work anyway. Which was an even worse thought. Insomnia was better than waking up half drunk and disoriented at 4 am.

Then again, with the way things were going, she might be seeing 4 am from the other side. Leaning against the edge of the roof, she tucked the small blanket she'd hooked around her shoulders tighter, working to keep out the cold. The days in the Rockies were getting warmed (and she was 95% sure they were somewhere in the middle of Colorado) but the night were still a tad bit nippy. Luckily she'd ditched Victory's idea of PJs and found a t-shirt and boxers, plus some horribly ugly but stupidly comfortable boot slipper things. Even with all that thought, she could feel the chill edging in around her blanket.

The Capitol wasn't quiet the city that never slept, but she could still see plenty of traces of night life. From her, it was almost possible to pretend she was just back home, in some crowded city.

Almost.

 Who| Initiate & Shepard [Closed.]