Sam Wilson (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sizeofyourbaggage) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2014-10-02 05:51 pm
sizeofyourbaggage) wrote in thecapitol2014-10-02 05:51 pm
[OPEN]
Who| Sam Wilson + open!
What| Trying to figure out wtf is going on after just arriving
Where| Around the Training Center
When| After the arena
Warnings| none yet!
None of this was what Sam'd expected when he woke up on that cot, and was all but dragged out of the room by a group of guards. Not that he had all that much experience with kidnapping or being taken prisoner, but he was pretty sure they didn't normally include a kickass suite and free run of not only pretty much the whole building, but whatever city they were in. And he was definitely sure prisoners usually didn't get handed a map of the damn place and a credit card.
It didn't make him feel at all better about being grabbed, of course. If anything, their determination in treating him like he was supposed to be some kind of honored guest was making him twitchy, almost as twitchy as being told he'd been picked up off the streets to fight to the death like some kind of gladiator.
...it's also making him wary about just how good their security has to be, if they're actually letting prisoners have free range like that. Not enough not to test it, but definitely wary. So he waits a little bit after the guards leave him alone, exploring the room and giving them long enough to actually get gone, if they're really going. Then he's out, intent on seeing just how much leeway he has, and if he can figure out where he really is.
District 5 Suite
His first stop is the rest of the suite they'd dropped him off in, of course. He lingers in the kitchen - not really for food, though he is kind of hungry. At the moment, he's not willing to risk eating anything that might be available, but that doesn't mean he doesn't want to check it out.
Which is why he's opening cabinets and peering in the fridge, eyeing the kitchen knives he'd found and wondering if they'd do anything if he grabbed one to keep on him.
Training Center
He has to admit, the place that gives the building its name isn't bad. In fact, it's pretty damn good, if he'd had a place like this back home, he'd probably have been there every day. It makes sense, he guesses, to give them access to a place like this, if they're supposed to be gearing up to participate in a battle to the death. But it also means their captors are either stupid or really, really good, and he doubts it's the first.
Rooftop
By the time he makes it up to the top of the roof, he's feeling a little overwhelmed. He'd gone up to clear his head a little, get some air, but he's not up there long before he's wondering if it wasn't a bad idea. Just looking out towards the edge makes him miss his wings; he sure as hell could use them right about now.
He stays anyway, sitting on one of the benches to look up at the sky, and keep an eye out for any fellow prisoners - or any of their captors - that might be up there as well.
What| Trying to figure out wtf is going on after just arriving
Where| Around the Training Center
When| After the arena
Warnings| none yet!
None of this was what Sam'd expected when he woke up on that cot, and was all but dragged out of the room by a group of guards. Not that he had all that much experience with kidnapping or being taken prisoner, but he was pretty sure they didn't normally include a kickass suite and free run of not only pretty much the whole building, but whatever city they were in. And he was definitely sure prisoners usually didn't get handed a map of the damn place and a credit card.
It didn't make him feel at all better about being grabbed, of course. If anything, their determination in treating him like he was supposed to be some kind of honored guest was making him twitchy, almost as twitchy as being told he'd been picked up off the streets to fight to the death like some kind of gladiator.
...it's also making him wary about just how good their security has to be, if they're actually letting prisoners have free range like that. Not enough not to test it, but definitely wary. So he waits a little bit after the guards leave him alone, exploring the room and giving them long enough to actually get gone, if they're really going. Then he's out, intent on seeing just how much leeway he has, and if he can figure out where he really is.
District 5 Suite
His first stop is the rest of the suite they'd dropped him off in, of course. He lingers in the kitchen - not really for food, though he is kind of hungry. At the moment, he's not willing to risk eating anything that might be available, but that doesn't mean he doesn't want to check it out.
Which is why he's opening cabinets and peering in the fridge, eyeing the kitchen knives he'd found and wondering if they'd do anything if he grabbed one to keep on him.
Training Center
He has to admit, the place that gives the building its name isn't bad. In fact, it's pretty damn good, if he'd had a place like this back home, he'd probably have been there every day. It makes sense, he guesses, to give them access to a place like this, if they're supposed to be gearing up to participate in a battle to the death. But it also means their captors are either stupid or really, really good, and he doubts it's the first.
Rooftop
By the time he makes it up to the top of the roof, he's feeling a little overwhelmed. He'd gone up to clear his head a little, get some air, but he's not up there long before he's wondering if it wasn't a bad idea. Just looking out towards the edge makes him miss his wings; he sure as hell could use them right about now.
He stays anyway, sitting on one of the benches to look up at the sky, and keep an eye out for any fellow prisoners - or any of their captors - that might be up there as well.
Rooftop hope this is okay?
He watches the other arrive, move toward the edge, looking down. Almost...wistful?
"Pretty long way down, isn't it?" Dennett Norton: conversationalist, strikes again.
totally okay!
Though definitely not as high as he'd gone, it still made him miss it.
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He quirks another smile, stepping a bit back from the edge at that, moving more into easy conversation range. "Hell of a place to hang out, then, but the view is pretty damn good. I haven't been out in it, yet."
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"There's an amusement park if that's your thing." It's clear it isn't his. "Have you--I'm sorry if this is a personal question--have you been in an Arena yet?"
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Sam curls his hands around it, though he doesn't drink yet. "Huh. Haven't been to one of those in a long time." He's not sure he's going to change that now, partly because he isn't certain he wants to see what they're idea of an amusement park is. "Everyone here either has or will at some point, right? But no, I haven't."
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"Good coffee's hard to come by; I make my own." Old man cyberneticist and an in-room coffee maker? It was bound to happen.
"Me neither. It was almost surreal to run across, in a place like this." He'd wandered around in a daze, trying to convince himself it was a hallucination, then realizing that was probably even worse. "Ah, well, I don't know if you're lucky or not. I woke up right into one." He gives a wry smile. "I think I lasted 10 minutes." So, you know, try to beat THAT record.
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At that, he takes a sip from it. "Not bad. I'd follow your example, but I think my districtmates might steal it." He's joking. Well, he's pretty sure he's joking, but he did get warned about it.
"I don't think any of us could really be considered lucky," he comments, giving a slightly wry smile. "I'm guessing you're not a fighter?"
should have hiatused for NYCC ;-; my apologies
He takes the hand gladly, grinning. "And let's hope to keep it that way." The idea of Dennett killing anyone probably doesn't even cross either of their minds.
"I'm a doctor, actually. And you...?"
no worries!!
"Pararescue," he replies, smile brightening a little. "Used to be, anyway, I got out a while ago. Medical doctor, or another kind?"
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"But you understand, I think, with pararescue." Helping people, not fighting them. "Medical, yes. Neurosurgery and cybernetics." He's gone from being sort of a big deal to a nobody here. It was still disorienting.
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His eyebrows raise. "Cybernetics? That's impressive, man. I've seen some of it in action." And used some of it, technically.
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"Have you? One of, uh, the examples of my work is here." Well, way to go, Dennett, turning Alex into a showcase. "I mean, his body. He's still himself, of course." Says the guy who apologized all over CSPAN for taking Alex's personality away from him.
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"Me?" He'll have another sip of coffee, the kind that's a nervous swallow more than a taste. "I just, well, I don't want to run into someone who's killed me. It would be...awkward."
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He stills a little at the answer. That... makes sense. It's not something Sam's really thought about, mostly because he's been trying not to think a lot about what he's going to do, when his turn in the arena comes. "You know who they are?"