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.
no subject
"Oh good, nice to know there's still some surprise. I'd hate to have to worry about getting complacent like that."
He's done anger already, and denial isn't going to help him in the long run. Or maybe he's still in it and he's just too deep to see it, that's always a possibility.
"Yeah, I drink coffee. I'd love one." He starts fishing around for a mug. "As long as no one's name is on it, right? I've been warned about taking labelled foods."
no subject
Her own mug has some cutesy girl power saying on it, something that doesn't seem to match her general demeanor lately but might fit the attitude she's trying to project. As the coffee starts to finish, she dumps no less than five sugar cubes into it.
"Believe me, living on this floor's kind of a riot."
no subject
There isn't a label on the milk he finds in the fridge, though, so he feels all rights pouring a bit in his mug.
"How many of us on are this floor?"
no subject
Venus counts on her fingers. "Seven Tributes and two Mentors, plus the staff in the Stylist's quarters but they have their own living room and they don't come out unless they need to froof us up. Hold on, I'll give you the lowdown."
(She puts a minimal amount of coffee in the cup, just enough to make sludge of all the sugar cubes, and then fills the rest with milk.)
She steps away from the counter a bit so she can point down the halls at each door. "There's Jane Shepard, grade-A jackass, possibly genocidal, holds her liquor way better than me, with the door that's getting pranked all the time. You met The Initiate, he's the clown guy with no indoor voice. Diana Ladris, teenager who's got some kind of binge-eating issue, looks like a supermodel, possibly a kleptomaniac, keeps to herself. Alex Murphy, cyborg police officer, has a wife on the tenth floor. If he comes out of that room, I gotta skedaddle, I'm pretty sure he still wants to 'pacify' me.
"Those two rooms at the end are for our Mentors, Azula and Hans. Hans isn't very hands-on, but Azula just wants us to win and will do right by you in the Arena, even if she gave me a split lip once. And then there's my room, and next to that is Kankri Vantas, and if you ever hurt him I'll make sure your body's never found."
It's a sincere threat - not because Sam looks like the type to hurt a meek teenager, but because Venus feels so strongly about keeping the kid safe. He's all she has these days.
"And you're in that room there, which is a little bigger than the rest of ours because the last person in it was a Victor for a hot second, until he sassed the Capitol and they put him back in the Arena."
no subject
Even if he has to shake his head at what she calls coffee.
He listens as she points out each room and talks about the residents, filing away her impressions for the people he hasn't met and comparing hers to his for the ones he has. Just over half, if he includes the Mentors, and so far - yeah, he can see all of that.
Especially on the Mentors, it's good to know his impression if them was pretty accurate. Or at least on the same page as hers, and it seems like she's been here awhile.
"I've met Kankri. Made French toast the first day I got here." He's not looking to hurt him. Not looking to hurt anyone, actually, and he's sticking to that.
"How'd he sass them?"
no subject
"Ran his mouth a few too many times and then was part of that jailbreak a few weeks back. He got one of these," she gestures to the burn on her face. "A lot of us did. Traitor marks. And then I guess they got tired of his shit so they let him die after the last Arena."
Her voice chokes up a bit, and she closes her eyes to compose herself for a second. Taking a sip of coffee buys herself a few seconds to recuperate. "Sorry. He and I were...close for a little while. People in general here, you know, the hottest flames forging the tightest bonds and all that. You'd think with all the death we'd learn better than to all get friendly."
no subject
Sam leans against the counter, taking a sip of his coffee and nodding. "Heard about that. Some of my friends were involved, apparently." Part of him feels guilty, that he wasn't there to back them up - not that he could have done anything to make a difference, but doesn't mean it doesn't feel that way.
When her eyes close, he looks down, staring into his own coffee cup as he drinks from it, to give her a minute. He glances back up when she starts talking again, shrugging one shoulder. "Nothing to apologize for." Sam's starting to get why she'd been avoiding him for awhile. Can't be easy, having someone new show up and take over his room like that. "Sometimes, that just makes people want to get friendly more."
no subject
She takes a drink of her caffeinated syrup and alternates with the popsicle. It's turning her lips dark red. "So, you got friends here already? That's good. What's your story, who are they, spill some names."
It sounds like, and is, good-natured chatter, not predatory probing.
no subject
Sam chuckles a little at the questioning, but doesn't see the need to hold back. It's not like anyone who was watching him wouldn't figure out who his friends are. "Steve Rogers, James Barnes. I knew them before we got here."
Barnes isn't technically his friend, but Sam'd offered friendship, and he's planning on working towards it, so he might as well claim it.
no subject
"I ain't met them yet. From what I've seen, they're good people. A little naive, I guess. Steve gave a speech at the beginning of the last Arena that got a bunch of people blown to hell, but that wasn't his fault."
no subject
That... sounds like Steve. Not getting people blown up, but definitely the speech thing, inspiring people to action. He's assuming the Capitol liked Steve's speeches about as much as Hydra did. "They're good people," he agrees, not touching the speech thing. He'll ask Steve about it later. "In my humble opinion, anyway."
no subject
Venus has had experience with a lot of them.
"Good people don't last long here." She casts another look back at the hallway, and that smile falls. "Either they die or they get, you know. Twisted. Steve doesn't seem like the kind of person to twist, though."
no subject
He takes a long sip of his coffee as he thinks that over, his own expression turning more serious as well.
"No. He isn't. Steve's been through a lot, but none of it's managed to twist him yet." He's hurting, Sam could tell that from the first time he met the guy, but if Sam's honest, he doesn't think anything could end up twisting Steve into something other than a good guy. It's probably pretty obvious, from his tone and expression, that Sam believes in him a hell of a lot, but he doesn't bother trying to hide it.
no subject
And she has plenty of guilt to carry around from that, for just taking orders and paychecks and not asking questions. It wasn't even that she trusted her agent to make the moral calls; it was that she didn't, back then, care much about ethics, about anything but getting a short high in her life before she crashed it into a wall.
She nods. She knows about Captain America. His reputation precedes him.
"Can you believe it, but sometimes I feel like the only one who's got untwisted here."
no subject
Televized mercenary does sound a hell of a lot worse than celebrity superheroine, but it's pretty obvious she knows that.
"I learned a while back not to be surprised at what works to untwist people." Sam's being honest, there, he's even known guys who went back into things way before they were ready and somehow ended up less twisted than ever. "Can I ask what it is about here, that worked for you?"
no subject
"I met people, I guess. My life before I got here was a bit...complicated." Eventually he'll probably find out, either from old footage or the whispers that follow her around. The Capitol has footage of Venus killing her family, no wonder she's a mess. "I was already in a constant combat situation before I got here, and then I grew a heart or something. Like the Grinch. Lub dub."
She makes a 'pitter patter' gesture over her chest.
no subject
She's far from the first person with obvious scarring or very visible injuries he's talked to. Most of the time it'd felt like they were waiting, for him to stare or pointedly not stare, to ask or try to politely dance around asking. The longer he just talked to them like everyone else, usually the more relaxed they got.
Of course, there were always some who got pissed at him, like he was purposefully ignoring it or saying what'd happened didn't matter, but he'd learned to try to handle those as they came. So far, it doesn't seem like Venus was going to be one of them.
He nods as she explains, taking another drink of his coffee. "Makes sense. Some people never figure out how to let others in, they think they've got to do all their untwisting on their own, so hey. Sounds like you're ahead of things to me." Then he gives another grin. "I've got to ask, though, original Grinch or that god awful remake? Cause I'm not normally the type to judge, but I might have to make an exception there."
no subject
"Oh, the original, for sure. I don't think I ever saw the remake, actually. I was a bit indisposed when it came out and, you know. A teenager. Trying to be cool sneaking in to see Saw and shit like that." At least, that's what she imagines she'd have been doing had she had a social life. Even if she had had friends or money to go see movies with, she doubts she'd have wanted to see Jim Carrey in a fur suit.
no subject
But she'd told him hers, so he follows that with a slight shrug. "Honestly, I'm a little between official job titles at the moment. I'm a solider, and a counselor, and a friend. That's good enough for me."
Sam gives a satisfied nod at that, chuckling a little. "Good answer. I wish I hadn't seen it, man, that's two hours of my life I can't get back."
no subject
She imagines he's a big deal in whatever timeline he ends up in. Some people are just like that.
She laughs. "As bad as that is, I'll bet I've starred in worse. You should see some of the advertisements I did as a teenager. Cheesy enough to give you cholesterol problems." Again with the pitter-patter gesture, only this time she squeezes her hand into her fist as if pantomiming her heart seizing up.
no subject
Once he met him, Sam thinks it would've been hard not seeing him as a fellow soldier anyway, teasing or no.
He chuckles a little. "But did you make a travesty out of a beloved classic? Cheesy's one thing, but that's the real test there."
no subject
She chuckles back. "Well, I once recorded a demo of a club dance version of Aretha's 'Respect'. Does that count?"
no subject
And Sam'd thought it was funny, so it'd turned out being a point in his favor.
"Nah, I can't make a decision like that without hearing it. You're going to have to lay a little of it on me, sometime." His smile's obviously teasing, though.
no subject
She shrugs, all self-deprecating smiles.
"Sometime. You'll probably hear plenty of me mangling classic songs in the shower. Sound carries in this suite."
no subject
"Does it? In that case, I better apologize in advance for my own shower-time mangling."
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