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
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."
no subject
She nods. "Just don't mangle anything before four a.m. and we should all be fine."
no subject
He nods back at that, giving a little grin. "Yes, ma'am." They don't have anything to worry about, there. Sam doesn't shower until after his morning work out, and that'll put him well past four a.m. Though he'll probably have to start thinking about being quieter leaving.
no subject
Her smile is entirely genuine now.