thecapitol | [OPEN]

Entry tags:

[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.

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Sam blanches at that. It shouldn't surprise him, after everything else he's heard about the Capitol and the arena. And it doesn't, not really, but that doesn't make the thought any less distasteful.

His lack of immediate response doesn't seem to matter much, though, and when he realizes that Albert's zoned out a little on him, he doesn't bother giving one. Instead, he looks over the flowers, watching Albert out of the corner of his eye, just in case this is going to get worse than a little zoning.

When Albert apologizes, Sam quirks a small smile, shaking his head. "It happens, man, nothing to apologize for." He's quiet for a moment, then ventures, "I'm guessing just because you know someone might come back, doesn't make it a lot easier to watch them go."

Sam's comment earns a startled look from Albert, which quickly settles into a wane smile, barely reaching his eyes and where it does it carries a self-deprecating quality. "You're perceptive."

He lets out a soft breath, looking to the flowers again. They're just flowers. He starts to take the arrangement apart carefully. "No, it's not. Not the first time, or any time after. Especially not when it's you that sends them off."

He's not sure why he added that last part, why it's so easy to let it slip out to the brand new Tribute. True the entirety of Panem saw it, this is televised after all, but he hasn't talked about it since it happened. Not even with Jet. So then why Sam?

The man across from him isn't fresh-faced as the other newly reaped, he's got the same baring about him as some of those he'd known in the GSG-9, as Jet when Albert had seen him for the first time after so long, as Steve. He's a soldier, then, Albert hazards an internal guess. Not just having fought, but actually having served. It's an important distinction, that, serving a cause versus mere fighting, but there's something else about Sam Albert can't put his finger on. Something at ease even despite the situation they find themselves in.

It's as if he's never met anyone well adjusted before.

"You sound as if you have experience with loss."

Sam smiles back, tinged with a hint of self-deprecation of his own, as he gives a half shrug of agreement. He's not going to deny it, although most of the times it feels like it isn't so much perception as just having gone through similar things.

He leans against the table as he watches Albert taking the flowers apart, letting out a breath of his own at that last bit. Yeah, he knows a little bit about what that feels like. Not in a battle for the death, sure, but still. "You might know that you did what you had to, that there wasn't anything you could've done different, but that's logic. Guilt, regret, all that fun stuff, they don't always play nice with logic."

Then he quirks a small smile, nodding. "I was Pararescue, back home. I've seen my share of people go." It'd be easy enough, to leave it at that, but Sam's used to sharing this kind of thing with strangers. Well, with strangers who he's starting to have a feel for, anyway, who he has this in common with. "My wingman, during my last tour."

He nods, clearly comprehending. "I'm sorry to hear that, my condolences. It's a terrible thing to have to watch."

Albert knows first hand, and not from the Arena. He was left standing by while Jet flew off, while Joe defeated one of the greatest evils known to humankind. Left on Earth to simply watch while his close friend and the man he loves fell through the atmosphere like so much stardust.

Twice.

Frankly it's a miracle that Jet was even alive to be brought here to Panum, but such were their lives as cyborgs. Now, here, they're flesh and blood and even though they continually are revived, he still feels that they're even more fragile than before.

"Pararescue, though. For the United States Air Force? I was German special ops myself, though more a museum piece than any field work. I can't say I missed the field." He didn't, not really. He would take up the mantle of cyborg soldier readily enough when Gilmore called them - those times when they were the only ones who could do the job - but in general he was more content to stay out of action. He'd fought and killed too much already.

He tilts his head in acknowledgement of the apology, giving a little smile. "Yeah, it is." It's obvious that Albert knows exactly how that feels, and Sam doesn't think he really has to say anything else there.

Sometimes it's nice, just to sit in silence, and know that someone gets it. It's not like dwelling on what'd happened, although of course, Sam's done his fair share of that, it's just - understanding, he guesses.

His eyebrows raise a little when he hears special ops. "US Air Force, yeah, though I did a little bit of special ops myself. What kind of museum piece are we talking about?" Sam hears 'special ops' and 'museum piece' and his mind can't help but go to something like Captain America or the EXO-7.

"The kind that's very old, antique by most standards." He smiles a little, still hurting from his thoughts before but trying to move past it. "I was with GSG-9."

He can't say the full name, it's in German and so the chip would translate it oddly, but it should be enough that Sam would know the group to be similar to US SWAT in terms of training and very active fighting terrorism domestically. Though Albert was part of the outfit more because of the 'special weapons and tactics' field of work, given he'd been a walking cybernetic arsenal of Cold War tech at the time, but that's not exactly something you tell someone on your first meeting.

"Not so upstanding as pararescue, either. I was mostly behind a desk as staff captain, teaching newer operatives and shuffling papers the majors and higher didn't want to deal with." There's a shrug that accompanies that. He never minded not seeing action with the German military. If anything, it left him open to come when Gilmore called for more pressing global missions in secret.

"What sort of special ops? If you can tell me. I understand if not." Though withholding that could be just as telling.

That's not doing anything to get rid of the association with Captain America. Well, the antique comment, anyway, though maybe even the second part, considering Steve's former involvement with SHIELD.

"Equipment testing, mostly. They always some poor guy to try out the experimental stuff." Still, he's grinning a little as he says it, and it's obvious he's none too upset about being that guy.

It's technically true, if a little vague, but the details of the EXO-7 aren't something he just gives away. ...well. To people who aren't Steve or Natasha, but that'd been extenuating circumstances.

Maybe it shouldn't. Albert has quite a bit in common with Steve, right down to being frozen for decades, but as there's no reason to share that, he's not going to. "You sound like you enjoyed your work."

Someone else and Albert might have been uneasy with that fact, but Sam doesn't seem like the type of person to enjoy weapons testing for the sake of the pain they can inflict. Unless he's a sociopath; it's not like Albert knows for certain. He'd prefer to act on the assumption that the other man is as he appears, though.

"Yeah, I did," Sam agrees, shrugging slightly. There was a lot of it that wasn't enjoyable, and the way things'd ended - but he's already gone into that as much as he wants to. "We did a lot of good work."

Plus, you know, he had wings. Kind of hard not to enjoy flying. While it lasted, anyway.

"But that was a few years ago. I'm mostly retired, now."

"Good for you. Men in our line of work often don't get that luxury." Not while still being able-bodied, at any rate. He by no means intends to disparage those who don't make it, least of all Sam's partner, but if Sam is also a veteran, then he'll know that by rote. There's a certain unspoken language there that Albert, despite never having the benefit of a veteran's office or the like, has discovered for himself exists between soldiers.

"It's difficult to keep busy, though, isn't it?"

He tilts his head slightly in acknowledgement of that, giving a humor-less smile. No, they didn't. In his experience, it made some of the ones who did feel even more guilty - himself included, at one point. But he's mostly past that now.

"It was, yeah," he replies. "But I started working at the VA, and that kept me plenty busy."

And then Captain America had chased him down on a morning run, and he'd found himself way more than busy.

"Really?" The more he hears about Sam, the more he has to wonder if there's anything about him that's unsavory at all. He has the same sort of calm around him that Steve does but without the sadness. It's such a novel thing to meet someone so well adjusted.

"That's also a noble thing, to help others who have been through similar." He wonders to himself if that means Sam could help him, at least be someone to talk to, but as usual he shuts that thought down. First, they've just met and that's horribly rude to offer baggage to an acquaintance. Second, like most, he won't know what to do with Albert having been a cyborg and his issues surrounding that. How could he? Those sorts of things don't happen to normal people and Albert would be the last person who'd want to burst the bubble.

Sam's not sure he'd use the word noble, but he doesn't dispute it, either. "I just know how important it can be, having someone on your side." To not be alone, even if it'd taken a little while for him to get to that point, back when he'd first needed it.

"I like listening to people, anyway. Wouldn't know what to do with myself, otherwise." He pauses for only a moment, before offering, "You ever want to talk, man, I'll listen."

He doesn't expect Albert to take him up on it, at least not right away, but Sam'll make the offer anyway.

"I appreciate that." He smiles a little, but it's clear that while he may appreciate the gesture, he has no intention of taking Sam up on it at all. It's one thing to have a positive first impression and another entirely to be that open with someone you've just met.

No, he'll keep his neuroses to himself for the time being.

Albert finishes gathering his flowers and wraps the stems carefully in a bit of paper he'd set to the side. Flora tucked under his arm safely, he offers a handshake to Sam as a goodbye. "I should be going, but it's been good meeting you. Hopefully we'll run into each other again before the Arena."

For all he's cutting and running, Albert does sincerely hope to speak with Sam again, maybe get a better measure of the man and see if he really is as genuine as he seems.

Sam smiles back, despite knowing exactly what kind of answer that is. He's gotten it before, dozens of times. Sometimes people changed their minds - hell, it'd happened with Steve, part of Sam had been sure the end of their first meeting was a polite 'no thank you' - and sometimes they didn't.

Either way, Sam's hoping to talk to Albert again. He likes the guy, and he's not sure how much of that he's going to find, around here.

"Same here, man, to all of the above," he replies, his handshake firm, but friendly. "And congrats again, on the wedding."

"Thank you," his smile, though not fake just a little strained before that, shines more genuine at Sam's congratulations. The wedding makes him truly happy and so far he's succeeded in keeping anything from spoiling that happiness.

Goodbyes exchanged, Albert lets go of Sam's hand and heads for the door with quite a lot to think about.

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and scene~