We'll just march to some new place and somebody else will die

[fuckitall]

Who| Nick and OTA
What| Newly arrived Nick gathers his bearings...or tries to?
Where| Bar & rooftop of the Training Center
When| 10/21, afternoon?
Warnings/Notes| Spoilers for up to Amid the Ruins (episode 4).



Bar

[Nick didn't appreciate having rules imposed on him the moment he woke up here. The barrage of so much information was beyond overwhelming but never had he felt more frustrated at still feeling as if he had no idea what the hell was going on. The sight of a bed was comforting, but he couldn't bring himself to sleep despite knowing how deprived he had been.
He made a beeline for the bar as soon as he heard that such amenities were free. He had to see it to believe it because the world didn't work like that and it never had.

A serving of fries was all it took for him to remember how fucking hungry he initially was. Two burgers and two very free whiskeys later, he finds himself ready for a third helping. Knowing the fact that his freedom was more or less traded for all this makes him order another glass. It's stupid, but he needs to forget even for just a little while. Forget this place; forget the last moment he recalled being alive before he felt that lurker's teeth sink into his neck.

He downs the whiskey in one go, letting its warmth settle into him as he stares at the empty glass.]

Rooftop

[He hasn't seen a city, let alone any form of civilization, in a while. A very small part of him takes comfort in that he doesn't have to worry about the possibility of lurkers bursting in at any minute. But the rest of him knows that his experience of his place so far goes to show how much more dangerous the living are as opposed to the dead. In a way, this isn't much different from living under Carver's control; there's food, shelter - and while there aren't any lurkers, they're still fighting for their lives. There's some form of safety but their lives are still at risk. And this time, it's for the enjoyment of others like some seasonal baseball game.

There's always a catch with these things. That thought alone makes him tick.

He pulls his sleeve back to look at the watch Pete gave him and remembers his late uncle's words.

"...nobody in this world is ever gonna give a god damn whether you like something or not."]

Ain't that the truth... [He pauses, as if expecting a response.] Especially right now. [He leans back against his chair and looks over at the city, watch still ticking.]

Comments

[fuckitall]

[Nick looks up from his watch to see the girl, taking note of her wings and given what he's experienced of Panem's fashion, he's not as surprised as he initially would have been otherwise. He leans forward to read her message and looks up at her with his brows raised.]

Uh, I know of it but can't say I remember the times exactly.

[He mostly remembers thinking what bullshit it is for there to be a curfew at all. The talk of time has him go back to looking at the watch again.] What happens if you break it? [He snorts.] They kill you or what?

[reassures]

[Ha, ha. That gets a very slight, mildly awkward smile out of her. It's a good question, given that the goal of this place seems to be to kill them all repeatedly anyway.

Nill writes another response that she holds up for him to see again.]

it's from 11pm to 7am.
I don't know.
they might make you a avox.

[fuckitall]

[He wonders why she doesn't just talk if she can understand him, but it could be the matter of her not being able to or something. He's not going to ask though - they're already communicating after all.]

Dunno what the hell that is. [What could be worse than dying and coming back as a flesh eating lurker?]

[reassures]

[That explains a lot. No one's told him about the avoxes. Nill looks around, but there aren't any out right now, which could make things difficult to explain.]

have you seen the people who act like servants?
they clean up the suites.

[fuckitall]

[Nick has seen them although he never gave it much thought. He assumed they were just people being paid to do a job. Now that he realizes that they're basically facing punishment, he can't help but scowl at the ground.]

Assholes. [He looks up at her.] Not the servants, the folks that run this place. [It's just about the nicest thing he's ever said about them too.]

[reassures]

[Nill understands, and she nods her agreement, though she hopes that anyone watching will just take it as understanding. She's been very careful up until this point to present a relatively nonthreatening demeanor and attitude since she got here.]

their voices are taken, and they do almost anything you ask them to.
a lot is taken from them.

[fuckitall]

What about you? [He finally asks, knowing that talking about the avoxes would just put him in a worse mood. It's not a place he'd want to be in, let alone anyone else.]

[reassures]

[She pauses, but it's less about not wanting to talk about something and more that she's not totally sure what he's asking. The safe assumption is her voice. That's usually what people ask, anyway.]

I'm mute.

[fuckitall]

Yeah, duh. [He feels stupid for even asking, despite the look on his face probably saying otherwise. His tone expresses concern though, for all the good it probably does for either of them.]

I mean...not 'cause of them is it?

[reassures]

[Oh. That assumption. A few people have made it, or at least been worried about it. Trying to be reassuring, she gives him a small smile and shakes her head.]

thank you for worrying.
they did not take my voice.

[fuckitall]

That’s good to know. [She doesn’t need to elaborate more than she wants to there.]

Thanks for remindin' me about the curfew. [He returns her small smile with his own. Looks can be deceiving but she doesn’t strike Nick as a troublemaker. Hell, between the two of them he’d be more likely to get punished for acting out – although that'll involve some level of drunken stupidity he’s not willing to take on just yet.]

So how long have you’ve been here?

[reassures]

[If Nill makes any trouble it's all very selective. She certainly hasn't been in the kind of environment that Nick has, so she's a little more careful than he might be. She probably wouldn't, if she came from where he did.]

not long. I haven't been in a arena yet.
did you just get here?

[fuckitall]

It's good that you haven't. [As good as it gets, anyway. And he'd hate to see her there.]

Yeah. Still tryin' to get used to it. [He rolls his eyes at that.] I mean, I don't want to. But fuck.

[reassures]

no one does.
it's better if you do.
it's a lot harder if you don't.

[It's a lot easier to start breaking if you can't adapt to your environment. Especially in a place where you potentially can't trust anyone you look at, but you won't know it until they try to kill you. Or you try to kill them.]

you know if Nick was a fan of dad jokes he should've said this earlier: "Hi mute, I'm Nick."

[fuckitall]

[Nick looks at her as if he's had this conversation before. He has, actually - many times with Pete and even more with himself. Whether it's dealing with lurkers trying to eat you or blood sport entertainment, either one is a thing that Nick's just gonna have to get "used to".]

Yeah. [Nick answers softly, looking down at his watch.] You're right. [Now that's another thing he wishes he could tell Pete. He'd give almost anything to be able to see him again.

He even misses those times (every time) his uncle would waltz in with his apparent wisdom and giving Nick an earful worth two lifetimes. It was something Nick never learned to appreciate until it was too late.

He just barely catches himself from letting the tears fall, managing to blink them away instead as he looks back up at her.]

Sorry. Kinda wandered off there. [Feeling awkward, he folds his arms to keep himself from wanting to bite at his nails - a terrible habit he has.]

I'm Nick by the way. You?

TRAGIC MISSED OPPORTUNITIES

[reassures]

[Usually Nill understands it when she tells someone something and people seem to be upset by it, especially when in places like this. Sometimes very slight things can be enough to inspire tears in others, that final grain of sand before the glass begins to crack.

This time she has no idea what did it. But it must mean something, because suddenly Nick looks like he might cry. He doesn't, but the look is still there, something lingering around his eyes. She doesn't address it. Instead she just offers a small, reassuring smile. It's fine. She doesn't mind. Wouldn't mind even if he actually had cried.]

I'm Nill. it's nice to meet you.
how do you spell your name?

[fuckitall]

[It had only been less than two weeks since his uncle's death and Nick himself has been alive longer than a bite victim should be. Given his own circumstance, he feels like a wandering ghost, not knowing where to go next...not that he has much of a choice here.

But Nill doesn't need to know all this. He's still trying to take this all in himself.]

It's N-I-C-K. [He'd remark how easy it is to spell, but his experience with baristas may indicate otherwise.] Got a dumb story behind that if you wanna hear.

[reassures]

[Hey man, how many names can you be sure of the spelling on when there are like fifty versions of Earth floating around? Especially when one of them seems to be full of zombies.

Stories behind names, however, are not something that she's had experience with before. Instead of writing anything this time Nill nods her head, smile brightening slightly. Her wings shift a little against her back, before she holds up a hand and gives him a thumbs up. Yes please.]

I am sorry

[fuckitall]

[Nick responds to that with a smile and closes his eyes for a moment, as if to recall the memory itself before opening them again to start.]

I was at the usual coffee place with my uncle. [Starbucks, in fact – but he doesn’t name it. His experience in Panem so far shows that not everyone knows about that famous business with locations on practically every street corner back home] They write your name on your cup to call out your order when it’s ready. [And this is where he’s starting to doubt the humor of it all.] Most of the time, for some god damn reason they’d spell it N-I-C, so one time, I decided to tell them, “It’s Nick with a K.”

Five minutes later, the barista yells out [he then manages the strongest southern accent he can, enough to probably have Luke elbow him hard if he was here to listen] “I got’a latte for KICK! Kick, grande latte right ‘ere!” [He chokes back a laugh when he stops, slowly resigning to a small, sad smile. He remembered being embarrassed, blood boiling at knowing that he was being stared at by other customers.]

My uncle wouldn't stop laughing even after we got to the car. I remember I yelled at him to stop too. [He even thought Pete told them ahead of time to mess with him.] I wish I hadn't. [He says that with an ounce of regret. Pete had a sense of humor but Nick rarely saw that unless it was at his own expense.] It was early and I was moody.

And stupid. Very fucking stupid. [He waits for Nill's reaction, not really expecting much.] Probably not as funny as you hoped but. [He shrugs, feeling awkward again.]

no that was beautiful

[reassures]

[The most confusing part of the story so far is why on earth the baristas went for N-I-C instead of N-I-K, but that's just Nill's experience. Nick's concern over the name seems completely justified.

But she listens intently, obviously curious, and she actually giggles a little at first, until he gets to the end of the funny accent and she's actually laughing. Which, you know. Mute. But it's obvious in the way her wings shake with it, and her general expression.

It's such a ridiculous story. The accent is her favorite part, actually, because she's never heard anything like it before, but he sounds so enthusiastic when he does the imitation...! It's probably not funny to her for the reasons it is to Nick, but she liked it anyway.

Still giggling a little, Nill gives him a thumbs up.]

:'D

[fuckitall]

[The awkward feeling slowly disappears at the sight of her laughter. Nick's been told he's good at impressions before (although not by the folks he's done impressions of) and occasionally utilizes it for rare moments like these. He had a feel drinks earlier but he smiles back without being under any influence but hers, even chuckling a little at the end. He feels lighter now, as opposed to lightheaded.]

Thanks for listenin' to all that. So what brings you up here? [He needed to let that out, and hopes that he's not keeping her from carrying on with her own business.]

[reassures]

[After she's stopped laughing, her expression turns a little sheepish. The dress she's wearing has pockets on it, which is fantastic, and she reaches into one and pulls out the pack of cigarettes she'd had out earlier, shaking it a little to make the few still in it bounce around a bit. It's about the only vice she really indulges in these days, but it's not one everyone is all that fond of, and Nill knows it.]

[fuckitall]

Huh. Been a while since I had one those. [It's so much a request for a stick as it was just a simple remark. Pete was more of the smoker in the family than he was, but he would occasionally buy himself a box for those times he didn't feel like drinking booze.] You come up here to do this often? [He never pegged her to be a smoker, but it doesn't bother him in the slightest. With the way things are? There are worse ways to cope.]

[reassures]

[Regardless of the intent, Nill smiles and fishes one of the cigarettes out, passing it to him before she pulls out her lighter and passes him that too. She'll probably have one as well, but she's gotta write, so he might as well go first.]

more often at night.
the view is really nice.

not so much* herp derp typo

[fuckitall]

[Nick hesitates at the offer, mostly because he feels like he just solicited her for one. He sees that smile of hers as a reassuring one though and decides to light himself one, quietly thanking her as he does. He takes a puff and coughs from having not doing this in so long, but the second one is smooth. The image of his uncle smoking with a newspaper in his hands comes to mind and Nick lets it linger.]

It is, yeah. [When you're not paying too hard attention to the barrier anyway, he'd say but doesn't. He holds out the lighter to Nill with his thumb over the switch. Her turn.]