[open]

[rumlow]

WHO| Rumlow. And open.
WHAT| Taking in the lay of the land.
WHEN| Day after his arrival.
WHERE| Tribute Common Area
WARNINGS| None yet. The day is young.



Whiskey sounded like a good first step.

The people around here didn't skimp on quality, that's for damn sure. He got service with a smile, and a glass of the top-shelf stuff, two fingers, neat. No charge, they said, and he didn't question it for a second, draining the clear amber liquid a swig at a time.

These were the sort of accommodations the one percent dreamed of, back home. Kind of reminded him of Dubai, if Lady Gaga had taken over the fashion industry. With a privately amused snort Rumlow took it all in, the people wandering by, the lush decor and the swanky bars, the prestige that came with being a 'tribute'. As far as kidnapping and imprisonment went, they could definitely do worse for cells. He'd give them that much.

All he had to do in return is participate in these...games, and crack a few skulls along the way. It all seemed a little too simple, too straightforward. Someone around here had to have the real score. He supposed he could return to his floor -- District 6, they'd said -- and investigate matters from those supposedly on his own team.

One more drink, maybe.

Comments

[tricksandmischief]

Loki had been assigned to District 7, but of course he was looking around in many other places and this time of day found him in the Common Area. His eyes scanned the area for any familiar faces then started sizing up any strangers.

He glanced to the man who was drinking and wandered closer.

[yourmove]

Now that he's finally a Peacekeeper, Alex makes his rounds on his first beat - they've given him the "milk run" that frankly, he's overqualified for because it consists of checking the Tribute Center for signs of vandalism, asking certain Tributes to turn their music down to acceptable levels and this. The Tributes who choose to indulge in alcohol and the other substances made legal in the Capitol. He intends to carry out his duties and report back after he's compiled a list of factually based reasons why he should be placed in a more...aggressive position that could better use his skill set.

Alex doesn't sneak up on Rumlow. It's physically not possible with all the noise he makes when he walks - even if it was, he wouldn't see the point because there's nothing more accessible than the highly visible front door approach.

"Please drink responsibly, Mr. Rumlow," Alex pauses, his head tilting down with a gentle whirr of servos. His HUD lights up with the man's biometrics, measuring his blood alcohol content - it pings back acceptable so long as he doesn't operate heavy machinery. "Is there any service I can provide you while I'm here?"

[tookthewheel]

It shouldn't as much of a surprise at it is.

The once Asset, now going by the reclaimed name of Bucky Barnes, stops in his tracks when he see's the man drinking in one of the seats in the lobby. It takes him a moment to positively identify him with the gut feeling that the guy is HYDRA hitting him before he can put a name to the face. Brock Rumlow, STRIKE team leader.

Bucky's hands tighten into fists in the pockets of his jacket. A quick mental check assures him that the kitchen knife he plucked from the cutlery drawer in District 1 is still hidden in his left sleeve as he advances forwards with no real plan in mind, it's like he's on autopilot suddenly and he'll only know what he's going to do when he gets there.

In the months he's been here not much has physically changed about the Asset (dying and being reset twice will do that) but Brock might notice that his left cheek is sporting a messy and ugly brand on it, a wound that hasn't healed the way it should have.

[reassures]

Something about the guy seems a little off. It's the first thing Nill notices after she spots him - something in the air around him, or maybe the way he holds himself. If asked she wouldn't be able to pinpoint exactly what the problem was, only that he was off, and usually when people seemed off to Nill she was right about them.

But it had been a long time since she last needed to rely on that particular skill, and she doubts its ability to still be accurate. Not completely, but enough so that when she approaches the guy there's a small smile on her face. When you watch people as much as Nill does you tend to notice when new people show up, and while she likes people here, they tend to lack in the informing newbies department.

There's already a message written on her notepad, which she holds up for him to see after she takes a seat.

hello. my name is Nill. I'm in district 9.
did they tell you about curfew?

[atoner]

Natasha doesn't do a ton of drinking except for the occasional casual beer. But she does frequent bars, sometimes. They're a good setting - lots of crowded people, loud music. Good places to watch people unnoticed. Good places to have conversations or pass off information.

When she spots Rumlow over by the bar, it's almost like one great cosmic joke. Like Pierce is going to show up right on his heels, despite being dead. The Capitol is pretty much a HYDRA wet dream, what with the constant ( and impressive ) surveillance and the near-total control they force upon some of their citizens.

For now.

She leans against the bar counter, arms crossed and her expression surveying.

[celebrityskinned]

Venus doesn't know who she's sitting down next to, only that he's new. She knows everyone's face from the last Arenas, has them imprinted in her memory as if from far away, knows soon enough her mind will hold them in three-dimensional form as she meets them in person.

She settles on the barstool, folding her legs over each other so her feet in their couture heels dangle like Christmas lights. She pushes her sunglasses up to be a headband; with them not hiding most of her face, the ugly scar over a third of it is all too evident.

"Bartender, you got anything virgin?" She rests her elbows on the counter before turning to Rumlow.

"Hi. New blood?" She pauses, then winces. "Sorry, that's probably a bit of a gruesome term here."

[sizeofyourbaggage]

Sam makes it a policy not to drink much while he's here - that ridiculous sham of a slumber party aside - but he also doesn't stay in one place much during the day. And he's still trying to make a decent impression here, when he thinks to put forth the effort, which means which means a little mingling in bars and common areas sometimes.

Today, though, he spots a familiar face. One of the last people he thought he'd see again, given the way Sam'd left the guy, but he's already learned that time doesn't work right here.

He can't stop the instinctive sneer when he first sees him, because oh fuck this asshole, but it's gone by the time Sam heads over.

"Must really be desparate for Tributes, if they're dragging the bottom of the barrel," he comments conversationally as he slides into a seat at the bar, leaving an empty one between them.

[actually112]

Some people are dressed up nice and fancy. Not this kid. He's in a loose-fitting t-shirt and pants; the shirt feels weird enough, but they don't have many robes around here, so he has to wear what he can get. Oh, and he's bald and has arrow tattoos on his head, arms, and legs. So overall, looking a little out of place.

He's drinking papaya juice at the bar, swinging his legs on the stool and looking around at the people with bright eyes and hands that are busy playing with the napkins. As he sips on a straw, he folds the napkins into flowers, birds, little boxes that eventually collapse on themselves because napkins aren't a good building material... and then he notices Rumlow. While Aang doesn't know every tribute by name, he does know their faces, and this is a new face.

New faces should be greeted kindly, especially considering how awful it is to come here so suddenly.

Aang folds a napkin into a little paper airplane (or a paper glider, as he would call it) and throws it gently towards the new person with a playful smile.

[arrogantalloy]

Tony sidles up to the bar, right next to Rumlow and completely oblivious to who he's standing next to as he gestures for the bartender with his hand that has a large cuff on it, he's all professional grins and smiles to the man, asking for his usual.

As the bartender wanders off to sort out said usual, Tony glances at the man next to him, raising his eyebrows and head slightly in that causal 'hey' kind of way that people who have noticed each other do but don't really expect anything to come of it. When the man returns he places the drink down in front of Tony, it looks like it should be an appletini, it even has an apple wedge in it. That being said it's not actually alcoholic at all.

He takes a drink and seems pleased with what he's got, then turns and leans against the bar to watch what's happening.

"So. How are you finding it so far?"

Let's remember, Tony's not a stupid man. He might not know who the man is he's talking to, but he knows that the man is a tribute, his outfit is no where near the levels of over the top of those who live and breath capitol. He is also no one Tony recognises, and while he hasn't met every tribute, he's at least seen their faces on the screen come arena time, also just because he doesn't look like he's about to throw up on himself just means the guy isn't afraid to start a fight at the very least.