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Who| Cassian and Open
What| Getting acclimated to his new surroundings
Where| Various. The Tower commons, District 7, on the roof
When| The day of his arrival + the morning after
Warnings/Notes| What appears to be underage drinking and smoking, 19th century guy trying to technology, otherwise just a reminder that Cassian looks and sounds like he's twelve years old, even though he's not

District 7 suites
They'd taken him up to this floor with it's lavish decorations and too much space and entirely wrong smell and he hadn't even been paying attention when they had. His head had been swimming with how he was supposed to be dead right now but was instead somewhere that wasn't London or anywhere in England he could think of. In fact, he didn't know of any place it could be, there wasn't anywhere like this in the world, Delilah would have heard about it.

The fabrics felt wrong, the windows looked strange and the lights were so bright and advanced beyond what Cassian could think of, much less any of the stuff he didn't recognize.

The lavish surroundings and overwhelming feeling of not belonging were suffocating and, instead of sitting around to see who these other 'competitors' were, he decided he needed air. He left his room and headed for the place they'd come out of to get to this floor, not looking at anyone he might be walking past. In fact, if he happened to run into anyone, he responded with a growled "Watch where you're going!" His voice harsh with frustration.

Now he just had to work on making the thing that looked like a giant people-moving dumbwaiter open up and run for him and get him out of there.

Roof
When he did eventually get the damn machine to work, he decided getting a lay of the land was a good idea, maybe he'd be able to spot a landmark that could answer some of his questions. The roof seemed like a good option. Key word being seemed.

The minute he got a real look at the cityscape, he realized how entirely hopeless this was. Nothing looked familiar, he could be on an alien planet for all he knew. He stood up on the lip of the roof, his hand tracing along the not-glass that seemed to ring the whole area. To keep them from falling or jumping, more than likely. He decided to see if the whatever-it-was really did go all the way around or if it had a break in it somewhere; one step at a time in a situation he was beginning to understand was way over his head.

A little exploring taught him nothing new: the whole roof was lined with the thing and the only thing he found out was what the city looked like from above. Not completely useless, but next to it. He stopped walking around the edge like a tiger stuck in a cage and rested his forehead against the barrier, watching it ripple for a moment before closing his eyes.

What should he do?

He probably wasn't dead, this probably wasn't Hell, although he had to wonder. There was no doctor here and no Delilah. He was alone...like always, if he was honest with himself. No, he needed to see more, find out what he could for himself. Maybe Jezebel was here and he'd just missed him. It was worth looking.

If anyone had been watching the 'kid' resting against the barrier, they might be startled by the fact Cassian suddenly whips around and bolts off the ledge and heads back for The Metal Box of Mass-Frustration, not entirely looking around as he did it. If there was anyone in his way, there was just as likely a chance that he'd dart around them like water moves around a stone as there was that he'd just barrel into them.

He didn't care, he needed to get down into that city.

Commons
By the time he started drinking, the sun was setting and his legs were sore from all the walking and climbing he'd done. He'd quickly learned when he'd gone looking for food -they'd given him a strange card to pay with and, some how, the idiots he gave it to treated it like money and didn't question, if they were too stupid to know when they were getting played, then who was he to correct them?- that he couldn't buy alcohol from these stores; something about 'drinking laws' or some tripe and the same went with getting a pack, apparently he wasn't allowed to smoke, either.

Not being allowed was hardly a deterrent, though. A little slight-of-hand and there was a pack, matches and a good bottle of whisky newly in his possession...which was good because, by the time he'd gotten back to the tower, he was ready to use them.

Jezebel wasn't there, no sign of Delilah in the slightest, they were serious about this dumb death match thing which seemed really dumb since it seemed they didn't even actually die and, to top it all off, it seemed he was in the colonies or what was left of them after God-knows what happened (if he wasn't wrong about the shapes of countries on the map, anyway). But all of that was just the base level. Frustrations in comparison to the real things bothering him.

He'd died trying to save Jezebel and instead of just going with that, he'd been forced to live on still trapped in his own body. He still had to look in a mirror and know he was fundamentally wrong, he still had to deal with the passing glances from people older and younger than him, the ones that said the person was wondering why this child was out alone and should they stop to help it? He almost always succeeded at making them think twice with a well-formed glare.

On top of that, this place...well, it was disgusting. Everywhere he'd gone today, there'd been never ending signs of prosperity and lavish luxurious lifestyles filled with an over-abundance of everything. There was waste and snobbery everywhere he turned and after his second glass of whisky, this thought alone convinced him he must be in Hell after all. The only place fit for people like these was Hell.

So he drank, the whisky bottle and a small glass from the bar set up beside him in the little sitting area he'd found. The one good thing about the aristocracy that polluted this place as it polluted his was that they rarely saw what they didn't want to and Cassian was, more often than not, invisible. Cigarette in one hand and glass in the other, he alternated between people-watching and staring off into space, content to stay there until this stupid 'curfew' was reached. If anyone lingered too long, long enough to catch those sharp brown eyes, then they'd get a glare fashioned just for them and a low "What are you looking at?" as though growled at by a dog that's hunkered itself in a corner.

Training Center
The next morning found him sober and sharp, his movements graceful as he slipped through the tower's halls like a shadow in the hour he was allowed to leave the floor he was relegated to. They'd been between missions back home, which meant he hadn't had a target to eliminate in over a week and it wasn't like he was going to find one here either, he needed to rely on himself to get his training. Luckily, they had a whole floor dedicated to that.

When Cassian got to the Training Center, he started with an obstacle course to use for his cardio. The one point of praise he had for this weird and advanced system (one he had to have explained to him) was that it was challenging. He still ran the courses with agility and grace that left him with very few errors by the end, but he was getting his work out.

The next thing was something he had to set up with some help from the mutes who acted more like shadows than Cassian did: a web of ropes suspended over the training room with a ladder near one rope as the only floor access point. This was where Cassian spent the majority of his time: balancing on the ropes as though he were walking on solid ground instead. He went back and forth, traveling the full distance of his web to keep what the circus had taught him sharp. Those people had been bastards, but he'd learned his trade from them.

The last place he settled was with the targets and the array of throwing knives he was allowed: they were all blunt enough to be fairly ineffective at killing, but they were alright practice. If Cassian demonstrated any skill anywhere in his training, it was here. There wasn't a target he missed and each blade landed deep enough to stick fast. He killed with his knives, they were an extension of himself. If anyone who knew knife throwing watched closely, they might notice the one thing odd about his stance: he threw his blades by the blade itself, causing the daggers to need to make a full rotation before hitting. It was deadly, yes, but not the form of a trained assassin.

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To be fair, Ruffnut should have been watching where she was going.

"You watch it!" She snarled shoving at him with powerful viking arms. She didn't know who this kid was but a girl from Berk was not known to back down from confrontation. Even if it was petty and unnecessary.

Actually...especially if it was petty and unnecessary.

Someone running into him and then blaming him for it was hardly surprising, the fact it was some girl wasn't surprising either. It was the fact her shove, something that should have sent him back a step if anything at all, sent him back several steps to the point he would have fallen over himself if it wasn't for his balance giving him a chance to catch himself.

"The hell's your problem?"

A normal day he would have let it roll off of him as just one more asshole encounter, but today his nerves were frayed and she'd startled him, so he opened his big mouth.

She put her hands on her hips looming over him and glared as fiercely as she could muster.

"You ran into me jerk!" She snarled. "So that makes you my problem. And unlike all the other problems around here I know how to deal with a problem like you." She punched a fist into her open hand in a menacing manner.

What the hell was up with this girl? He'd only ever seen behavior like this from street punks with something to prove back home. Hired muscle with very little brain. She definitely had muscle if that shove had been any indication, but Cassian's thing had always been speed and accuracy.

If he had his knives he probably would've already slit her throat and been done with this headache. But he didn't and he really didn't care to fight with a child over something so dumb.

"Listen, kid, while I got nothing against hitting girls, you're not worth the headache. Go find a gym or something."

That was his dismissal before moving to head past her and back towards where he'd wanted to go to start with.

It really wasn't his fault for the most part. Ruffnut had been dealing with alot of confusing feelings and thoughts lately and they had her all knotted up inside. So being so easily dismissed like this was the last straw to the most recent pile that had been stacking up on her back.

With a primal snarl she spun around and hurled herself at his retreating form in an attempt to tackle him to the ground. Was he fast enough to avoid her lanky arms and furious leap?

Thankfully, Cassian expected the worst of people at all times, so he side stepped her and turned to face his assilent now on the ground. Dr. Zenopia's words from seemingly hours ago echoed in his head, how his deformity had supposedly kicked his reflexes into high-gear. That was something, at least. When it came to cheap-shots anyway.

He went down to her level, moving to grab her wrists and pin them to the ground in an attempt to keep her from lashing out again. She'd already proven she was strong and while Cassian was no push-over, he didn't know the lengths of her strength.

"Why're you so bent on fighting me?"

Now if Ruffnut were to think about his question for a minute she might too wonder why this one simple act of bumping into her had caused her to want to pound his face in. She wasn't normally such an angry person...

...but Ruffnut didn't stop to think. All she knew was he was pinning her hands so that meant he was close enough that she could attack in the traditional manner of her family. She drew her head back and slammed it forward in a enthusiastic headbutt.

In his entirely humble and not at all inflated opinion, Humans never truly looked their age. Yes, of course, there were tricks to assessing them. Grey hairs were a telltale sign, unless people chose to augment them. Which they did, here more frequently than was in vogue with most Federation citizens, it seemed. Then again, like any living species, there was always a deviation or two running around. Garak moved easily enough through the people milling about in the commons, his comfort with Humans of note. Despite his scaled chalky skin and harshly ridged features, nothing about him seemed at odds with the loungey environment of the Commons.

The same could not, if he was to be completely honest, be said of the boy at the bar. In Garak's humble and not at all inflated opinion, the boy seemed to be, well, a boy. And that alone made him stand out starkly in such an environment. It also made him interesting. And who could truly say? Perhaps there was more to the sullen child than met the eye. That would certainly be interesting.

"Excuse me, is this seat taken?" He asked Cassian, not awaiting a reply before sliding into the adjacent chair and making himself comfortable. An Avox hovered with a menu, but Garak waved her off with a request for 'coffee, black, with sugar' before turning back to his soon-to-be acquaintance and gracing him with a thin-lipped smile. "Garak of District 12, formerly of Cardassia. I'm afraid we haven't met, Mister...?"

'What's wrong with your face?' It ran through his head, but luckily didn't make it out of his mouth. He'd grown up in a circus where there'd been plenty of freaks. Freaks that were people too. He eyed the guy a moment but shrugged. If he wanted to sit there that was fine, if he annoyed Cassian too much, he could always just walk away.

"Cassian of...District 7 I think." It didn't really matter to him. If he was expected to be loyal to his 'district' or the people in it, they were going to be disappointed.

"Cardassia...where is that? Somewhere in Africa?" He had never bothered studying countries or anything like that, why waste your time with places you'd never see anyway?

Edited 2014-11-27 23:54 (UTC)

"Oh, nowhere on Earth. It's about twenty billion lightyears. Hardly even the same quadrant, actually." Garak beamed back at him, thin lips parting to reveal strangley pronounced teeth. "It's wonderful to meet you Cassian. Circumstances of our capture not at all withstanding."

The Avox returned and he made a show of fixing his coffee. He stirred it once, twice, mixing in milk and sugar, all the while his eyes darted from the drink to Cassian's face, as if looking for any sort of reaction. "How long have you been here, Mister Cassian? Have they told you what you're in for?"

What the hell was up with this guy? He seemed friendly enough, Cassian certainly wasn't being actively annoyed by him like he was with most people, but there was something in the way he behaved that put Cassian on edge. Garak reminded him of the nobility he hated so much, just minus the actual position which was probably why he wasn't feeling overly-hostile.

Beyond that, though, what was all this crap about 'lightyears' and 'quadrants?' What did that even mean. Maybe Garak was just unbalanced in the head. Or maybe it was something future-y Cassian couldn't wrap his head around, he'd certainly been running into enough of that today. He chose not to address it in case he just made himself sound overly stupid. Instead, he watched the other guy's movements and held himself with the kind of caution a wild animal might when assessing if it was being threatened or not. He was ready to bolt if need be, charming smiles or not.

"A fight to the death, we're entertainment, like a bunch of side-show freaks." He thought he'd escaped the circus, but now he was just put in a new one. I woke up here this morning." Nevermind it had been night when he'd been dying in Jezebel's arms, that was the least weird thing and easily dismissed. "Sound about right to you?"

"Yes," Thin reptilian lips gave way to surprisingly human-like teeth. "I suppose that does sound like it. Just about." Garak bristled almost imperceptibly. It was always difficult to read the newcomers. The true trouble with being in an alternate timeline (as near as he could tell) was that it meant divergent characteristics. Deductive reasoning based solely on what he knew of humanity did absolutely nothing for him here. It was perturbing. Frustrating.

He sipped his coffee, allowing a moment or two to pass in silence.

"I have been here for several months. Long enough to have stopped counting." He said finally, light eyes cast downward, focusing somewhere between the wood grain of the table and his cup. At last, he glanced upward again, meeting Cassian's eyes with a peculiar purposefulness. "Do you know anyone else here? Some people seem to have brought their entirely family with them."

Cassian watched him as the silence went on, but with every moment he didn't get the feeling he was going to be attacked, he relaxed. Maybe this was just a simple conversation after all.

If he could think of it like that, like a normal conversation in an abnormal circumstance, he could almost imagine he would like Garak. Cassian wasn't put off by his face once he'd looked at it long enough, how many people with deformities had he seen in circuses and even in Delilah? This was a little more than that, but it was ultimately the same. And at least Garak seemed polite.

"No, I don't think so. The people I would know...well, there's only one I'd even care about being here and he wouldn't make himself scarce in a place like this." Jezebel might hate people even more than Cassian did, but he also knew how to handle himself among the upper class and the ridiculous lifestyle of the Capitol would be the kind of place Jezebel would make himself shine in.

"What about you? Either you've got the only people you care about here already or there's no one you miss if you've given up keeping track of time."

The roof is, quite possibly, the place that Nill spends most of her time when she's actually in the towers. It seems to have the best view that most tributes can access in the city, the view is never blocked by much more than another tribute wandering around, and better still, the capitol somehow manages to pull off vibrant city lights at night while also maintaining a pretty good view of the stars. While she hasn't really figured out how they do it, she's no less grateful. The roof has provided her the best distractions since she got here.

She's not oblivious to the kid circling the rooftop like a cage animal, but she doesn't quite know what to say to him either. There's not much consolation that a mute girl can provide a very angry looking boy, especially when she seems very intent on not sitting still, which is a mild requirement for much communication with her.

It's mostly luck that she's heading down to the commons right when Cassian decides to bolt from where he is and into the Box of Mass-Frustration. The door slides shut quietly behind him, and Nill is left staring a little, startled by the suddenness of it, before she gestures towards the buttons, unsure of anything else to do, her wings fluttering behind her.

What floor?

"Oh."

He was a little surprised to see the girl in the box with him. It hadn't even occurred to him he might run into someone else. He looked at her a moment and then a moment longer as he spied the wings on her back. What the hell? He'd seen some nobles with crazy costumes before, but not people with actual wings.

"Um...whatever the first floor is." He still hadn't really grasped the whole thing, but he was pretty sure that was '1' or maybe it was the star. Stupid useless invention. Why did they need something like this anyway? Maybe if they didn't build their buildings so high, they wouldn't be so scared of the concept of stairs.

"Are those wings real?" He couldn't help but ask, it was just so strange.

She gives him a quick thumbs up to show her understanding, and quickly hits the star button, which must be where she's headed too, because none of the other buttons have been pressed. It seems most of the numbered buttons are assigned by district for the sake of ease and not confusing some of the more easily confused or distraught tributes.

It's a questions she's at least a little used to. As the elevator begins to go down she spreads her wings out a little so he can get a better look. Though not entirely comfortable with people looking at her wings, she's pretty understandable about this part when she can be. They are most definitely real, but she'll let him make his own judgment on that.

Cassian moved around her a bit to take a better look since it was being offered. He didn't circle and he didn't touch, he wasn't a creep, just a murderer. But looking at the way the wings seemed to move when she did, he could only assume they were, in fact, real. Which lead him to his next question.

"Were you kidnapped too or do you come from this place?" Because he was pretty sure he'd seen some people colored green and gold and God knew what else while he was watching the city; a pair of wings probably wasn't that weird. Of course, if she'd been kidnapped, that meant she definitely wasn't human and he had a hard time thinking about that. It was probably better not to ask. He had enough problems without trying to think of things not from Earth.

He seems like kind of a strange kid. Not terribly talkative, straight to the point questions. He doesn't seem unkind, but maybe a little rougher around the edges. Nill smiles in response, but before she can try to tell him one way or another the elevator has hit the ground floor. She makes a gesture for him to wait a moment and steps off the elevator, pulling out her notepad and writing on it as she does. Once they're off and she's done, she holds it up for him to read.

I'm not from here.
my name is Nill.
what's yours?

He saw her gesture and nodded but made sure he was off the damn thing before it trapped him in there. Again.

When she held up her note, he very nearly told her not to bother, that he couldn't read, but a quick glance at what should be unfamiliar shapes quickly reminded him that wasn't the case anymore. Whatever these people had done to him, it allowed him to read for the first time in his life. It was weird and there were several other things he would have preferred over that particular skill, top of the list being a normal body but whatever.

"Cassian. I came from London." Nill was kind of a weird name, but there was no point in telling her that.

"You seem too nice to be in a place like this." A game of murder didn't suite someone with angel wings and an easy smile. Hell, life in general didn't suite people like that, they would only be corrupted and tainted by the cruelty and hatred in people.

Hey, at least this one makes communication with people easier! ...communication with one person easier. ...yeah, the normal body thing probably would've been a lot nicer. Sorry Cassian. At least Nill is nice and generally polite.

Nill laughs very slightly, though it doesn't sound like a typical laugh, resembling one in movement and expression more than sound. Gotta love mute laughter.

it's nice to meet you.
that doesn't sound like a compliment.

The sight of her laughter makes him feel warmer somehow, lighter, it was a strange feeling, one he couldn't name. He didn't bother trying, it would pass.

Her assessment that it didn't sound like a compliment just received a shrug. "I dunno that I meant it like one, but I guess it wasn't an insult either, so take it how you want." It was just an observation, a note that this place liked to pull in people who deserved better. Not that that was all that surprising, people liked breaking the innocent.

He shook his head a bit and took a half-step back. "Look, don't let me make you late for whatever, I'm just taking a look around, I don't got anywhere specific to go."

She's quick to wave off what seems like mild concern, because that's faster than actually writing a response is, but she makes a gesture towards the paper to let him know that she will be doing that anyway. It never ceases being kind of tedious needing to do things this way.

I'm not meeting anyone.
I was going to get groceries, but I don't need to.
do you know how to get around here?

Cassian gave her a slightly confused look. "You mean do I know the place? No. If you mean ways to get around, I was just going to walk."

Walking around seemed the best option to figure out where things were. And a good way to waste time when he didn't even know what he should be doing next.

"That seems really annoying to have to write everything down, you don't have some easier way of talking? Sign language or something?" Not that he knew it, but it just seemed more convenient. Of course, if he'd still been illiterate, this conversation probably wouldn't have lasted was his guess.

I could show you around.

She's in the middle of writing the response to the first part when he asks why she doesn't use sign language. She pauses momentarily to make sure that she remembers the gestures well enough to use them, before tucking her notepad under her arms so that both of her hands are free. Then she goes about signing out, You know sign language?

She's only really met two in the past few years that knew sign language at all, honestly. It's why she doesn't use it much. Very few people just happen to know sign language

He at least had the decency to look a little flustered when she started signing at him. That was a dumb question to ask when he didn't know sign language himself. "Sorry...I don't know it myself. The doc taught me a few phrases just in case, but not enough to really hold a conversation. Guess I can see why that could be just as annoying."

But she'd also offered to show him around and he just wasn't sure about that. Why would she want to do that? His expression took on a bit of apprehension. "Why would you want to show me around? What could you get out of it?"

She couldn't possibly be considering it out of 'the kindness of her heart' no one did something for nothing. Then again, she'd already proven she was one of those 'nice' types that were so rare and almost never lasted. He definitely wasn't one of those people.

He shook his head. "Forget it, thanks but no thanks, I think it'd be better if you ran your errands and I went my own way."

Well, the question seems like it had been meant with good intent, if nothing else. Nill smiles slightly, and waves off his apology before she grabs her notepad again.

His initial response to her offer is met more with confusion than anything, and it shows. Her wings flutter a little as she writes another reply.

nothing.
if you change your mind I can do it later.
I'm in district 9.

He stared at her, not understanding how she could mean that, before giving up on it and deciding there was some ulterior motive she just wasn't thinking about actively.

"Yeah, okay." And after a moment's hesitation: "Thanks. I'm in District 7."

He offered her a nod and turned to leave, hoping whatever confusion she'd caused wouldn't follow.

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