Here's the thing...

[arrogantalloy]

Who| Tony and anyone in the Capitol,
What| Tony is somewhat moping about his super "quick" arena death.
Where| D12, Tower Commons, The shopping district.
When| shortly after waking up from his arena death
Warnings/Notes| Talk of death?

District 12’s Floor
When Tony wakes up, he is less than impressed. Okay he really doesn’t at all expect to be able to win any of these arenas, but to not even last a whole day? That was what really stung, especially considering with what he saw of the Arena it would have been one he could have really taken charge in. Okay, so he’s not really an astronaut and the one time he was actually in space he sort of died for a moment, but at least being on a space station meant there was more than enough technology for him to have worked with. However once he was fully awake, he took his shirt off (and for the first time realising that his cuff has been removed from his wrist), and went to the mirror, his scaring was still there, he pawed at it for a moment because to his mind at least death by knife in the arena was far too close to home than he’d ever actually care to mention, reminding him too much of the shrapnel long since removed from his body.
Needless to say he took the whole next day to mope around the empty floor of District 12, and by mope he means he was rearranging his entire room then putting it all back again while trying to ignore the arena playing on the wall screens. He didn’t want to know who was dying or who was playing with tech. It made him feel both jealous and very lonely.

Tower Commons
Soon enough he was out in the common area of the tower sniffing out food that would bring him into at least some relative company, knowing that he at least wouldn’t have been the only tribute to have died in the last day or so.
He knows he shouldn’t, but he orders a non-virgin grape-tini and goes to sit at one of the couches to relax into it, glancing around he can see that the screen is at least playing arena highlights, he huffs with frustration before looking around to call out.
“Do a dead guy a favour and change the channel?”
He knows he’ll be ignored, but he can still try, right? By now he knows that his team will know that he died before lunch time, and while for the most part he knows every single one of them will be fine without him, there’s still that worry about Bruce, life and death situations aren’t at all something he’s at home with.
As for Dave? Well, he still has far too easy a time remembering the look on his face in his last few moments in the arena so it’s more reason to avoid the arena screenings right now.

Shopping District

With his cuff gone, Tony knows that he won’t have much of a problem indulging his tastes anymore. Not that he has overly extravagant tastes, but unsurprisingly the finicky ways of the Capitol had them honestly trying to avoid dealing with him due to his being somewhat of a criminal.
Walking into a diner he used to frequent before they refused to serve him and his cuff, he was greeted happily and they had no problem taking his order. Tony assumed that without the cuff they assume he’s done his penance and doesn’t have to be shunned anymore. Really, Tony wish he could be surprised by this but it all felt too familiar to home. So Tony takes a seat out in the sun with his burger and fries on the table as he watches people go by idly.

Comments

tower commons;

[confidentially]

Jessica was in no mood to watch the daily highlights either, but being a mentor means making certain sacrifices. As if having her whole District destroyed wasn't bad enough, she can't exist in the Capitol without the constant reminder that the Tributes she's come to adore like they are her siblings are about to be slaughtered again.

At least she can still drink in peace. Or she can, when the non-Tributes in her life aren't on her case about needing to see a therapist and go dry out again. Ugh.

She blusters into the Tower Commons, clad in an orange outfit that's a bit too summery for the snowy mountain weather. Not that she seems to notice too much. Orange is District 3's color this Arena, and she's got to show some pride in her roots. She orders something strong and straight, nothing fruity will do today, and then she spies Tony over on one of the sofas. Her eyebrows arch, curiosity taking root.

"Back so soon?" Jessica approaches him, glass in hand. She sits down beside him without waiting for an invitation.

[arrogantalloy]

Tony takes a moment to look at her as she sat down next to him, giving an agreeable eyebrow to her fashion sense, then takes a long drink.

"Zero-G makes me feel dizzy it turns out. So I thought I'd sit this one out."

He answers her dryly, before taking a contemplative look at his glass.

"How's your district surviving?"

While Tony doesn't know who exactly the woman is past the fact he's seen her around the tower enough to know she works with one of the other districts and with Tony not watching the feeds he has no idea that District Three's suits are orange so the connection isn't there for him to make.

[confidentially]

There's a wounded look in Jessica's eyes for the briefest moment before her careful, cool expression resumes. Clearly he has no idea who she is, otherwise he wouldn't ask such an insensitive question. Her entire district has been turned to ashes, after all, and while Tony Stark may not be the most sensitive or compassionate of men, Jessica is pretty sure he wouldn't make a remark like that if he knew what he was saying.

So instead of cracking further, she manages a light laugh as she settles into the seat. "It could be worse. It can always be worse. Looks like my little Eponine managed a kill this time. Arenas can be so unpredictable."

She takes a drink, lipstick leaving a mark on the rim of her cup. "We haven't met. I'm Jessica Wakefield. District 3's mentor."

[arrogantalloy]

Tony raises an eyebrow then lets his face take on a look of realisation, but he hardly looks abashed. Mostly because he still doubts that anything solid has happened to District 3, being a scientific mind he likes to hard proof to go from theoretically happened to legitimately happened, and he just isn't convinced just yet. In part due to his own military knowledge and his doubt that someone would wipe out a whole district that supplies Panem with it's technology and those who maintain it.

Logistically it's a stupid move, even if they weren't letting anyone in due to that nasty bug going around.

Ultimately he nods to acknowledge where she's from.

"Pleasure to meet you Ms Wakefield." He takes a drink, he's met Eponine a bare handful of times, and really he doesn't think he picking up murder is going to be at all good to add to what's already going on in that head. "How did she take it? I mean not the actually how did she kill this person so much as how is she handling what she's done?"

Tony has both directly and indirectly been responsible for the death of others, not in the arena but out of it, and it's never really been something that sat well with him, so he can only image what if could be like for Eponine.

[confidentially]

"Likewise, Mister Stark." She smiles, painted lips in a thin, taught curve. She eyes his beverage, eyebrows raising. "It's always so nice to meet someone with excellent taste."

As for Eponine... it would be difficult to say, of course. The girl was a mess, always such a handful, always needing babysitting. Jessica had played up the precocious teen card back when she'd done her arena, but she was never so vulgar as Eponine. She didn't spit of vomit or curse or actually have sex in the Arenas the way Eponine did. It made mentoring her quite the ordeal. That said, Jess never wished ill on her. She just wants the girl to calm the hell down most of the time.

"She's not alright. Poor kid wasn't meant for this stuff. She's nasty, but not like that." Jessica sighs, shakes her head. "I'm gonna have my work cut out for me whenever she gets back."

[arrogantalloy]

He follows her gaze to the glass then raises it to eye-level so he can see it better.

"Well, I've always enjoyed a well made Martini. Sometimes you just have to add fruit to make it better."

He takes a drink before giving it a little swirl. He shakes his head, his skin crawls in irritation, deeply hating the idea of a girl like Eponine (Not to mention everyone else really) being forced to kill is just too many levels of wrong. Outwardly he simply drinks a little deeper from his glass.

"I've heard war is worse when you're drafted. Obviously it's the same here, not that this is a surprise."

[confidentially]

Jessica snorts softly then downs the rest of her drink. "I hear it's even worse when you don't have anything worth fighting for."

That seems to hold true for the District Three Tributes at least. So few of them even know what happened to her people. Even fewer seem to actually care. Not that she blames them. It's not like they've ever had a say in what happens to them in Panem, but then again, the people of the Districts never had a say in this stuff either.

"Sorry to bring the mood down. It's hard to be all happy when there's an Arena on, you know?"

district twelve

[reallynow]

It's no surprise that Jolie is an avid watcher of the Hunger Games, considering her line of work. It's just different now that the people she's watching have become more like close friends and family than anything else. She's kept a close eye on the spectacle from the beginning, so she's aware of Tony's death and feels disappointed for him.

Secretly, she might be a little excited to have a friend back in the Capitol, but that's neither here nor there.

She strides up to the Twelve Suites after giving him a few hours to himself, knocking obnoxiously on the first door before inviting herself into the lavish apartments. She's in daytime drag certainly more casual than usual and she has a plate of blueberry muffins that she bought handmade herself.

"Anyone home?" She calls out, hoping she doesn't have to drag him out of his room.

[arrogantalloy]

When Tony hears Jolie calling from the common area he looks towards his door for a moment before grabbing a button down shirt and slipping out of the room while he's still buttoning up, making sure that his chest was hidden first.

"I wasn't even gone a week. This is getting a little co-dependant you know."

He walks over to the liquor cabinet and opens it up. Acting more like he had just come back from flying interstate on business then bleeding to death in low gravity, but then Tony's always been good at hiding his pain.

"What are you in the mood for."

[reallynow]

She quirks a brow at the fact that he's dressing himself as he leaves his room, but she chooses not to comment on it. Instead, she breezes past that topic and onto the quip he's making.

"Oh please, you're the one dying to see me." It's a low blow, said with a roll of her eyes and a wave of her hands as she sets the muffins down on the nearest counter.

"Well, it's early. Something light on the liver, maybe. Pina colada? Mimosa? We can be healthy bitches." Alcohol is totally healthy if you're mixing it with fruit juice, right?

[arrogantalloy]

At the emphasis on 'dying' Tony's hands flops to his side and he shakes his head at her.

"I want to say 'too soon' but really. I don't think it counts here." Though the moment passes quick enough when Jolie puts don't the muffins he becomes properly aware of them. "You bake?"

His eye linger on the muffins for a moment longer then he pulls out some long stemmed glasses.

"One healthy breakfast coming right up."

He pulls out a bottle of Champagne and pops the cork, it's not chilled so the cork shoots across the room in a harmless direction as the bottle pours over, apathetic to the bottle's excitement an pours the bubbly liquid into the glass before crossing the room to get some orange juice out of the fridge.

[reallynow]

"Oh, bullshit! If I didn't say it, you would've beat me to it." Probably. He seems like the kind of guy who faces these things with humor, possibly while burying his emotional pain under it, but that's why she's here.

"Huh?" She raises her brows, giving away the fact that she probably didn't actually make these before she tries to act cool. "Oh! Oh. I do a lot of things you don't know about." She half mutters that, fluffing up her wig nonchalantly before she jerks her hands back to herself protectively when the cork shoots past.

"Sheesh." Someone is a little skittish, but she pulls herself into a bar stool in front of the counter, propping her chin up on her hand when she does. "So. No curfew." That is the face of a suggestive queen. "Do you prefer ice or trees?"

[arrogantalloy]

"I would have come up with something better, at least." He teases, and he doesn't miss the eyebrow raise and it's meaning, which has him smirking at her. "Oh I bet you do. Just so long as you remember to keep engineering out of your little side hobbies we can still be friends."

He skittishness isn't lost on him either, however he elects to let it past, no doubt her nerves are always twitchy at the start of the arenas, this is just the first time Tony's been around to see it. Once he finishes the drinks he pushes one in front of her and raises an eyebrow at her.

"You know, this seems like a really suspicious question. Especially when you bring our new lack of curfew into things. Is this you scheming?"

[culturalappropriation]

"Hop me up with some greasy nosh, homes."

Punchy's hungover and it's three in the afternoon. The party life of a recent Victor is unrelenting, grueling, and yet suckling the teat of celebration is the only thing getting Punchy through the days. As for what gets him up in the morning, it's usually munchies from smoking his morning bowl or just needing to put something, anything in his stomach after a night of clubbing.

He slumps down at a seat without even bothering to see if this booth is taken, wincing in the light of the mid-afternoon. He runs his hand over his face and then looks up to see that someone is, in fact, sitting across from him. He waves weakly.

"Holla, dawg. You get capped early up in the ring?"

[arrogantalloy]

The very dated sentences aside, Tony eyes the young man and his obvious hangover.

"Let me guess, you partied wrong."

He deliberately ignores the question of his being 'capped', because that much was painfully obvious. However being amused at other people having hangovers was something Tony can always get behind.

[culturalappropriation]

"Hell nah. If you can get out of you bed before noon, you ain't been rolling it hard enough." But tell that to his pounding head or rolling stomach. Punchy reaches over for the complimentary water and groans at the fact that it's about half an inch too far away for him to reach from his current position.

"Dee twelve, right?"

[arrogantalloy]

Tony snorts at the comment. Because he's pretty sure he's said that more than a few times growing up. Though he stopped looking like this kid did in the morning before he hit 18, but starting MIT at 15 and losing your parents at 17 it's going to teach him the best hangover avoidance methods fast.

"You could probably use a gallon of gatorade, if that face is anything to go by."

He nods when his district was correctly guessed.

"They clearly knew I was big on penthouses when they brought me here."

[culturalappropriation]

"Ain't shit wrong with my face." Even though Punchy looks like he's aged ten years in the last twelve hours and still has a bit of a red drunk's nose going on. Some flakes of dried blood around his nostrils tell a tale of something harder than just alcohol, too. "But I ain't gonna puss on some electrolytes."

He would nod back, but oh, god, that makes his brain go slump-slump inside his head. Fuck that.

"I ain't supposed to be nice to peeps outside my trap but twelve's close enough to six, you know? How's your morning?"

[arrogantalloy]

At Punchy's claim there was nothing wrong with his face, Tony's own face replied with a dubious look, a pointed one at that. Letting the expression say more than he actually wants to. Mostly because Tony knows the signs of someone who parties hard, the circles Tony has spent a lot of his life in would make it impossible to not come across it.

He has no intention of bringing it up however, not only isn't it his business to judge others (on so many levels) but he knows that it's 'all a part of having the best time'.

"Considering that I died and came back fresher looking than you, I'm going to count it as a decent morning." He takes a sip of his drink with a glance around the room before looking back at the hangover in human form. "Why aren't you meant to be nice?"

D12

[justoutrunyou]

Tony isn't the only one feeling cheated in District 12's suite either.

She comes stumbling out of her room around ten, unable to sleep any longer out of frustration. Once again her body is weak and underfed so she makes a b-line for the kitchen area where she begins spreading various colored spreads and syrups over a stack of steaming waffles.

Only then does she hear the noise coming from Tony's room and her face falls. She scoops up the plate and shuffles over to pound on his door.

only one of her friends to die such a humiliating death so early in the arena.

[arrogantalloy]

Tony starts when he hears the pounding on the door, mostly because he didn't expect it, and usually because with the Peacekeepers around pounding on the door is never a good thing. He stares at the door for a moment waiting, when nothing happens he walks over to the door and calls out.

"Official consulting hours are between eight and five every other Thursday."

After he says this, he opens the door and looks down at Sandy looked at him over her waffles. He looks at them before looking back at her.

"I wasn't really hungry, but that's sweet." He looks at them again "Too sweet." He's being fairly literal considering how much sugar seems to be on the plate.

[justoutrunyou]

She gave him a fairly unimpressed look at his response.

"I don't know what consulting is, but if you at least try them then I'll go pour you a drink like you taught me."

Sort of an attempt at comforting? More like a negotiation. Either way she was making it up as she went. She didn't particularly care one way or the other if he ate the waffles she just wanted to make sure he was OK. Adults could be so emotional sometimes.

[arrogantalloy]

"You're what? 7 and you don't know what consulting is?" He gives his head a slight shake. "I've done it enough with you." He looks at the waffles again and can feel his stomach pushing against his spine to get away from all that sugar, he was never much for heavily sugary things, but this still makes him feel older. Not only that but the last few times he even at waffles they were gluten free, more because there were there more than him actively seeking them out.

"How about just a coffee. Two sugars, half-inch of milk."

He was more than capable of making his own coffee, but something about her seemed insistent to do something for him.

[justoutrunyou]

Her face burned red at his apparent surprise that she didn't know his stupid business word. "So basically giving advice?"

She seemed to hesitate and then agreed shuffling away to get the coffee. She was saved the trouble by an attentive Avox who had already poured it and was handing it back to her. She thanked him before returning with a carefully balanced cup of coffee.

"Have you been awake long?"

[arrogantalloy]

"Specific advice for a price."

As Sandy shuffles away to make his coffee Tony comes out of his room fully, closing the door behind him, he moves to the couch and sits down, sagging into the seat before looking at Sandy as she comes over with the coffee. As usual he doesn't take it, just gestures to the coffee table in front of him.

"Two hours. You?"