we're hollow like the bottles that we drink

[schnapp]

Who| beth greene and you.
What| the arena's done and she's back from a traumatizing canon update. drinking? drinking.
Where| the tribute center bar.
When| post-arena
Warnings/Notes| mentions of alcohol, natch. more to be added.



All things considered, she's surprised that the Capitol kept her new scars. It didn't seem like they would have, since she can see the billboards spanning the city that promote perfection in every physical aspect - all possible by plastic surgery, they boast. These scars weren't there the last time she was in the city, but they are now. The healed-up versions of them, remnants of Dawn's temper - being pistol-whipped across the face isn't something that just goes away.

Beth doesn't care. She doesn't know what it says about her, if it supposedly tells the world that she's weak and not worth saving like the ones hidden by her sleeves. It doesn't matter, because she's in the Capitol now, and not Grady Memorial. And it's honestly hard to tell which she'd prefer more at this point.

She'd had her first drink only a few weeks ago. Her dad used to be an alcoholic, and she'd never wanted to disappoint him. But he isn't here, and -- well. She has the blood of three men on her hands now, even though she doesn't want to admit it. Beth makes her way down to the bar with the unease of someone who is not used to being there. Chin tipped up, ready to challenge anyone who tells her that she's too young to be here.

They ask her what she wants and she replies with the first thing that pops into her head - the only other alcoholic drink she really knows, other than moonshine.

Peach schnapps.

Doesn't matter that you're not supposed to drink peach schnapps by itself. That's what she does anyway.

Comments

[fuckitall]

Nick finally steps out of his room after holing up in there since the Arena was over. It was even tougher to get him to leave after he caught the news of what happened after he died himself. Eventually, even he gets tired of being in the room so he wanders down to his second favorite destination after the roof: the bar.

There he catches the sight of Beth and it occurs to him how he's hasn't readied himself to face the people he had seen die in front of him. (How can one even prepare for that? How does Clementine?)

Nick was there, sort of, when he and Luke found Beth in a state that he wish he could just forget. But he can't. They both had been too late to save her and arrived only just in time to see the last bit of her life slip away before making sure it didn't return as something else. To think that all this can happen again in the next Arena. And not just with her, but with any one of them.

Their lives are shitty. They all deserve a drink or ten. He approaches her with butterflies in his no longer eviscerated stomach, telling the waiter that his order before looking at her apologetically.

"Hey, Beth." He doesn't take a seat in case she doesn't want the company. If she wants him to leave, he will. "You drinkin' that straight?"

[schnapp]

Their lives are shitty. Beth remembers so little about her own death. She knows Luke was there, she remembers him reaching out to take her hand. Nick might have been there, but at the time she had been too far gone to really tell. The only person that stood out to her was Nill, and it was her soft voice in her mind that had made everything a little more bearable.

She watched what happened on the televisions. They made her watch as Nick and Luke and Daryl and Rick died, and it's yet another reason why they deserve a drink ( or six ). He doesn't need to sit down, because she's instantly slipping off of her stool at the sight of him. Wrapping her arms around him and squeezing tight.

It doesn't matter that she's only known him for a few short weeks. They come from the same hellish world. He made a promise. And despite everything, she's still relieved to see anyone who is remotely familiar.

Or maybe she just has a lot of emotions to let out. There's that, too.

"Hey, Nick," she tells him quietly, sparing a glance at her untouched glass. "I was gonna. Why, is it bad?"

[fuckitall]

Nick near half-expected her to slip off and walk away but he hadn't anticipated receiving a hug either. Bonding with people isn't exactly the easiest thing for him to do and most of the time it's been more difficult with the way his life is now. Her actions seem to prove otherwise though, so he returns it gingerly, holding her close with a level of protection he couldn't give her in the Arena.

Waves of regret and relief hit him as he pulls away, feeling a little less like a husk this time. He offers her the smallest of smiles, one that isn't ready to exactly buck up and move on but enough to let her know that he's sticking around and he's glad that she's doing the same.

He doesn't know how to talk to her in regards with what happened, but drinks? Drinks he can do. It's a welcome distraction for them both.

"Not...bad." But it isn't exactly his first choice either. His shot of whiskey comes but he doesn't take it just yet, moving to sit on the bar stool. "You never drank before?"

[schnapp]

Well he's in luck, because bonding with people is what Beth does best. In a world like theirs, it's easy to get stuck in a rut of cynicism. Easy to forget how important other people are. But she cares even though it hurts because there's really no point to living life otherwise, right? There are no bright spots in the bleakness without other people.

He pulls away and slides back up to his chair at the bar. She joins him, toying with her glass of schnapps. She doesn't actually drink it yet, though.

"Well I...sorta did. Once. We had moonshine, and it was disgutin'," seriously. She's wincing at the memory of it, no matter how daintily she had sipped from that jar later in the night. The taste was probably numbed because it killed her taste buds, or something like that. She wouldn't be surprised. "But that was my first time."

[fuckitall]

Any shred of optimism Nick dares share usually ends up with it being crushed by a verbal put down or by the harsh truth itself. It always delivered an immediate satisfaction to be the first to turn away than to end up being rejected. With all the shit that has happened to him especially, he just finds it easier to expect the worst now.

It's not the healthiest attitude to adapt but he has seen "stronger" people lose it in ways that he never had. He's not that far gone. Buried under all that self-loathing and low self-esteem is a part of Nick that is still hopeful and being around Beth helps make it more apparent. He feels safe enough to reach out. Her answer elicits a snort from him. Moonshine, of all things!

"Trust me, after a while you sorta stop carin' about the taste." He's definitely no stranger to the stuff, though he wished his most recent experience with the jars were under better circumstances. Peach schnapps is too sweet on its own in his opinion, but he isn't going to tell her what she ought to try or how, not unless she asks.

"But tell you what," he orders his own glass of peach schnapps, ignoring the glance from the bartender. It's not considered to be the most "manly" thing to drink but fuck it. Booze is booze. He sets his whiskey to the side and takes the glass of schnapps in his hand, holding it out to Beth to toast.

"To still bein' here." He feels compelled to add more to that, but leaves it to Beth if she wants to.

[schnapp]

No, he's not that far gone. And neither is she. Both of them are stronger than people give them credit for, and they're gonna make it. Maybe that's hard to believe, given how they both just died, but she believes. One day, they're gonna get out of here. It's easier said than done, but it's the prospect of that is what keeps her going. One day, they'll get out and they'll go...somewhere better. Doesn't matter where.

Yeah. It's not much of a plan. But it's the best she has.

He orders a glass of schnapps for himself and it makes her break out into a smile. The kind that she hadn't shown anyone in Grady, barely holding back a laugh at the bartender's sideways glance. She raises her own glass, bumping her shoulder against his gently.

"That's a good toast. You'd be a good best man at a wedding or somethin'," she tells him, musing on what she might want to add but he's pretty much summed it up pretty well. She clinks her glass against his and takes a drink. Wincing slightly at the taste.

[fuckitall]

While it's definitely better to see her smile and laugh, it's not enough to forget the image of her lying there in a pool of blood. It's even harder for him to maintain his smirk when she makes the comment about being the best man.

"...I'm countin' on it," he says with a sad smile, clinking his glass with hers and downs the drink in one go. Sugary sweet as opposed to the bitterness he had expected to experience at being Luke's future best man. Before all this started, the thought of Luke finally finding some girl for him would make Nick's chest constrict with anxiety. Bitter probably isn't the best way to describe it, of course he'd want Luke to be happy. But it would be safe to say that after playing his role on that big day and telling the newlyweds his congratulations, he'd go home and spend the rest of the evening in his bed.

Of course all that has been rendered moot since shit hit the fan, but he's no more at ease towards anything as he used to be. Beth doesn't need to know any of this and he tells himself that he's stupid for even remembering that in the first place.

Too sweet. Good thing he has the whiskey shot to chase it down with.

"How're you likin' it so far?" He asks just as he sets the now empty shot glass on the table. His face feels warm though he's nowhere near buzzed. If Beth's looking to get shitfaced it won't be with schnapps, he'd rather keep his level to no more than a buzz. He can drown out his demons later.

[schnapp]

The thing is, that's not how she wants people to remember her. She knows she hadn't made a pretty sight, lying there in a pool of her own blood. The cameras had lingered there for a good long while, and there was something incredibly surreal about being forced to watch yourself die on a big screen television. If she could gently smooth away those mental images from their minds, she surely would.

Beth takes the shot and it's...well. It leaves a little something to be desired. "Tastes a little bit like...have you ever had canned peaches? Like the syrup at the bottom of the can. With a little bit of a kick," which basically means it's way too sweet for someone whose first taste of alcohol was moonshine. "I guess it'd be good mixed in with somethin' else."

She's got a surprisingly good tolerance, actually. For a first-timer. She's not even the slightest bit buzzed. Courtesy of Daryl, probably.

[fuckitall]

Surreal is right. Nick still isn't even sure if he's even technically alive, especially considering his last memory before finding himself in Panem. But he knows for sure that he's here just like everyone else, just like Beth. That they're still here is something that Nick can at least accept is true. It's just the matter of how and why that he'll probably never fully understand this place.

It helps to know that he's not alone in that, however hopeless their situation could be. Nick can't claim to know better.

"That's a good way to describe it. Usually people don't drink it straight." But they did. Go them! "If you mix it with orange juice, you'd get a fuzzy navel, but that ain't gonna do shit if you're lookin' to get tipsy."

He's speaking mostly from his own experience. If there's anything he has on Luke (and most of their friends for that matter), it's his higher tolerance for booze. Pretty ironic, given his impulsive behavior.

That said, he's ordering an AMF next.

[schnapp]

She's peering at what he orders next. The bartender takes the order and starts lifting bottles, and she's actually stopped counting the amount of different liquors he puts in it. Beth takes it in with a raised eyebrow, although it's probably less potent than homemade moonshine, actually.

"So...I guess that's what you drink if you wanna get tipsy? I had a couple mason jars of moonshine, and I was still kinda okay. But we also burned a house down, so maybe that says something."

Beth pauses for a moment, because that sounds really bad. Like...it makes her sound kind of crazy? She winces.

"It was an abandoned house! And it was bringin' back bad memories, so it had to go."

That's true logic, right there.

[fuckitall]

He stares at the completed drink, its potency masked by the bright blue hue from the curacao. He can take about five of these within half an hour before he blacks out...if he can recall correctly.

"You did what?" He doesn't even lift his glass to drink when Beth explains her first drunken exploit. That sure beats his. The pause lingers with Nick continuing to look at her with disbelief. It relaxes some when she explains but that doesn't make it sound any less crazy.

Then again, Nick has felt the urge to do the same thing back home, sometimes. The images have come to mind before but he never acted upon them, or would he had ever. The point is, he isn't one to judge. The thought of him being a little nuts himself has crossed his mind before.

"So it was your idea?"

[schnapp]

"Yeah. It was my idea," she's not really that ashamed about it. It's...the kind of thing Beth would have never dreamed of doing back when the world was...normal. But now that it isn't, people have to find unorthodox ways of taking care of each other. No matter what it takes or how crazy it might sound. "Sometimes...there are places you have to let go. Places filled with bad memories. So we just...made it a little easier."

Daryl's more than the environment he grew up in. He's more than his terrible family or all the things that happened to him growing up.

It was really important to Beth that he knew that, okay?

She's just gonna go ahead and order an AMF for herself, too.

[fuckitall]

He lets her words echo in his mind over and over. Letting go of places filled with bad memories. He has trouble letting things go in general.

"I'm still workin' on it," he admits quietly. Too bad he there's nothing here he can burn without risking the others getting in trouble. Any resemblance to fire coming from him is expressed through anger behind hard, but hurt eyes - the good any of that does for him in the long run. It pushes the pain away, even just a little. And during those moments something like that is usually enough.

There are some wounds that have scarred and then there are others that will simply never stop hurting. But he just has to deal with it, right? Because life is full of bullshit like that.

Beth's stronger than she looks. And it isn't because she burned a house down.

"Wish I had been there to see it though." He grins when she places her order. Now that's the spirit. "Might've even lit the match for you."

When it comes, he holds his glass up to hers for another toast.

[schnapp]

They're both the kind of people that nobody expects to make it. For various reasons, including an assumption that they're too weak to survive in their terrible new world. But Beth's not going to give up that easily, and she figures that Nick isn't the type, either. Besides, she's determined to look out for him at this point. She owes him that much - him, and Luke. Nick gets quiet and Beth doesn't really ask what he's thinking about. It's obvious it's something terrible. She just bumps his shoulder gently in solidarity.

She clinks her glass to his and downs the drink in one go. It's way stronger than she expected it to be.

"Jesus H," she exclaims, and she sort of regrets it because her dad would probably frown on taking the lord's name in vain like that, but still. It's reflexive.

[fuckitall]

The shoulder bump is enough to get him out of his daze. He taps his glass against hers and nods, his eyes telling hers that he'll be all right. Or he hopes so, anyway. He just barely swallows his AMF as he lets out a laugh at her reaction. It shouldn't be as funny as he's making it, but the buzz helps.

"There's a reason why it's called adios, motherfucker." He lets out another chuckle as he lets the warmth take over. "Can't tell you how I found out the hard way the first time."

[schnapp]

"Adios, motherfucker?" she can't help the laughter. He's laughing at her reaction, but she's laughing at how patently ridiculous he is. And maybe, just a little bit because it's nice to be in a place where they can laugh about something as ordinary as liquor.

"Dear Mister Nick," she tilts her head at him with a smile. "I think you're a real bad influence, you know. But I'm alright with that."

[fuckitall]

"Hah, you know it." Others have called him reckless before and there had been many occasions where he wouldn't disagree. "But I bet you can handle yourself, Miss Beth." He grins at that. If a stranger were to look at him now they never would expect that this same man had experience so much trauma before. It's been a rough ride and it's still going, but for now, even for just a few more minutes, he can put it aside. The fact that he can do that at all says something.

He slides his glass forward for it to be taken away. "Listen, not to kill the vibe or anything but...next time we're out there? You can stick with us." He knows she's got Daryl and Rick, and really would not blame her for preferring to stick with the ones she's been traveling with the whole time. "I mean, you got your own folks but...anything can happen, y'know?" The offer stands still and he knows Luke and Clem would say the same.