Sam Wilson (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sizeofyourbaggage) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2015-01-07 03:57 pm
sizeofyourbaggage) wrote in thecapitol2015-01-07 03:57 pm
tried counting sheep
Who| Sam Wilson and YOU! All of you!
What| Sleep issues and trying to settle post-arena
Where| Various spots in the Tribute Tower/over the Capitol
When| After the end of the arena and through the first week after, mostly before Panem Nightly
Warnings/Notes| Prompts for specific locations under the cut! Nightmare and PTSD-talk likely, probably mentions of violence and death
Late Nights in District 5
It’s probably not a secret that Sam hasn’t slept much since getting back from the arena, the same way that he can pick up the signs that he’s not the only one with sleeping problems in District Five. Some nights, he doesn’t even try - he either doesn’t return back to the floor at all, or when he does, he heads straight for the couch or the kitchen.
The nights he is there, he can be found in the common areas at all hours of the night, watching bad Capitol TV with the volume on low, in the kitchen making snacks, or even occasionally catching a few minutes of sleep on the couch before he jerks awake again.
In the Training Center
He’d been in the training room a lot before the arena, sure, but it’s even worse now. Whenever he has downtime that he can’t fill up by something else, Sam ends up here, going through a workout, practicing with whatever weapons are available, or just attacking the punching bags.
When he’s alone, he goes all out, sets up a playlist full of fast-paced, heavy workout songs and just loses himself in them.
When there’s other people there, though, he goes slower, reduces the pace so he can maintain a conversation, if they’re the type that will put up with him when he attempts to strike up one.
Out and About in the Capitol
Now that the curfew’s gone, most mornings he goes outside for his run. He hasn’t found a path he likes enough yet to make it a regular one, so he alternates routes through the parks and on the sidewalks.
When he’s done, sometimes he lingers in the Capitol, going shopping or just wandering around to get a better feel for the city, keeping an eye out for anyone he knows. Or anyone who looks like they might be a Tribute, instead of another… interestingly dressed Capitol citizen.
For Close CR
Some nights, he just can’t stand the thought of being alone. All right, a lot of nights, and he’s not too proud to seek out company when he needs someone else’s presence to pull him out of the thoughts that get stuck in his head.
Even if he does feel a little guilty at the late hour, but he figures they could tell him to get lost if they actually are sleeping, and don’t want to be disturbed.
So he when he can’t sleep, he makes his way to rooms that aren’t his, knocks quiet but firm on the doors of the people he considers himself lucky to call his friends.
(Starter prompts for specific threads in the comments!)
What| Sleep issues and trying to settle post-arena
Where| Various spots in the Tribute Tower/over the Capitol
When| After the end of the arena and through the first week after, mostly before Panem Nightly
Warnings/Notes| Prompts for specific locations under the cut! Nightmare and PTSD-talk likely, probably mentions of violence and death
Late Nights in District 5
It’s probably not a secret that Sam hasn’t slept much since getting back from the arena, the same way that he can pick up the signs that he’s not the only one with sleeping problems in District Five. Some nights, he doesn’t even try - he either doesn’t return back to the floor at all, or when he does, he heads straight for the couch or the kitchen.
The nights he is there, he can be found in the common areas at all hours of the night, watching bad Capitol TV with the volume on low, in the kitchen making snacks, or even occasionally catching a few minutes of sleep on the couch before he jerks awake again.
In the Training Center
He’d been in the training room a lot before the arena, sure, but it’s even worse now. Whenever he has downtime that he can’t fill up by something else, Sam ends up here, going through a workout, practicing with whatever weapons are available, or just attacking the punching bags.
When he’s alone, he goes all out, sets up a playlist full of fast-paced, heavy workout songs and just loses himself in them.
When there’s other people there, though, he goes slower, reduces the pace so he can maintain a conversation, if they’re the type that will put up with him when he attempts to strike up one.
Out and About in the Capitol
Now that the curfew’s gone, most mornings he goes outside for his run. He hasn’t found a path he likes enough yet to make it a regular one, so he alternates routes through the parks and on the sidewalks.
When he’s done, sometimes he lingers in the Capitol, going shopping or just wandering around to get a better feel for the city, keeping an eye out for anyone he knows. Or anyone who looks like they might be a Tribute, instead of another… interestingly dressed Capitol citizen.
For Close CR
Some nights, he just can’t stand the thought of being alone. All right, a lot of nights, and he’s not too proud to seek out company when he needs someone else’s presence to pull him out of the thoughts that get stuck in his head.
Even if he does feel a little guilty at the late hour, but he figures they could tell him to get lost if they actually are sleeping, and don’t want to be disturbed.
So he when he can’t sleep, he makes his way to rooms that aren’t his, knocks quiet but firm on the doors of the people he considers himself lucky to call his friends.
(Starter prompts for specific threads in the comments!)
no subject
"You're welcome," he replies, giving a half shrug of his own. "Look, I don't want anything in return, all right? Neither of you owe me anything." He quirks a small, wry smile, then admits, "I almost never know how that's going to go over. I've had people get pissed at me, tell me they refuse to be in debt, even if I don't see it that way. It was easier when I was serving, and I could just pull rank, or tell people to shut the hell up and let me do my job."
no subject
“Guess we’re all fish outta water around these parts.” He offers with a sympathetic uptilt of his eyebrows, absently scratching at the warm, prickly skin under his scarf. “S’jus’ good to know there’s somebody else here who has that formal experience treatin’ injuries. …been more than a few times when I wished I had somebody who could tell me what the right thing to do is. Had a doctor with us, for a while, but…”
He peters off, blinking, his gaze slowly turning inward and settling somewhere between Sam and the ground. A muscle works restlessly in his cheek. And when he continues his voice is a low, softly crackling thing, the furrow between his brows deepening.
“…yeah.”
It is what it is.
no subject
Then Luke trails off, and Sam tilts his head in acknowledgement. Considering what he’s coming from, Sam’s guessing Luke’s more used to losing people, one way or another, than to them sticking around.
It is what it is.
“I can show you what I know, if you want. The more people we’ve got with some kind medical experience, the better.” Both in the arena, and in whatever else comes.
no subject
"That'd be a big help." Anything to improve his odds of survival and be better equipped to protect his friends. "Used to work at a camp way back when... They had us trained in basic first aid and CPR jus' in case somethin' happened with the kids, mostly. Think I remember most of it but I, uh, could definitely use a refresher whenever you're offerin'."
Rebecca going into labour while on the move had revealed how ill-prepared for the bleeding and the trauma he had been. Without Kenny's experience they'd have been left praying that her body knew what to do with only drinking water and soothing words and the comfort of a blanket to offer her.
“Knowin’ how to deal with someone goin’ into shock would be pretty useful.”
no subject
He glances over at the cafe he's pretty sure Luke'd been heading to when he spotted him.
“We’re probably going to have to use the training room for any practical stuff, but maybe we can grab some lunch and I can get some of the more boring talking parts of of the way?"
no subject
“Sounds good.” He won’t say no to lunch with a grumbling stomach and spending longer than a few minutes together would help him get a better feel for Sam’s character. Not a bad way to begin building up an alliance. He moves towards the café’s doors, reaching for the handle. “All that talk’s gonna end up savin’ somebody’s life one a’ these days… an’ besides, it’s only boring if you teach it that way.”
He softens the edge of his half-joke with his first attempt at a smile in too long, his expression a little stiff and more than a little worn around the edges. But it’s a start.
no subject
When Luke agrees to his proposal, Sam can't help but smile. He'd gotten to know Nick a little bit better, after he'd convinced him to come out of his room for a bit, he's glad for the chance to do the same with Luke. They're survivors, and Sam knows he could do a lot worse for potential allies. Both in the arena, and maybe against the Capitol, though he's no where near sure on that second one.
He chuckles at that joke, waiting for Luke to enter the cafe before he follows. Sam's been around too many people who hadn't smiled much in a long time - himself one of them, a while back - to be at all put off by any stiffness. "Tell you what, you let me know how I do at the end, all right?"
no subject
A rush of warm air greets him as he pushes through the door, his wind-whipped skin prickling, stinging. He gives it a few more nudges, glancing back to ensure the door wasn't swinging back into Sam. "I'll have that report on your desk first thing the mornin' after. Double-spaced, size twelve font, whatever you want."