thecapitol | tried counting sheep

Entry tags:

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!)

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He can’t help but smirk a little at the once over, giving her a little wink. Sam’s not the kind of guy that doesn’t own up to being attractive, especially not when he’d already started a little bit of flirting.

“Oh, it’s not flattery if it’s truth.” He pauses. “Well, maybe just a little bit flattery.”

His grin doesn’t fade at her push, and he chuckles a little at the comment. “If crazy charming’s my reputation, I guess that’s something I can live with.”

He's already sort of middling between the vast ego of Tony and the bashful attitude of Steve and Jolie likes it very much. He's just a very likable person, it sucks that she can't have him in her District.

"Well, there's the plain truth and there's the garnished truth and personally I like a little parsley with my steak." She crinkles her nose when she makes the joke and smiles even more when he quips back. "I think I could live with it too. Shame you aren't in Eight, I'd have you decked out for the gods." She flourishes a hand to add a little drama to that statement, the Capitol accent all the more obvious when she's praising herself.

She's definitely Capitol, very Capitol, but... not in a bad way. Or at least not in a way that sets Sam on edge, and he's met a few that got he's hackles up.

"A girl after my own heart, there's no point in doing steak unless you're gonna do it right." And he means both the metaphorical truth garnishing and literal steak, there."Maybe that's why I'm not," he teases. "They knew you and me would be too much of a force to be reckoned with."

"That's gotta be it. Too much damn power, we'd have the sponsors eating out of our hands." Eating. Steak. She's getting hungry, damn.

"Anyway! If you like steak and I like steak, we're gonna have to eat it in the same room sometime. Hell, it's lunchtime. C'mon, it's my treat. I'll take you some place fancy so you know I'm old money." Which she isn't and the voice she puts on makes that much obvious.

"I'll just have to mourn a little for what can never be." He's joking, but he's also half-considering if he could actually show up at her door if he ever really hates what his stylist wants him to wear and beg her to fix it.

He chuckles a little at her tone. "Free food and good company? Hell yeah, sign me up. One condition, though - you gotta let me cook it for you next time."

"Never never stops me." She quips, as if reading his vibe there. He wouldn't be the first person to ask and it wouldn't be the first time she offered. What she does on her own time is her business and she invites every Stylist to either fight her or step their game up.

"Had a feeling you'd be on board." She muses, then she grins at the offer. "He cooks too, huh? Surprised I haven't seen you headlining the kitchenware brands. I bet you'd make some housewives real happy with a photo shoot." She can't help cackling at the idea of him posing in some kitchen set, but she nudges him along so they can start walking forward.

"Yeah? I'll keep that in mind." By which he means he is absolutely going to her the first time his stylist really pisses him off.

Sam dutifully starts moving forward, following her lead since she's - presumably - the one who knows where she's going. "I've only really cooked for some of the other Tributes, so far. Maybe word hasn't gotten out yet." He's a little surprised that he doesn't hate the idea, of doing some kind of photoshoot like that. Porrim and Azula'd probably approve, and it's better than some of the other things he's seen around.

"The only thing I hear out of District Five's suites is the damn arguing, honey. I don't know how you deal with it, I've never seen such a well assembled bunch of drama queens and I've been on the drag scene for twenty goddamn years." She rolls her eyes and lets out an exasperated sigh. She might be overreacting a little, but she has been awoken to the sounds of yoghurt bickering more than once before.

"Whatever, though. I'm sure we can find better things to talk about." She says with a shrug as she leads him into a relatively fancy restaurant, going through the motions of being greeted and shown to a table. When they sit, she smiles eagerly across at him. "You should tell me a bit about yourself, because all I know for sure is that all of Tony and Steve's friends from back home are good looking, charming and stupidly talented." No lies detected.

That makes him laugh, soft and deep. “I like ‘em,” he replies, pitching his tone low and conspiratory. “They might be drama queens, but they’re my drama queens.” Mostly, he’s teasing, but there’s still some truth there. He’s fond of all of them, and two of them - two of the ones most responsible for the arguments, he suspects - are all but family.

Once they’re seated, he leans back a little, grinning at her comments. “You know that for sure, huh? You can see ‘stupid talent’ just by looking at me?” He doesn’t protest the charming or good-looking, because why bother? Sam’s called himself good-looking before, he’s confident in it. “I’m a soldier, like Steve,” he continues, actually answering her question. “I was in pararescue.”

"Fair enough." She laughs airily, but it's a sentiment she can agree with so she softens her smile. "Eight is all antisocial, grumpy assholes. I bet the colour and movement is fun sometimes, but I wouldn't trade my boys for anything." Even if they are so overdue for a win at this rate.

"Like I said, I know Tony and Steve, don't try to tell me they aren't stupid because you're fooling yourself." Who cares if they're engineering a strategic geniuses? They dumb. Her brows raise in surprise and she lets out an impressed hum. "Figured you two had something in common- but we do things differently here so enlighten me. What's a pararescue, exactly?"

His brows furrow a little, trying to place exactly who's in eight, but he doesn't know any of them very well. Well, aside from one person. "You've got Clint Barton in eight now, right?" He grins a little. "He really digs the bird theme."

Sam can't help but laugh when she calls Steve and Tony stupid. "Nah, I wouldn't even try." They're stupid geniuses, is what they are, but he says it with affection. He makes a little bit of a face at himself when she asks that, though - he'd forgotten again, that not everyone here's heard of pararescue. "Special ops. When we'd get soldiers downed behind enemy lines or stuck somewhere injured, they'd send us in, to give emergency medical attention and get them back home safe."

"I kind of got the hint from the name Hawkeye, but the fact that he comes hopping out whenever you scatter breadcrumbs over the floor." She winks, chuckling at the mental picture she's painted herself.

"Good, good." She weaves her fingers together so she can rest her chin on her hands and focus her full attention on Sam as he answers her questions. Her brows raise, clearly impressed even if she isn't particularly surprised.

"Oh! So you're like a super doctor- no. An extreme doctor? That's amazing." She pulls back, clapping her hands together excitedly like she's suddenly face to face with that boy band she stalked religiously. "I really do owe you a steak, then. You want a drink?" She asks, waving a waiter over.

“Does he now? That’s a good one, I’ll have to remember that for later.” And considering he and Barton had already spent at least twenty minutes together in the arena just shooting bird puns back and forth, he’s pretty sure he’ll have the opportunity to bring it up. “Least I know he’s in good hands with you.”

Her reaction makes him chuckle, smile turning just a little bit smug. He hates the attention he gets for being a Tribute, but he’s proud of the work he’d done as a pararescueman, and a reaction like that can’t be anything but a little boost to the ego. “Extreme doctor, I like that. I might have to start using it.”

He pauses for a moment, considering, then shrugs. “Why not? Can’t turn down a drink when I’ve got such good company.”

"As long as you credit me, I don't see the problem." She laughs, still looking at least a little twitterpated with him. If being around Steve and Bro and so many other tributes has shown her anything, it's that nothing makes her want to swoon more than a person who can swoop in, save the day and still have a perfect smile.

When the waiter approaches, Jolie turns her attention to him with some difficulty. "Get me wine, something that'll go well with steak. Oh- and we'll have the steak. I like mine medium rare." She grins, then points a finger at Sam. "Don't get too starstruck, kid. But you're gonna have to ask him what he wants and he probably wants something stupid." She pulls a face at Sam because she's a charmer.

“I’ll get it trademarked in your name.” He’s pretty sure he’s joking, although he wouldn’t be surprised if that was actually a thing that happened here.

“Hey now, why do you gotta jump to conclusions like that?” he teases, looking over at the waiter and tilting his head towards Jolie. “I’ll have what she’s having.” He pauses, then adds, “And make it a red wine.”

"Told you it'd be stupid." She says with a laugh, knowing they basically ordered the same thing. The waiter leaves, probably a little starstruck, and Jolie only vaguely rolls her eyes after him.

"So," She starts, lacing her manicured fingers together to form a perch for her chin. "You probably get this all the time, but fuck you I'm curious. How do you know Tony and Steve?" Despite just swearing at him, she'll smile sweetly and politely at him. "They're dear, dear friends of mine."

He makes a face at her for that comment, but he’s still grinning and his eyes are crinkled in amusement.

She’s right - he has been asked this question a lot, but that doesn’t mean he minds telling it again. It’s fun seeing how many different spins he can put on his introduction to Steve. “Tony I only knew by reputation before I got here, and we had the chance for a little more bonding time. But Steve?”

Sam leans back a little taking a sip of his water. “Steve I met because he’s a jerk who likes to make fun of guys who’re just trying to get through their morning run.”

"That's right, he's already famous for being an asshole or something, isn't he? He doesn't tell me much, but I figured it out." She follows that with a proud little smile, like she's pleased with herself for doing that much. Her brows raise with interest when he continues, but eventually all she can do is laugh at him.

"He's real good at pretending he's nice, huh? So were you uh, doing military things or something?" In Jolie's mind, it's hard to imagine the two of them just meeting on the street somehow like she and Sam just did. She might be well adjusted to Tributes, but there's still a little bit of that objectifying hero-worship going on in her mind.

"That's exactly what he's famous for," Sam agrees, smiling widely. "If he ever tells you it was for being a genius or an excellent inventor, don't buy it." And he's only partly joking. Sure, everyone back home knows about Tony Stark because of the genius thing and the rich thing, but anyone who says the media didn't follow him primarily because of the shit he got up before he became Iron Man is lying.

"Not the first time I met him. Well, not technically, anyway, but I'm pretty sure we were both out there running because it's a real bad idea to get out of shape in our line of work." Among other reasons, but none of those are appropriate to mention in this kind of conversation. "But after that, it was him showing up at my house at dawn, and that was definitely a military thing."

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