When you own the world, you're always home.

[streetsmarts]

Who| Nick and OPEN
What| Fresh in from the zombie apocalypse.
Where| D7 suits, Commons bar, through the halls.
When| 11/01, ish.
Warnings| Sexual stuff in some of the threads.

It was over. Done. Done like dinner. After a goddamn marathon of bullshit, after continuous strife and disappointment, their asses were safe. That doesn't mean Nick isn't in a mild state of panic when he arrives. You spend a while attached at the hip with some mouthy assholes, you kind of notice the silence when they're gone. The fact that they'd come so far to be separated isn't as much of a relief as he'd thought it would be. He could use Rochelle to tell him to snap out of it right now, but instead he has weird looking guards devoid of emotional response regardless of his questions.

If they think he's bad, they should meet Ellis.

It becomes abundantly clear that this isn't some quarantine facility. This isn't the Thunderdome of the apocalypse, and somehow that makes it weirder. His chest is still tight with uncertainty and fear, but he hasn't really processed all of the information he's been spoon fed just yet.

D7 suites: It's hard to be angry when he's lead to the lavish suites and left the fuck alone. His grubby suit doesn't suit the fine decor, and that becomes abundantly clear as he catches his reflection in the reflective surface of a window. He visibly crinkles his nose, and he can't be looking anything but himself at this point.

"Rough.." He mutters, brushing off his front like it'll do him any good at this rate. Whatever. He's bone tired and the couch looks all too appealing, so he's sinking back onto it with his dirty shoes propped on the arm of it. He's already lounging around like he owns the place, but he couldn't care less about what anyone thinks. Hell, he hasn't seen anyone to be dismissive of yet. Not anyone who seems to care what he thinks, at least.

Lobby Bar: After lounging, Nick finds something to change into. He almost wants to keep his suit on for how little he wants to be caught dead in jeans and a button up, but the stink of months of fighting zombies is far more notable when you're removed from the situation.

He's had a shower, he's clean and he's ready to scope out what the Capitol has to offer. He's headed out to the streets when the bar catches the corner of his eye and well, one drink couldn't hurt, right? He makes his way to the bar and orders, and his desperation probably obvious from the way he slams the drink down. One drink becomes a couple and he's starting to become curious, he eyes people nearby and decides to approach them every so often.

"If you've been here longer than an hour, you could really put my mind at ease here." He says smoothly, trying to come off as someone in need of sympathy without compromising himself too much. "I'm having some technical difficulties here." He taps his head to demonstrate this. "Is it meant to come off like some weird fever dream? 'Cause I can't be sick. I use hand sanitizer religiously."

Through the halls: Now that he's had a few drinks, he figures he might leave wandering the Capitol for some other time. Instead, he'll work from the ground up. He pokes around the floors of the towers, but it's getting to be night and it's getting to be quiet. He's in his own head, mulling over how impossible all of this crap here, wondering where the other assholes got to and pretty much any sudden noise could have him lurching to the side. He reaches for a gun that isn't there before he forces himself to calm down, shoulders slumping a little when he does.

"I'm never gonna grow out of that." He groans mournfully, his heart still racing in his chest. He's going to be thinking about the Infected for a long, long time.

Comments

[streetsmarts]

"Good. I can consider that factor of my life done and finally goddamn dusted." No more boomers, no more tanks, no more whateverthefuck else they call those ungodly, huge zombies that took all the firepower they had to take down. This guy looks like a bullet or two would be more than enough, if aimed right.

Is it normal to think of kill plans for people you've just met? Nick thinks so.

"What are your kind anyway? I've never seen anything like you, and I've seen some weird shit." And now he can't help himself, so artfully he must ask: "Do you all talk like that too, or did you have a stroke?"

[carnagecarnival]

"Ha, no," He laughs, lifting a brow. "DIALECT'S BEING INDIGO. Fluctuations being voodoo. CALL OF STROKE GETS OF INSULT DONE BUT I'LL LET YOU PASS THE FUCK ON AT FOR THAT ONCE SINCE ALL I'M BEING IN MOOD FAVORABLE. Other trolls get talk on what he would assume the mother fucking preferential done." His arms fold.

"BY MOTHERFUCKING BY, I'D NOT BE ALL DUSTING YET. Capitol takes fancy to dredging up what you ain't want dredging for. RAISING UP THINGS LONG DEAD, YO. Make you motherfucking face that noise unpleasant and let 'em give good cheer."

Best to warn now before a motherfucker got being too hopeful. Even if this ninja don't quite strike up as the hopeful type.

[streetsmarts]

Nick's first thought is that indigo is a colour not a dialect, but he feels like he's probably pushing it telling this alien equivalent to a Tank how wrong he is about everything. He should just let him have this and appreciate that he isn't being grabbed by the leg and flung around like a ragdoll.

It's a thought that leads nicely into the information Initiate is sharing, he almost visibly pales at the idea of facing down Infected while fighting off all the other assholes wanting an out.

"Wonderful." He scoffs bitterly, looking notably more dour at the idea of it. "I'm more than used to the concept of a not so permanent death, believe me. If anything I should warn you that they're liable to start bringing in a whole bunch of peachy new things to be scared of if they're going to fuck with me." He flourishes a hand in a pointed, sarcastic expression of excitement, but curiosity is chewing at him. "Ever heard of Infected? Zombies? The undead? Would you say that shit is.. uh. Prevalent?"

[carnagecarnival]

"DAYWALKERS?" He tries, looking amused. "You're another one of them humans what got all dealing upon infestations, ain't you? WOULD BE AT OF WONDER FOR IT TO TURN OF HAILING PLAGUE OR ENDS BUT I FIGURE A MOTHERFUCKER AIN'T KNOW." All in all, not much more tact than asking why Nick didn't personally know how the zombie problem got so out of control.

He laughs, "It's been the fuck around." He shakes his head. "LUCK TO BE THE FUCK OF YOU, CAPITOL AIN'T DOWN FOR PERFORMANCE REPETITIVE. Rounds had up already for living what ain't and dead not either. WON'T BE APT TO DO IT UP AGAIN, THEY." Those things certainly hadn't been like no troll daywalkers, even if they still struck enough for him to name them that way. Just as he's sure others around got to do.

"Course, there be still them what become on death natural. CYCLES WHAT BE."

[streetsmarts]

Again, Nick opens his mouth to correct Initiate. Daywalkers is wrong, but he's cluing into some slight cultural differences here. What bothers him more is that there are others, humans, who've dealt with infestations.

"Guess it's just as much of an epidemic as I thought it was. We'd have it under control if more people washed their hands, I can tell you that much." He just rolls his eyes at the concept of humanity being at fault for it, because it's not wrong. Humans are gross, but something is more important. "So, these people? Any names for me?" He's hesitant to give out his friend's names willingly, but it'll make it easier. "Do the names Ellis, Rochelle or Coach ring any bells?" To his credit, he tries not to look too worried, his tone and expression are mild.

He is, however, relieved to hear that. "I'll take some new colour and movement over the same old bullshit, that's for sure." Not that he isn't a little worried about what the Arenas might provide, but if he's learned anything over the past few weeks it's that he's more capable than he gives himself credit for.

[carnagecarnival]

"Sorry Bro, Ain't not--" He stops. Wait a second. Wait a fucking second. He stares on past nick and starts to squint with recollection. "ACTUALLY," He continues, "THERE WAS BEING THIS ONE MOTHERFUCKER. He was in my district he up and was. ASKED AS HOW I GOT TO SPEAK AND PUNCHED ME IN THE MOTHERFUCKING FACE." A truly unpleasant expression crosses over his features at the memory. He's got no sign of it now of course, but he still can't say he was being any sort of fond.

He huffs and folds his arms over his chest. With a shake of his head, he says, "He ain't around none no more. DON'T THINK AT HE MADE IT OUT OF CORNUCOPIA. None else though. AIN'T NEVER BEEN NONE OTHER OF THEM NAMES AS I'M TO BE KNOWING." There goes that good mood. Well, it had a good life, didn't it all.

"As all for everyone else, hear like there's a whole motherfucking lot of them. EVEN GOT BEING A DAYWALKER PROPER HERE AT ONE POINT, BUT HE'S BEING GONE TOO. Motherfucker named Joel's being of them undead amusmitivities , but I doubt as a brother to get much more word all at from him. BETH'S ANOTHER. Clementine, Luke, Nick. LOTS MORE."

[streetsmarts]

Nick, to his credit, listens patiently as Initiate summarizes a bunch of crap he couldn't care less about. "Doesn't sound like anyone I know." He muses, even Ellis isn't that aggressive, even if he's definitely that stupid.

He gives Initiate a gormless look as he goes on, waiting until he's entirely finished with everything he's saying. Nick has the patience of a gnat and the entitlement of a prince, so it's a wonder he hasn't outright told Initiate to shut up when he heaps all of this legitimately helpful information on him.

"Alright. I don't know any of those people, so we can move on to what matters here. One, people don't come back from the what? The Cornucopia?" He counts off one on his fingers, moving to count two as he speaks. "Are you telling me they brought an honest to god zombie in here to compete? How the hell did that work?"

[carnagecarnival]

"Not even on making tell like his name was being Ellis?" He says. But then he shrugs. Could be other motherfuckers what got the name samelike.

"NAW BRO. Ninjas ain't be coming back when all Capitol decides not to get return on of them. CORNUCOPIA'S JUST ABOUT THE MOTHERFUCKING BLOODBATH. Start of the arena, where deaths is to go down garunteed, yo. CAN DIE ANY TIME UP IN IT AND NOT GET NO RETURN." Cheery.

"Don't know how the daywalker worked. MIRACLES. Think his name was 'R'. MANAGED AT TO CLAIM SOME SENTIENCE BUT... well, motherfucker had to eat sometime up in arena. THEY GAVE HIM A MUZZLE UP OUTSIDE IT, IF I'M RECALLING RIGHTLY. Sounded like a shitty gig as to be kicking."

[streetsmarts]

"What." He says for probably the millionth time. "If his name was Ellis, why didn't you say that to begin with?" He half hisses that out, entirely aware that Initiate probably did say as much and he just ignored him. "Did he had a weird accent? Dumb face? A cap?"

He sounds a little frantic. "So he was here before and now he's just.. Gone? Gone for good? Like he wasn't even here?" There's no way to confirm or deny that it was actually Ellis, but he's lost interest in the story of the mildly coherent zombie for now.

[carnagecarnival]

"GET A SLOW ON THERE, BROTHER. Rivers got rush be flowing too fucking fast. GOING TO WASH MESSAGE MEANINGFUL RIGHT ON AWAY," He says, holding his hands up. He should've expected this sort of reaction. Even despite how all the motherfucker got speaking casual like he ain't had a care to him.

"He was here, cap and means on talking different as them of panem," He says, slow and placating, but still enough as the details is getting out. "HE GOT HIS ASS GONE, CAPITOL DON'T KEEP NO SIGNS OF MOTHERFUCKERS LOST. Our place of stay gets easy replacing. MIGHT BRING THE MOTHERFUCKER BACK BUT THEY MIGHT ALL NOT. It's all by whim and what they want at to do. BY WHAT GETS OF MEANING TO MOTHERFUCKING ENTERTAIN. Ain't no knowing yet if at our returns be marked of going back to our world or staying proper dead. SORRY."

[streetsmarts]

"Yeah, that's him." Nick breathes that out slowly, utterly thrown by that little truth bomb. He'd just seen Ellis the other day, he'd just been fighting off zombies with him. The reality of him being dead isn't hard to imagine, but it's hard to comprehend without a body.

So it's easy, in a way, to detach from it. Nick hisses a sigh out through his teeth, shaking his head as he does before simply shrugging. "It is what it is." And it's his problem, not something he's getting into with a stranger. "I bet you get used to it around here." It's phrased like a question, even if it's a statement, and he cocks a brow at Initiate.

[carnagecarnival]

He can't say he misses a motherfucker what he didn't know but for wild accusations and punch in the face. What good he's dug and had dug up out of him still don't stretch that far as to be giving care for the ninja.

But he can get sympathies up and on. Get work wicked respects and all. Especially if a brother's going to be taking it so well as he seems to be. And he can answer simple question as that.

"You do," He says." IN A WAY. Depends on who and how you is. BUT IF YOU GOT STRENGTH FOR BEARING YOU'LL GET ON THE MOTHERFUCK BY. Especially if you ain't got no attachments done too strong, though I'd not advise going without entire. CAPITOL WANTS DRAMATIC NOISE AS TO BE GETTING CLAMOR UP OVER. More you got, more you stay." No, not keeping for anyone so simple as 'nicety' or 'sanity'. He's not that naive for that working on others.

[streetsmarts]

"I'm used to it by now." He says in a final tone, rising up to the vague measure Initiate places. "Most everyone I know is dead. It's how it is back home, guess that's how it is here." He pulls a face, because he can practically taste the bitterness in his tone when he talks.

"Yeah, I heard they want a show. They want the whole damn sundae bar here." He shakes his head. "I got acting experience in spades. Guess the only other thing I got to worry about is guys your size." He offers Initiate a half-hearted smirk. He knows he said he's the tallest guy here, but he can't help making a joke. "You ain't so bad, pal. I run into you? I probably won't run you through with whatever pointy thing I get my hands on. Alright?" It's a risky claim to make, but he's so relieved to talk to someone who isn't full of shit that he's willing to grant him that much.

The way he talks annoys him, but what he's saying doesn't. He can respect that.

[carnagecarnival]

He nods along. "I HEAR YOU. Whole lot of dying back where I was at too." Though he, admittedly, isn't quite as bitter about it as Nick might be. He's got no ties to Alternia, at least not anymore. But Messiahs help him if he lost anyone here.

Motherfucker's a joker. He grins back and he can't help laughing over his so very merciful maybe-sparing.

"CALLED THE INITIATE," He says. "And yeah, sounds as like a deal good what I could be sticking by. THANKS UPON THE GENEROSITY BESTOWED, BROTHER. You work them acting skills of yours, you're gonna be fuckin set, you is."

[streetsmarts]

"Nick." He retorts curtly, offering the name with a wary air. He can't help being sparse with personal details, even if he feels like everything is going to get laid on the table fairly soon.

He scoffs at the response and he nods, stepping back from Initiate as he talks. "You better hope you're right, buddy. Else I'm gonna be real pissed." He turns fully now, starting off down the hallway for any lone District Seven Escort to find him.