thecapitol | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Who| Alpha and OPEN
What| Alpha's pissy and drinking.
Where| A bar, quiet and focused on drinking.
When| Post Arena, Pre-Lockdown
Warnings/Notes| Standard Alpha warnings, in particular homicidal thoughts, otherwise none so far.

There was a part of Alpha, a few parts actually, that were starting to suspect that the Games were all some big plot to humiliate him for all to see. It would explain a lot. He pondered this possibility darkly, along with the problem of Ballard, not to mention the problem of Howard.

And, as always, the ever-present issue of not being where he needed to be. These problems and more, since multi-tasking was a necessary skill of Alpha's, he considered while he sat at the bar in the first dive he could find where nobody would bother him for autograph's or what have you, nursing a tumbler and glaring moodily at the rows of bottles on the wall.

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Lindsey wasn't offended. He really was confident and figured, if a werewolf had the power to change, Lindsey would have his magic back too.

"Oh, I don't," he said smiling in a way that let Alpha figure what exactly he was answering to. "But it's just a game, right?" He held up his glass in gesture for a toast. "Until the knifing starts, let's just drink at the bar."

Alpha inclined his head and raised his glass. "To the fragile truce before a new game. And," he added, a sharp edge to his smile, "May the odds be in our favor."

"I'll drink to that," Lindsey answered, clinking his glass against Alpha's in a brief touch. "But forgive me if I prefer the odds to be in my favor." Chuckling, he took a sip of his tumbler then settled it back down.

Alpha tipped the glass back for a long drink, then winked at Lindsey. "I always say it's good to have honesty in a relationship. Means it's healthy, stable. I see you in the Arena, I think I'll carve out your eyes, but for now," he knocked back the rest of his drink and raised a hand at the bartender, "Let's say this round's on me. I can spare it." He's not so much bragging as curious as to how far this Lindsey's flippancy goes.

"Then thanks for the drink," Lindsey answered, not at all shaken or revolted by the supposed killer before him. He didn't even care all that much that the guy had just threatened to take his eyeballs for souvenirs.

"Next time will be on me then," he continued smoothly, "After the next arena. Wouldn't bet on you getting my eyes though. I have a nasty habit of beheading people who get too close. Absolutely nasty."

"Ha! I'll keep that in mind." Alpha had to admit, he was feeling rather more cheerful than he had when he came in. He now had a target for the next Arena, for one. "I'll keep an eye out for some nice long distance weapons next time."

It was a worthy challenge, and if Lindsey had his way, he'll find a way to get out on top even then. Finishing his first drink, he called for another now that he got treated to one. "I'll say. Anything that can shoot to kill is always a good weapon. May the best tribute win."

Alpha refrained from saying 'I intend to' but only just. Instead he tipped his glass towards Lindsey again and used that as an excuse to take another drink. "Not my preferred weapon, of course, but sometimes you simply have to make allowances for the situation."

"Be adaptable, it's a good motto," Lindsey quipped back cockily with a surefire attitude. He finished the rest of his drink and motioned for the Avox for a refill. He didn't even look at the poor mute man who served him.

"So, what is your preferred weapon, may I ask?"

Alpha stared at his glass, briefly, remembering when he could lie about anything, his name, his preferences, and there was only a handful of people on the planet who could figure it out. Here they broadcast his name on billboard sized screens. Here, he had to limit his lies. "A blade," he said, shaking off that bit off ennui. "Anything sharp, really, doesn't have to be too long. Motion of the ocean and all that. You? Axes, the easier to decapitate with?"

"Broadsword," Lindsey corrected, knowing that there was already information out there on him about that. Especially after his magical display of gaining his preferred weapon in the last arena.

"I'm not a fan of axes. They're messy.... and one killed me in mt first arena." Here he smiled broadly at the irony of it.

"Broadsword, of course. You've got...medieval tastes, don't you?" And a medieval sense of the world, considering his earlier talk of werewolves.

Lindsey shrugged, not that he was going to refute the observation. "They work," he said simply. He came from a world where shooting things weren't as effective as decapitating or dicing them, so he preferred a broadsword. "It's easier to afford than silver bullets too."

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