my head's under water

[sizeofyourbaggage]

Who| Sam Wilson and OPEN + closed threads for Initiate, Bucky, and Porrim
What| finding friends and trying to find his state of mind
Where| In the lobby of the Tribute Tower
When| After Sam’s death in the arena
Warnings/Notes| Discussions of death, violence, nightmares, and PTSD; will update with others if needed! Prompts for closed threads in the comments.


On the way up from where he’d woken up to the district suites, Sam’d noticed the blanket and pillow fort occupying part of the lobby. He’d passed it by then, because he wasn’t quite suited for company yet. He’d practically let Arya kill him, and he knows it, and he’s still not balanced enough to honestly be able to tell if it was because he refused to kill a little girl just to keep himself alive for a little bit longer, or if he was just that messed up at the moment.

Sam needed to get himself sorted, as much as he could, and once he was, he had people he needed to check on.

But a day or so after his return, he’s back down in the lobby, checking it out. He looks around for anyone who might be using it, or who’s nearby, so he can head over to them to ask who’d built it, or if they wouldn’t mind some company.

If he can’t find anyone, he’ll just make himself at home, until someone joins him or asks what he thinks he’s doing.

Comments

[earthborn]

"Watch the arena, eat food, schmooze. Buy people gifts with my savings and put little notes in'em," That last thrown in with a grin around the neck of her bottle, "The notes are free if you buy a sponsor gift."

There was more to the arenas than fight or die, even when they'd been for native children. They subsisted on public funds, were too expensive to do otherwise, but much of what offset that came from advertising and extravagant betting. And sponsor gifts.

"I like to put little stars on mine, it's good for morale."

[sizeofyourbaggage]

Sam nods, considering. He can do that. Ask Porrim and Azula for some more advice, maybe. He’s already been working with them to try to get his own sponsors, and that seems to have worked out pretty damn well. He can do the same for the few friends he’s got left in there, at least then it won’t feel completely like he’s sitting out here being useless.

Then she adds on the bit about the stars, and his expression lights up a little, grinning wide. “That was you? Those were great. I stuck ‘em up in my spot in the cave, made all my allies jealous. I didn’t realize you knew Barton or Barnes.”

[earthborn]

"Glad to be of service."

A toast, Sam, to you, to your stars, and to your ability to turn a narrative profit on a few hundred credits and some marker-pen. Truly an inspiration.

"I've had dealings with Rogers from the day he showed up. It's not formal, but we look out for one another, in there," There was a great deal one could say about the merits of having Captain Steve Rogers at your back, but Shepard only shrugged, "He gave me a heads up about Barnes, back when there was two of 'em. I dunno, his history reads like some kind of wrecking ball, but we get along just fine. He's cute, like somebody lost a puppy."

Exactly like a puppy, really, right down to the hairdo and the big wet eyes.

"Barton's another story-- but I was friends with Romanov, more or less, so I figure anybody she's that attached to has to have some merit. I once watched that guy get taken down by a nine year old dressed like a pink cupcake. Embarrassing as hell, but he wouldn't remember that."

[sizeofyourbaggage]

He does his best. Sam toasts back, taking a long pull from his bottle before he nods a little.

“I’ll remember that.” Formal or not, anyone that has that kind of arrangement with Steve can count on it from Sam, too. He chuckles a little at Shepard’s comment about Bucky. “A lost puppy or a stray cat, depending on his mood.”

There’s no mistaking the fondness underneath the teasing tone of his voice, though. Or the way his eyes tighten a little with grief when she mentions Natasha. He’d try to hide it a little more if he was talking to someone who might use it against him, but he doesn’t think that’s the case here.

But it doesn’t mean he wants to talk all that much about Natasha, not when he’s still in this first stage of denial, so he slides past that to focus on the much more entertaining piece of information there. “You serious? When was this?”

[earthborn]

"First arena I participated in, looked like CandyLand on acid," Her smork faded, when she recalled the details. Damn it, Thane, "Everyone was up in...frills, and lace and lycra? I was watching this kid's back for her, and she said she wanted to try and go for him, so..."

She spread her hands to indicate her own helplessness in the matter.

"Caught him by surprise, and then she stuck a knife him. The kid didn't even break a sweat, it was damned impressive. She's gone now, though, or I'd introduce you."

[sizeofyourbaggage]

He's almost sorry he asked, when it makes her smile fade. He'd appreciated the light-hearted almost-bickering; he hadn't meant to bring up something to bring that down.

Sam's not sure 'impressive' is the word he'd use. Well, maybe it would be if the person this kid had stuck a knife into wasn't Clint, or if Sam himself hadn't just let himself get killed by a little girl.

Yeah, now he's definitely regretting asking.

"CandyLand on acid," he repeats, going for the bit he actually knows how to reply to. "Kind of makes space station and wilderness seem tame by comparison, they usually go for the more out there stuff?"

[earthborn]

"When I first got here, I holed up for a week in my room, looking at old tribute information, betting stats, actual arena footage, if it existed-you'd be surprised how little people give a damn about archiving this stuff, even when it used to happen just once, annually," The Victor who won would still be alive when his or her worst nightmares faded not only from public view, but from public record, lost somewhere in the endangered section of the public library's by appointment only deep records, "Used to be, just variations on wilderness, more or less. Sometimes they'd get a little creative, but always the arena would at least fake something natural. It was more subtle before the 'neverending quell'. I'd say what you've seen is more about nostalgia than anything else."

Nostalgia, and a budget. It was easier to co-opt your death traps out of existing foliage than to build them from the ground up-- and if you were building them it was cheaper to simply build them than to do that and then have to fake a version of nature on top. But Shepard had no legitimate way of knowing that budget might be a factor, so instead she shrugged, and said nothing.

"That time, though, I came in third. You ever look up the records, Sam?"

[sizeofyourbaggage]

Sam tilts his head in acknowledgement, making a little face. "Yeah, they sure seemed pretty damn eager to talk about this arena being like the good old days." The rest of that doesn't surprise him at all. The Capitol seemed all about trends, swarming around whatever was in their face at the moment. Back when it'd been a different batch every year, of course they'd stop caring about old tributes and their information.

"Some of it, yeah. Mostly stuff from before this neverending shit started." And not a lot of the footage. It's not that Sam's squeamish - he's seen worse, and he'll see worse again. He'd just been more concerned with the Capitol and learning about the games themselves than watching kids kill each other.

He gives a half shrug. "I don't watch the more recent footage, if I can help it."

[earthborn]

"Here's some trivia for you-- call it homework," she offered him a vague explanatory gesture, "Look up who won the Seventy-Fifth Hunger Games, the first time they brought any of us in. Interesting stuff."

You get too seditious, it inspires unwelcome inquiry. But all the same, there was no masking that little fact. It was rare for a first-timer to win the Hunger Games, expect in one case. When everyone was new, as had once been the norm, someone new had to win, inevitably. And the very first outworld Victor? Well, now that was a claim to fame. That was a selling point, if ever there was one.

"That seems like a common enough choice. Not the way I do things, but everyone's got their threshold," She took a long pull from her bottle, and sighed, "So, you're from the same world as Rogers and the rest of them. Tell me about it; how'd you guys meet?"

[sizeofyourbaggage]

"Seventy-fifth, I'll remember that. Gonna give me a reason why, or will I know it when I do?" He'll look it up even if she doesn't tell him - he's curious, and she's given him no reason not to trust her, especially when he knows that Kurloz trusts her. He's still gotta ask, though.

He smiles slightly at that 'common choice' comment. "Oh, it's probably gonna bite me in the ass someday. But I'm not used to knowing shit like what goes on in the games about people without them trusting me enough to tell me themselves, and I'd like to keep that up as long as possible. I'm an idealist, what can I say."

Then he chuckles, smile turning into a grin. Seems like everyone wants to know how he met Steve Rogers, but it's not like he can blame them. "Rogers and I ran the same route in the mornings, and he was a jackass about it. Romanoff had a really fantastic car and the best supply of terrible jokes. The rest of them, I didn't really meet until I got here."

[earthborn]

Shepard drank again, as if considering. She knew what he'd find, after all, right there in the list of Victors, and impossible to deny if he managed to find the footage of the actual event. Who had won the Seventy-Fifth Hunger Games, the first of the Neverending Quell?

Jane Shepard.

"You'll know it when you see it," She decided, finally, and resolved to say no more on the subject, to wait until he came back to her, wiser than before, "So you really are friends, not just... from the same part of town, so to speak. That's interesting."

[sizeofyourbaggage]

"Yes ma'am." And he doesn't even say it sarcastically. He'll make a note that she didn't elaborate, because it says something about the kind of thing she's sending him to look up, but he isn't going to push more than that.

Her comment about Steve and him being friends makes him smile a little, an automatic but brief flash of affection. "Yeah, we are. At least me and Steve and me and Natasha, anyway."

Sam'd call himself friends with the rest of the people here from their world as well, but before they were all here, he'd have put them in the 'from the same part of town' category, so he doesn't really think that counts.

[earthborn]

"Sounds like a hell of story. Why don't you tell me about it?"

[sizeofyourbaggage]

His smile widens a little at her question, because sure, why not. He’s always up for story time. “Steve followed me around on my morning run, sassing me and trying to show me up like the punk he is, but he stayed to chat after. Then Nat comes rolling up in this drop dead gorgeous piece of machinery, and it was love at first sight.“ He pauses briefly, mostly for effect, then adds, “And Nat was pretty damn good herself, she could sass Steve with the best of them.”

He shakes his head a little. “They turned up on my doorstep later, covered in soot and telling me everyone was trying to kill them, and I never could turn away a pair of strays that pathetic looking. I’m just a softy.”