Drown Your Sorrows In The Sea | OPEN

[earthborn]

Who| Shepard and OPEN
What| That feel when your boyfriend ain't coming back
Where| Various drinking establishments, and also the Tribute center roof
When| A few days after Thane's death in the arena
Warnings/Notes| Talk about death, crude language, spoilers for mass effect maybe

1; A random Bar, or the Foxhole (your choice):

An hour ago, she'd just been getting started. In three, they'd kick her out of here. Half an hour ago, she'd sized up someone else for a barfight-- and only just barely let him go. There he was in the corner, a big guy with his skin dyed a fashionable emerald-green, daisy-yellow shading to his elbows, and lips painted pink. He looked like he lifted weights and masturbated to Arena footage for a hobby; Shepard amused herself by imagining his day job was something menial, like a janitor, or a sewage inspector. Something too important to give to an avox. Something nasty, and difficult, that he couldn't talk about over dinner.

God damn it, it wasn't worth it-- screwing with capitol civilians was a real easy way to get yourself in real deep trouble. But with every shot she had, it was starting to sound like a better idea. Why don't you slide on in here, stranger, and give her a distraction?


2; The Tribute Center Roof:

Shepard was drunk. She was drunk in a way that she hadn't been in a long time-- perhaps ever. She couldn't remember it ever being this bad, not without the assistance of hallucinogens or bloodloss, without that touch of venom to put an extra whirl in an already dizzy world. She was drunk enough, now, that she could think that far without wincing from it.

She'd been kicked out of three bars today, and turned away at a fourth. Even the fucking pillow fort felt too claustrophobic and so she'd abandoned it for the rooftop and bottles of piss-yellow beer. If she were honest, maybe Shepard could admit that some of this wasn't about how much she'd poured down her throat today. Most of it, really-- even the Capitol couldn't completely kill her metabolism, not this close to a revival.

But even if she wanted to be alone, she didn't really. And that pissed her off too-- so have an angry ginger up on the rooftop, Tributes, chucking bottlecaps and glass over the guard-rails and hating her life. Do with that what you will.

Comments

2

[justoutrunyou]

Sandy watched her from the entrance of the roof for a solid five minutes before deciding to come approach. She'd never seen Shepard like this and she knew what had happened.

Whenever Sandy came back from the arena she did her best to lay low for a couple days. Ice cream therapy, working out and watching the arena footage for people she knew.

So when she saw Thane go down and he didn't show up for days later in the Tribute Tower...it was almost as good as an obituary.

That was the problem with arena deaths. No one was ever sure if it was the last one or not until the crowning of the final victor. The only way to be sure was to check their room and see if all their personal effects had been cleared out.

That's how Sandy had found out that Pruna wasn't coming back.

The last time Pruna's room had been cleared out she'd had Effie to cry to. This time Katniss was her closest responsible "Adult" but she hadn't been able to squeeze out a tear. It worried her. She loved Pruna didn't she? They were best friends so why couldn't she cry about it? Why did she feel so numb even a week later?

And so she had finally worked up the nerve to seek out the strongest female role model she had. What she found was...not encouraging.

Shuffling forward she cleared her voice to announce herself while she was well out of reach. She didn't think Shepard would hurt her intentionally but she'd learned from experience that when people were drunk they were sometimes...clumsy? That was a nice word for it.

"Hey Shepard."

[earthborn]

Sandy had good intentions, really, and her suspicions were well founded. Shepard was reactive even under ordinary circumstances-- right now? Even at that distance, she startled, and a mostly-full bottle went tumbling over the edge of the building. It sparked and spat on the force-field, then shattered against the side of the building on the bounce-back. Shepard cussed and threw the cap after it, like she wished it were a bullet, or a grenade. It melted into slag and embedded itself in the sleek decorative molding a few feet below the railing.

"Goddammit..." She had to breathe, more than once, three heaving, angry lungfuls before she could look at Sandy and really see her, "Oh. Hey, kid."

[justoutrunyou]

Sandy winced watching Shepard's bottle fall out of sight. She'd once asked if those force fields were deadly and had been informed that while they would destroy things like bottles human bodies would simply be left stunned and picked up by Peacekeepers. They didn't want any tributes throwing themselves from the roof after all.

"I uh...I'll buy you another?" She offered sheepishly gesturing to a vending machine nearby. Unfortunately the only alcohol on tap in there were cans of bubbling pink champagne, hard lemonade and orange juice mixed with vodka. Nothing as rough as what Shepard had been enjoying.

2

[lex_paciferat]

He was already not too far from the roof, speaking to a few staff members in one of the apartments, when a message popped up on his phone. It was one of his colleagues, letting him know about the situation up there. He made a few inquiries--"is she armed?" "on drugs?"--and then decided that since he was here anyway he might as well check it out himself.

He observed her from a distance for a few moments before approaching, not wanting to get anything tossed at him, and leaned over the railing, watching the bottles strike the force field and collect where it intersected with the side of the building.

"That's going to be a lot to fish out," he remarked, almost casually.

[earthborn]

What Shepard wanted, right now, more than anything, was a soothing layer of pharmaceutical intervention between herself and the world. If she'd had the presence of mind to do so earlier in the day, she'd have tried to find someone who'd sell to her. In the Capitol, as on Illium, very little was illegal, and hedonism was the only rule, aside from capitalist gain.

Ha. Capitolist gain.

Weed wasn't exactly hard to grow, after all, not compared to half the shit they put on the dinnertable around here. But it was too late for that. And, of course, now there's this asshole? No good can come from it.

"Is there some reason you came up here?"

[lex_paciferat]

"Just wanted to make sure you weren't breaking anything valuable. Or anyone." He smiled slightly at her. "You just get back from the Arena?"

2.

[gunshiptotheface]

He knew something was different when he'd returned to the Tribute Center. Seeing the other names that had died in his week confirmed the unsettling suspicion he'd had that something was off.

Going to the roof with a beer had become something of a tradition now, after every death in the arena and waking up in the too crisp sheets of the medical ward. What he hadn't expected to find was an entirely inebriated Shepard. He should've known she'd try to drink herself into oblivion to release some of the stress of knowing her love wasn't going to come back. It wasn't that Garrus didn't remember the last time Thane had died, but this somehow seemed more pitiful in how he'd gone this time.

He'd seen Shepard drunk before, so drunk that she'd wandered into the men's washroom and blacked out on the floor. This was nearing that level of drunk, so he did what any best friend would do. Having a seat beside her and opening his own drink, he reached out and gently moved the half-full bottle of hers away from her.

He didn't say anything, simply sitting beside her, quiet companionship and feeling the loss of their friend and crewmate all over again.

[earthborn]

If it had been anyone else, she'd have broken their bones, starting with the wrist, and moving upward. If it had been anyone else, they'd have been running serious risk of being heaved over into the force-field to fry. If.

Garrus had joined her crew because she had been desperate, and he'd been gutsy and a good shot, and eager to join her blighted operation. He'd always treated her with respect, right from the beginning, even when she'd gone out of her way to needle him. He'd always supported her, always... always been there, since then. No Shepard, without Vakarian. She didn't have to justify herself to him. Didn't have to explain; he just got it, then as now.

"Dammit, Garrus..." she whispered, after the long silence, but meant someone else's name. The right answer was, of course, to make a joke of it. Comment on the heat, or the cold, or laugh at his technique when she wasn't around to back him up. But she couldn't rouse the ease for it, couldn't even turn to look at him, so she just said it again, "Dammit, Garrus."

[gunshiptotheface]

Usually he'd crack a joke, something to lighten the mood, but there wasn't anything he could say that would change what had happened, again. Perhaps it was the fact that it was the second time he'd had to say a final goodbye to Thane. He'd never been very close with the man, but his presence was missed, by more than just the grieving woman beside him.

Taking a mouthful of his drink, he let it sit in his mouth a moment, knowing that Shepard was tearing herself up inside even if she looked like she was only drunk and angry on the outside. It was hard to hide from him, when he knew there were a few of her tells from so many nights they'd spent drinking together after the loss of friends. It was a sobering thought and he settled a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Jane."

2, natch

[aintyourdad]

Really, the only place to be alone in this hell hole was the actual bedrooms. And even there, Joel was pretty sure the Capitol had hidden cameras. The roof could be a close second, but it wasn't a very well-kept secret so there was usually someone else up here wandering around.

Shepard is one of the people Joel actually doesn't mind seeing, though, even when she has that dark look on her face. It doesn't take much more than the reek of booze around her to tell that she's wasted. Which means something happened. Something really bad.

"You shouldn't drink alone," he says by way of greeting.

[earthborn]

"Fuck off," She replied, and considered throwing a bottle at him-- then didn't, but only because it still had some liquid in it. For the moment, anyways.

"Tried that; I'm not wanted," It'd be nice, if that were true, "You don't wanna be around me right now, Joel."

[aintyourdad]

"So what is it, you don't want company or you don't think I want your company?" Joel asks with a quirked eyebrow. "And do I get a beer?"

1 - random bar (I am so sorry)

[a_minute_younger]

Gary Epps may not be the best distraction for Shepard right now.

He arrived only recently, maybe in the past ten minutes--just another guest to this fine establishment, passing through for a drink on his midnight wanderings of the Capitol. There were enough hole-in-the-wall places like this in the city that Gary could pick one at random every night and still find somewhere new. He preferred it that way. Even if his motivations at this point were more to keep himself distracted than just to stay entertained, he enjoyed it all the same.

The people remained the best part. Gary had sat down next to Shepard at the bar knowing full well who she was (see someone's face and name on the television enough and even the most absentminded people will remember them), but so far hasn't had the chance to talk to her. As he understands it, Shepard is a scary motherfucker, who's attention he should not attract until she's good and ready for it. And so far, her eyes have been on some other badass in the corner. Gary watches, sipping on his drink (a 'seaside-summerbliss,' some wine-and-cider concoction he randomly picked from his booze list), waiting for her to order another shot and turn, just enough, so Gary can subtly catch her eye instead.

He casts a quick nod over the rim of his glass at the unfortunate fellow Shepard's been glaring at. "They get weirder all the time, don't they?" Gary murmurs with a quirk of his brow. "What look is that supposed to be, anyways? Mutant houseplant? Muscleman leprechaun?"

Local Kitten Annoys Bullmastiff: Details at six!

[earthborn]

She liked her reputation just the way it was, thank you. A lot of people in this world-- in any world, really-- fell through the cracks. They lived invisibly, Thane had called them dra'la fa, and used them for information on the principle that such things had always existed, would always exist. That they would always be invisible. But people don't miss the noisy threats, and people respect force; fear is the heart of that respect.

Besides, it's true: she really is a scary motherfucker.

Gary Epps, now, he's flown under her radar. She knew who he was with all the surety that she knew who everyone was. Memorizing who had come and gone was a fool's errand, but it helped pass the time, and it gave her an advantage. A couple hundred faces and names, not so bad. But what had he done, really? Made friends with a few friendlies, stood up under subtle threats, and died like the rest. Just another kid-- but here he was. Right under her nose. Trying to buddy up with her.

It was pretty cute, actually. Like a four year old discovering lying for the first time, he seemed only too eager to show off his fledgeling bullshitting skills. Took guts to try it on her, though.

"I think he's tryin' to look pretty," Shepard tossed back the shot, quick and loose; she'll play along, kid, "Isn't that what animals do this time of year? Mating plumage or... some shit."

[a_minute_younger]

Shepard has a strategy and so does Gary, and it's this. Whatever 'this' is; even Gary rarely knows what he plans on doing when he approaches people, apart from knowing that he wants to talk to them, maybe see if he can make them laugh. That's always a good goal, what with how downright salty some of the other Tributes can be. How he gets there is up for debate. Frequently it's up to chance.

Again, this is how Gary prefers it. And so far luck appears to be in his favor. He can go along with this.

"One of those birds that hops up and down and screams a bunch," Gary chuckles, imitating Shepard's drinking technique and knocking back a large gulp from his fancy cocktail glass. This works out better for him than it normally does with his improvised alcohol roulette. "Fuckin' bird of paradise up in this shit. What d'ya think--is it working?"

2

[tookthewheel]

"Commander." Bucky stops a couple feet away from her. It's late but he doesn't sleep much anyway, it's not unusual for him to come up here at this time.

When he'd first spied Shepard he'd been happy to make his way over to her and say hello but upon drawing closer he'd begun to realise that something wasn't right. Closer still and he see's that she is drunk, angry as well. Very different from the last time he was in her company while she was inebriated.

"Is something wrong?" his eyes track the path of the bottlecaps from her hand, over the railing and then vanishing into the night.

[earthborn]

There was something undeniably soothing about someone calling her by rank and title. It was strange, in the broader context-- she wasn't The Commander, not anymore, and yet... Well. It was who she wanted to be. It was the role she'd been meant to fill, stressful as it'd been. Barnes made it easy.

"Barnes," She replied without turning, occupying herself with the all-engrossing task of hucking another bottlecap off the roof and into the forcefield, "No, nothing's wrong. I'm in a tropical vacation, no stress, white beaches, plenty of time to myself. Why would anything be wrong?"

You'll excuse her sarcasm, won't you Bucky? Well, you'll have to, it's all she has for you at the moment.

[tookthewheel]

Luckily by this point he's gotten quite accustomed to dealing with sarcasm, even if he's not adept at using it himself.

"I don't know." he says, not rising to her tone, keeping his voice calm and level. He comes closer to the edge of the roof, though stands a couple feet away to Shepard's side still. "You need to tell me."

The city looks better at night, not so alien. More like somewhere normal, not that he has a good grasp of what normal entails.

II

[voiceinthephone]

Phillip wasn't one to mingle outside the Tower, mostly out of fear of running into the sorts of fans that Sigma warned him about, the psychotic ones. So he went up the roof, where he and Julian spent a good evening drinking. Sure it was cut short by Gray having a panic attack but at least alcohol was drank and maybe a friendship had formed. Seeing Sandy and Jules die in the Arena had knocked the wind right out of him, but more so when he saw Venus' face light up in the sky...on the same weekend he kicked the bucket too. Had he jinxed them? No, he couldn't let that pervasive thought get to him, it was why he was here, seeking peace and quiet from the hustle.

This one was not one of those instances.

He along the rails, sipping that sort of cheap beer the mad woman was chucking out, and quietly observing her before speaking up, "You might wanna throw those away from the windows...never know what might happen with these sorts of altitudes."

Had he known this was the Shepard Sandy had recommended he meet, he would've been more respectful.

[earthborn]

"Yeah, it'd be a shame if I hit someone."

Someone like you, Phil. She might've sent you a gift and a note in the arena, she might even be genuinely grateful for your help with Sandy, but none of that will save you now. Not one life here is worth much of anything to her, in this state.

[voiceinthephone]

"Please don't, I already realized pretty much everything I did...was for nothing," Someone's a little bitter about the outcomes in the games. Nick "Or at least most of it. I just have to get used to seeing play-by-plays."

Before taking another gulp, the guard halfheartedly motioned Shepard to aim a little more to the north if to wave her off.

"Did you lose someone?" that was easy to figure out: no one he knows would freak out so badly over dying.

deux.

[oopsright]

With a bottle of red wine in one hand and a bottle of whiskey in the other, Tess must have had the same idea as Shepard - spending the evening drinking on the roof, keeping away from everyone, mixing her alcohol. Just her and her booze. Not even Joel could stop or interrupt this, this was something she needed. An evening to herself.

Unfortunately it seemed like the rooftop was being occupied and by someone who was being a little rowdy. What a surprise it was for Tess to see that it was Shepard.

"Christ, anyone ever tell you how loud you are?" was her way of greeting the other woman, bottles in hand hanging at her sides as she strolled forward.

[earthborn]

Ordinarily, Shepard would have been happy to clear out. She was a woman who liked her solitude, and knew the value of adding one bottle to another and coming up with a potent sum. Although, just now, maybe she's been having a little too much of addition, and isn't looking for any more.

Or maybe that's just your charming personality, Tess.

"You don't like it, you know where the stairs are, What do you want--" She's slurring, still, and fresh out of sealed bottles, though not quite finished with all the ones she's opened. It's only after she speaks that she turns to squint and... Oh. I know you, "Tess? Shit."

2 - after Terezi's back from the arena

[pythianjudgment]

Terezi hadn't been back for very long. The first thing she'd done upon returning was to bundle herself up in 5 different blankets. That was the amount of warmth that she needed to soak up before she could convince herself to leave her room. It was a good thing that winter was nearly over because she was thoroughly sick of snow and ice.

The second thing that Terezi decided to do was find the roof. Dying in a storm of meteors tended to make one a little paranoid. Being able to smell the sky would hopefully stop her mind from imagining the various different ways that a hunk of space rock could slam through the Tribute Tower and kill her. Which is why Terezi grabs the fluffiest blanket that she can find and drags it up to brave the chilly rooftop air.

She doesn't expect to find company when she gets there--especially not familiar company.

"Wow... You reek," she remarks, an edge of concern in her tone as she alerts the Commander to her presense. She steps a little closer, pulling the red blanket around her tighter. "What happened?"

[earthborn]

"I got drunk," Shepard doesn't miss a beat, even when she's only holding herself up by dint of leaning on the railing that overlooks the sheer drop to the force-field, and the city streets beyond, "Then, I kept drinking. It's not rocket science, Pyrope."

She said it just like that, too, all exaggerated pronunciation, with the pop at the end, pie-roh-puh. The woman wasn't lying about her method for acquiring the aforementioned reek, give her that much.

"What brings you up here. Can't even lose my damn mind without an audience, am I right?"