thecapitol | The past, the present, and the future walked into the bar. (It was tense.)

Who| Nick and youuu.
What| ALL HIS FRIENDS ARE DEAAAAAAD. Are yours too? Come have a drink!
Where| Know Where Bar aka where Nick works as a bartender.
When| Before the Crowning
Warnings/Notes| It's Nick. He's depressing, but he'll make you all the drinks you want! So uh, drinking? Also see this post here if you want your character on the menu! (As a drink...)

Back to work at the Shit Hole. That's not the name of the bar he's been working at but Nick has come to refer to it by different names depending on his mood or the crowd. There's a couple of television screens at the bar for him to see the last moments of the arena as it unfolded, but as soon as the last of them got taken out, he just numbed himself to prepare for the worst. The slew of customers have either been over enthused fans (who still tip Nick...for some reason) or incoming mourners and he feels pretty messed up to hope that Ellis and the others are part of the latter group. He just needs to see some friendly face.

...because all he knows from his previous life is truly gone. Luke's gone. He always came back before in times of doubt or when hope seemed to have dimmed out entirely. But now, he's gone just like Jane and Clementine are. Nick had a feeling especially when he heard nothing from Luke when he received his sponsor gifts, but he has yet to come across most of the people he's come to call his friends since he saw them perish on screen. Work hours have been getting in the way, with more and more customers piling in from the arena hype to enjoy the updated menu of cocktails named after celebrities. Some he doesn't get, others he sneers at...but it's mostly just a few dozen more recipes he's gotta remember in his head.

Since his life seems to be adding up to become some elaborate joke where the punch line is "all your friends are dead haha!" work has been referred to as the Shit Hole. Tips - the majority of his earnings, have been abysmal the past couple of but he doesn't care. He is never one to drink on the job but he did sneak two shots during his break. It's nowhere near enough for him to be outright drunk but just enough for him to get through the day.

Nick frowns at his reflection from the glass he's cleaning before letting out a sigh. Five more hours to go before he can head back to his room to try to sleep. He hears the door open but doesn't look up as he slides the menu over, his voice dry.

"Welcome to Bar (fucking) Know Where. What can I get for you?"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Sigma remembers Clementine well - she was one of the first casualties of his reign as Gamemaker, and one of the reasons Sigma drank. Surrounded by an entourage of Peacekeepers, one must wonder why a Gamemaker would come to a Tribute-backed bar so soon after sipping some of the finest celebratory champagnes in the Capitol, but Sigma does as Sigma pleases. Today, Sigma wants to sleep well for the first time in a lifetime.

He peruses the drink menu silently before gesturing to his own namesake. "Anything but that one," he growls. "And I do mean anything. I'd be amused to see what you would serve a Gamemaker, provided it wasn't rat poison." In other words, surprise him. Sigma smirks to himself, knowing where he stood. It was surprisingly easy to get used to being hated - especially so when a word against him would land one in jail, at best.

Edited 2015-11-12 03:06 (UTC)

Nick doesn't pay too much attention to the news around here unless he's forced to. The only time he can be seen with his face glued to the screen is when he's anxiously keeping an eye on those who are still in the game. Once they are out of the picture too, he would turn away and deal with the guilt of not being able to do more than hope that he'd see them again. Nick has fallen victim to arena hazards so much that there had been a montage of his grisly deaths.

Needless to say, his expression doesn't change much when he looks up at Sigma after he finishes talking, his tone sarcastic at best.

"Don't worry, rat poison's on back order."

Nick sets off to mix the man something strong. Less is more, in this case, as he mixes up something he learned from a classmate from way back when and sets it in front of the older man.

"Did you wanted to start a tab?"

Sigma is surprisingly appreciative of Nick's wit. He knew at once this was a man unwilling to put on an act, and that relieved him - he was tired of watching and wearing masks. Sigma waits patiently as the bartender mixes his drink, eyes on his lap, almost meditative. He was always afraid to be outside of the Gamemaker's tower, and even there had the atmosphere of a viper's den. It grew increasingly difficult to relax without alcohol.

"Please," he answers kindly. When the cloudy glass is set in front of him, Sigma lifts his head and raises a scrutinous eyebrow. Champagne and... something. He hadn't been paying attention as to not interpret each flourish as the tipping of chemicals into his glass - that was a job for his peacekeepers, and they hadn't said anything. "This is something I have not tried," he comments. In all of his infinite lives he had never thought to use champagne in a cocktail.

The drink appraised, Sigma lifts it to his lips and sips slowly. A smile spreads over his face in time with the sensation of alcohol burning in his throat - and he sighs. More bitter than sweet, but still somehow pleasant. He's going to get very drunk tonight. Great! "I like it. Thank you." Where Plutarch was frank and sharp, Sigma was genuine. "You must have a great deal of experience to know what a customer wants before they do."

Edited 2015-11-17 20:17 (UTC)

Well, now Nick's crooking a brow over at him as he hits some buttons on the screen to open a tab. Damn. He wasn't expecting Sigma to actually enjoy it. Nick can down some heavy drinks himself but even a simple concoction like this one (with a name that he has literally experienced, go figure) wouldn't exactly be his first choice.

Sigma sounds polite but Nick has met a lot of people in this world and the one before that talk in a similar way, with the last one he knew ended up becoming one of the worst things that happened to him and his group. He doesn't intend to let his guard down any time soon.

"No problem." Normally, he'd brush that compliment off as the coincidence (which it mostly is), but... "I figure somethin' simple like a Death in the Afternoon works for what just happened."

He glances over at one of the many television screens showing Cullen as the last man standing before looking back at Sigma, staring at him hard.

"You enjoying it so far?" The Games that is. He's paid to ask every customer that isn't a tribute such things but after everything he's been through, it's the closest he can get to vent out his anger on somebody without starting a scene.

Even if he wanted to, he's damn well too tired, too beaten down to try anyway.

The past, the present, and the future walked into the bar. (It was tense.)

Let's handwave this to immediately after Cullen wins, if you're fine with that!

Yep! And ahahaha, this is great! Been wanting to get to know this guy.

Awesome!!! And same to you!

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