Nick (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
fuckitall) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2015-11-10 09:35 pm
fuckitall) wrote in thecapitol2015-11-10 09:35 pm
Entry tags:
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?"
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?"
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He missed this, he missed being in a bed that wasn't his own but Nick had been understandably depressed with the losses he's suffered. Hell, he hasn't seen his world's Nick and Rochelle come back from the Arena...and it broke the young man's heart that he and Coach would carry on. "Sugar, I haven't seen ya in a while, talk to me?"
They have each other now, right?
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What can he say? He was feeling a bit adventurous. He should have been well and truly annoyed that he'd lost again, but he was getting more sponsors after killing both James and the dragon. That, at least, took the sting off being betrayed by Sandy.
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"Dude, is it true you've got a cocktail with mayonnaise in it?"
Some men might be horribly offended at having a cocktail named after them involving mayonnaise in any way, shape, or form, but those men weren't Kousuke Nitou. Mayo liquor sounded pretty good right about now.
Let's handwave this to immediately after Cullen wins, if you're fine with that!
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.
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"You're back." Relief hits him like a wave. Ellis is the first face he's seen since the end of the arena so there are others that need to be accounted for, but experience has taught him that even having just one other person around means he's not alone. He's not the last man standing because he shouldn't be.
"Thank god," he says with a low voice, just loud enough for Ellis to hear. "Thank fuckin' god."
Just moments ago he was annoyed at having to be on the job but right now it's a good distraction to keep himself from hitting another low point. It takes him only a few seconds to mix together Ellis's drink.
"Here. It's on me." Nick slides the drink over for Ellis to take before putting his hand over the mechanic's first. The crowd might pick up soon.
"You okay?"
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"Somethin' not from the menu then?" At the very least, Nick is given the freedom to create his own concoctions whenever a customer asks for something different. He's always wanted to do some sort of experimentation with this back home but...alcohol was expensive.
He looks at the inventory to consider his options. Normally, he'd just want the customer to tell him their order and he'll make it in a flash. The challenge right now is welcomed just to keep himself distracted even just a few seconds longer. Eventually, Nick whips up and slides over to Ermac a bitter cocktail that's a pale in orange color. Apricot bitter with a good amount of tequila and garnished with thin strips of orange peel.
"Too bad you've lost." The words are spoken with a notably uncomfortable frown. He was told by management to say that to every returning tribute he'd come across while on the job. "Enjoy."
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"Yeah, it's named after you actually." Nick has only made it twice and both times were during training.
"Comin' right up. You'd be the first to try." Maybe the only to try...outside Nick himself during those test trials. It was...something that he probably would drink a few times on a dare in college.
Nick can keep himself at a professional level of neutralism or just be uninterested when at work, but he can't help but make a face as he squeezes a string of mayo on the plate to rim the glass with.
"There a story behind the mayonnaise thing?" He asks as he pours shots of liquor into the shaker.
Yep! And ahahaha, this is great! Been wanting to get to know this guy.
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?"
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And oh, that question. "I dunno, man, I just like mayonnaise. That's pretty much all there is to it."
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The loss didn't particularly bother him. He was still alive, and that meant another chance at winning. If he became a Mentor, then he might be in a more suitable position to find whatever means they'd used to bring him here in the first place.
Ermac tries the drink, and finds it very much to his liking.
"What is this one named?"
Awesome!!! And same to you!
"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."
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El could see farther than the survivor who was given a raw deal: he saw a friend, and a lover who could croon his way into anything he asked out of him. He's heard Nick laugh and that was the most wonderful sound in Panem, and he's heard his silent mourning.
"I'm fine, but yer not, are ya?" he inquired with a lot of worry in his behavior. "Are ya sure you hafta work?"
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"I don't know how I'm doin'," he replies honestly, with apathy weighing down his words. Otherwise, he'd quirk an eyebrow at Ellis for assuming he's not okay...and the other isn't wrong for assuming that anyhow. He pulls away from the touch to serve some water for a customer that just asked for it before walking back to Ellis. "I'm stuck here for another few hours though."
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He blinks at the question, gaze looking down at the mixers he has in front of him. He was on autopilot. Shit, what did he do?
"Man, I don't even remember. You're the one - " Ack, no. That's no way to talk at work. Fuck. He looks back at his assortment and picks up what feels like the last thing he touched. "Orange...somethin'...You like apricot? That's what it was."
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Nick shakes up the ingredients and pours in a margarita glass, garnishing it with a toothpick of some masked thing he isn't familiar with, but is trained to present it with this drink.
"Here you go." He's actually curious if the guy would like it. Granted, the drink's named after him but...still.
no subject
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.
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There is no hesitation as he takes a big swig of that drink. None whatsoever. "Hey, that's not bad! Could use a little more mayo in there, though."
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He'd never heard of the term, or at least had never had a reason to ask his many souls about it. Now that they were silent, he couldn't sift through their memories for so much as a hint of what this fruit -he assumed it was a fruit- was.
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He makes his way to the bar, vaguely remembering that Nick works here. He smiles to see the guy, even if he doesn't quite seem to be paying attention. "Hey. Got any recommendations?" He nods toward the menu, one eyebrow raised. "You come up with any a' those?"
He sorely hopes not--he'd thought better of the guy. Then again, everyone had to do terrible things to get by here; putting weird drink names on a menu wouldn't be nearly the worst.
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"I don't mind waitin' for ya." As if he couldn't mortify the man enough.