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01 video.
[ The feed flickers on, and the camera noisily jostles, the hands holding it trembling faintly, but not out of fear. The man that appears on the screen, ragged as he is, looks as far from fear as he can be. In fact, he's even mildly annoyed, instead, his face sporting a few bruises here and there. ]
Well, isn't this just cozy.
[ A rather unimpressed smirk twists over his lips. ]
Expected where I was going to be a lot less... formal. You know, the ritzy carpet here and the beds. Nice welcoming committee-- screaming ghost children. I think I like that one best. Really... authentic.
[ The styling of this place would make Effie Trinket sob. Even he finds it gaudy. He looks off screen for a moment, as if examining something (an empty flask), the clink of a metal lid being unscrewed, a scoff. As if he didn't both look and sound annoyed enough already. ]
I'm going to need to know a couple of things. One, has anyone gotten together any plans and information to get out of this place, or we all just going to sit and play patty-cake until something goes bump in the night? And two -- a drink. Something strong. I've run out, and I'm going to need another very soon, the way things are here.
[ Not that he would trust many (if any) of them, but better to use them for what they know now if it will help him and his get out of this place. Of course he's probably more concerned than he looks, but there's not a point in letting them see him sweat. Not when there doesn't appear to be any outright danger, but that is most concerning of all, of course. ]
Well, isn't this just cozy.
[ A rather unimpressed smirk twists over his lips. ]
Expected where I was going to be a lot less... formal. You know, the ritzy carpet here and the beds. Nice welcoming committee-- screaming ghost children. I think I like that one best. Really... authentic.
[ The styling of this place would make Effie Trinket sob. Even he finds it gaudy. He looks off screen for a moment, as if examining something (an empty flask), the clink of a metal lid being unscrewed, a scoff. As if he didn't both look and sound annoyed enough already. ]
I'm going to need to know a couple of things. One, has anyone gotten together any plans and information to get out of this place, or we all just going to sit and play patty-cake until something goes bump in the night? And two -- a drink. Something strong. I've run out, and I'm going to need another very soon, the way things are here.
[ Not that he would trust many (if any) of them, but better to use them for what they know now if it will help him and his get out of this place. Of course he's probably more concerned than he looks, but there's not a point in letting them see him sweat. Not when there doesn't appear to be any outright danger, but that is most concerning of all, of course. ]
action!
Glad to see you pay in advance. [ Of course he takes up his place, eyeing the candy bar skeptically before he opens it, breaking it in half, offering the other half to his opponent. ] Go on then, explain the rules. I'm guessing it's violent, this game.
Re: action!
He raises an eyebrow at the explain the rules but he's gathered different people from different places.]
It's a game of distractions and learning how to read your opponent.
[He picks up a ship] You put your ships on the board in different places. I can't see it. I call out coordinates on the board, B-7, C-12. If it's a hit.
[he puts a little red marker in the battleship] It's a hit. If not, it's a miss.
no subject
You had me at distractions. All seems easy enough. And as long as you don't keel over and bleed all over the place, should be entertaining at least.
[ He takes a bite of his candybar as he arranges the ships on the board. How many times had a Game Maker done this very thing? ] At least the candy's good.
no subject
If you're willing to play with me you can come over anytime.
[Can he even watch for the other man's impressions? He wonders. Is he sick? Hurting in some fashion?]
I'm trying to ration out the candy bars for when the food runs out.
no subject
Playing board games in a ratty hotel we're trapped in. I'm impressed by the irony of it.
[ He shrugs. ] Smart. It inevitably will, too. [ Which may or may not be the very reason he's started stashing away some of the fruit and bread from the breakfast bar. ] Last one standing wins. That's the goal, isn't it? [ Of the board game, but probably in the hotel as well. ]
no subject
Unfortunately.
Or fortunately.
no subject
[ But of course he's right. ] Probably a mix of both. Sounds like you're from a place that was all sunshine and rainbows. [ He couldn't add more sarcasm if he tried. ]
...B-12.
no subject
[Sarcasm responses are interesting. Sunshine and rainbows is a familiar sarcastic note.]
...I worked for a government agency. Then I betrayed them. Then I worked for another organization and I betrayed them.
so now I'm an independent agent. [Honestly.]
no subject
[ Government. This immediately catches his attention, and he glances up, though his expression remains otherwise blank. ]
I'd imagine you are. Not sure anyone wants to be double crossed.
[ But betrayal is all part of the game -- it's the smart way to stay alive, and he can understand that. But an independent agent is more dangerous. ]
I guess you could say I had to work for the government, too. [ What could you call the role of a Victor? A slave? He wasn't that, but they certainly made sure Victors lived in little cages, didn't they? ]
You took the difficult way out.
no subject
I miscalculated. [Trusted the wrong person.] I miscalculated a lot of things.
B-6.
[He moves to stand.] Know how it is, to get to know a ton of people and then lose them?
...Hard to come back from that.
no subject
[ Everything about this reeks of a warning. Government guy turned vigilante twice over. Haymitch should have seen it -- the mention of the gun, the injury from before. ]
Yeah, I do. You never come back.
[ When Ward begins to rise, though, his own fingers twitch. There's little to use as a weapon here -- the game board could hurt, the table could be flipped, the chair over turned -- nothing like the hilt and blade of a knife. ]
You don't strike me as the type of guy who quits. I'm curious to see who wins. C-9. [ He grins, lopsided, all ease despite the myriad of thoughts running through his mind. ]
no subject
[He grimaces] It's not a question of giving up it's a question of changing the game.
[when he returns he rubs at his eyes, setting down two glasses of water one way or another.] ...I made the mistake of letting things get personal.
that won't happen again. G1
no subject
[ He relaxes a tiny bit once the water is offered. ] I'd say if you had something stronger, but, considering... water will do.
[ He relaxes, slouching into his chair, considering the man. ] The moment it gets personal is the moment the people you care about star to die. The moment you prove to the enemy that you're smarter than them? You're a threat, not a pawn.
[ The subject matter isn't great, but at least he can talk on the same level with someone. Difference circumstances, same problem. ]
It will. It always does, whether you like it or not. That's how the game's played. D2.
no subject
[He twists at that.] Hit.
That's not right though. That means dying alone after ripping someone's ribs out of their chest. It...
[The look on his face might be familiar. It's the vaguest look he might have seen on Katniss's face. On Peeta's. Perhaps even on his own. People who are used.]
That's propaganda damn it. It doesn't make sense. G-1.
[he doesn't realize that he's been shouting.]
no subject
[ He knows that look -- has seen it across too many faces -- Katniss, Peeta, the other tributes and victors -- his own. His own voice remains tight, calm; they're speaking the same language all the same. ]
And none of it is meant to be right. So you lose a loved one, a team mate, a friend -- so what?
None of it is supposed to be fair because at the end of the day, you're still alive and well and those people are gone because of you. No matter how many people you have to kill, no matter how you try to run from whatever it is they're telling you to do or not to do -- you'll always end up where you started. Blood on your hands, looking back and wondering how you come out the loser no matter how many times you play the game. We're designed to lose.
[ He downs the glass of water as though it were a shot, unrelenting until the glass is emptied. His voice is quiet, tense. ]
You've sunk one.
no subject
[Man. this guy.] Sounds like you had a mentor.
[He doesn't really mean anything by it. He just closes his eyes and thinks of John. He thinks of John's training and the years he spent working for him. The fathering, the time he got sick and the older man took care of him...
He drags a hand over his face]
...Who am I kidding. We all do. now you take the ship off the board. G-9
no subject
[ But he removes the ship all the same. ]
A mentor? [ Excuse him as he laughs. A mentor, really? Haymitch had nothing but life in the mines before he was thrown head first into the Games -- no mentors or advisers. Twelve had no victors to help him, mentor him. ]
No, I went in blind. Makes it more fun that way.
[ Sort of, not really. ]
no subject
[This is interesting. Really interesting.] I have a feeling we're talking about variations on a theme here. Went in blind to what?
I mean if you feel like sharing. D-1
no subject
[ Does he even bother sharing? No one could really understand, and he doesn't want people getting too close, after all. But a good sob story made allies, and strangely enough, Grant Ward seems like someone he would much prefer have on his side than not. ]
There's a competition put on by the Capitol, The Hunger Games. [ He considers the game board. ] Twelve districts, two chosen at random to fight for their lives. Children, elders, anyone. The one who remains standing after it all, wins, becomes a Victor. Victors become mentors, teach their tributes how to play the game, how to stay alive. I didn't have a mentor. Went in blind.
[ He shrugs, leaning back into his chair, slouching even farther. ] D-3. The game's controlled by game makers, they manipulate the playing field, change things up.
no subject
I was a government spy recruited when I was 15.
[he rubs at his nose.] The guy who trained me worked for a rival spy organization.
[his throat works at that.] Hit. You sunk one.
no subject
[ He shrugs, but the news of a sunken battleship is small room for amusement. ]
I won my Games when I was 16. So we're even. [ Instead of calling another number, he sits back, rubbing furiously at the bridge of his nose. This hangover is turning into withdrawal, he can already feel the slight tremble in his fingertips and that's bad enough. ]
Aren't we both so damn lucky.