First shot; wobbly video

[hungover]

[There is the tell-tale sound of heaving in the background. The communicator is on its side, camera facing a cup of some clear alcohol on ice that's swirling in a tumbler. Shortly after, arguing in the background about the vomiting and about the lack of real money for a tab – something is slammed on the table and footsteps walk away ... before walking back, a thick hand swiping up the communicator before retreating out into the night again.

He'd thought about going straight to the lodgings that the 'Porter' had suggested, but that reeked of a trap and of slaughter – a drink had seemed like just the thing to calm him down, except that he'd already been plenty intoxicated when he'd arrived here. His cheek still stung where Katniss had gouged him, but it was a dull thrum that didn't seem so bad when he couldn't see straight. Eventually, he manages to get the camera upright and gives it a winning grin – or it would be winning, if there wasn't the telltale glisten of vomit on his lower lip. Some might not notice that.]

So, we're in for another Game. Different rules, sure, but – [and he waves his hand toward the camera,] – still. I should introduce myself, if that's the case.

[He makes a mostly-unsuccessful attempt to straighten himself up a little, leaning heavily on the outside wall of the pub.]

Haymitch Abernathy, victor of the second Quarter Quell. I come from District 12, where you can starve to death in safety. This place is at least less of a violent assault on the senses than the Capitol – nobody's hair has made me shield my eyes yet. That's something.

[He produces a flask from his jacket pocket and places it to his lips, tipping it completely upside-down to suck the last few drops from it.]

I'm guessing this place has got more robbers, though. Thieves. Rapists, maybe?

[Off-camera, he looks at something in his hand – a small blade that hadn't been there a moment before.]

Well. Whatever surprises this place has in store, I'm sure everyone here is just as stupid when it comes down to it. Come on, then, let's give the people a show. That's all they really want, anyway.

[And with that, the feed clicks off.]

Comments

video

[aggressiveapathy]

Dance.

Video;

[hungover]

The people want me to fall off the stage again? That's already been done.

So passe.

text;

[futureleader]

Starving to death in safety... that's some real poetic shit you got there mister.

Is mister Nygma starving you?

Video;

[hungover]

You can thank Katniss Everdeen for that one, charming-as-mud though she may be.

Nygma.

[He's certainly not going to reveal that he has no recollection of that name. That would be -- unwise.]

Being as I've just arrived, I can safely say -- not yet.

video

[backstabbing]

[she starts off by pointing at the corner of her lower lip]

You got a little something right there.

[ISABELA. taking everything seriously since 9:30 Dragon.]

But you're right about something. Plenty of robbers and thieves mucking about.

Video;

[hungover]

[He brings a hand to wipe across his mouth.]

More to your liking?

[He raises an eyebrow, though.]

Never any shortage of those -- it just depends whether your government's good at hiding them.

[Or aiding them.]

video

[hellionated]

[ Okay, so this guy's obviously drunk. That's probably why he's talking such shit.

Still, this is a weird way to act when you've just been thrown into another dimension. ]

What people want a show?

Video

[hungover]

[It's true that Haymitch enjoys talking shit when he is drunk.]

Everyone. I've got to say, these hand-held cameras are genius. The Gamemakers would be jealous.

voice;

[baddaboom]

I dunno what kinda games you're used to, buddy, but there's no Snakes and Ladders night 'round here.

Video;

[hungover]

[That gets a laugh out of him.]

Please. Nothing so childish.

voice;

[xenabutagrizzly]

It's not actually a game.

Video;

[hungover]

Or maybe that's just what they want you to think.

[Or ... quite possibly, he's just being drunk and contrary.]

[comesback]

District 12? Where's that?

[hungover]

...northwest of District 11.

[...duh...]

[specifythepoint]

What kind of show?

[hungover]

[He glances off-screen again.]

Most audiences love a little bloodshed. Not sure I'm in a state for it to be fair, of course...but some people enjoy that.

[themisfit]

Perhaps you should have something to eat. If, ah... You can properly keep it down.

[hungover]

It's a little harder to fool a food cart into thinking you've got money than it is to fool a bartender.

[And even though he vaguely remembers hearing about a stipend, the moment that you owe the government something, they can control you.]

[ voice; ]

[excruciate]

You've barely given yourself time to be disappointed.

Video;

[hungover]

[H e h]

I'm always disappointed.

voice

[osreborn]

Now, which games are these again?

Video;

[hungover]

The Hunger Games.

[He pauses, though.]

Apparently they don't exist in this place. That's something, at least.

[Video]

[spacetimeprime]

...are you quite all right?

Video;

[hungover]

That depends on what you mean by 'all right'.

[Most of those who lived in Panem scratched by on 'mostly not starving', after all.]

[enigmaestro]

Oh, an optimist. I love when we get those in.

Welcome to the City.

[hungover]

Just a realist.

A product of my society, as it were.

(voice.)

[ioudas]

Tell me you're not a lightweight.

Video;

[hungover]

Ha.

No.