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Nano + Drunk Stoned or Stupid [A Party Game]

"He just needs 5 more minutes to reclaim his sanity."

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Cat had taken a step back, and -- well -- Nano had too. He wasn't sure what her excuse was, but being under near-constant supervision had made it challenging to slip away long enough to record anything. Nano wondered if Eleven was worried, if the Vox wondered why Pascal and Delphi had gone quiet. And, as much as he hated the sound of his own voice, Nano missed talking on the air, feeling -- for a rare moment or two -- like he was truly heard.

Instead, he was stuck here, editing audio from Hunger Games Museum interviews, following back up where re-recording was needed.

"Yeah, trust me, I'd rather be covered in leeches, stabbing a thirteen-year-old in the chest right now, but I'm on a deadline, and we don't have all week," he droned, making light of it by being disturbingly dark, which was his specialty. "Anyway, mic levels look good. If you could just go from the top one more time, that'd be cool."

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Nano popped another piece into his mouth, trying to see what would happen if he didn't chew. The kernel dissolved in his spit, to his surprise. "Just wondering if I was the only one he told to go fuck themself."

Alders gaze fixed on his popcorn bag. It wasn't that he hadn't been expecting someone to ask him about Slate eventually, but he'd maybe hoped that this would be a lighter moment. "Yeah," he replied, expression drawn. He didn't know what to think about Slate anymore, not after what he'd said to him in his home in Seven. "Yeah, I've talked to him. Why?"

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"Oh-kay," he drew out the word, nodding, clearing his throat awkwardly. Nano eyed her curiously, wondering if it was a bit like Conny had been: Career, but not cutthroat. The thing he expected, and not. Nano spent so much of his life living in the black and white; it was odd to muddle through the grey. Maybe that's what Enna was. Grey. He liked the way that sounded in his head.

"Don't tempt me with a good time," Nano smiled, following contentedly behind. They stumbled up to the booth, a pile of colorful rings stacked high. "After you, miss," he teased, bowing the way she'd said people did for Capitolites.

she shrugged. it had been a point of contention this games more than most, and now Enna didn't know the answer. The reapings said district. Farina said district. she had said district. but Oxford said capitol, her parents said capitol, even peacekeepers and passersby treated her capitol. Even Vox Parva was a capitolite, definitionally. and that was her too.

"I don't even know anymore." she answered honestly, taking a sip of the water, shrugging. "District?" She answered, although it came out a little less certain than it had in the past. "Or maybe Enna. My own thing." a secret thing. a lonely thing.

determined not to get both drunk and sad too close together, Enna nodded, letting him point out the ring toss. it looked easy enough. "Oh, prepare to be as drunk as me." at this point, the glass was about half empty, so he could join her or be left in the dust. she grabbed it off the counter, making her way over to get started playing.

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Nano took a handful from the bag, filling his cheeks with it, surprised at the texture. He chewed awkwardly for a minute, slowly, swallowing before sniffing the remaining bagful. "Huh." It was a lackluster appraisal, but Nano still pulled out another handful, so it was decent enough. "They're like opposites," he noted. "This is all...shape." There wasn't a better term for it. The food was highly structured, hard and sharp even, where the kernels were. "And casseroles have no shape at all. It's just mush." Nano smiled at that, amused by the opposites of their districts, by the joy of sharing something across their siloed district lines (even if it was being poorly appropriated).

"Hey, I was meaning to ask you," Nano said through a mouthful of popcorn. "Have you talked to Slate since he got out?"

Now that he thought about it, he had no idea whether it was a Seven thing, or just something that someone had managed to make work in Seven. Maybe the latter if the Capitol was doling it out? And what about casserole, would they have a ball sometime featuring various casseroles? He didn't know, but it didn't seem out of the question, frankly.

He got enough for the both of them, then, as promised, rounded the back of the booth and dropped down onto the concrete next to some electrical hookups. There was still the hum of machines and the sound of the raucous crowd, but it was more muffled back here, and the lights weren't so bright. "Cheers," he said to Nano, holding out his popcorn bag to tap against Nano's.

He tried a bite then made a face. "Ugh. Not enough salt. And too sweet like everything else here but... I'm hungry, and I'm fucking sick and tired of being out there. Fuck these people." So he took another handful.

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Nano laughed, but it was laced with a thin veil of confusion. "I don't get it. Are you Capitol, or are you district?" He wanted to understand her, to size her up accordingly. Who was she? Who did she claim to be?

"Hey, it's fucking hilarious when sponsors fall for it!" But it was a weak defense, punctuated by more laughter, a shy shrug in place of any real apology. Nano eyed the games, considering which -- if any -- he'd be decent at, and deciding it was a miracle he'd survived an arena at all. "How about the ring toss? Loser has to finish the drink and stomach the hangover."

Enna snickered before she hushed herself. He might seem upset, but it was a little hard to know who was truly safe in a ballroom like this. Slate hadn't introduced them, after all. "They do when you're capitol." she recovered. "it's all hello, Madam. have a good day, miss. nearly gave me a heart attack the first time, I thought I was in trouble." that was the only time peacekeepers talked to orphans, when they needed to be put in line.

oh, it was meant to cause hangovers. Enna was rapidly regretting trusting him. "I'm never taking a drink from you again." she shook her head, intercepting the water from the bartender before he could pass it to Nano, taking a sip. She feigned distrust, but quickly broke into a loose smile.

"I've hit those hoops." She nodded at the question, ignoring - omitting- the fact that she'd lost squarely. "Do you want to pick one? Maybe if I beat you, I'll feel better when I wake up hungover out of my mind tomorrow."

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"It's...uh..." But Nano honestly wasn't sure. "You just like...put shit in a baking dish, really. Pretty sure it's to make things stretch a little further. Canned veggies, mostly. Maybe some chicken, if you can get it. But they also make dessert casseroles, so--" Nano was wracking his mind trying to decipher what it was like to be dolled out a steaming pile of gruel. He'd never really considered how it was made or what it contained before. "I think you put some sort of soup in it? Or like...fuck, I don't know." Three wasn't exactly a culinary oasis, but he did like kringle. He looked blankly at Alder, not really registering. "Must be from Seven?" It sounded like it, like a snack Alder would munch on from ten feet up in a tree or something. "Alright, well, order up. Let's try some."

"What the fuck is a casserole?" he asked, mystified. If he'd heard it in any other context, he'd have sworn it must be a type of hat worn by Capitolites that had gone out of fashion or something.

Alder blinked, then continued to explain kettle corn, which sounded way off from what Nano was picturing, if he had to venture a guess. "No, it's-- it's popcorn. But sweet and salty. Like a dessert."

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"Funny, they don't do much talking when they're on rounds," Nano mused, tone tinging bitter. But Enna had said she was district, so maybe it was okay to show a little dissent.

"That? Oh, shit, that's--" Nano laughed, turning to ask for two waters, holding one out when it came. "Like, entirely alcohol, actually. It's called a Four Horsemen. It's got like four different kinds of liquor, and the morning after you drink it, you feel like death." Nano beamed, proud of the prank he and Link loved to play. "Water probably isn't a bad idea." He took a sip, realizing it was the first water he'd had that night. He pressed his wrist to his cheek, feeling it warm and flushed. "Have you played any of the games yet? They're kinda fun."

"Yeah. I mean, there's a few steps in between, but yeah." that was the long and short of it. "I was busy in three. one of the peacekeepers was a real chatterbox there. didn't have time to talk to anyone else. it's fine."

part of Enna didn't want to waste the drink, but she also didn't really want to drink it again, so she didn't protest when he put it down. "Um... maybe a water? I'm a little... how much alcohol is in one of those things?" however much it was, Enna hadn't drank that much at once before.

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Nano laughed, a hiccuping sound, just a beat longer than a scoff. "Yeah, I know." He hated the tip-toeing, the backtracking, even if it was for good cause. "But you're probably not wrong." That was the worst part: that Nano's fears -- his delusions, as the doctors called them -- weren't that far off.

"Kettle corn?" Nano repeated, shaking his head. "We have corn casserole? Is it like that?" He didn't even care what the food was, really. It was just nice to hide out, to sit and talk.

"Well, I probably can't get us far. You and I probably have undercover Capitol agents or something tailing us at these things." He rubbed the back of his neck, then remembering everything Nano had been through, added, "Kidding. Really."

He wasn't, or at least, he mostly wasn't. He didn't exactly want to put the theory that an escape would be impossible to the test.

He looped his arm around Nano's. "I did find some kettle corn, and the guy there let me hide out behind the stand where it was quiet. You ever had kettle corn? It makes everything better."

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Nano nodded, even though he didn't fully understand at first. "You moved here from Nine to be a stylist?" That seemed highly unusual, but if Cress as involved -- or, rather, her meddling -- then he couldn't rule anything out. "Yeah, yeah, I meant Slate's tour. I was, uh... I was there, in Three, but--" There wasn't a good way to say Slate and I got into a fight backstage about the rebellion, so I dipped, so Nano just shrugged.

"Do you, uh--" Nano glanced down at the rancid drink in his hand, nervously placing it on the bartop, grateful to be rid of it. "Do you want a real drink? Unless you actually liked this one. But-- I mean, I would be kinda scared of you then."

"Yeah, everybody knows cress." That was one thing that was for absolute certain. Enna chuckled, shaking her head. "hey, it's chill. I'm normal, I'm not going to come after you in the night if you disrespect my family crest or anything." The lydonsbees did have one. Enna could never remember it, but she knew they did have one.

"I'm from around here. or nine, first." Maybe and nine would be no accurate. she was from both, after all. "I only started working for her last games, so I wasn't there for her tour. I did get to style her for slate's, though. if... that's what you were talking about? I don't know what you meant." it was funny, usually she was the more uncomfortable person in any given conversation. Nano had a soft energy to him, though. Enna didn't mind it. or maybe he'd just gotten her drunk enough that she wasn't nervous about anything. "I must've missed you in three."

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Nano jumped, not expecting to be spoken to. Most people wouldn't go near him, or they handled him like he'd spent the past three months in a psychiatric institution, which...well, was true. Kid gloves. That's what they all used. Nano could feel the softness of the interactions with others, which contrasted against the coarse handling from sponsors who had no fucking idea how to talk to normal human beings (like come on, read the fucking room). But he liked Denver, even if she was weirdly enthusiastic about all of this: the Games, the arena, the slaughter. "Hey," he recovered (not well). "Just, uh...hanging out." Trying to stay out of the way as long as Nanni was alive. "Didn't realize you'd be here. Is Charon somewhere playing tonsil hockey again?"

Denver was pleased when she saw Nano. He was so quiet, or he had been the few times they had interacted - she wasn't sure if he was the kind of person who would go to a big ball. She was glad he was though.

"Hey there," she said as she approached. "How's it going? How are you?" How are your tributes? was the unasked question. They could see it on the screens. Denver already knew Nano was down to one. She felt bad for the tributes that died in the Bloodbath in a way she hadn't before - they still died with purpose, and she still believed in that, but it was over so quickly. The people who cared about those tributes didn't even get a chance to hope.

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"Do they?" He wouldn't really know. Nano wasn't a drinker, or...he hadn't been, before it all. Really, though, he missed moonshine from Eleven, made by Nettle and dolled out with love. "I'm--" But she said everyone knew him, which made Nano blush, throat bobbing as he swallowed dryly, the movement rough. "Yeah, uh-- I mean, I know who Cress is, obviously, and I know what a stylist is so...if you just put the two....together....then..." Nano took another gulp of the rancid drink, feeling like a fucking idiot who couldn't string two words together to save his life.

"You, uh..." And he wanted to ask her about the districts, about how she knew anything about their drinks. "Are you from One? Or...were you with Cress on the Victory Tour? Feels like the kind of thing she'd care about." How she looked, how beautiful she could be, even surrounded by poverty, even in front of grieving families in a crowd.

"oh." Enna felt dumb, but he was laughing, and after a moment's hesitation she was too. it was a warm kind of laugh, looking at the way he held the cup and took a large gulp. "I mean, it tastes terrible. but all district drinks do." She'd been seventeen when she'd left, plenty old enough to take a shot or two of stuff that felt like pure fire in the throat. it's district nine's finest. she'd been told, and handed another to drink quicker.

"I'm Enna." she introduced, a buzzed smile blooming on her face. she hadn't had all that much to drink volume wise, but it sure had been strong. it was hitting. "I don't think we have, but everyone knows you. I'm Cress's Stylist, that sound familiar to you?"

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Nano blinked, a little fuzzy beneath the haze of alcohol. He wasn't supposed to be drinking on his meds. He knew it. Link knew it. So, naturally, Nano was avoiding Link. "Hey," he smiled, though maybe just the corners turned up. "This shit's the worst." A huff of agreement, and he offered an arm out, sleeve covered with teddy bears stitched to the fabric. "If you can get me the fuck out of here, you win a prize."

"You doing okay?" He hadn't spoken to Nano in a while, but he'd... heard things. Word got around, especially somewhere like the Tower. There was no such thing as private business. "If you ever want an excuse to disappear from this sort of thing for a little while, I'm definitely your guy. I hate this stuff." And, he remembered when he'd felt his most fragile, large crowds tended to make everything he felt a hundred times louder.

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Nano's brows lifted so high that his forehead crinkled, glasses slipping down his nose so that he had to push them up. "Uh--" He cleared his throat, recovering from the shock, impressed and a little aroused that she'd just fucking forced that down. "Um--" Nano cleared his throat, laughing awkwardly, "No. We-- Not in the fucking slightest." And then he shoulders eased, and he was laughing more freely, taking the glass back from her, slinging back a gulp so she didn't have to suffer alone. It was awful. He struggled now to spit it on the ground. "It's shit. My sister and I prank sponsors with it. I don't--" He didn't understand. He'd never met a Capitolite who could even swallow this trash once. "Are you... Sorry, who are you? Have we met?"

"oh, really?" Enna took it, not bothering to sniff at it first. He was a victor, and they didn't know each other. why would he have any reason to lie to her? so she took a big, hearty drink, choking as it poured down her throat in a huge gulp. still, she kept drinking, only able to finish a third of the glass before her reserves were dried up and she literally couldn't choke down any more.

"You can chug all of that in three?" she asked, impressed and still gagging slightly. "wow."

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THIS CHRISTMAS dir. Preston A. Whitmore II

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It was always easier to stomach these things with a prank or a drink, and Nano was pretty sure he wasn't exactly supposed to indulge in either. But if he was going to make it through this cycle without offing anyone (himself included), he was going to do whatever the fuck he wanted and deal with the repercussions at a later time. "Delicacy from Three," Nano said, voice easy, nonchalant. He offered the glass out, brows lifting. "You chug it. Gives you a rush."

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"What are you drinking?" Enna asked, because she'd been eying it curiously for awhile. it was a big heaping glass of brown, and Enna was fairly certain it wasn't one of those drinks that were highlighted on the themed menu. "Any good?"