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Date & Time: Saturday night!
Location: The Cascade Lounge
Characters: Haymitch and [open]
Summary: What are we doing tonight, Brain? The same thing we do every night.
Warnings: ...trying to take over the world? No, nothing actually. Haymitch being himself is warning enough.

[No matter where he was, there was one thing he could rely on (other than himself) -- alcohol. Sure, he spent most of his nights drinking at home alone ... but he'd started to think that he needed more information about this place, and the easiest way to get that would just be to sit around and wait for people to come to him.

A lonely drunk at the bar is the perfect potential conversation partner, right?

Right. At least he's been quiet and hasn't started any fights with anyone ... yet..]

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So you either convince them you've turned over a new leaf and you're a harmless butterfly, or you make yourself useful enough that they can't justify roasting you.

[He grins toothily.]

Or you slink around in the shadows, but that's a lot less fun.

[Meg grins at that.]

What do you think the chances are they'll believe I'm a harmless butterfly?

[As she asks she drags her fingertip up and down his arm. She's just teasing, but the point is made.]

Well, you could always fake a brain injury.

[He raises an eyebrow. Women touching him is a relatively rare thing, so he'll just laugh it off.]

And I'm guessing you aren't a fan of 'lay low'.

[Meg sighed.]

Not a fan, but it's been my life for the last couple of years back home.

[She's gotten pretty good at it.]

Did you at least get to be drunk for most of it?

[That makes sitting complacently for years a little more tolerable - he should know.]

You know what?

I can't get drunk. It would take a whole lot more than this.

[She shakes her empty glass.]

[Haymitch looks skeptical.]

Why not?

I'm not exactly what you'd call 'human'.

[She is in part. Sort of. Depends on how you look at it.]

[The only 'not-exactly humans' he knows are Mutts. Haymitch tenses slightly.]

That's real general, princess.

Well, I wouldn't want to scare you. I was enjoying our conversation.

[He just ... well, raises an eyebrow and tries to shake off that tenseness.]

Try me. I've seen plenty of strange things.

[All the Mutts the Capitol had come up with over the years ... yeah, he's seen a lot.]

[Some people don't even know what demons are, so what the hell.]

I'm a demon. Try not to wet your pants over it.

[Whether religion exists in Panem is never explicitly stated or even hinted at, but ... well.

He sips his drink thoughtfully.]

And what's that mean, as far as you're concerned?

It doesn't mean anything. It means I'm on one side and some people are on another.

That's the way it always is. Doesn't matter if you're a demon, a human or an angel.

Exactly. All the rest is just -- details.

Strengths and weaknesses.

[She smiles.]

I knew I'd like you from the moment I set eyes on you.

One of the few and far between, then.

[You'll like him less once he throws up on you.]

Hard to believe.

[He better not throw up on her.]

I'm just out of my natural habitat.

[Turns out you're less miserable when you're not constantly surrounded with reminders of your failure.

He makes no promises.]

That makes two of us.

[She finishes her drink and puts her glass down.]

Though it's nice to know not everyone I meet is going to be after my head.

[There's a very short list of things she could do to make him want her head. She doesn't know Snow, she isn't taking away his booze, and she's not threatening his 'kids' so far. And she stole alcohol that she's sharing with him. That wins her major points.]

Consider us friendly, even.

[She smiles.]

I'm glad to hear that.

[And he had quite an attractive smile, when he decided to put it on.]

I could use a good drinking partner now and again.

[Women smiling at him isn't exactly the norm, but it's a lot harder to be nice to people who're painted and primped and squeezed into their expensive ball gowns to gawk at him and look down at him.]

Oh, I think I could manage that.

[The only thing Meg is squeezed into are her jeans, but she sure looks good in them!]

Good.

[It was nice to know she could get along with some people here. What she needed was more than drinking partners, though. She needed allies.]

[Haymitch might not look it, but he isn't the worst ally to have. He's good at talking his way out of things, and he's good with a knife -- persistent, too, which was always a plus.

She's probably safe so long as she doesn't try to kill him without a good reason.]

So, what's your take on this place? The people who are supposedly running it?