First shot ; 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. Where did this mysterious alcohol come from when Haymitch appears to be newly-arrived, you ask? We may never know.

His cheek is still stinging from 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, and a real 'battle', 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 nearest building before forcing himself to his feet and dipping himself in a sloppy bow.]

Haymitch Abernathy, victor of the second Quarter Quell. I come from District 12, home of coal and very little else.. 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.]

Tell me, fellow captives -- how do you feel about the likelihood we'll be forced to kill people we know nearly nothing about in the name of this place's 'freedom'?

Comments

[hungover]

[It's a tributes thing, okay]

Well, you said whiskey was out.

[itase]

Does the whiskey help or hinder the sharp, pointy object skills?

[hungover]

It's a toss up, most of the time.

[It's a heavily biased toss up, though, because usually if you're seeing two of your target it's harder to hit it.]

[itase]

Okaaay. Rate this one on a one to ten scale, with one being 'most true' and ten being 'most false':

People who bring me alcohol don't get stabbed.

[hungover]

...three.

Two, so long as I'm awake.

[Yep.]

[itase]

I can live with those odds. Uh, with some healers near by.

[hungover]

They're pretty damn good odds, I have to say.

[He's not going to be denying anyone bringing him booze, okay.]

[itase]

Yeah. Right up there with malaria. But a party's a party.

[hungover]

[He grins, all teeth.]

As good an attitude as you can have, I'd say.

[itase]

Word.

[And as a quick after thought before she starts actually hunting up some scotch.]

BTW? First time I get stabbed, I'm calling literal divine fury down. Once I'm done with the bleeding and pathetic sobbing bit and all.

[hungover]

At least you're good enough to admit that the pathetic sobbing is nearly inevitable.

[itase]

I don't invest in no-run eyeliner for kicks.

[hungover]

Smart.