r u n //rabbit// r u n [Cameron; blitz]

Though he'd actually gone to the dining hall in search of a bottle of white wine to fix the absence of alcohol that Arbor's evening had sadly contained, he found it entirely empty aside from a few stray pickings left from what earlier had been a buffet table. He paced around the large cafeteria, not entirely sure what he was looking for — some liquor cabinet? But he recalled that the avoxes had always brought everything — dinner, breakfast, dessert, any sort of drink Arbor's mind could concoct, though he usually stuck with straight whiskey — directly from the kitchen when they were serving meals.

He tried the double doors, but was quite disappointed to find them locked. The kitchen inside was dark, and sadly there was no discernible locking mechanism for him to pick, or for him to kid himself that he knew how to pick it, especially at three-thirty in the morning. On tiptoes, he tried to peer though one of the porthole windows, though everything was dark — perhaps it was just tinted? There was no way any building in the Capitol would ever shut down its food preparation for any period of time; there was simply too much to do for the next day. Being from the Seam originally, Arbor was anything but a culinary conissoure, yet the simple logistics of feeding hundreds upon hundreds of people dictated that there be an around-the-clock kitchen staff.

In fact, a noise that he'd thought originated from the kitchen confirmed this theory. A smug grin spread across his face, because even though he hadn't been able to get any booze as he'd come down here for, it did mean he was right. He wheeled around, considering snatching up a roll or two to nibble on back up in his room, but was startled to see someone standing there. It wasn't an avox, he could tell by the absence of servant robes, so Arbor stopped himself from asking if the door to the kitchen for some liquor. He couldn't place where this guy was from, though he did seem familiar.

"If you're after the booze too, it's all locked up," he warned, as if there was absolutely nothing else that anyone would possibly be after at this hour. "Unfortunately." Unable to come up with who this could possibly be — too young to be one of the victors before him, too rugged looking to be a stylist — or what they could be after, he posed an indirect question at the stranger: "Unless you're here for something else…?"