I get dizzy when I think of all the ways we try to hide our maladies [OPEN]

[capitolprivilege]

Who| Stephen and anyone who isn't actively participating in the break-in!
What| A big, big party to celebrate the soccer match, and also to celebrate Stephen being much less of a disgrace than he was. This is the party that made it into Celebrus, people. The Capitol elite is invited, and so is anyone involved with the Games! ...except for the people Cyrus crossed off the guest list behind Stephen's back.
Where| An event hall in the Capitol
When| Backdated to the Binding plot, the night of the break-in.
Warnings/Notes| Capitol gilding-over of atrocious things. Disney-ified portrayals of the Districts. Avoxes being used as furniture. And what you bring with you.

For having such a short time to plan it, Stephen and Porrim have really outdone themselves. The event hall is round, with a hallway leading to a large, circular, central room and smaller rooms ringing the outside. The main area is half ballroom, half dining area: the dance floor is off to one side, large enough to accommodate anyone who wants to dance, but with the lights low enough to make it feel intimate and un-intimidating even if only a few feel like dancing. The translucent mist that whirls around the area helps with the intimate atmosphere without impeding visibility badly enough to make dancing difficult. The other half of the room is round tables, kept clean and refreshed with food by wait staff who will bring the guests just about anything they ask for. The wait staff are all perfectly groomed, polite, and in possession of their tongues.

The decor is soccer-themed, but soccer as it would have been imagined by the ancient Greeks. Marble statues of athletes (clothed or half-clothed or with strategically carved folds of cloth) are tastefully placed around the low-lit room. The Greco-Roman aesthetic characterizes the whole room: carved pillars hold up the sound system and the tables, embossed vases whose figures are animated adorn the tables as centerpieces, and the wait staff is dressed in sporty chitons and peploses. It's Classically classy, but the sports imagery and the popular dance music that's muted enough in the dining area to allow people to talk make it informal enough to be comfortable.

At even intervals around the center room are twelve doors. Each one has a Roman numeral on it. Step through any one of them and it will take you to a recreation of the corresponding District that's both full of real props and holographic images. The technology isn't as good as Gamemaker illusions and certainly doesn't feel as real as the dream tech, but it can be interacted with, even if it doesn't "feel" real. You can "pick up" a dandelion in District 12 and blow its seeds away. You can run a hand through the water of a District 4 beach and pier and watch the ripples spread. Each District room has comfortable seating, themed food, and appropriately-dressed wait staff; there are even cast members re-enacting District life around the dining areas, giving each room a sense of authenticity. It looks, sounds, smells, and tastes like the District it's imitating, just -- better. Cleaner.

Oh, also, those who participated in the soccer game and won will be given laurel crowns made of solid gold.

District One is a balcony of a manor house, overlooking a perfect view of manicured gardens. You're not outdoors, but it sure feels like it. The tableware is sparkling gold, the chairs made of silky fabric that is a joy to touch but doesn't seem to stain, and being there will make you feel like a prince or princess.

District Two is clearly built into the inside of a mountain. There are broad, open windows, of course, letting in plenty of fresh air, and the walls and floor and ceiling are impeccably carved, but it's all made of natural stone. Outside, down in the valley, you can see Careers and Peacekeepers training.

District Three is a charred husk no, not at all, that would be tasteless. Three looks like Tron: Legacy. Glowing LED lines run through the walls and furniture, and it all looks so clean and spotless it can't be entirely real. The tables are angular, unnatural, and around the dining area are color-changing glow pools.

District Four is a broad pier that juts out from a beach into the ocean. The sand is real, but the water is not -- don't worry, you won't ruin your clothes if you fall in! The sun is setting, painting the sky beautiful colors, and there's no mistaking that sea-salt smell. Off to the side, attractive fishermen and fisherwomen work to bring in the seafood the Capitol enjoys so much. Rough-hewn but splinterless wooden tables and comfortable canvas chairs are on the pier, with an awning above to keep the sun off. Part of the pier is made of glass, so you can look down and watch the tiny fish as they swim around.

District Five is a power plant, but an elegant one. Lightning crackles across the walls and ceiling, leaping between metal rods in a dazzling display. But don't worry: it's not real. You can touch it if you want. It'll cling to your fingers for a few seconds before sparking out. The hum it makes is quiet and unobtrusive white noise.

District Six is lovely, if Stephen does say so himself. It's a series of luxuriously-furnished train cars, with realistic-looking, picturesque scenery rushing past that reflects the geography of all twelve Districts. The floor hums gently; it feels like you're really moving. In one of the train cars can be found one District 6 Mentor, Linden Lockhearst -- usually. He's been part of the party's marketing: he has promised to, at this party, disprove fortune-telling completely. Come talk to him! You'll be surprised at what he can tell you about you. ♥

District Seven is a tree house! It's about a hundred feet up in the crisp, pine-fresh air, affording a gorgeous view of the surrounding forest. Birds sing, deer frolic below, and stunningly attractive lumberjacks can be seen going past, hard at work. They're also very attractive. Look, Stephen and Porrim planned this party -- what did you expect? Go watch the lumberjacks. It's worth it.

District Eight is artistic. It's divided into sections, almost mazelike, with walls made of cloth, but it's kept from feeling claustrophobic by the fact that the ceiling -- also made of cloth -- looks like the sky. No, really. Clouds are scudding across it, blown in the same direction as the light breeze that flows through the room, keeping it from feeling stuffy. The cloth walls are similarly illusory: touch them and they feel real, but projected onto them are broad plains with great lakes not too far distant. The chairs and tables are all cloth and wooden frames.

District Nine is grain. It's hard to make grain interesting, but Stephen's given it his best shot. This is the room with the most open-air feel. Grain, amber waves of it, as far as the eye can see. There's a trick to this room: walk out into the grain, and you won't hit a wall. You're on a moving sidewalk that responds to you, and the holograms will bend to give the illusion of distance between you and the tables in the crop circle in the center of the room. D9's bigger on the inside.

District Ten doesn't have real farm animals. Goodness, no. Too unpredictable, and the smell would detract from the Old West charm of this room. The door leads out onto the expansive porch of a ranch house, where the tables are. It overlooks paddocks of horses and fields of gentle cows. Two or three playful but impeccably trained herding dogs are the only real animals here: they are impeccably clean and will only approach if you call them over. Their handlers in cowboy hats and jeans aren't far away, keeping a watchful eye. Somewhere, Wyatt Earp wants to die.

District Eleven is an idyllic orchard. The apples can be picked and eaten. You won't be punished for stealing food, because you're from the Capitol! Ha, ha. The wait staff is dressed as sexy farmers, with straw hats and coverall-shorts and plaid shirts artistically tied up, talking in easygoing drawls. It's all very charming, like it's right out of Song of the Goddamn South. This is some unfortunate fucking shit.

District Twelve is probably the most ordinary out of all the rooms. The feel is of small-town Appalachia. Coal miners with impressive arms can be seen going to and from work along dirt tracks that wind between the little houses, a man plays a banjo and sings a little ways off, and pine-covered mountains rise in the distance. The food is rustic but delicious: warm baked bread, goat cheese and strawberries, roast goose with herbs -- you wish you lived in this dystopia.

Oh, and one more thing... In the main room, there are statues that are dressed more classically. Togas, chitons, flowy robes, bangles, sandals -- they're holding trays of food, trays of drinks, baskets of bread and fruit, all classically beautiful, all with -- very realistic-looking hair and eyes, now that you're thinking about it -- oh god they're moving. Cyrus Reagan has been involved in the planning of this party from the start, and he's BUTTED IN put a few of his own touches on it without talking it over with Stephen. Hand-picking Avoxes for their looks, dressing them up, and commanding them to stand perfectly still so they can be the tables, he felt, fit the theme perfectly.

Comments

Emily | Open

[conifer]

Parties certainly aren't Emily's thing, and Capitolite gatherings even more so, but she figures she should put in an appearance, to try to shake off a little of the antisocial picture the magazines like to paint of her, knowing that her District need all the good publicity they can get at the moment. She's pretty appalled by the idyllic image of District Seven given in the room dedicated to it, and wonders how many of the party goers believe this is what it's really like there, biting her tongue as they coo over the deer and eye up the lumberjacks, keeping her responses to any questions she's asked as concise as possible, focusing on trivial details such as the smell of the trees and the quality of the lumber they exported. After a while it becomes all too much for her, she finds herself at once repulsed by the display and feeling incredibly homesick even at the Capitol's ridiculous imitation of Seven, and wanders back out to see what else is on offer.

She has to pass through the central area as quickly as she can, as soon as she realises that there are Avoxes everywhere, serving as nothing more than human furniture. Emily's grown accustomed to the ones serving in the District Seven suite, but they always serve to creep her out, especially in large numbers, and she feels uncomfortable and guilty that that's her default reaction rather than pity for them. She makes a line for one of the other doors, picking one seemingly at random, hoping for something a little quieter, but knowing that at a party thrown by Stephen Reagan, quiet is unlikely.

She's absolutely taken aback, then, when she goes through the District Nine door and finds herself surrounded by fields of grain as far as the eye can see, gently waving in the breeze. It feels like they stretch on forever, as though the horizon is something intangible and the Capitol is worlds away. The irony of feeling as though she's a bird without a cage for once in the middle of a Capitol holographic projection is not lost on her, but she'll take what little she can get. She also finds that she doesn't particularly care that District Nine is probably being misrepresented as badly as District Seven was, something that also sits very uncomfortably within her. She's learning a lot about the sort of person she really is since she came back to the Capitol, and none of it is pleasant to her.

[lex_paciferat]

He encounters her in the District Seven room, having to smile at the look on her face as he takes a sip from the fruity cocktail he'd snagged--too sweet for his tastes, but this sort of thing is easier to deal with with a drink in hand.

"Sure isn't how I remember it, either."

[conifer]

"In a way, it's probably a good thing." Even if her expression dictates that she's entirely less than thrilled. "We'd only have to deal with Capitolites swarming the District for their holidays if it looked like this."

[lex_paciferat]

"I don't think they'd be able to take it for long, even if it did look like this. They'd spend one day in the woods and start freaking out over getting dirt on their clothes and having nowhere to fix their makeup." He chuckles.

[conifer]

She laughs along with him as she envisions it, knowing that most Capitolites would never hack it for a day out in the real world. "We'd never get any work done with it like this, either." She glances across at the lumberjacks. "Far too distracting."

[lex_paciferat]

"If the women looked and dressed like this our forces wouldn't get anything done there either."

As he speaks, a woman happens to catch his eye--a Capitolite dressed in a pink robe, with jewel-studded hair and gaudy makeup. It's someone he recognizes from his early days in the city, a sight that elicits memories of being embarrassingly drunk and flirtatious, and when she sees him and starts to move towards him with a smile he finds himself fumbling for Emily's hand.

"You mind pretending to dance with me for a second?"

[conifer]

Emily jerks away as he reaches for her hand, her first thought being that he's going to handcuff and lead her away. She looks baffled as to why he'd want to dance with her, and then she looks over and sees the woman, then looks back at Quintus, amused. "You don't seem her type at all. Okay, sure."

[lex_paciferat]

"I'm not," he agrees, leading her out of the room and back towards the dance floor, his grip gentle yet firm. "Bit of a four-drink mistake a few years back, if you know what I mean."

The song that happens to be playing is forgivingly slow, and as he shifts into position, his other hand finding the small of her back, he does indeed pretend to dance--swaying back and forth rather than following any steps. Partner dancing is a skill that, for all his travels, he never bothered to pick up. He supposes he was just never that romantic.

[conifer]

"I do, but not through personal experience thankfully." She'd never really gone through the 'trashed and sleeping around' phase, being whored out for Snow had killed any desire to participate in that part of Capitol culture. She's not too good at dancing either, rhythm not coming naturally to her, and steps back and forth rather awkwardly, glancing around to make sure no one's staring at them too much.

[lex_paciferat]

"You do seem too responsible for that kind of thing." He smiles, tugging her a tad closer in order to direct her more easily to the beat of the music. "I wish I'd been. I think after dealing with my injuries and all I felt like I owed myself some fun. After a while I just got sick of the hangovers."

[conifer]

Her eyes linger on the scar across his face as he mentions his injuries, and tentatively she raises a hand to stroke gently across it, fingertips following the line of the scar over his cheek. After a few seconds she realises what she's doing, quickly withdrawing her hand as though recoiling, her face red with embarrassment.

"I guess it all depends on your definition of fun. Though I suppose your job's one where you'd want to let off some steam."

[lex_paciferat]

He twitches slightly at the contact, his smile dropping, but doesn't take hold of her hand to stop her. The reconstruction of his face hadn't been perfect, the innervation patchy, and so the sensation of her fingertips is as though over thawing skin--numbed near his lips and more palpable towards his ear. When the blush rises to his cheeks it only serves to make his scar more obvious, the thin, light line demarcating what he lost.

"Couldn't act like that now if I wanted to," he says, glancing past her. "Burden of having a public face. The media's always biting at my heels."

[conifer]

"At least they're not snooping after you for a story the whole time. That's one part of being a Victor that I'm never going to get used to." She manages something of a smile as she forces herself to look back at him. "Thank you for the work you do. It's nice to know there's a shield between me and the reporters."

[contrarianlibrarian]

The holographs are the most appealing part of the party for someone like China. For one, it's simply technology she will never tire of. For another, it keeps most of the people she doesn't want to talk to distracted so she can pick and choose conversation.

Spotting Emily in the District Nine room, China doesn't consider that others may want to avoid people as well. She glides over to the young woman, who has, for better or for worse, been deemed suitable company in China's mind.

She inhales and beams. "It's beautiful, isn't it? I'm finding myself more impressed with Stephen."

[conifer]

"He's really outdone himself," Emily has to admit. Stephen had produced a first rate party and hadn't managed to disgrace himself at it so far - something for which Emily had kept him at arm's length in the past, as much as she liked him.

She gazes around the field, for the moment able to pretend to herself that it really does go on forever, watching the way the corn ripples as she brushes her hand along the stalks. "I've never seen anything like this."

[contrarianlibrarian]

"I suppose you can't stray for long when you have Cyrus as a brother." Though they didn't keep much in touch, China's opinion of Cyrus has tended to be pretty high through the years.

"Neither have I. I don't believe I ever traveled to District Nine." She leans in a little closer and lowers her voice, smiling conspiratorially. "I doubt reality could impress after this."

[conifer]

Emily's never met Cyrus personally, but she finds anyone so high up in government rather intimidating, and sympathises with Stephen greatly.

"I saw it on my Victory Tour, but my memories of a lot of the Districts blend together." That was something she always felt bad about, especially given how strongly she felt about impressing her own District on people, but not bad enough to really rectify it. "The Capitol's brought out the very best of the Districts tonight," she replies diplomatically. "I doubt any of them could live up to this portrayal."

[contrarianlibrarian]

She nods. "Yes, it certainly did. Do you have a favorite room?"

Who wouldn't be curious about the opinion of a Districter on this? China knows that it's a little unfair to ask, but she's never let fairness or regard for other people stand in the way of satisfying her whims of curiosity.

[conifer]

"I rather like this one." She's aware that it probably sounds silly and a little sad, with the room being so empty and probably boring to most people. "It's so strange to feel like it's stretching on forever, but in a good way. District Four's lovely too, I've never seen the ocean." Although again she was sure it was nothing like the real thing.

[contrarianlibrarian]

China nods slowly. "It is beautiful. I myself prefer a few more walls around me, but there is something appealing about seeing so much space and openness." She's not going to say freedom, nope.

"The ocean? I've heard it actually smells rather terrible. We're lucky to see the watered down version, I suppose."

[conifer]

"I suppose fish do smell awful," she agrees reluctantly, a little disappointed that the marvellous image the Capitol had painted is being stripped away, rather than relieved to consider the reality, as she feels she ought to be. "What about you? Any room in particular you're drawn to?"

[contrarianlibrarian]

"District One is lovely, of course." Which was probably the predictable answer for any Capitolite. What could she say, she could never give up fine tastes.

She considers a moment, then nods firmly. "Overall, I would have to choose District Ten, though; I'm very partial to horses, even if they are somewhat filthy."

[conifer]

Emily's eyes widen in a childish wonder. "You've ridden them before?"

[contrarianlibrarian]

"I'm not usually the type to get my hands dirty, but yes." Horses are probably the one exception.

"A family friend invited us to ride once. They're very interesting animals."

[conifer]

"Does it feel like flying when you go fast on them?" She'd always imagined it to be so. She's aware that her questions match the simple excitement on her face, but she doesn't care particularly right now.