thecapitol | Oh, this is the night and the heavens are right on this lovely Bella Notte

Oh, this is the night and the heavens are right on this lovely Bella Notte

Who| Everyone who signed up for blind dating!
What| An evening of romance, or disaster, take your pick.
Where| The Swift Cut restaurant
When| 16th June
Warnings/Notes| The course of true love never did run smooth. Remember that if your character was not rolled in arena but you signed up for them to be here, you will need to mark their death on fatality reporting.

The atmosphere at the Swift Cut this evening is bustling. It's clear from the moment one enters the restaurant that they have pulled all the stops out for this televised extravaganza.

Every fire is lit and the air is filled with the scent of the roasting meat on spits over the flames; boar, beef, pork, venison and more. Pots bubble with the smell of hot stew, vegetables are being roasted in ovens and from giant casks around the room beer is being drawn. The staff are in full 'barbarian' getup, consisting of skimpy furs on both the male and the female servers but luckily for you they don't seem to expect a similar dress code from their guests.

Tribute's stylists may have had other ideas, of course.

The giant room has been clearly divided. Tribute's will find themselves directed to one side while trueborn citizens of Panem and petitioned out individuals are brought to the other. It is left up to them to find their table with the number they will be handed upon entering the restaurant. Whether they are the first to arrive at their table is a matter of chance but they can be sure that a cameraman will always be there to capture the moment of realisation on both participants faces when they realise who their date is.

Once everyone is seated the music will begin the play. Minstrels strum lutes and harps, their voices filling the air softly with traditional medieval ballads. There is a space set aside for dancing if anyone is in the mood.

Throughout the evening, and certainly at the end, Tribute's and Capitolites will find themselves sporadically approached by the show host to be asked questions about how they feel the evening is going. It's up to them how honestly they answer, though they should remember the camera's are always watching.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It hadn't been all too hard to convince Porrim to sign up for a blind date for charity; even though she's pretty sure that 'charity' is actually the Capitol's coffers, she's also in a weird enough place in her love life that hell, it can't hurt.

Can it?

She waltzes into the Swift Cut wearing a dress that, while not exactly in keeping with the theme of the place, is still rather eye-catching. It's a floor length black velvet gown with a plunging neckline that shows off the fact that yes, those tattoos do travel all across her body, not just her arms and legs. Porrim's handed a number, and she makes her way across the restaurant to table 7, inhaling the tantalizing smell of roasting meat.

She's the first to arrive at her table, but she manages to look relaxed--posture graceful and easy, not checking the door every few seconds. She's good at waiting.

"Well hello there!" Harley had gone all out for what felt like her first date in months and she was almost unrecognizable save for the fact that she'd occasionally paled her skin and dyed her hair for other big parties. It was a style that seemed to work for her depending on what she wore with it.

She smiles at Porrim, delighted to have such a good looking partner on this adventure in social Russian Roulette, "Looks like it's my lucky night. I was afraid they'd pair me up with Wesker just to watch me start throwing chairs."

Porrim glances up from her water glass to see her date for the evening approaching. Oh, goodness. She certainly hadn't been expecting to be paired with the notorious Harley Quinn. But it's no big deal. She smiles at the Mentor.

"Hi. Harley, right?" She extends a hand, tattoos snaking down her wrist, to shake. "I'm Porrim. And I'll try not to make you throw anything."

"Got it in one! Well done date~ And you're from fabulous five right? Porrium the...I'm gonna guess either escort or stylist since I know that ice queen Azula was the mentor for your pups."

Harley and Azula had discovered almost immediately they did not get along and made an effort to steer clear of one another. After word got out about Azula's mental issues however Harley had wished she'd spent more time annoying the prissy and pale girl.

She took a seat and placed the napkin in her lap delicately before producing a paper wrapped straw from somewhere and gently peeling away part of the wrapper.

"Mhm. Escort," Porrim confirms smoothly, studying the menu--but studying Harley over top of it. She looks different than how she's seen her in publicity shots. The hair, for starters, and her skin is much paler. But it's not a bad change.

She quirks an eyebrow. "You brought your own straw?"

She smirks, apparently having anticipated this question.

"Sometimes these fancy places don't like to use straws. Wine glasses are too shallow for them you know? But I just have to have my fun." She winks and takes careful aim before blowing into the straw and sending the paper sailing through the air to land gracefully in some Capitolite woman's oversized beehive hairdo.

Harley very casually slipped the straw away looking satisfied with her opening silliness and picked up the menu as if she was going to study it carefully, but now she too was watching for a reaction. There was speculation that some people could tell in the first twenty seconds how a date would go. Harley was wondering just what sort of date could be had with a start like this?

Porrim's expression is something like vague amusement. "Of course." She's heard a fair bit about Harley, of course, how she's a little...off the beaten path. And this seems to hold true now that she's sitting right in front of her. "It's only fair."

She watches with growing surprise as the straw wrapper lands in someone's awful hairstyle. "Marvelous. A vast improvement, if you ask me."

Ten points to Porrim, things are off to a great start as far as Harley's concerned.

"Thank you, thank you. I could never be a stylist but I have my own sense of taste." She chuckled making a mock bow.

"It's like they say, I don't know art, but I know what I like." And honestly she loved a lot of Capitol fashion. It was just the kind of gaudy, over the top non-sense that made her laugh.

"Probably safer for the tributes if I'm just a mentor. Then they can avoid me easier."

Porrim snorts. "I used to be a stylist, and trust me. Tributes will find any excuse to avoid them. It got to the point where I had to threaten to have them hauled in for fittings by Peacekeepers."

Something she would never do now, of course. Those were the old days.

That was enough to earn another laugh from Harley.

"Seriously? I love having my own personal stylist! I don't get why so many tributes run screaming from the room. I mean I've seen some of the fashion failures out in public but I think most of the tributes get dressed pretty fly!"

Then again she'd also heard horror stories about stylists who insisted on plastic surgery.

Porrim snorts. "I don't think many of our dear Tributes came from a very fashionable background to begin with. It can be quite a leap, going from sweaty t-shirts and faded jeans to haute couture."

"You can say that again. And that's coming from me, a girl who can go days in just her underpants if there's a good enough TV series to binge online." She snickered at confessing her less then fabulous hobby.

"It's worse back home though. See where I come from you get these costumed vigilantes and criminals. Sometimes they try to dress with a theme. I kid you not I knew a guy who called himself "The Calculator" and dressed...as a calculator. Numbers on his chest and everything!"

As Harley goes on, Porrim's eyebrows only raise higher and higher toward her hairline. "Goodness. That seems..." Tasteless? Horrid? "Terribly unfashionable," she concludes. "Let's hope the Gamemakers don't decide to bring anyone like that here, it'd give even the bravest Stylist a heart attack."

"No kidding! Guy was a total dork! But get this years later? Totally re-invents himself. Now no one ever sees him and he charges people like...tons of money to ask him questions. Stuff like "What kind of superheroes live in this area?" And "Can you get me blue prints to this bank I wanna rob." Talk about a comeback! I still wonder if he wears the stupid suit when he handles those calls though." Another laugh and the waiter comes to take their orders. Harley orders a plate of mixed meats and roast vegetables, purposefully mispronouncing the word as "Veggie-tables" and giggling at the indignent twitch the waiters mustache makes. He might be dressed as a Barbarian but it's clear he still has some pride and class behind those furs.

"Huh. Talk about reinvention." Of course, Porrim lives in the Capitol. Her people are reinventing themselves almost constantly. Half the time she comes to work unable to recognize most of her coworkers.

The way Harley orders nearly has Porrim rolling her eyes. Oh, boy. What a class act. Porrim gives the waiter a smile that says she understands. "I'll have the prime rib, thanks."

"So how about you!" Harley turned the conversation back in Porrim's direction as soon as the waiter was gone. "What inspires you to be...well all of this?" She gestured up and down with her hands.

"What makes Miss Porrim someone to admire?" She added letting her smile melt into a gooey sort of respect and affection despite hardly knowing the first thing about her date.

Porrim smirks, shaking her head. She's used to people looking at her like that, and by now she's used to reacting the way they expect her to. "I'm nothing so special," she demurs. "It's the way I am, I suppose."

The second question has her snorting. "I wouldn't go so far as that. I'm just a hardworking woman who happens to know how to dress herself. The rest is up to the viewer, I suppose."

Twirling a fork between her fingers without looking at it Harley can't help but chuckle.

"Well modesty is an attribute in short supply around here so that's worth admiring. I've always been more of a flashy girl myself but I'm every bit as addicted to attention as most celebrities."

Setting the fork down for her drink she continued "And it's so much harder to predict public opinion back home. Is it easier here? Or is that just one of your talents?"

It's hilarious to Porrim that Harley thinks she's modest. She's anything but; she knows she's hot, and she likes to show it off, and most of all she likes to call people out on finding her attractive. But she also understands the merit of subtlety.

"Attention is nice," Porrim agrees. "It feels good to be in the spotlight now and then."

The question about public opinion has her barking a laugh. "Predictable as the tides," she answers.

If Harley realizes that Porrim is about as modest as she herself is, she doesn't show it. Instead she nods in agreement and then grins brightly with the woman laughs. Harley loves making people laugh even if it's at her own expense.

"Maybe for you it is sister. But I gotta tell ya I just can't pin down this Capitol Crowd. Not like back home when I could rob a bank full of people and by the time I left they'd thank me for it."

A bit of an exaggeration on her part, but she liked to think among all the villains that had come out of Arkham people got along with her easiest.

Porrim props her chin on her hand, studying Harley with renewed interest.

"So you really were a bank robber, hmm? It's not just hearsay, or made up?"

"Oh sure!" Harley had gotten used to peoples fascination with her former life and she could hardly blame them. It was a great life!

"Banks, Museums, toy stores, candy shops. I've robbed plenty of places. I've also stolen cars, kidnapped people, set fires, and generally caused mayhem and destruction for fun and profit." She went on in a light and cheery voice.

"The city I came from was full of types like that. Everyone from giant mutant crocodile men to the clown prince of crime himself my pud-" she visibly stopped herself and pinched her arm reflexively.

"The Joker. My former boyfriend." It took some effort but she managed to inject enough venom into the word former she thought it almost sounded convincing that she might be over him.

Maybe?

"Huh." Porrim's expression turns quizzical. "And yet you've never tried any of that here? Why? Is it the threat of Peacekeepers, or is it that you've reformed?"

That was enough to make Harley laugh sheepishly, it's not as though she hadn't tried to have a little fun.

"A little of both. I mean...I want to be a hero but in my own way. I'm no Wonder Woman but I've learned a thing or two from her." She explains wondering if Porrim is one of the few Capitolites who might remember the two arena career of Princess Diana of the Amazons.

"But also you guys have like...NO privacy around here. Can't sneak around or do anything fun like plot surprise parties without at least someone knowing about it." Harley sighed chewing her food thoughtfully.

"I miss the days when I could go to the bathroom or hide in a warehouse or abandoned amusement park without knowing that there was someone somewhere watching my every move and waiting for me to do something bad enough to lobotomize me. I mean i've been to jail before, and I've been to a mental asylum. It really gives ya an appreciation for your private time."

"I can understand that," Porrim replies, catching the reference easily. She's worked in the Tower for nigh on seven years now, after all. "It's good to want to make something of yourself. And--hey, you won your Games, so that's a good start."

Harley's nattering has her amused, at least. "Don't I know it." But there are cameras watching, so Porrim plasters on a smile. "But it's all for our own protection, of course. The government just wants to take care of its best assets." A standard, regurgitated bit of propaganda. Just what President Snow himself would want to hear.

Oh, this is the night and the heavens are right on this lovely Bella Notte

Table 7: Harley and Porrim

Because of course this is the week work steals all my freetime. Sorry this is so late ^_^;;

No worries! c:

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