thecapitol | Oh, sing sweet nightingale, sing sweet nightingale

Oh, sing sweet nightingale, sing sweet nightingale

Who| Anyone who's anyone (and of course, those signed up for the plot)
What| It's a games-watching party! A medieval ball and renaissance fair in one!
Where| A Capitol Ballroom.
When| Friday evening! This log is forward dated!
Warnings/Notes| Please do not comment in the placeholders! Those are needed for the later event. More details to come...

Hennins, masks, crowns and gowns. This is a ball built for playing the part. Although some guests have come in masquerade, it's certainly not mandatory. In fact, while attempts for some historical accuracy were made, that isn't mandatory as much so either. Medieval people were so drab! It shouldn't hurt to bring in a little fab.

The ballroom is big and beautiful, painted ceilings, gilded sculptures all up along the walls, shining chandeliers and marble floors. Paintings hang of President Snow, his family, and other infamous Capitolite families, all of whom also have coats of arms. Tapestries hang too along the walls depicting scenes of the Dark Days and recent arena both, all in Medeival styling.

Guests enter through wide doors and red-carpeted stairs leading down. The way to the gardens is a back opened wall on one side for guests to go to and from as they please, or observe the shows taking place outside.

Guessing games are had among the masked, and in one corner this has been taken to extreme. Black robes and eerie plague masks have been left for people to dress in so friends are forced to guess who they are through miming or voice. In another corner, a magician wows audiences and a women with a fogged crystal ball reads palms and gives fortunes.

The tables are set to the sides of the ballroom and far apart to allow plentiful dancing space. The food is, of course, a marvellous feast of all sorts of fruits, meats, breads, and more. One doesn't even need rise from the table to talk to another across the room; in each section a messenger bird, a colorful falcon-hawk muttation, awaiting notes that may be offered to it and the instruction as to whom they need deliver to. Notes can be signed or left unsigned and written in fullest honesty. The messenger birds are as obedient as any Avox, but far more fun! If perhaps slightly more susceptible to trickery, stealing napkins, food, and other things as commanded by mischievous children and adults alike.

Outside are all manner of games and shows in a great festival lit by torchlight and friendly glowing lightening-faerie muttations. Jugglers and jesters, stilt-walkers and fire-eaters. There's no end to the entertainment. There are medieval stocks set up for individuals to enact vegetable justice upon the volunteers, and some to simply take pictures with.

A chained bear dances to music played upon harps, drums, lutes, viols, crumhorns, pipe and tabors, and more! Both outside and within the ballroom dances are taking place. Some dances have patterns that can be easily follow and kept up with. Others are rehearsed by that of performers. The music plays soft and gentle, fast and lively, and all in between, some featuring bards singing their songs. Some of these songs may just be about you.

In brewing witches pots, sparkling and smoking with their magic, projections of the arena can be watched. Small ones are set upon the tables while larger ones sit outside. When those feasting are not cheering for that, they may do so for the rounds archery done with suction-cup arrows. Or perhaps the Jousting, of which there is both an option for guest participation with foam lances, cushioned ground, and animatronic horses, as well as the option of observing the real deal of jousting, with professional riders and performers, one for each District and The Capitol as well. Or perhaps you might head on down to view the axe-throwing competition? Or maybe you will sign up for pageant of beauty and talents. There's a place for children to play Nine-Man Morris and of course a keg and bar for the adults.

There is a stable, a pond, and a beautiful garden beyond the shows and performances. A gazebo goes out over the water, unintentionally modern as a part of the original building, but lovely nonetheless.

Why, there's just so much to do, it's hard not to see why the place is crowded and full with attendants. In fact, it's just noisy enough that some people might get away with saying a word or two they wouldn't be able to elsewhere. Things, and people, could easily hide right in plain sight...

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

As strange as it was, this would be first time Leonidas approached the District 7 mentor on a plane that wasn't competing for Sponsors. This was them on a level playing ground so to speak. He was dressed in clothes fitting a borrowed nobleman status, colors matching the lion mask the D2 Stylist thought it best. This costume practically hid his tanned skin from training and soccer along with his face.

Emily looked ethereal in her gown, made of silver and turquoise...it reminded Leo of a crush he once had with a woman who seemed more angelic than human. It emboldened Cora to follow through and greet Finch with a bow, "I see you're having fun."

Emily didn't know Leo well, and truth be told she didn't have the best impression of him, certain that as Merlyn's mentor he could have done more to prevent the terrible attack she'd witnessed Peacekeepers inflict on him. Tonight though she's in good spirits, floating around the ballroom in her gown and feeling like a princess, and even Leonidas Cora would get a free pass from her in such a mood.

"I am! I don't think I've ever enjoyed a party so much."

It's best not to bring up the issue of Leo not being an actual mentor, merely a coach, to light, as he's in a great mood and would rather enjoy the night. And it wasn't like Merlyn wasn't bringing about all that trouble. Tributes are guests of Panem, and they should respect the laws.

"You don't go out much, do you?" he was actually curious how anyone working with Jason could deal with that man on a daily basis.

"I do sometimes." She's a little tired of being asked that, especially by the more extroverted party animals the Capitol seems to cultivate, who she's sure see her as quite boring for avoiding big social encounters like this as much as she does. "There are all sorts of events that Victors have to show their faces at, after all."

"Eh it answers the question but it's not always work I'm referring to," Leo kept himself vague, just in case his reputation preceded him. But Emily's? Emily's hung over her like a specter> A Victor who killed those she cared about, a story Leo had seen time and time again. She was from the outlying District, resilient but emotional.

But enough studying his conversation partner, he offered a drink for her. "You're quiet. Then again it's a welcomed change from the buzz in this place." He couldn't deny he missed the mountainsides of District 2.

She takes the drink, sipping it and holding the glass carefully away from her dress. "It is?" She's genuinely surprised, having always seen him as part of the buzz of the place himself. "I feel like you're in the minority there, I've lost count of the number of folks who've wanted me to come out of my shell more."

"Heh, I'm covertly in the minority, I go out as part of a paid date, give a bit of publicity for my Tributes and head back to the Training Center. All the outings are for the Sponsors, I'd rather keep myself out of the spotlight," Leonidas chuckled, "There's plenty to do and talking shop in a party must be a pain."

For all the shit he gives his Tributes, he's gotten somewhat closer to them and to their plight. "Besides, you have Jason to do all the PR, you don't have to take care of that."

Emily rolls her eyes wearily. "With the sort of PR he gives out, I have to work overtime."

"It can't be that bad...right?" The question came in equal terms concern and information mining. It was no secret that Jason was headed full speed into a mental breakdown and Leo wanted to be sure that he was there with popcorn and beer. But as much as Emily was the competition, it was like watching a cat toy with a cornered animal: one of those days, Finch would snap.

She hesitates, not wanting to say anything too damning and have it make its way back to Jason. "I mean, he could be worse. At least he does his job, which is more than I can say for the Escort I had. He's hard working, and you know where you stand with him. But his people skills leave a lot to be desired. It's hard enough to get off-worlders to want to comply without Jason rubbing them up the wrong way too."

Sounds like she's rehearsed this line for a while now, Leo smirked, mostly concealed with his mask, "Small blessings that can have a huge impact. Congrats on the last Arena and keeping your Tributes alive."

Callous? Yes, but a Career (even a former one) keeps his eyes on the prize. District 2 had been lagging and seeing the offworlders return one by one made his hopes drop a bit.

"Has he tried to talk to them without sounding like a condescending bureaucrat?"

She laughs a little, taking another sip of her wine. "I'm not sure Jason's capable of talking to anyone without sounding like that."

"Man's got a need to be the center of the universe...I should know, I have that same attitude but I at least respect the people around me," Cora joined her laughter and looked up to the special effects and the dancing bear. "I suppose the only person exempt from such a treatment is Miss Honeymead, but you, expected better of him."

Leo's admiration and respect for Victors, no matter how their Games went, was sincere. He especially kept his bitterness away from Emily. She deserved better than to have a pretender backtalk her.

Her smile turns somewhat more bitter now. "No, Swann's a Capitolite, amongst other things to him. What am I to Jason except a troublesome Districter he's forced to work with?"

"He can simply quit if he's so bothered by being in contact with Districters," Leo simply shrugged and kept his head high, "Should be on that morning talk show on the radio, or something, let him work out his work issues somewhere else."

And get him off the damn pedestal he has going on in the Tower.

"Honeymead can get him the connections and we'll all be happier for it."

Looking at the party, Cora looks on, "The man does his work, but there's nothing left of passion, or respect. Not even for his Tributes, though that's debatable on a good day." Merlyn's blatant disregard for his own safety was a prime example of it.

"My Escort wasn't much better. I don't remember him making eye contact with me once until I won the Arena and was worth his time. He acted as though just breathing in District air was going to poison him."

"Sounds like a pattern...the lower the District, the less the Capitolites want to talk to the people there. Unfortunate, since we're all working to keep Panem together and safe," and thankfully, Leo still kept his less than favorable opinions about Capitolite breathing habits, "Your Arena, you outlasted the competition, didn't you?" Save for the few kills she had, "Do you still have nightmares?" Working with a Mentor changed something in Cora's way of thinking. No longer did the Mentors seem like the pillars of strength the Capitol marketed them as, but human beings with deep flaws. In a sense, it made them less intimidating to approach.

Emily's lips tighten into a thin line as the topic of conversation changes so abruptly to her own Arena. "That's a kinder way to put it than some I've heard." She'd outlasted the competition by betraying the naive kid who'd saved her life at least twice in the Arena. She'd heard every synonym for treachery used to describe her. Outlast sounds more passive, like she can absolve herself of some of the responsibility and guilt using it. "Every Victor has nightmares. If they say they don't, they're lying."

The thing about a Career, or at least a former one, is that Leo wouldn't judge Emily for killing the other child...Tributes back then and now, they forgot their purpose. Katniss and Peeta had proven to be the exception and they were lauded for their efforts, but the law was that: one Victor. "Hence why Jason should treat you with the respect you deserve. You survived and with that every sacrifice the Districts makes carries more weight. He sees it as a job, you see it as a reality."

He's seen the nightmares' effect on Torin and Linden, those Mentors he regarded as both coworkers and even friends, if he were to cross that line.

"If he's going to take his bad attitude out on someone, I'd rather it was me than the Tributes," she says quietly, wearily, knowing Leo's right but that it won't change anything. She attempts a smile, grateful that he's in her corner. "If you want to tell Jason all that, be my guest, but it'll fall on deaf ears. That or he'll take it as a reason to have a vendetta against you."

"He already has a vendetta against me because I was born in District 2 and I called him out on his self-loathing ways being borderline psychological," In other words, he managed to backhandedly call Jason crazy. "Unless either are magically turned into rich Capitolites that can buy him out of working...we're on his shit list. At least you get along with him."

Emily's eyes widen in stunned surprise that anyone had dared to call Jason crazy to his face. But then Emily had visited his home, seen his family... she probably had more of an idea about the mental instability that seemed rampant in Jason's family than most of the staff here. By comparison, Jason himself seemed almost sane.

"You must have a death wish, saying things like that to him."

"I don't tolerate people badmouthing my home if they've never set foot in it. The Districts are here to serve Panem, yes, but what Jason tends to do in his tirades is incite rage," There are no lies or exaggerations, Leo could see the indignation present..."Unless he wants to make riots happen for fun."

She pales a little at the mention of riots, her thoughts flashing back to the one that her part of Seven had become engulfed in, and the Peacekeeper publicly torturing the instigators, his mutilated face burned into her memory. "Even Jason doesn't want that."

Seeing Torin react the way he does to particular stimuli, Leo can see something similar happening to Emily. She was a Victor after all and the Arena tended to keep something from each and every one of them.

"If he keeps trying to portray himself as the voice of the Capitol without the needed empathy...not like our President, that will rub Districters the wrong way."

As a Districter, Cora felt that way whenever Jason gave his history lessons.

Oh, sing sweet nightingale, sing sweet nightingale

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