thecapitol | (no subject)

Who| Timaeus Nadir and all his guests. If you are in the Capitol, you've been invited!
What| A spectacular Viewing Party and opportunity for tributes to get sponsorship
Where| The Victoria Ascendant, on the lake
When| After the most recent death roll!
Warnings/Notes| Probable skeeviness of the Nice Guy variety.

Welcome to the Victoria Ascendant, latest in the Ascendant line of luxury yachts as built by the Nadir company. Tonight, the Victoria Ascendant is the stage set for a spectacular party, also paid for by the company and specifically designed and organised by a team of event specialists overseen by your host for this evening, Timaeus Nadir- wealthy eligible bachelor, melodramatic heir apparent to the company chair, frequent sponsor of the Games. The Victoria Ascendant is fully equipped with every obscenely luxurious item imaginable, and practically drips opulence.

When first welcomed aboard you will be assured that your every need will be seen to, your every desire catered for. Staff are on hand to answer any questions you might have or guide you to various areas of the ship, provide you with food, drink, or suggestions of how best to take advantage of the Victoria Ascendant's many amenities- they are here as hosts, but also as salespeople for those of the guests with money to burn- this party is serving more than one purpose. Tributes who responded to their invite will also receive a delicate, hand-written note in a golden envelope as they board- the content of which will be posted as a reply to their response to this post.(I'll do this once your character turns up.)

Although the Victoria Ascendant has a magnificent dining room for formal, sit-down occasions, the food for the party will be circulating the various lounge areas and decks. There is also a buffet table, for those of you who prefer to help yourselves, and a fully stocked bar. Provided are a baffling variety of foods and beverages, seemingly unconnected- but each tribute will find that if at any point during their stay in the Capitol they have requested a particular food or drink item, it is available here. Or, at least, the closest approximation the catering staff could conjure up. Seating is provided in intimate groupings around tables for the most part, though there are large, sprawling couches against the walls. Central to the dining area is a magnificent aquarium filled with brightly coloured fish. Anyone looking closely enough will recognise them- varieties of piranha- but don't worry, they've been more than adequately fed and the glass is thick.

While there are various screens displaying the Games throughout the ship, Viewing is also taking place on an enormous screen, set up in a seperate lounge area with full floor-to-ceiling windows all along one side. Here, staff wait to take bets or help organise the giving of sponsor gifts. Large, comfortable couches line the room, and the central table overflows with a spectacular arrangement of edible flowers and fruit.

Later in the evening, you will be told that the firework display is about to begin, and invited to go up onto the main deck to watch. The fireworks themselves will be launched from smaller boats across the lake, and the display is set to be truly spectacular. It will be set to some music that Tributes may find familiar- various melodies pulled from the most recent Arena. The large swimming pool on the deck is open, but it is too early in the year to be comfortable to use. Instead, it is being used as an unusual centrepiece for the evening. Floating in the illuminated water is a gigantic iceberg, sculpted into a stylised model of the current arena and populated with frozen figures. Eagle-eyed Tributes may be able to spot themselves depicted in ice- more often than not, the moment of their deaths are the pose of choice, if a little tweaked for the sake of a more dramatic scene.

Enjoy!

Adachi · Ariadne · Asha · Atticus · Beck · Blaine · Calico · Callista · Chris · Diana · Don · Eddie · Eponine · Eva · Gaila · Glinda · Harley · Howard · Julie · Kurt · Marty · Maximus · Momoko · Neffa · Parker · Peeta · Phil · Pruna · R · Sigma · Some · Thane · Timaeus · Topher

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It was too early in the evening for Marty to put on his- and he gave a mental cringe at the term- game face. Schmoozing was a three drinks in activity, minimum. Though whether that was the number he'd had or the number the people he had to talk up his- or soon to be his, after this latest 'round'- tributes had had was up for debate. Didn't matter, in the end. It was still too early. Better to steer well clear of sponsors and mentors looking for future alliances until he had to. Fewer chances to steer things wrong.

For now, scotch in hand, he was planted before the fish tank. One hand hovered near his mouth, not quite touching, as he followed one fish's winding trail through the aquarium. Piranhas. Hell. There was a message for the lot of them.

Dealing with parties of any sort is a multiple-drinks sort of endeavor for Eva. She's two glasses in before she really starts to socialize in her dress and makeup, which gives the illusion that she's been spattered with blood and rubies. The red wine matches the color well.

"You're not a Tribute," she observes, coming up behind Marty and looking with bemusement at the fish. "I don't believe we've met."

"I- no."

He gives up on the urge for a rambling explanation within seconds of it arising. It didn't matter. Not to them, not to anyone, really. History was only valued by those that had lived through it. What was it to any of them who he'd been or where he was from? Less than nothing. As meaningless as the displays within the eternal children's game that was the Arena these days. He gave one last glance at the fish before turning to the woman fully.

"Mar- Just Marty. District two escort. For now. Not really on nine's radar."

Ah. Escort. Eva has mixed feelings about Escorts; on one hand, she finds their work outright deplorable, and on the other she recognizes that they are as trapped as she is in the role of a Mentor.

Still, the stains of her first impressions of the Escorts, back in her childhood, are indelible. She keenly remembers the woman at the Reapings with her long fingernails and too-white teeth. She remembers when that woman was replaced by a man with perfectly-coiffed hair and no embellishments on his fingernails, and how when she walked up to the stage when her name was called that said man wrapped his unmarked hands around her wrists and shook her hand. She remembers thinking she was dirty then, even though his hands were obviously clean.

"Really? I thought it was the other way around. District Two actually produces winners." She's certainly seen enough of them slicing her Tributes to ribbons over the years. Putting holes in them. Cracking their bones. "A pleasure, Marty. You must know my name already."

The hand near his faces wavers for half a moment, torn between offering it in greeting and the general knowledge that, save a few exceptions, theirs wasn't exactly a friendly relationship based on station alone. Working, needed, but not really someone you call up to catch a drink with. In the end his hand simply fell awkwardly to his side and stayed there. Parties like these weren't meant to be a meeting of equals, after all.

"Eva Salazar. Thirty seventh. You mentor the...reptile. Among others."

More alcohol, she decides. She can be cordial with District 2 as long as a certain Billy isn't involved in any capacity. Her smile is warm but her eyes have the glassy calculation of a crocodile's.

"Oh, don't talk about him like that. Just because he's cold-blooded doesn't mean we need to be callous." She laughs. "And you have Mr. Anderson. Quite the friendly fellow."

Eventually he was joined by another party-goer - a young man with a muzzle engraved with shark's teeth and a bad habit of swaying slowly from side to side as if he hit the bar too hard and too fast like a newbie. Incidentally he also reeked of Tide's Sigh, the cologne wafting over toward his neighbor in a solid wave.

R stared at the fish. Big ugly teeth, big ugly faces. The beautiful aquarium only highlighted all their worst features.

"They're...bony. A friend said...they're not...bad," R wheezed, deciding to be conversational. The man next to him stared at the piranha like they had the meaning of life. So what do you see? What's in there?

A little depressed by the view of the city on the deck- the sight of so many thriving lives and yet so little freedom haunted him- Sigma moved deeper into the yacht. Eventually ending up by the fish tank, he takes a place next to the young man. Sigma isn't of District 2, and he hasn't learned to tell new Tributes, their attending staff, and other Capitol citizens apart just yet. If he had known this man's job immediately, he would have turned around.

Drawn to the fish as though he were a cat, Sigma watches them zip around their tank with his cybernetic eye. "Interesting choice in aquatic animal," he thinks aloud. "They must be a proper bitch to take care of, if you'll pardon my language."

Of course Peeta had to go check out the fish. You know, go check out some...fish.. really, he was hiding out from anymore fans of the star crossed lovers, and it just so happened that this spot was available for that duty. He tilted his head a little bit with a frown.

"Man eats fish, and then one day he finds out fish eat men. Some pretty dangerous decorations," Peeta sighed, watching one of the fish swim about almost lazily.

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Marty (Escort | OTA

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