thecapitol | People In Glass Houses...

Who | Timaeus Nadir and guests
What | Timaeus is hosting a picnic get-together/catch-up.
Where | The picnic will be taking place in the Tropical Habitat Dome.
When| We'll be using a bit of wibbly time so that people who want to attend can.
Warnings/Notes| None as of yet.

(This is an opportunity for me to make some new CR as well as catch up with ongoing relationships, but I also want to encourage tagging around between characters! Feel free to do whatever you like in the setting with whoever you like! Also I will be backtagging this so don't feel you've missed the boat if you haven't tagged in immediately <3)

Timaeus certainly knew how to organise a gathering- even if it wasn't an outrageously opulent celebration to be held on one of his own yachts. This one was to be held under the expansive dome of the Tropical Habitat- the entire location rented out for the day to Timaeus and his guests, a loosely private affair- formal invitations as such hadn't been extended, but those welcome knew they were. Naturally, all tributes and victors were included in this group.

The Dome was a beautiful piece of architecture in itself, though antiquated when compared with the technology used for the Arenas. Rather than invisible forcefields, the climate of the interior was separated from the outside by elaborately curving steel and glass. Inside, tropical plants of all types thrived- there was a still, green pond and, deeper inside, a cascading waterfall. Butterflies in hundreds of colours, sizes and shapes flitted about, tropical birds swooped between the trees, brightly coloured fish darted in the water.
Blankets and cushions had been scattered in the main clearing with hampers of food, but there was plenty of space for the guests to break away from the gathering if they so desired- the dome was full of winding paths through the greenery- some even climbing around the trunks of the largest trees and leading to viewing platforms above. In a temporary gazebo in the clearing, a string quartet played music that wasn't quite the classical pieces Tributes were familiar with.

Timaeus himself seemed in a brighter mood than he had been for months, more than happy to make conversation with anyone who approached him- though he was certainly keeping an eye open for particular individuals. Some that he'd met, some that he'd lost and had returned to him, and others still that he had yet to meet.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Sherlock's eyebrow arches incredibly high as Cuthbert walks over with the flower and his very obvious intent to decorate him with it. It's mostly his surprise that keeps him standing still to accept the flower. (God only knows why.)

"And here I thought I only had to show up," He said flatly.

"But really? Lilac? Are you trying tell me something, Cuthbert, because I'll have you know my affections are firmly elsewhere--"

This is something he should probably know, but lilacs didn't exactly grow where he grew up, so he can't quite dig up the meaning behind them.

"I don't know if there is a flower to express your unique brand of self love, so this was a close second."

When in doubt, bluff. And be insulting. Really, he should have expected this before he walked over. Cuthbert himself has chosen not to wear a flower to this, or at least his stylist didn't give him one to wear. He is smartly dressed otherwise, though.

"Was it really," Sherlock said with an eyebrow raised, obviously not believing him for a second. It almost could work, if the connotation of the message wasn't so heavily centered around the sender of the flower.

"Well, I'll consider it a compliment. But, I can hardly leave you unadorned," He said as he leaned past him and plucked a sprig of snapdragon, and with a smirk slid it through the button hole in Cuthbert's lapel.

"There we are. Much better."

And he would have gotten away with it, too, if it hadn't been for that meddling detective. But no matter. He can take it as well as he can give it.

"Sorry, Sai, I'm more than a bit spoken for. And what would the Capitol think if they saw us exchange flowers like this? Your subservient boyfriend would surely want to level more useless threats my way if he found out."

He doesn't take the flower out though, that would be showing weakness and this isn't the time for weakness.

"I've never particularly cared about what the Capitol things," Sherlock said, both an utter lie and an utter truth, given with a sharp smile.

"And you should be careful of John's threats - he's one of the steadiest shots I've ever known. And he's infinitely more patient than either of us."

He could step back out of Cuthbert's personal space, maybe, but then again: no.

Bert gives a smug smile to Sherlock when he mentions not caring about the Capitol. He doesn't think any intelligent man would really ignore the Capitol. But he outright laughs when he hears Sherlock call John a steady shot.

"It matters not how steady a shot he is if he doesn't have the balls to pull the trigger."

This is a good conversation to be having face to face. It's probably best that other people don't hear what they're saying.

Sherlock visibly bristles, and leans in too close, his eyes incredibly sharp.

"Don't mistake my pacifism for his," he said simply. "You're an idiot if you can't read his military career on him, and I can't abide an idiot."

Sure, John had been an army doctor.

But he'd had bad days.

(And he'd killed a man to save his life the first time they'd met.)

Bert almost backs down, now that he's broken through Sherlock's hard, cynical shell to the gooey, emotional nougat within. Almost, but not quite.

"Unwillingness to fight is pacifism. Inability to fight is cowardice."

He lets Sherlock have a moment to take in the implication before he breaks into a full grin.

"I've been a fool all my life and you're just now coming to realize it? Most people take that away from a single conversation with me."

It would have dug deeper, perhaps, if Sherlock wasn't absolutely, completely and utterly convinced that he was wrong. He knew John better than anyone, and his was the last and best word on the subject. There was nothing more he could say to Cuthbert of it. He'd find out just how wrong he was, in the end.

Sherlock was sure of it.

So he only responded with a glare of flint to the accusation of cowardice, and moved on.

"And here I held out infinite hope," He bit, and it's only partially a lie. Everyone was an idiot (except for him) but the first time he'd met Cuthbert he'd seemed to have a modicum of intelligence.

"More the fool you, then, aye?"

Cuthbert didn't actually believe he was stupid, but it took the sting out of confrontations to admit he was fool before anyone else could judge him one. And he did act foolish, the bit with the flower could easily be exhibit A, but as far as he was concerned there was a world of difference between a fool and a simpleton. One he was happy to be, the other he would forever fight against.

"But then, we met by both making fools of ourselves, it should hardly be surprising even after all this time that neither of us are as smart as we truly believe ourselves to be. I can face the possibility, can you?"

"I know exactly who I am," Sherlock said. He was not falling for that trap. His mind was all he had, here, and he was not exactly humble.

"I don't need to face falsehoods. You can believe what you want." Everyone could believe what they wanted. He knew the truth. (~~He was a genius.~~)

"'If I cannot lie to myself, who can I lie to?' Or so the old adage goes."

That smile says Cuthbert knows what Sherlock is thinking. They're probably more alike than either of them want to admit. Because Cuthbert is never less funny than he thinks he is. Ever.

"I do think what I want, and you have yet to change my mind about it."

Sherlock is welcome to pull all the unpleasant assumptions from that. They're certainly there to be pulled.

"You speak as though I care to," Sherlock said, his voice feigning boredom to cover the irritation. He was not going to let anyone, let alone Cuthbert, how annoying he found him.

"But in the end, Cuthbert, your opinion matters the least of all." He offered a sharp smile, daggers and blades all the way down.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I believe I've wasted quite enough time."

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