thecapitol | Open

Current Mood: annoyed
Current Location: Tribute Tower

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Who: Eliot Spencer and OPEN
When: the day after Enjolras' crowning
Where: Tribute Tower
What: Eliot just isn't in the best mood today
Warnings: language, possible references to prostitution, Eliot's life in the Capitol

Eliot was all smiles as he bid the woman goodbye at the front doors of the Tribute Tower. He managed to keep smiling as he walked inside although anyone who knew him might be able to tell it was forced. He promptly walked over to the bar and ordered a drinking. Anyone close enough to him might manage to overhear him muttering something about her being a “fucking cunt.”

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"Didn't put out, huh?"

Gabriel was sitting right next to Eliot at the bar. Drinking was a very strange thing now that he's been stripped of most of his abilities. His Grace was still there, but it didn't do shit to intoxication.

Thankfully, he was just getting on a roll, so he was one of those happy drunks who talked too much. The usual, really.

"Don't they all?"

Eliot raised his eyebrows at the other man. He hadn't intended to be overheard. If this one had overheard him, who knew who else had. "Don't they all what?" he asked, pretending not to know what the other tribute was talking about.

Gabriel just laughed and patted him on the shoulder. "Exactly!" He sighed, "Ah, mortal women. They're such a strange breed. Always have been.

"Don't worry, buddy. There's plenty of fish in the sea so long as your into that kind of thing." He's going to ahead and sip at his glass now. Alcohol was never quite this good when he was at full strength.

Eliot couldn't resist a smirk at that opening. "Only fish I wanna see are the ones on my plate." Or the ones that would end up in his oven. He definitely knew exactly what Gabriel meant and deliberately turned into something completely different.

He actually barked a few laughs at that one. Yeah, he was getting pretty plastered... He didn't really care, of course.

"Like I said," he chuckled, "not everyone's into that kinda thing. Tasty, though."

"Quite." He laughed, starting to relax as much as he ever did in this place. "Especially ya just caught 'em."

"Oh yeah," he sighed. "I tried that before, you know. That fishing thing people claim is so relaxing. Why better if you have a crate or two of dynamite, just sayin'."

"Ya took dynamite fishin'?" Eliot gave him a look, trying to decide if the other man was having him on.

"Explosions, man," he grinned. "Blow up the fish. Scoop them up and they're already charbroiled. Gotta have an open mind like all these other walking meat sacks around here."

"Man, I shoulda tried that when I was in the army." Special Ops would have been too dangerous to try a stunt like that but in the regular army, it would've been killing two birds with one stone some days.

"How can you be in a militant unit and not solve every problem with explosions?"

It was a legit question.

"By carryin' food with ya. An' some units are more specialized."

Oh. "Yeah, I guess that makes some sense." Boring sense, but yeah. Gonna just sip at his drink, mhm.

Holiday was well prepared for another date out on the town with a sponsor. She hated those things really, but it took her mind off of arena stuff for a time, at least. Especially when they paid for drinks.

However, tonight was one of her usual sponsors and it was the one she hated most. He was just so gross and spoiled, but whatever. He knew what clubs and drinks she liked and he did always try to be a decent conversationalist when he remembered she existed, so it wouldn't be all bad.

Still, she made a trip to the bar to get a shot before leaving. Where Eliot's night was ending, hers was just getting started. In one of the dresses Calico had made her - tiny, gold, and backless - Holiday downed her shot quickly and leaned against the bar, not even hearing what Eliot had muttered. She did give him a sweet smile, though.

He smiled when he saw her, recognizing her from the arena where he'd broken his leg. "Hey, darlin'," he greeted warmly.

She looked back to him before taking another second to place him. That's right. "Eliot, right?"

You'll have to excuse her, Eliot. The last time they met, she was minus one arm. Sort of takes a little priority.

"Yeah." He stood, offering her his seat. His mood isn't so bad he can't treat a woman right. "You're... Holiday, right?"

"Oh, please-" She tried to stop Eliot from rising, but it was rude to not take his seat now. So she nodded her thanks and sat.

"That's right. We met a few arenas back. Candyland, if I'm right."

He nodded. "Ya were workin' with Chris. An' I was mostly useless."

Holiday scoffed at that notion. "Please. At least you had all of your appendages." From what she remembered, that is. She was going into shock in Chris had found her. Without him, she probably would have died that early.

He smiled wryly. "That time. For all the good that did, since one of 'em was broken."

"Still better off than me," she chuckled. "How have you been? I haven't seen you much since."

"If ya say so." He shook his head with a smile. "I've been keepin' busy. Meetin' sponsors, gettin' ready for next time. Yourself?"

Holiday shrugged. "A lot of the same. Just getting by really, but I much prefer treating myself than going out with these sponsors so often."

"Some of them are worth it." But his smile no longer reached his eyes. "They know how ta make a good evenin'."

"Sometimes." Not often, at least not for her. Maybe it was different for women or something.

"Most times." But his eyes told a different story. It wasn't different for women. Not really.

No, it wouldn't be. Not in the Capitol. Man, woman, they were all tributes. It didn't matter.

Holiday's smile widened a little. "Were you going out or just getting back in?"

"Just getting back. You?"

"Just heading out." She waved to the bartender for another drink, remembering that she wasn't going to be sitting here in pleasant conversation the whole evening.

He smiled sympathetically. There were some in the Capital whose company could be pleasant. Many more were barely tolerable. "Good luck."

"Thanks," she smiled, getting her drink and hopping off of the bar stool. "I'm going to see you around here more, right?"

He smiled playfully. "I'm sure ya will, darlin'."

She returned the smile, curious about him, but walked away all the same. There'll be more time for that.

"Such language Eliot."

Azula was in her favorite booth off to the side but her sharp ears had caught the words. She was enjoying her daily wine with the mornings news and some little cakes, but she could hardly ignore one of her wards.

"Something going wrong?"

What had gone wrong was that this client was a demanding bitch. Not that he could risk saying that. Instead, he shook his head with a dry smile. "Just ran into Julia's ex. He's a jealous piece of work."

Technically, it was all true. Frankly, he thought the two deserved each other.

"Do tell?" Azula was not normally one for gossip about relationships, but when it effected one of her tributes she could not turn a blind eye to it. More importantly she was bored and this was more interesting then the garbage tabloid she had been reading.

"Nothin' much ta say," He replied quietly. "He showed up at dinner an' made an ass of himself. I'm sure the gossip rags'll have it all next week."

"Well yes, but they do tend to embellish and exaggerate. And while everyone appreciates a good story there's somethign to be said for getting the truth from those who lived it." She reasoned with a playful lilt to her voice.

He shrugged. "He saw us in the restaurant an' made a scene. Tryin' ta scare me off 'er." It's actually almost funny looking back.

Azula chuckled, finding it funny already.

"Isn't that just the way? Emotions run hot and suddenly people forget their logic and reasoning. It's a beautiful sort of disaster at times."

He allowed himself a quiet laugh. "A beautiful disaster. I like that."

"Keep it, free of charge." She smirked purring with amusement.

"Just don't let it drag you down. There are more important things after all. You're more important then those bad emotions."

He smirked back at her. "After the Arenas, a jealous exboyfriend is hardly intimidating."

That earned him a polite laugh and she raised her glass to him.

Who knew if she'd ever realize she wasn't actually talking to her tribute. Maybe when the tabloids hit about this little incident.

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Wait, does she think he's Lindsey?

Eep, no that's my fault. I got them mixed up...oh well let's blame it on her medication.

It happens with twins :-)

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