thecapitol | (no subject)

Who| Mentors, stylist, escorts, and anyone else keeping up with tributes in an official aspect.
What| The green room
Where| The tribute training center
When| start of the arena
Warnings/Notes| none inherent, tags thread subjects as needed.

The green room this round has been decorated with the sensibility of what would be, in our era, a turn of the century sitting room. Dark wood paneling, thick rich red velvet furniture, and plush red curtains drawn back over various monitors with heavy gold cords. Although the room is quiet large to contain so many people, it gives the impression of being intimate. The Avoxes, decked out in vaguely militaristic attire, serve food and drink in silver and crystal dishes, gold alcohol catching the light of the stained glass lamps around the room.

In the center of the room is a holographic projection of the arena, highlighting in flickering lights where each tribute is. Panels hidden discretely in the wood paneling can change the view of any of the screens so a mentor or stylist can pull up their own tribute, or one whom they would like to observe.

The projection can easily be shifted, with the flick of a hand, on to the person's own tablet, or even to be projected on one of the sitting tables placed around the room. On their screens other various information can be easily accessed: current odds, gossip, and even communication from potential bidders.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Finnick would be fine, but his drink could not say as much. He wiped as much off of himself as he could and shook his head.

"I'll dry out eventually. But if you want I can return the favor."

He was only joking, but a little friendly ribbing never hurt, right?

"Might wake me up."

He leaned back, grinning lazily up at Finnick. He was familiar enough with the other mentor to feel up to passing a few light hearted jabs back and forth. What were other-people-trapped-into-the-job-of-watching-people-die for-a-living-because-they-had-managed-to-kill-the-most-children for?

It's not like he had friends. Not around here, at least.

"I thought you were the one who liked to be all wet, though? Ain't I just doin' you a favor?"

"How bad is District 3 that you would rather sleep than help them? I think I know who to bet against now."

Finnick liked Eddie well enough, they had a common bond the same way he and Johanna had a common bond.

"And how many mermen do you know who can breathe alcohol? Or fish, for that matter."

"It would be a hell of an amazing merman. Might have a porblem finding a place to life, though..."

He laughed, standing up to stretch fully, his muscles protesting as they uncurled from his stagnant position.

"My shift is almost over, so don't put in your votes yet. Beetee is up next and he is much smarter than me." He glanced over at the large display, tilting his head towards it. "How are you guys doing?"

"He is a lot more intelligent company, yes." He gave Eddie a smirk. "Smells better, too."

Finnick didn't want to put his focus back on the task at hand. He did glance in the direction Eddie indicated.

"My tributes are still in the game. It's too early to pick a winner, there's more than a few surprises coming, I'm afraid."

"Hey, hey, hey. I smell like tropical paradise. My shower said so this morning."

The showers would always be such a ridiculous feature of the Capitol. Like, who the hell needed shower like that?

Not that Eddie didn't enjoy them now that he had them.

Letting his eyes move over the flickering diagram, he nodded as he thought about the kinds of surprises that might be coming. "Yeah, they need to keep it exciting. Wouldn't want anyone to get bored now, would we."

He snorted, shaking his head in disgust at that.

"Is that what you call it?" Finnick made a face, like he wasn't convinced.

But he was easily distracted by more serious matters.

"It's like a drug. They have to keep upping the dosage once the audience gets used to it. You have to wonder if they're not just going to overdose one of these days."

There was a pointed look at Eddie in there somewhere, but Finnick wasn't about to tell the other man how he should live his life. He just wanted to make sure his example sunk in. And despite the morbid imagery, Finnick still seemed relatively upbeat. No sense in letting the same shit get to him on a different day.

There was a flicker across Eddie's face, which he quickly tried to hide. It had never before made him feel the vague, anxious discomfort when his own bad habits were brought up. Hell, half the victor's had their own vices, and he use to think they were the fools if they were avoiding the obvious relieve sitting right in front of them.

Now? He pushed the thoughts away, not really wanting to acknowledge Finnick's little dig at all.

"Of course it will. Something like this can't keep going. It can't support it's own weight."

Finnick let it go there, no sense in giving Eddie more shit when he had a very good reason to indulge his vice at the moment.

"You're making me think they'll blow this arena up and just let it all collapse. The lucky one or two who aren't crushed can fight it out at the end, right?"

That was a terrible idea and he hoped that no one in charge was around to hear it. He shook his head and looked for the closest alcohol to soothe his now troubled mind.

"Don't give them any ideas, man." Eddie said, shaking his head. But there was a smile on his lips. He was sure, whatever the gamemakers came up with, it would be far worse than any idle chit chat between victors.

His gaze was drawn again to the hologram, looking at a moving bright dot at it moved from one floor to another. There was a handful of dots scattered about, and he wanted to back seat drive, to tell whomever that dot was to get the hell out of there.

"Being tired of this shit doesn't mean anything to anyone, does it?"

"I'm sure they have worse ideas already." Finnick took a long sip of his recently acquired drink and followed Eddie's gaze back to the hologram.

"It only means we don't have the money or influence to make it better. So basically, no, it doesn't."

"Sounds about right."

He lifted his hand, summoning an avox for another drink. Something full of caffeine and alcohol was handed to him, and he took a long drink of it.

"So, heard anything from home?"

((Following your lead as to whether Eddie would know who's at home or not.))