Panem Events (
etcircenses) wrote in
thecapitol2014-01-19 10:47 pm
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(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.
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.
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This meeting was going well.
"You'll have to talk to Effie about that, then. Or Cinna. Or someone who actually works at keeping my flames going."
She rolled her eyes, glancing over her shoulder to see if there was anyway she could catch Peeta's attention to come rescue her.
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But on the surface, her expression remained the same, blank, slightly accusing, slightly angry.
"I played the game. You played some sort of lovey-dove story. And now everybody loves you. And you don't even know what you're doing."
She leaned in close as she hissed her words at Katniss, finishing by attempting an ostentatious kiss to Katniss' cheek.
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Katniss didn't manage to duck away in time, and any snappy reply was cut off by the fact that Johanna had just kissed her.
On the cheek, yes, but...what the hell. Reaching up to touch her cheek, she stared at Johanna, slack jawed.
What the hell.
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"I thought you'd be a bit better at it than that. Peeta's a lucky guy."
She cackled a little, lifting her head to make sure that her laughter was clearly audible to the rest of the room.
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Was she really insulting her kissing skills? Was this really happening to her right now?
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She shrugged. "Actually, his arrogance or your lovey-dovey patheticness. I don't know which makes me feel more sick."
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How did this even happen right now. And the mention of Cato put her already frayed nerves on end. She didn't know what to do. Right never everything told her to attack, but she knew that wasn't going to go over too well.
And did you attack someone who kissed you?
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"We're suppose to be saving people, not discussing kissing!" Her voice was getting louder with her frustration, unsure how to deal with this. Nothing seemed to be making it stop.
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"Oh yeah?" She asked lazily. "Well, how are you planning on saving them? You gonna send them all poison berries?"
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Glancing around, she saw the room already starting to forget her and Johanna's entertainment, going to their own matters. There was that, at least.
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"And it'd kill them. Or have you not got it yet, Katniss? They're not all gonna be saved if they threaten suicide. You've gotta teach 'em how to fight. How to swing an axe or shoot a bow or whatever the hell skill Peeta has, except clinging onto someone way more powerful than him to cop a free ride to the final showdown." Johanna laughed, completely unamused. She had nothing against Peeta - actually, she quite liked Peeta really. She just wanted to get a rise out of Katniss.
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"And he's smarter than most this room."
You included. But she kept that in. And, to be fair, she was included too.
"And we do teach them. When they'll learn." Even if she wasn't sure if she was a good mentor, she didn't like Johanna questioning it. Even if being on the defensive made her feel childish.
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"Oh yeah?" God, Katniss sounded so much like a kid. A whiny, bratty kid. It was quite funny, though Johanna kept her laughter hidden. "You teaching them how to paint pretty pictures?"
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She had a feeling, as soon as it was out, that maybe she'd gone too far.
But she also didn't know how much she really cared right now.
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"Watch your back." She hissed at Katniss as she stalked off. But then Johanna stopped herself, and doubled back.
"Better yet, watch Peeta's."