etcircenses: (Default)
Panem Events ([personal profile] etcircenses) wrote in [community profile] thecapitol2014-01-19 10:47 pm

(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.
void_whereprohibited: (and the sun has charred the other side)

[personal profile] void_whereprohibited 2014-02-07 03:19 pm (UTC)(link)
Being listened to, Cecil is used to. He has closed his eyes when he broadcasts before, the better to imagine the invisible thousands sitting rapt before him; he has caught himself addressing people he can see as listeners. Being watched is newer to him. Being watched with the expression on Katurian's face... that has never happened. He wonders if everyone who listens to him looks like this; if this is the face he should be picturing on the rapt thousands, or if it's just Katurian.

"--Thanks!" he interrupts his thoughts to say, and it's genuine-- not just the thanks of someone who's heard what he expected to hear. He chuckles-- "I mean, I would hope I'm good with words. I am a professional radio broadcaster, after all."

He tries again to place Katurian, and cannot. Whoever he is, he is not the kind of person who appears in interviews. (A Gamemaker?) And so Cecil puts out his hand, with a broad smile, to turn this man into someone he knows. "Cecil Palmer. Or, Cecil. Cecil's fine."