(no subject)

[akingalways]

Who| Jack Atlas and OPEN
What| The Director of District 8 Commodity Control is throwing a masque in honor of the current Games. Everyone is, of course, encouraged to attend.
Where| Anomaly Restuarant
When| The end of Week 2
Warnings| None at the moment, though this will be updated if anything changes!

When the Director threw a party, everyone knew. Not just because of the fact of who he was, but the fact that he always threw a costume party. Always. And this was no exception. What was different was that it was thrown, not at the mansion, where previous parties had always been, but at a public restaurant. The official reason was that the mansion was undergoing a planned renovation, and it was sadly behind schedule. Of course the party venue was forced to change!

Not that it was a bad thing. The restaurant was appropriately decorated for the Arena-themed party, transformed into a tropical paradise "exhibit" with mechanical parrots flying around, and mosquito nets strewn all over various "wax figures". Or, as those not playing along with the theme would call them, the wait staff, all dressed in various exhibit clothing to reflect those found in the museum. The menu was all over the place, too - everything from "gift shop" chocolate truffles to "space pizza" to "Roosevelar's Bull Moose Rib Rack" could be had. And best of all, no one was complaining. After all, what did a little renovation hurt when the substitute was hardly lacking?

But Jack knew better. The party was supposed to be at the mansion, but that was the only true part of the story. In reality, the graffiti had appeared, mysteriously, all over the Director's gilded ballroom and on the outside walls the day before. Naturally, once the Peacekeepers had moved in to investigate, the matter on the party's location - not to mention its fate - was very quickly settled. Ironic, really, given how the Director had once claimed to Jack that throwing a party at such a place was out of the question.

At least Jack himself was not under suspicion for the crime. This time. But what about next time? They had almost condemned him for an accident; was it really so far of a stretch they could punish him for...nothing at all?

It was a question he'd have to push aside tonight. He was dressed in a leafy green frock coat, wearing a mask inspired by the tribal masks in the Arena. Because, on top of being a costume party, it was also a museum-inspired masque, and Jack was apparently meant to be a bird camouflaged in the jungle - a callback to his time in a more recent Arena as well as a nod to the current. A bird that had to chat up everyone with a smile underneath, in hopes that they would continue to bet on those District 8 Tributes still in the Arena, praying his eyes sparkled and his laugh sounded genuine enough. And - knowing how these parties would go - it would be an all night affair.

Hopefully, they wouldn't run out of Blue Mountain coffee before then.

Comments

[revvinguptheharley]

Harley could hardly resist an excuse to party. Especially after a couple weeks of being gloomy because of losing in the first day of the arena.

So she did what she always did. She ate junk food, whined to her mentors, worked out, spontaneously yelled at Capitol Citizens and thanks to one of her mentors? She found a party.

So clad in a mask she blatantly stole from a movie that made her nostalgic for Poison Ivy she slid through the crowd, gracefully twirling and twisting to the music. She slithered around couples and giggled impishly when people were startled by her creeping up on them.

She'd do better next time. But for now she had to earn face while hiding hers.

[splendid_roman]

Ian was one of the ones Harley had startled and he jumped, then did a double take at her mask. He glared at her while his heart rate settled down again. "What is that?"

[revvinguptheharley]

She giggles gleefully and wobbled her head like some kind of demonic bobblehead.

"What'sa matter? You never seen a spirit of mischief before?"

[void_whereprohibited]

She runs into Cecil on the edge of the dance floor, where he's hovering in a burial mask and suit, scanning the crowd for Tributes with increasing irritation. He's been here an hour and hasn't seen a single Tribute-- or, maybe he has, but he certainly hasn't recognized any--

"--Hey!" Okay. So she doesn't run into him, but she appears in his peripheral vision all at once, out of the blind spot left by the deep eyeholes of the mask, and he is not expecting it. His hands come up in surprise, and his wineglass does as well - leaving a deep red stain on his gold-and-black sleeve.

"Ugh," he exclaims, turning to fix the intruder with a glare visible even through the mask. "Come on! You want to look where you're going, maybe?"

[revvinguptheharley]

Harley whirled about at the voice admonishing her and drew herself up to her complete (all be it short) height trying to appear looming and menacing in response. The deep dark pits where the eye holes were on her mask seemed to draw in all the light around them and snuff it out.

"Hmmmm?"

[burnedbrighter]

Azula was pleased with this party.

At first she wondered what the point of hiding was when you went out in public to be seen. But she realized all too soon those that wanted to be seen would be figured out easily

And in this case she was allowed to glide amongst the mentors and sponsors only revealing herself when she desired.

In an outfit of various blues she enjoyed the way the light fabric allowed air to caress her body through it. This was an outfit that breathed. Far too light for the cold temperatures outside but she had a heavy fur cloak to keep the chill at bay.

And so she lurked, and lingered, and listened in on others for anything that may be of use to her.

Or perhaps...just some fun.

[cherryblossomnoose]

The had managed to arrive together, but he'd never truly gotten the chance to speak to the woman who was supposed to be his 'mentor'. He was curious about her, despite how involved she seemed to be with the Games. Subaru had stayed in his room for the better part of the week, and thus, hadn't introduced himself to the others in the suite properly.

He approached her, lifting his mask up in order to talk to her properly, and smiling "You're Azula correct? It's nice to finally meet you."

Despite his curiosity, he was cautious. He'd heard bits and pieces from his escort about her and her temper. But Subaru was not one to assume that much about someone before he'd gotten to know them. He had no clue what she'd been through, and to make judgments based off of what another said was wrong.

[burnedbrighter]

Ah yes, this one. She had been meaning to corner him but had been enjoying the coverage of The Games too much.

She tilted her own mask up enough she could look him in the eye and let her own piercing predatory gaze sink in.

"Ah yes, Subaru. You died so quickly I don't even recall how it happened. Do refresh my memory?"

Her displeasure with him was already apparent.

[splendid_roman]

Having got out of the arena Ian was finding that keeping busy went a long way towards forgetting the pain that involved. He'd found himself a Batman mask and if anyone asked he'd tell them it would be from a museum if it was a comics museum.

He'd got hold of a slice of 'space pizza' and was peering at it, trying to decide what was actually on it and if it was definitely edible.

[akingalways]

It was at that moment that Jack passed by, seeing the quizzical look on Ian's face.

"Its fine," Jack pronounced. "Its just made a different way."

To prove his point, he himself went to take a slice. Or, at least what counted as a slice. Space-vaccumed food was very strange.

[splendid_roman]

Ian didn't look convinced, but tried a bite of it anyway. "It's not bad," he concluded, surprised. "I'm not sure it quite tastes like pizza, but it's nice anyway." So he had another bite.

[cherryblossomnoose]

The escort had told him it was required to attend such a party. Subaru didn't see the point of it. He did as they asked though, complying and listening to them rattle off why going to such an important party was an honor, even though Subaru was not the Victor of these Games. He couldn't bring himself to listen completely, his mind wandering to other things and people.

The set up was eerily close to the museum's, and it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Well, it wasn't exact of course. There was laughter and music, food on every table, and friendly faces greeting him. He couldn't help the feeling though that he'd feel a hand on his back, pushing him into a tar pit.

Subaru shook his head, banishing the memory. There was no point in dwelling on it, when the people of the Capitol did it for him. He was dressed in black, his shoulders and chest in gray and brown animal furs. The furs were drizzled with a black paint that gave the illusion of tar. The mask he was given reminded him of home, making his heart ache more.

He could barely bring himself to eat, picking here and there at things, while also being polite to any person that came up to him to chat. In reality, he wanted to go back to the suite and sleep.

[void_whereprohibited]

The first days of the Arena were ending, and that meant: Tributes. It was such a reversal of how it had been before, and even months into the new system Cecil found it a wonderful novelty. What a world they lived in, where the best parties were thrown after everyone was dead!

In something like celebration of that fact, Cecil was wearing an Egyptian burial mask in bright gold and black and blue, over a fitted suit in similar colors. His eyes looked out, bright and intent, from the kohl-rimmed eyeholes, and there was a perfectly-shaped space cut out for his mouth - the better not to muffle his voice.

He drifted up beside Subaru without immediately recognizing him. He had been scanning the room for Tributes, finding himself a little annoyed by the prevalence of the masks (How are you supposed to find anybody? Really, now!). A search, he supposed, was nicer with an hor d'ouevre and a glass of wine to hand, and he sipped as he gave Subaru's outfit a glance up and down-- and grinned.

"--The tar pit!" he exclaimed to the side of Subaru's head. "Oh, man, it took me a second-- but I see what you were going for!" His eyes under the mask were wide and friendly - a strange contrast to the mask's severe expression. "Wow. Great idea."

[cherryblossomnoose]

While the man in the Egyptian mask was forward, it was no more forward than anyone else had been. It still surprised him every time it happened. Despite this being the umpteenth time his costume was admired, the reminder that he had died--

Subaru gave the man a small smile, keeping the nerves out of his voice, "My escort said everyone would appreciate its irony."

Maybe he would just have to get used to this? The bright shining faces of people who seemed to revel in these games and their excitement. He wasn't much good against anyone in the area without his magics. Subaru bowed his head, chuckling a bit to hide his nerves better, "I'm glad you like it though. I didn't think I could pull something like this off."

[sabra]

Ziva had only been back in the Capitol a few hours when she'd been accosted by District 6's stylists, armed to the teeth with their own weapons--fabric, feathers and jewels, makeup, and masks. They descend on her like a pack of wolves, circling and tutting and tsking over the state of her hair and clothing.

They put her in a black dress, covered in feathers and lace and fake fur. They straightened and pinned up her unruly brown hair, painted her exposed skin with patterns of silver and black feathers, covered her arms in swirling rhinestones, and covered her face with a mask that did absolutely nothing to hide her identity. They wanted people to know she she was back, after all.

She hated it, felt ridiculous. But this was the way the Capitol's games were played.

She flitted between groups, all false smiles, cheer, and flirtation.

[hostage]

He might be drunk, he might be thrilled to see her, or he might simply be putting on a good show. Whatever the case: when Jesse spots Ziva, he throws his arms into the air and rushes over to embrace her... and to try to plant a kiss - not on her cheek, as with the others, but on her lips.

[splendid_roman]

Ian smiled at the woman, when she approached. "That's a very fancy mask," he said. "I like it."

[akingalways]

Ziva wasn't the only one. Though, there was a difference between her and Jack, whereas Ziva generally shunned the limelight, Jack lived in it. He had seemed to almost revel in it, at least before.

However, he couldn't contain his surprise at seeing Ziva.

"Ah--Miss David."

[thatwasme]

Barbara stumbled with a muffled curse ("Dratted stupid ridiculous shoes!") and a decidedly audible crack as one heel finally gives way. Barbara adjusted most of her weight, managing not to crash down into the floor once more. Unfortunately, it sent her careening into Ziva with a yelp, her own black ensemble (something like The Dark Knight meets the Wheat Queen) and it's half cape fluttering in over-exaggerated movement.

"I'm so sorry!"

[hostage]

Why, Jesse isn't wearing a mask at all. But the District 6 mentor has arrived in a costume of sorts. A knight, maybe, is what his stylists had in mind. Nothing too difficult for him to maneuver in - that was the main point. They're going to have to ease him back into the scene gently and this is his first public appearance since his breakdown and temporary disappearance into morphling hell. It would be embarrassing for the whole team if he stumbled or threw up all over himself.

But he's actually doing pretty well. Parties are his thing. He much prefers them over interviews or televised appearances. He's charming on a personal level; he freezes up in front of a crowd. Here, on the dance floor or by the tables, he comes to life. His face lights up with a smile whenever he recognizes someone who passes him, and he greets every friend with a warm embrace and a kiss on the cheek.

It's like Jesse never went missing.

[thatwasme]

"Did you lose your mask already?" Barbara's smile in return seems almost confused, her own face mostly visible behind a domino mask with an ostentatious silver filigree of wheat curling around one eye, thrusting into the air above her head. If it weren't anchored in part to her ear, and the domino glued in place, Barbara suspected the whole thing would have fallen off ages ago.

"I can help you find it, if you want?"

Jesse wasn't hard to recognize. After the sheer number of times she'd had to pretend not to notice the overt flirting, or misread what he said to truly impressively obtuse levels, he was one of the on again, off again staples she knew among the earlier Victors. That he's back in town, much like she, Johanna, and Finnick, among others, is yet another interesting tidbit of information on top of all the rest.

[savedbyasong]

Shion stood at the outskirts of the party, trying to look like he was mingling with the crowd whilst really just trying to find a space where he could breathe. If he moved too far away thought his escort would get annoyed with him for not trying hard enough.

At least his outfit wasn't too bad this time, a long dark coat, a golden beaked mask, his hair was dyed black but it was mostly hidden under the hat.

He had a chocolate truffle in his hand but he wasn't eating, he did make sure to smile at anyone who passed him.

[thatwasme]

Barbara smiled in return, her own wheat filigree mask on a domino style eye covering ridiculous, particularly paired with the rest of her ensemble. She looked like Captain Night Wheat, in heels and black and a half cape and several crossed ears of wheat at strategic points on her body.

"I like the mask," she said. "It's a water bird, right?"

[thatwasme]

There was always a reason to slide in to places one didn't wish to be in order to check the pulse of anything lying in wait to be found when you got there. Barbara was not a party girl. Her reputation, carefully crafted, was that of the girl-grown-into-young-woman who had a habit of blundering into things you'd rather not have her around. It was a different picture from the young woman she was when dealing with the motorcycles and leisure vehicles preferred in citizen races during the lulls between Games.

Or what used to be the lulls between Games. This quell has changed that landscape as well.

Minimalism had been the key she used when the stylists, lacking a proper group of Tributes to primp and preen until they shone how they preferred, turned their collective eyes on her. Even then, she'd walked out wearing more black than she ever preferred, including the most ludicrous silver buckles with crossed ears of wheat that ended up looking almost bat-like around her waist. The same silver ears of wheat crossed over her chest, arching over the top of each breast and going parallel to her collarbone. The mask was covering over her eyes, more ornate filigree of wheat yet again curling over the left side of her face.

Really, aside from being skin tight and far outside of her preferred realm of clothing, it wouldn't have been so bad -- but then there was the cape. Not just the cape, but the damnable thigh-high boot-heels, which Barbara knew she'd need to be proving were a menace to society before the night was through.

Thus the black wheat knight joined in with the press of hidden faces and often familiar voices, laughing and sliding between and around people as she sought out the ones she was keeping an eye on.

Until she tripped and ending up crashing through some of the mosquito netting, a feat considering it was attached to a person, trapping both herself, the unlucky sod she'd tripped backward into, and a most unlucky mechanical parrot in a jumble of limbs and cape and netting on the floor.

"Oh no! I'm so sorry!" With the controlled fall, both she and her unfortunate partner in the fall were fine, for all they were now quite thoroughly startled. "Are you okay?" About time that her clumsy reputation at these kinds of events start to surface again. She couldn't be too presentable. That led to dangerous places. "Here, hold still, I think I can get us untangled --"

[akingalways]

Jack was in the middle of chatting up an amenable Sponsor (Dr. Holiday? Oh, she's going quite far, poor girl!) when suddenly, a tangle of black and mosquito and who knew what else flew past him, and onto the floor. For a moment, he watched dumbly, not sure what just happened, flute of apple cider a totally alcoholic drink in hand.

He then blinked, realizing what was in front of him. With a sigh and a rub of his temples, he went to grab Barbara, in order to disentangle her.