thecapitol | (no subject)

WHO| Everyone!
WHAT| A Halloween Ball
WHEN| Halloween night
WHERE| The Tribute Center
WARNING/NOTES| None atm. Please tag in your subject lines if anything comes up.

The Capitol had been winding up to this for weeks. More and more extravagant decorations had begun to appear all over the city. Gruesome alleys dripping with gore, houses transformed into creaking, ancient cobweb covered dwellings, flickering ghosts haunting windows and doorways. The citizens themselves had becomes more and more extravagant as the days crept closer, dripping in glitters spiderwebs, hair teased to coil around pumpkins and crows, and decked out in meticulous costumes, often celebrating past victors, and even current tributes.

The ball at the Tribute Training Center wasn't anywhere near the only party that night, but it was the most extravagant, and the most sought after. The decorations had gone towards the classic (perhaps the goverment realizing other areas might move too close to home.) The building had been transformed into a spooky, ancient looking mansion, over taken by spiders and lit with flickering candles everywhere. The tables were spread with unimaginable heaping of treats, from grotesqueness mock organs to sparkling jewel colored sugar covered candies. Avoxs move about, for once literally ghosts, covered in their own shrouds of spider webs and sheer gauze, holding plates of smoking drinks.

Attendance for the Tributes was mandatory. As were costumes. And oh boy did their stylists go all out for this one. It was a parade and a party all rolled into ones and they weren't going to slack on that.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I hope your future ones go better." Max says in a mild, careful tone.

She has no trouble meeting Wyatt eye to eye. Even in a few seconds of meeting, he reminds her a little of Zack.

"You should try to look like you're having a good time - even if you aren't." she tells him, in a moment's urge to try and be helpful. "You'll have less trouble that way."

Wyatt blinked, once, and then his eyes narrowed, just a fraction as the hair on the back of his neck prickled and heat crept up along his jaw.

No. He didn't particularly like being reminded so blantantly of his failures.

"Ma'am," he replied stiffly. "I wasn't much on lying before I got here, and that's one thing that ain't changed. They wanna kill me for not enjoyin' runnin' around with my shame out for God and all to see, they are welcome to it."

"Don't be an idiot."

Her tone is mild, friendly even, and her lips are hidden by her champagne glass.

"None of us know if we're ever going to go home, but there's definitely zero chance if you're six feet under permanently. You don't have to like it. Just look like you do. You strike me as the sort who's a survivor. Think about what I'm saying for a minute. Really think about it."

Max shrugs. It's all she can do to help the guy. She starts to walk away.

A glass appeared by his hand - apparently the bartender knew his face well enough to know what he was there for - and he snatched it up, turning the other way to return to his corner.

On some level he could see the intelligence in her statement, give them what they want, make them happy, and in return things would be easier for you.

But at what cost? What would he lose? Would he still be same man?

Taking up the shadows again, he sipped and watched and pondered.

Watching Wyatt slip into a more shadowy corner of the party, Max shook her head a little. He really does seem like the decent sort.

Resolving to seek him out later, Max returned her attention to the party, a smile plastering onto her face like a well-fit mask.