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

"Think about it." Max prompts gently. "They had the power and technology to pull you from your world to here. Is it such a stretch that they can bring you back to life if you die in the arena?"

Of course they do. They've already broken at least three laws of physics in bringing her here, right? She can feel her chest tighten when the realization dawns on her that she's probably never getting out of here. Goodbye, Manhattan. Goodbye, NYPD. Goodbye, Adam. Goodbye, family. Goodbye, life as she knew it.

"...I'm never leaving this place, am I?" As horrified as she is, it doesn't reach her expression or even her voice. She's just as disgustingly pleasant and happy as before.

Max doesn't lie.

"I don't know."

She allows her tone to be as sincere as she can allow it to be given the eyes watching. Then she holds out her hand. "I'm Max." she says. "District 1, Victor of Arena Two."

"Det--" Of course she begins with her usual introduction but remembers that her rank need not apply here. Which feels strange, in all honesty. "Anna. Uh, District 4."

She shakes Max's hand and leans in to speak much more quietly, giving off all appearances that she's sharing a cute little secret with a friend. "Victor... you won? Were you in the last one too, or do they just cut you loose when you win and make you watch?"

"They don't make you go back in again after you've won, not unless it's a special circumstance. But it's not the usual custom." Max says, sipping her champagne. "They make everybody watch. But when you win, you become a celebrity. Of sorts. You become a mentor to those who go into the arena after you. Sometimes...other things. I wouldn't dwell on it too much."

She lets her gaze go sidelong and she says so quietly that Anna may miss it, "As long as you're alive, there's a chance." A chance for what? She doesn't say. And she's not going to.

It's the mention of other things that concerns her, but she shakes it off for later and simply nods in response. Max's words almost went completely unnoticed, save the fact that Anna managed to read it on her lips when she thought she heard something.

Well, all the cryptic words aside... "Do they always make us look this ridiculous?"

There's a faint smile at that. "The key to dealing with your stylist is letting them know that keeping you happy makes you more willing to show off their work. They're more inclined to compromise when you do that."

Her brows raise in curious satisfaction and she files that away for later. "Psychology, I like it. Any other advice?"

"Would it be fair of me to give you advise that might benefit my own tributes?" Max asks, but then shrugs. "Make allies. Work the system. Take advantage of your environment. It's the same thing I tell everyone."