thecapitol | (no subject)

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WHO| Everyone in the Capitol
WHAT| A must attend events, as the game start to come to their peak.
WHEN| Mid-way through week four
WHERE| A warehouse on the edge of town.
WARNING/NOTES| Alcohol, drugs, possible more. Crazy partying. If your tribute is dead this week, it is up to your discretion whether they are there or not (don't worry if you have not in game killed them, we can turn a blind idea to wiggly time lines by a day or two if you wanna jump in)

As usual, the Capitol was tactful and discreet in their party themes.

Nah.

An old warehouse had been converted for this shindig, and filled with bright violet lights that made anything pale glow vividly. Attire among the guest had taken advantage of this; pale, neon colored clothes, many made with transparent layers, and dripping with neon paint. When there were clothes at all. More than a few people had opted to just decorate themselves with paint, glowing vividly under the black lights.

The music was loud, often interwoven with air raid sirens, the place well stocked with florid cocktails treats that seemed to smolder, carried around by avoxes in gas masks. And with the right words, it was more than easy to find anything else you might like.

The couple throwing this party were known for walking just on the edge of acceptable, their parties always pushing taboos. Which made them that much more gossiped about. Still, the faces seen weren't those usually seen rubbing elbows at these things: a younger, wilder crowd.

But the hosts had made sure to drop enough cash in the right hands to be sure, whether it was their scene or not, all their favorite tributes were there.

Large screens showed the games, though often altered in strange, bright glowing colors. In the center was a large sculpture, filled through with it own bright green iridescent fluid, rolling around in a hypnotic, phosphorescent patterns, turning all those near is a vivid, toxic green.

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Ariadne was a little bit more used to the parties that the Capitol liked to throw by now; she found that complaining about them did her no good whatsoever, and merely wasted her breath. In fact, the more she went along with, the more people seemed to like her. And that was very useful right now, especially if she wanted to keep some of her - well, not her, per se - Tributes safe and alive for as long as possible.

So yes, she had gone with the dress code stated for the evening. Yes, she felt incredibly awkward showing off that much of her body. No, she wasn't going to complain.

Ariadne's stylists had done her up that night in a barely there sort of outfit: a bright red shirt with a transparent mesh back and merely a thin strip of fabric to cover up her front, a pair of skin-tight shorts, and more glowing paint than she really knew what to do with. Her hair had been pulled up out of the way into a messy sort of bun, though that hadn't saved it from the streaks of paint glowing through.

She couldn't help but watch the screens a little as she bopped to the music, reminded a little of the parties she'd avoided in her youth. The Games still raged on, and they were all partying. Apparently that was the norm.

The next thing Dean knew, he woke up in his apartment bed, good as new. He knew his head was getting bitten off, and he was sick last time he checked, but now? He felt like a million bucks. It was great.

Getting up, happy that he could actually move, he saw an outfit, or part of one on the edge of his bed. Pink Pants, and a pair of black boots. Looking at his chest in the mirror, he was covered in neon paint; pink, orange, green, and blue. All things he would never normally wear, but there they were, bright colours on his body.

While in the mirror, he checked for scars, anything, and he was practically as good as new. So, he felt it would be probably a good idea to go to the rave.

After getting dressed, and struggling to walk in the boots, he arrived at the party, and headed towards the bar. First thing he needed was a drink, following that, he walked around a bit, looking for familiar faces. The first face he saw was Ariadne. And when he saw her, his face lit up and he ran towards her, pulling her into a hug.

She was nothing short of completely surprised when she was suddenly enveloped in a hug. It was a good distraction from not-really-dancing, though she was fairly certain that it was doing well to get swirls of paint smudged further across her skin, and she managed to twist enough to return the hug a bit awkwardly before figuring out who it was.

A little smile tugged at her mouth, and she tipped her head, looking almost expectantly up at him. "Hi," Ariadne greeted lightly, voice lifted to carry above the music, "You're back."

Dean smiled back at her, not even caring that the paint was all over him, or her, and really not caring if it was on his god-awful pants. "I am back. And so relieved to see you. The arena was horrid, and you saw how I died, so. Yeah."

Leaning down, he got right by her ear, so no one else could hear, "And that kiss with Anna? Was for sponsors. Nothing more. Not gonna lie. Pretended it was you."

It was far from the first time they'd run into each other at a party - they'd hung out at a handful of parties before the Arena had actually started, each time going the same way as the first - but this was definitely the most excited he'd been to see her. Doubtless because of the solid ground beneath his feet, and the lack of people trying to kill him for now.

"You got the knife, though," she pointed out quietly, letting his hands linger on him briefly when he leaned down to her ear. The comment, whether it was true or not - Ariadne wasn't like the vast majority of girls, who turned into tittering messes at the first compliment paid, but she certainly appreciated it - drew that small smile a bit wider. She didn't have an opinion of Anna just yet, hadn't met the Tribute, and certainly didn't care what she did, but there was no denying the little flutter in her stomach at the idea of being the one that someone was thinking of.

"Flattery gets you nowhere," she murmured then, just a little white lie. He reminded her of Arthur, in a way. If Arthur ditched the three-piece suits and took up hunting.

He nodded, "I did get it, and it was much appreciated. But with that sickness, I was at the point where I'd rather die and come back than attempt to win that stupid thing. Plus. Totally worth it to see you in this outfit." Smirking, he eyed her body, licking his lips. He may be a flirt, and he may compliment well, but he still has the libido of a sixteen year old boy.

"Well. I could always kiss you, but not sure if I'd get slapped or not."

"I didn't expect them to poison everyone." And it really had been a little bit unnecessary, even if it had obviously done the trick. The Arena went by faster than the previous few, with more violent deaths. She already knew the Capitol was clamouring for this sort of thing, where death was a daily occurrence, where the culling of Tributes was as brutal as during the Cornucopia.

She ducked her head slightly at the look, tucking a loose lock of hair behind her ear at the way he was looking her over. "Don't get used to it; I don't plan on making a habit of it," she told him, a teasing thread worming its way through the words as she dryly smirked up at him.

"Do you think you would?"

Nods in agreement, "Neither did I. It killed any chance I had of winning, and then Donatello showed up, and I just gave in. Or at least I think it was Don... kinda looked like him. Either way. It's better to be here, with you, out of the arena and not dying than back in there." That was the worst sickness he'd felt, and the angels had tortured him with a lot of different things, even hell torture didn't seem like anything before that.

Smirking, licking his lips, "Well, I'll just have to enjoy it now then won't I?" Thinking for a moment at her comment, then shaking his head. He doesn't even care. He's wanted to kiss her for almost as long as he'd known her. So, leaning down, bringing a hand to cup her cheek, Dean pressed his lips to Ariadne's, first very softly, but slowly making it a bit more heated.

"It was Don," she confirmed for him, frowning a little. The very thought of Don's transformation sent shivers down her spine; she was glad she'd won the last Arena thanks to him, rather than having to face the monster the Arena made him. Even if the Capitol wasn't much better, filled with parties and sensations of being unwelcome, at least it ended every once in a while, typically with flattery like this. It brought a little smile back to her lips, not quite alleviating the worry for Don's well-being, but it wasn't like she could do anything about it anyway.

The last time she had been spontaneously kissed had been by Arthur, in her dream. This was about the same, she felt, with a soft mouth covering hers without really much verbal warning at all, though the signs had all been there; she had seen it coming, but that didn't really change it. She kissed him back, slow and gradual, one hand briefly moving to brush against his chest; she stepped perhaps half a step into it, leaning up a little bit more to lessen the slightly awkward height difference.

Knowing it was his friend, and one of his favourite characters from when he was a kid watching cartoons, that made the kill sting a little bit more than it already had. Sure, getting decapitated by some turtle-monster was bad, but it being someone you thought was your friend? That made is so much worse. He had to forget about it, he wasn't permanently dead, though, he never was, and he was here with Ariadne, so that made it better.

Feeling soft, female lips against his, finally being able to kiss someone, it was.. relieving. The last time he'd kissed someone was just after he'd gotten out of hell, and he felt like a virgin again. Ari's lips were even softer than he'd expected, especially being in a place like that. His arm wrapped a bit tighter around her as she moved closer, pulling her closer to him.

From there on out, everything about the kiss was decidedly different. She was perhaps a bit of a terrible person, focusing on the minute details of how it physically felt, rather than the more obvious emotional feelings, but that was just how she was. Even as the music seemed to fade out slightly - a psychosomatic inclination she was grateful for, considering the horrendous noise they were calling music (and she actually liked some house music) - and she was rendered unable to actually state that she disliked it with any kind of certainty, Ariadne remained at least somewhat detached. That wasn't to say that she wasn't getting into it, because she most definitely was, her hand climbing Dean's chest, slipping around broad shoulders to keep from getting between them when her body decided it would much rather remain pressed fully to him.

Though he wasn't sure what his head, heart, and stomach were up to in regards to the kiss, he was enjoying it none the less. Her small frame against his made him smile against her lips. It was nice to just.. be close to someone, after what the arena was like and being pulled from home. The music had become something in the distance, something that felt completely unimportant, just like the dance floor and the other people in the room, because in that moment, Dean felt it was just him and Ariadne, and no one else mattered. Sure, that was probably a bad feeling to have, since he had no idea what the kiss meant, but either way, he was going to enjoy it until it had to be finished.

After a few moments, he gently pulled away from the kiss, only due to the human need for air. The green-eyed hunter was panting slightly, and just smiled down at her, "you're one hell of a kisser, Ari."

It was rare for her to get any sort of nickname from anyone - anyone who knew her well enough to give her one had usually just stuck with 'Ariadne' - and so Dean's short-form of that brought mild amusement to her expression. At the very least, it was better than any kind of negative reaction.

She remained close to him, hand on his chest as she looked back up at him, hesitating to catch her breath a little. "You're not too bad yourself."

Curiosity and recklessness drove her next comment, a teasing remark that could almost be heard as flirting: "So did it live up to your imagination?"

Flashing his typical smug smirk, always proud to please a woman, even if it's just through kissing, his arms still around the much smaller of the two.

"Oh yeah. Definitely. Kissing like that would have made the arena so much more tolerable. Possibly even enjoyable." Offering a wink, still looking at her, but not sure what else to say.

At times, she felt almost as though he was overly confident; then again, it was rather endearing, so she wasn't about to say anything. Just let him keep her there, making up for the fact that she wasn't wearing that much clothing with his body heat.

"Somehow, I get the feeling you wouldn't have been able to get the chance in the Arena. Possibly for the best. You might have died sooner," she pointed out. "Did you want to get out of here? I think we've put in our respective appearances."

Not knowing for sure if she was cold or not, though remembering his Halloween costume, and the lack of clothing, he was sure she must have been, so his arms remained around her, if only to make sure she stayed warm.

"At this point, dying is second nature to me. Though head being bitten off by a monster, that was a new one. But I've died almost every other way you can imagine." Shrugging, then breaking out into a smile, "I would love to get out of here."

Even if she weren't at least somewhat cold - the room was warm enough, but it was the point of the thing - she probably still would have stayed close. She had no complaints on the matter, after all.

She drew away a little bit then, nodding off in the direction of the door, one hand brushing against his forearm in an invitation, "You've got me curious now. I still can't figure out how someone could die like that, over and over; you're going to have to explain it to me."

Following her gaze, then offering a half-smile half-smirk, "Find us somewhere private and I can tell you all about my epic adventures from back home."

"I know just the place," she told him, giving him another lingering flicker of a smile before turning away, starting to slip through the crowd towards the exit; there were more than enough quiet places in the Capitol, especially when there was a party like this going on.

He smiled back at her, looking around the room one more time before following her out.

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