thecapitol | (no subject)

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Howard looks torn between being sick and bursting into tears. "Ah."

That there might be a way out doesn't even occur to him. He's been a victim of awful circumstance long enough that he doesn't imagine escape. Profiteering, maybe. He knows how to make good of a bad situation. But not escape.

And is there a way to profiteer here? You could play to win and sell your soul. Or you could die early, intentionally even, and what happens then, when the sponsors get bored?

"So we just have to live with it?" He gives a weird laugh. Live with it. "And what do we do in between, except go to shitty parties?"

"Pretty much..."

Seeing all the realization they had all come to crash down on his face at once like that...well, it broke her heart all over. She reached out, to give him a comforting squeeze.

"We have each other. Not all of us are...normal, but many are not so bad."

He doesn't move to return the hug, but he doesn't stop her either. It's just strange, he hasn't been hugged in a while. "And what about the ones that are? Who do I need to watch out for?"

She looks fretfully back in towards the party. This game had turned so many rules upside down.

"There's a lot of new people, like yourself, and I haven't gotten to see to much footage...Grey is a scary one. It's hard to tell...people shifted, inside and outside."

"This kind of thing brings out the worst in people." Including himself. His face has a hollow expression like he knows this as a truism, rather than merely a supposition. He's seen perfectly nice kids lose their minds and kill each other in scenarios that didn't even spell out 'fight to the death'. "I guess asking which ones are obviously messed up isn't that useful if they're going to grind us all down eventually."

His last sentence sent shivers down her spine.

Eventually.

"We'll find a way through." She said, though it wasn't nearly as perky as she would hope.

He shrugs. He doubts it. "One foot after the other, I guess."

She nodded.

"I think that's the best way to do it. Maybe the only way."