Conscientia

[gamemakers]

WHO| Open
WHAT| Night life at the Speakeasy
WHEN| Evenings this week
WHERE| The Speakeasy
WARNINGS/NOTES| Feel free to use this party post style, or however you like if you would like to set any threads here.

The speakeasy was a classy joint. Wood panels, and soft velvet, and usually some kinda of live music, something mellow and easy to relax to. It was big, with low ceilings and with many back rooms, some easy to access, others less so. Easy to get lost in. And it gave off an air of class, of comfort, and being a part of something a little different from the rest. The kinda place where everybody knew your name, and everybody knew to be discreet about it.

It was the perfect place to grab a drink, sit, talk, and relax. No one over heard you, no one got in your business, but everyone was glad to talk if you wanted to find a friendly face. The owner, Conscientia, made her round every now and then, saying hello to her regulars, welcoming those who were new.

Comments

[nofunandgames]

He was waiting for company, rolling a glass between his palms. It was good alcohol, and as such he was only sipping at it.

But even then, it was keeping his nerves down.

Which was a very good thing right now.

[the_marshal]

Spotting Elias from across the room, Wyatt extracted himself politely from his conversation with Effie and made his way over.

"A man after my own tastes," he greeted his mentor, resting a hand on the man's shoulder, before moving past and taking a seat on the other side of Elias' table. "I mighta known you'd be here."

[nofunandgames]

"You'll find it's a very good place to be. Did you have any trouble finding it?"

All the mentors knew of the Capitol's new credit system Worrisome, but also useful to have them out and about. Harder to keep track of.

[buildingreality]

She made it right on time, as was her preference, dressed to fit in with the decor of the room; Ariadne didn't like sticking out, especially not for this sort of meeting, and it seemed as though the place had been chosen just for that. It didn't take her long to find Elias, slipping into a seat beside him with a light smile.

"Were you waiting long?"

[nofunandgames]

He returned her smile. It wasn't a hard thing to do.

"Not long at all. Would you like a drink?"

It was easy enough to catch a waiter here, and he lifted a hand to grab someone for her.

[luckofthedevil]

This generally wasn't Alex's sort of hangout. But it was almost the most normal of all the various places Alex had seen so far around the Capitol. And though he was loath to use this 'line of credit' he'd been given, he grabbed a stool at the bar and ordered a Coke, hoping the bartender knew what one was. He kept his eyes away from the other patrons, shoulders hunched in a desire for some small degree of privacy in the city that didn't want him to have any.

[mannersmatter]

Business was set aside for now, and Effie was enjoying a drink. This was such a classy little spot, and really, she'd been a little surprised Haymitch had offered it as a place to come discuss business.

But she was enjoying it, for sure.

Haymitch had vanished somewhere. It had been long enough Effie was considering going to track him down. But short enough she wasn't quite ready to go just yet. Instead she took another sip of her electric green drink, playing with the stra sunk down into it's frozen depths.

[setfires]

Cinna saw the bright thing that was Effie. He smiled a bit to himself at the idea of of her here, enjoying a drink, but he managed to change it into a smile that was pleased to see her.

"Effie," he said by way of letting her know that he was joining her. "Care if I join you?"

[the_marshal]

Wyatt didn't really fit in anyplace the Capitol had to offer. Even if he hadn't been a tribute, and didn't have people whisperin' and pointin' and otherwise grinding his last nerves, it all seemed so... wrong. So loud, so crowded, so... false.

But then he found this place and while it wasn't perfect, it was the closest he'd come and he figured he could at least give it a chance.

At least he get a drink in this place without feeling like he wanted to shove a red-hot poker in his eyes, or ears, or both.

Sliding up the bar, he tipped his hat at the tender and ordered a round.

[itsananimalthing]

Sometimes the costumes in this city blew a guy's mind. Even Riddick's, who had seen some crazy-ass costumes on various planets in his time. Effie, of course, was one of the crazier ones. So when he found her at the bar, when he came back for another drink, he had to snort a little laugh.

"Don't that color make your eyes hurt?" he asked. He knew who she was, of course, but he'd been meaning to ask her that for days now.

[punchdrunkvictory]

Haymitch had disappeared into his own corner, sitting at a table tucked away into the corner, nursing a drink that he'd been working at all night.

Business was a priority. He'd invited Effie along to test the waters with her, and to give whomever might be closely a reason to think there would be no business going on tonight.

Another sip. Anymore waiting and he'd have to order another drink.

[setfires]

Cinna had been avoiding public appearances since the new games had started. He had mostly been locked up in his room, letting rumors of the next visionary piece of art swirl around his hermit like ways. The Speakeasy was the perfect cover to pull him out of his workship, just as it had been crafted to be.

"Let me buy you the next round," he said as he slid in next to Haymitch. To anyone who looked at them, it was a perfectly natural thing for him to do. After all they were the mentor and stylist for the same district.

[mannersmatter]

"There you are!"

Effie didn't wait for an invite, sliding into the booth next to Haymitch and scooting across in that awkward way one made it into a booth in a short skirt.

"You haven't been drinking the whole time have you?"

[warbles]

It still hadn't sunk in. Maybe, when he was rounded up and sent off to whatever Arena they had put together, maybe when he had to fight for his life, the reality of the situation would sink in. But, he'd woken up in The Capitol, in his room on the third floor for a few days now. He never awoke back in Lima. Nightbird would find a way. But, if Blaine were honest with himself - and he had no choice to be here - he wasn't Nightbird. Nightbird was an extracurricular activity and a costume he put on to make himself feel better.

He'd figured out the credit system but only ventured out a few times. He didn't want to get lost, being so new. He was told there were maps but fooling around with those... he just didn't trust himself. He was assaulted with information and sounds and unrecognizable people who did not know fashion.

And boy did that make him miss Kurt.

On Saturday, he found his way to the Speakeasy. He'd enjoyed his one night out at Scandals but because it wasn't what Kurt went for, he'd refrained from returning. In truth, he was a Scandals guy. He liked to dance and comically drink to the small lightweight proportions of his liver but this was a lot more mellow. It was quiet and classy and what he'd think people in a place called The Capitol would do if they didn't look so garish.

He found a table by himself and ordered a soda. He didn't know what else to order and he didn't want to mess with getting alcohol. Plus, he knew himself after alcohol. Unleashing that here would just be... a bad idea.

[setfires]

Cinna had been a bit of a recluse since they had closed the Capitol. He had finally pulled himself from the workshop to come out for a drink. He noticed the dark haired boy and watched him for a moment before going up to him.

Children had always been the target of the Games, but at least the ones here knew what was happening to them. It didn't make it right, nothing could ever made this right, but at least they weren't pulled from their lives and stuck in a new reality without a clue as to what they were about to face. They hadn't been raised being forced to watch the Games every year, hadn't seen others from their Districts slaughtered before their eyes, didn't know what the Gamemakes were like.

There was something so depressing about taking people from another world to force them to compete. Cinna wanted to help in any way that he could. He got up and moved to introduce himself to whoever this young man was.

"Here, let me pay for your pop. You don't want to use credit for something like that." He was different from the other citizens at the Capitol. Even just his clothes, which were black and simple, set him apart. The only hint of the Capitols trends in make up was the line of gold on his eyelids.

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

Howard, like Blaine, has decided to shy away from the alcohol. It's that shared interest, in not getting wasted in front of unknown people, that brings him to Blaine's table. Howard has other reasons for not liking booze, but that's an important one, and he feels no shame in it no matter how often the non-Tributes dropped hints to him that it wouldn't be hard for a Tribute to get a drink despite clearly being half a decade underage.

"You mind if I sit here? This place got kind of busy." Howard's got some energy drink they had at the back of the bar. Glancing at the ingredients list, he's wondering if it might have been better to ask for water, but calories are calories and he's still pulling himself back from the further edges of starvation. He doesn't really wait for Blaine's answer as he sits down and pops the tab on the can, sniffing at it and turning it over in his hand as if certain the contents are going to give him botulism.

Blaine's not got the usual Capitol citizen attire, or, more evidently, the usual Capitol citizen attitude, which usually entails being nosy and a certain air of someone backstage at a red carpet event crossed with a tourist at the zoo. Howard squints and runs his tongue over his teeth.

"So what's your deal?"

[warbleronsmythe]

Sebastian still couldn't believe that he had been plucked from his comfortable dorm room of Dalton Academy, only to wake up on the second floor of the Tributes' building, and had no idea what was going on. Trying and trying again, closing his eyes and opening them, wanting to be back in Westerville, in the comforts of his Dalton blazer, but with no such luck. The comforts from home just weren't there anymore.

A saturday night out on the town sounded like a good idea to him, so he ended up tagging along with a group to a Speakeasy. Not his favourite type of thing, as he likes nightclubs more, but it was something to do, and hopefully somewhere he could get alcohol, because, let's be honest, knowing he'd have to fight for his life in the future, he needed some alcohol.

Walking in, he looked around, seeing if there was any chance that he'd find someone he knew, and to his incredibly happy surprise, he saw Blaine.

Sauntering over to his table, looking down at him, smirking that Sebastian smirk, "This seat taken?"

[makeflowersgrow]

GIN!

Eponine is way too young to be drinking gin really, even in her world. But she whines and she wheedles and she begs at the bar. After all, what does it matter for a tribute?

So Eponine downs her first and begs her second, taking it back to a small table in a corner to sip slowly, and savour.

She sits on her hands, leaning forward, obviously uncomfortable in the relative fancy environment. She watches the other people carefully, wary for trouble and simply interested in the other customers. And, always at the back of her mind, she was trying to work out a scheme for paying her bar tab at the end of the night.

[setfires]

Cinna sat at the bar nursing a single drink. He had been working all day, and was giving himself a bit of a break.

The famed Stylist of District 12, available for conversation to anyone who wants it. Cinna managed to give off a friendly vibe no matter where he was or how much he was drinking.

[makeflowersgrow]

[There's a young girl at the bar, somehow scruffy despite wearing clothes obviously manufactured in the Capitol. She's drinking; gin, mixed with water, apparently. And she keeps on sneaking looks at Cinna. She can't help herself. She says nothing; she doesn't know what to say.

Instead, Eponine runs her fingers through her knotty hair, pulling it first over her face, and then back away again.

She glances over at Cinna again, and offers a slight smile.]

WHEN DID LENNY KRAVITZ GET HERE

[polyturtle]

Speaking of Stylists. Sort of.

Don was with Lottie and Some, but had...sort of wandered off. Not purposefully. He had actually been observing the decor, which reminded him of the Roaring 20s. Even if most of the people had no clue what that meant.

But then he spotted Cinna. And the turtle had the urge to talk to him. Not because of anything underhanded, but rather, because of his own Stylist problem.

So, slowly but surely, he made his way to Cinna.

"...Hi."

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

Once someone pointed Cinna out to Howard, he made his decision to approach. He bothers to straighten his clothes and gather his bearings first, because he thinks he should try and make a good impression, and generally making good impressions isn't his strong suit.

He stands a bit awkwardly by a seat next to Cinna's table, as if asking permission to sit down. And he waves a hand. "Hi, are you Cinna?"

[gruesome]

Some had invites from restaurants before, and he had run out of ways to politely defer them. An article in a recent rag had been all full of completely erroneous speculation about his species, including a rather spectacular drawing of him eating live birds. So, though he dreaded trying to stomach the offerings in a human restaurant, he (and his mentor) felt the need to be seen at least trying. And he needed support.

[polyturtle]

Well, who better to accompany Some than Donatello?

Don had to consider himself lucky. He could eat normal human food and not have a problem with it. Unlike poor Some, who ate...other things, obviously. He wasn't sure if Some ate human or not. Technically, he had nothing to worry about either way, but still...

For now, Donatello was looking through the menu, looking for something that might be palatable to Some.

[itsananimalthing]

A pair of night-sighted creatures in the same restaurant. Who'd've thunk it? Riddick had to admit that the multi-eyed, multi-limbed monster was interesting, at least. So when he wandered into a different restaurant than his usual-- he was sick of Tessurae and needed a break from the constant barrage of death-statistics there-- and spotted Some, he angled that direction once he'd gotten his drink.

"So what do you eat?" he opened the conversation with. Nothing particularly polite, of course, but that didn't mean Riddick was planning on being rude. Exactly.