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

[punchdrunkvictory]

"And if I have?" He gave her a cheeky grin, finishing off his drink and turning to get the attention of one of the waitresses to get him another.

[mannersmatter]

She pursed her lips, giving him the look.

"Haymitch, we have work to do to get ready for this next arena, and I was hoping meeting you in a bar would make you a bit more open to it, but really, if you're going to get drunk so fast, i don't know what I'll do with you."

All of that in one breath.

[punchdrunkvictory]

"And what exactly did you have in mind for getting ready? Preparing them for their inevitable death and even more inevitable revival?"

So maybe he'd said something close to it before. But it was true. A never ending cycle that Snow watched very closely. Too closely for everyone's good.

[mannersmatter]

"You are so...fatalistic about all this. Look at the last...well, I mean not the last game but...Katniss and Peeta. We got BOTH of them out."

She tapped the smooth table with her jeweled nails, for emphasis. All the emphasis angrily tapping her nails could give.

[punchdrunkvictory]

She was right. Both of them got out. But once they got out, they were under the finger of the Capitol. All of the victors were, and it made him absolutely sick. He had no doubt that the Capitol was watching even him, a drunk who had seemed to stop caring again.

"There'snot going to be two ever again, Effie."

They won't allow it.

[mannersmatter]

"Well, we don't need two. Not at once. Just one at a time. Don't you want 12 to reap the benefits of winning again, all the rewards..."

Her voice was getting shriller, her frustration with him more obvious. Remembering they were in public, she brought it down a few notches, glowering at him over the table.

"Why do you never take this seriously? I would think you would, more than I!"