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

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

"I, uh." He wrings his fist in his other hand, fidgety and nervous. "I'm a tribute."

Duh, Cinna probably knows that, he thinks. "I need advice for finding sponsors."

[setfires]

"What has your mentor told you?" he asked, wondering what these poor souls from other Districts were having to deal with, that they kept coming up to him for advice. Not that he minded giving it out, of course, anything to help the people who had been torn from their lives.

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

"I haven't really met my mentor." Howard looks a bit startled, like he didn't even realize he was supposed to have one. "So far I've just figured I'm supposed to be entertaining and likable, or impressive, and..."

He gestures to himself. "I need some work, I guess."

[setfires]

"When did you arrive?" Cinna asked quietly.

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

"Halfway through the last arena. I got thrown in after everyone got all the resources, so." He makes a throat-slitting gesture. "Didn't last long."

[setfires]

Cinna winced slightly. "I remember. I'm sorry," he said. He let that hang in the hair and didn't go right into explaining things. Just causally changing the subject after talking about someone's death didn't settle right with him. He was going to let Howard start the conversation again.

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

Howard waits a few seconds too long to change the subject. The awkwardness is palpable.

"Anyway." He clears his throat and scuffs his foot. "My stylist kind of wants to sex me up and I just wondered if you had any better ideas, so Ivan say something besides 'no not that' next time they dress me."

[setfires]

"What do you mean when you say 'sex you up?'" Cinna asked, just to get some clarification about what Howard thought qualified for that term. After all the French woman Cinna had spoken with earlier had thought all of it was too sexual.

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

Howard's in much the same boat as Eponine. "You know, just the whole...playing up the good looks thing. My stylist says I'm skinny enough that I could do the androgyny-chic thing but I don't see how that's supposed to get people to want to watch me on TV." Howard doesn't especially think he has good looks, either. He chews at his index finger self-consciously.

[setfires]

Cinna sits forward a bit. "Your Stylists understands our culture better though. They might have a better idea of what will help you..." It's said simply, not meant as an insult. He's only pointing something out.

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

Howard doesn't seem swayed by that advice. He knows he doesn't know the culture here well, but he still feels as if he's been left to flounder here without seeing his mentor and with a stylist who doesn't really communicate a winning strategy to him. "I guess. I mean, I guess you're not really supposed to help people from other districts anyway."

[setfires]

"I'm here to help Tributes," Cinna said. "I only want you to see that it might be a fact that your mentor and Stylist might have a better idea of what will appeal to sponsors...."

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

"Which is someone who just goes with what they're told?"

[setfires]

"Someone who knows how to use the system to their advantage."

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

He lowers his voice. "In the Arena, right? Or do they like seeing people fight back against them too?"

[setfires]

"If you mean that they like to have an excuse to use someone as an example...?"

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

"Yeah, I don't want that either. I just don't want them to send me back where I came from and don't want them to get bored with me."

[setfires]

Cinna paused at that. "You don't want to go back?" he asked, curious at that because it was so different than what he was expecting Tributes to feel.

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

"Of course not." Howard gives Cinna a wary look, as if he's heard that response before and is convinced that people are just trying to make him doubt himself here. It's lonely, being one of the only people happy to be in the Capitol. Just him and Eponine relishing the showers and the snacks. "I have food here. Running water. Medicine."

He taps his front teeth. "They even fixed my smile. No more teeth rotting out of my head."

[setfires]

Cinna nodded, instantly re-thinking his approach with this one. "Then play with that angle. Tell the Capitol how grateful you are. They love being flattered."

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

Howard squints. "Really? They think that's fun?"

He supposes he can see the power trip in watching someone fawn over you just to kill them on TV, but that's a bit too enormous and grotesque for him to picture the entire Capitol engaging in.

[setfires]

Cinna nodded. "If you appear to be thankful for what they've provided, they'll want you to survive to provide more. Who wants to sponsor someone they think is ungrateful?" he suggested.

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

"Love to hate types? I just..." He chews on a thread from the corner of his sleeve. "I don't want to be this pet that they keep around. And it feels like I'm a pet. Pets are disposable."

[setfires]

Cinna moved closer and put a hand on Howard's, trying to gently push his clothes away from his mouth. It was a natural reaction of his as a Stylist.

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

Howard jerks his hand away and jumps back, as if Cinna was a snake striking and not someone offering a gesture of consolation.

"Don't touch me, dude," he hisses.