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

[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.

one tag in and i'm breaking him. just breaking him. also, CINNA

[warbles]

Blaine looked up, brought out of his thoughts by - well, not someone who was well dressed as much as, less than dressed. When it came to the Capitol he expected a whole lot more. But, this guy, this guy was understated. He caught the glint of gold eyeliner. It was Kurt's influence that made him take note of fashion first.

"You don't have to do that," he replied, genuinely meaning it. Blaine wasn't a person who expected special treatment. Sure, at Dalton he got it - as did all the Warblers, but he was never wont for nothing. He thanked whoever gave him anything. He sent thank you notes to the bursar's office. He thanked parents, students. He thanked his Warblers. He missed them. He missed texting his friends. He missed good music on vinyl and he missed - God, he missed everything. It was hard enough to function daily - never mind this being the first day he'd gelled since he'd gotten here.

It helped that the Capitol was a cosmetic place. Make-up, hair products, fashion - it was easily found.

"I'm sorry, I don't... know what to say. Do you want to sit down?" He had lost his manners and his bearings. If this guy was going to pay for his soda, then he could sit with Blaine. To be honest, he wanted to curl up and cry. To hide. But, Blaine Anderson didn't hide. He wallowed. Outwardly. But, he didn't hide.

"And thanks," he added.

Blaaaaine. /wants to scoop him up.

[setfires]

Cinna sat down with Blaine, giving him enough space as to not give the boy the wrong impression.

"No need to apologize. You have a lot to deal with already, you don't need to be in debt over a soda." He gestured to the bar keeper to show that the boy's soda should be put on his tab and them looked back at Blaine.

"I'm Cinna."

/he is plenty scoopable

[warbles]

He watched as Cinna sat down. Normally, he wouldn't be questioning why someone would sit with him. He had a magnetic personality and a smile that could light up a room - maybe that was why he got a 6 as a score - but, he wasn't showing that right now.

"Blaine," he said, not able to even give Cinna a smile. "You know, you hear about bad things happening to good people. Choking on stage, kidnapping, carjacking, a relative's death..." But, none of that compared - maybe the kidnapping. Wasn't that what this was. "My biggest problem before coming here was my ex-boyfriend wouldn't talk to me."

That he laughed at. His laugh was low and humorless. More ironic then anything. He took a long sip of his soda.

"How do I..." live without you, I want to know. Weirdly enough, his brain kept connecting thoughts to songs or events - things that happened on Earth, in his life. Not here. "How do I do this?"

Mm. Yes he is.

[setfires]

"You fight, as hard as you can," Cinna said simply. He didn't really elaborate on that though. There were many kinds of fighting that needed to be done, both in and out of the arena. "How much of what is going on has been explained to you?"

He knew the new recruits were given some summary of what to expect, but that didn't help prepare them.

As is Cinna, mmm.

[warbles]

It was a cliche for a reason but Blaine was a lover, not a fighter - and back in his old high school, a runner. He had run away. He wanted nothing more then to run but this was beyond homophobic bullying.

"The basics. Why I'm here, what's going to happen. Fight to the death," he responded, his voice hollow. "On camera." Like a sick, twisted reality show. It didn't matter how they explained it, it wasn't going to change that it was happening. That this was real.

"That it won't be the last time." Once would be enough - if it had to be any number of times - but more then once? At all?

[setfires]

Cinna folded his hands on the table. "Yes, the thought that they'll bring you back doesn't really make facing your death any easier does it?" he said softly. He really couldn't imagine the horrors this boy was going to face.

[warbles]

"The thought that they brought me at all doesn't make facing my death any easier. I'm still stuck on facing my death." He didn't mean to grind his teeth together and snap back at Cinna, albeit quietly. But, Cinna was being awfully nice to him - as if he knew what was in store but he knew there was no choice in the matter. "People just sit back and watch all this happen? It wasn't enough that they volunteered people who are actually from here, but they had to..." Pull others, he wanted to ask.

"I was just fine worrying about our club's trophy and a new friendship and an old boyfriend and not thinking about clever strategies that might keep me alive past day one. I don't go camping. I played sports but I never did karate. I box when I need to let off some steam and I go to school. I'm eighteen!" He looked around him after raising his voice and exhaled.

"Why is this happening to me?" To any of them? But, in a rare selfish moment, Blaine only had himself in mind. He knew nobody deserved this, maybe the least of all him. He was doing what he'd tried not to do all week.

Breaking apart.

"I'm thanking you for paying for my soda when in the near future there won't be any soda to pay for because I'll be running for my life or hiding or dying."

[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?"

[warbles]

Cinna has been and gone. Blaine has been spending the past however many minutes contemplating sponsors and likability. He seemed to have thought Blaine would have no problem with this. In a way, it's slightly comforting, that a complete stranger has some kind of faith in him and breaks out of district loyalty to give advice.

Blaine hasn't noticed how busy it's gotten. He's too in his head. But, when yet another stranger, this time one that seems closer to his age, comes up, he doesn't deny him the right to sit down. He has two empty seats. How can he deny someone one?

He gestures for Howard to have a seat but midway through deciding to gesture, Howard does indeed sit down. He'd say free country but he's not sure that's a true statement anymore - or, if this even counts as a country.

"What's that?" he asks, curiously, watching Howard inspect the contents of his drink. It occurs to him he probably should have been more careful with his soda selection but something told him coke wasn't exactly a commodity here. Either way, it had tasted fine, a little sweeter then he'd expected.

"Probably the same as yours," he replies. "But, because the Capitol has eyes and ears, I'm yet another lucky guy to be ripped from their life in order to fulfill the city's desire to watch a live trainwreck." He smiles. "So to speak." Cinna's taught him well, because he sounds completely positive about it. Spoiler alert, Howard: he isn't.

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

"I don't know. I asked for a Red Bull and it's this instead." After eying it suspiciously a few seconds longer, Howard takes a drink. It's sugary-sweet and has that noxious cough-syrup aftertaste that most energy drinks do, so he assumes it's okay and starts to drink the whole thing down. Once he starts on part of a meal, he finds it hard to stop. He kills the whole can in a single glug, then turns it over in his hand as if upset it's empty now.

He looks back up at Blaine. Someone's already figured out that they're being constantly watched. It took about a week for the message to sink in for Howard, although he doubts he's said anything that would really turn people off. Granted, not much that would attract sponsors, but he's kept his abilities close to his chest and for the most part enthused about how much he loves the Capitol's decadence, despite verbalizing some reservations about the way they're all treated. But that's normal. That makes it sound like he isn't hiding anything.

"Same thing, then. You're another Tribute. I haven't seen you on any of the recent footage." He wonders if that means Blaine's new or if he just died really early and uneventfully the last round. Howard hasn't really sat down and watched the entirety of the footage yet, but he's caught plenty of images from the displays and screens that seem to litter the Capitol. "At least we get to spend our days out of the Arena here."

[warbles]

Blaine watches him. It reminds him of dining hall shenanigans at Dalton. Guys daring guys to eat crazy concoctions. One night they'd had a milk chugging contest. Good - albeit, disgusting - times.

"I just got here a few days ago," he explains. "I wasn't lucky enough to get any footage." He wants to add a yet, but he holds that back. He knows it'll come either way. No reason to mess with the 'yet' karma.

"Yeah. At least," he replies, trying to sound even a little bit upbeat. "So, you - you went through this all? You've been to an arena?" He breathes out, leaning in. "What's it like?"

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

Howard shrugs. "How fun do you think dying in public is?" He kicks his foot up and rests it on his knee, trying to look more casual than he feels. He'd rather not recollect on what it felt like to die. "But I got an untraditional welcome. Everyone else got a chance to race for the supplies and I got dropped in a few days in, so I never really stood a chance. You'll at least get to start with the rest of us."

He fiddles with the tab on his empty can, then snaps it off and chews on it. "I guess it won't be so bad for me second round, now that I know death isn't permanent."

Not that it can't be. People have told him as much. He just needs to figure out a way to get enough attention to ensure that the public doesn't tire of him, and that's where he's woefully unprepared.

[warbles]

"Zero," he says, obviously, with a smile. He's getting a little tired of the 'they can see you schtick' but has no proof they can't. "You got dropped in mid-way? No information, just - here you go, fight for your life?" he asks, somewhat horrified. That's not just unlucky. It's horrible.

"Because, that makes it better." Excuse him if he doesn't want to die any time. "I don't care if I wake up a few days later..." he starts, not knowing the real time. "I don't want to die." He pleads as if Howard is his judge, jury, and executioner. His facade breaks, momentarily before he composes himself. "You have an advantage, though, don't you?"

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

"Pretty much. I got long enough to try and impress the Gamemakers and get a score, but after that it was adios, Howard, have a nice trip in radiation-riddled Battle Royale hell." He holds up his fingers. "I got a five, by the way."

If it looks like he's volunteering information to get Blaine to do the same, it's a bit deceptive: a five doesn't actually tell anyone that much, except that maybe there's a tiny bit more to Howard than his short, gaunt physique and young age would suggest. He's hoping to get more from Blaine than he gives.

"If I have an advantage you know about, let me know? I got nothing." He laughs and clicks the pop tab in his teeth, then gets serious again. "I don't want to die either, so I'm not the right person to beg to."

[warbles]

"Radiation levels?" He skirts over his new friend's score. He wonders if advertising his own score is a good idea. He knows it's a competition and the scores are broadcast when they're broadcast. Or, are they broadcast? It's safer not to share. But, he doesn't act like this is deliberate.

"You did it once," he says simply. He would apologize for begging. He's been in and out of bouts of that for a few days now. Sometimes, it creeps up on him. "Yeah, you died --" It sounds like... "But, you did it once."

[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?"

[warbles]

Blaine had been having a rough go of it. That was the understatement of the century. He still couldn't tell if Cinna was friend or foe and he was sure that Howard was foe - or would be in the arena. There was so much to keep track of. He still had to visit the restaurant that was Games themed, find a way to get people to both notice and remember him which meant putting on a smile.

He hadn't ordered anything else and truth be told he was losing track of time.

At some point, a familiar face entered the Speakeasy and Blaine hardly noticed. He was looking in the other direction, wondering how everyone back in Lima was, his family, even Kurt.

Wait. He knew that voice. Granted, the last time he'd heard that voice they were on good terms it was hard not to put his guard up when Sebastian was involved. He had to look, hoping he wasn't hallucinating (and why he'd hallucinate Sebastian was beyond him) but his former - sort of friend again Sebastian was standing there.

"Sebastian?" he asked quietly.

In that moment, it didn't matter that is was Sebastian. He was up and out of his chair, wrapping his arms around his neck. It would be a few minutes before he let go.

[warbleronsmythe]

The last encounter he'd had with Blaine was at the Lima Bean, and sure, they'd talked since that encounter, but he hadn't actually seen the boy. This was like a dream come true, even if they were in a whole different level of hell.

The taller Warbler was about to say something before he felt the arms around him, and instinctively, his wrapped around Blaine, pulling him closer. It was rare that Sebastian actually hugged people, but this was Blaine. The boy who was sex on a stick and sang like a dream.

"I'm glad to see you too, Blaine."

[warbles]

Blaine pulled back finally.

"I'm sorry," he said, stepping back. He never selfishly wished any of the people he knew were here - just that he hadn't been and here Sebastian was, being fed to the wolves.

"How long have you been here?" Glancing around them, he pulled Sebastian down and into a chair before sitting in his own again. He leaned in. "They listen in. We can't be heard -- blasting the Capitol." He squeezed Sebastian's hand so he could understand before sitting back.

"Boy, it's been - well for me, less than 24 hours."

[warbleronsmythe]

Sebastian frowned a bit when the smell of raspberry hair gel was no longer right under his nose, but it turned back into a smile, looking at Blaine.

"No worries. It was... definitely welcomed."

Sitting down across from him, but not letting go of Blaine's hand, "Yeah. I know."

Thinking for a bit, "..Maybe 24 hours? 36 at most."

[warbles]

Blaine let go of Sebastian's hand, having only grabbed it to get his attention.

"Have I been gone?" he asked, wondering what happened to the world he left behind. "We talked - I've been here a few days but before here, we texted. Briefly. You told me Hunter was pissed we stole our Nationals trophy back," he explained. "I'm missing."

[warbleronsmythe]

Raising his eyebrow, "What the hell are you talking about?" That was not the last thing he remembered. "Who's Hunter?" Last thing he remembered was the Lima Bean and Kurt. He had no idea who this Hunter guy was, but if he was hot, he was definitely interested in finding out.

[warbles]

"... The new captain of the Warblers." He leaned back. "Is this a joke?" he asked, furrowing his brow. "What's the last thing you remember?"