thecapitol | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

WHO| EVERYONE
WHAT| Effie is throwing a small scale party for just the tributes.
WHERE| The District 12 suite.
WHEN| Christmas
WARNINGS/NOTES| Secret Santa's are under the cut. Feel free to tag in whether you signed up for secret santa or not.

Effie had tried very hard to make this a party that was actually made for the tributes, not made to show them off.

She had tried very, very hard.

The food was what she had been able to investigate as “home” cooking for those she could track down, an odd arrangement of food that sometimes got close to the tributes home food, and sometimes was a terrible disaster. Blood pudding, for example, was a dish best avoided. But then it usually was.

The best hits reel had been her idea. It took a tense conversation with Haymitch and about 45 minutes to convince her that now, that wasn’t really what any Tribute wanted to see when they were trying to relax.

After that the party was much nicer, mellow music, holiday cheer and, for a holiday party, fairly low key. Lorne had karoke going in one room, while another had a large glittering Christmas tree and mellow music playing, with the District 12 windows wide open to show the snow covered city underneath.

Eliot-Neeshka
Kevin-Lottie
Valeria-Tony
Momoko-Draco
Alpha-Anna
Cinna-Momoko
Epoinine-Alpha
Alex-Jade
Jade-Ariadne
Neeshka-Eliot
Anna-Valeria
Lindsey-Glinda
Glinda-Annie
Ariadne-cinna
Elliot-Alex
Lottie- Eponine
Annie-Jade
Tony-Glinda
Shepard-Lindsey
Draco-Kevin

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He nods along pensively, because if that's the reason behind it, it's a good sign-- it means people are working together already, right? Either way, he's careful to try not to indicate that he thinks that's a good thing.

"Uh, Bruce," he says, a little surprised at the sudden change in topic.

"I'm Howard." He's already decided that he doesn't particularly want Bruce as an ally. He's come across as nervous but not particularly bendable, nor particularly soft. At least, not in a way Howard can see exploiting. "How you like the Capitol so far?"

"I'd say nice to meet you, but." And he smiles again, though he's more focused on trying not to attract anyone's interest-- it's his contribution to team politics.

"It's very..." and he tries to think of a neutral enough word. "...Christmas?"

Howard laughs, covering his mouth only because otherwise he might spit out some spanikopita as he does so. "Haven't heard that one before. Some people think it's kind of gross, all the indulgence."

Well, that's attractive.

He crosses his arms defensively, though he smiles lightheartedly. "It was sort of springy when I left, but if Christmas isn't the time for consumerism, when is?"

Howard: not quite the pinnacle of manners.

"Point. Where'd you leave from?"

"Central Park?" he offers, not realizing how desperate he was for someone to at least recognize things from home until he asked it. "In the very definitely not Christmastime."

"Nice." A big smile crosses Howard's face, a kind of wistful expression. "I'm from SoCal. I always wanted to see New York, but..."

He shrugs. Wasn't in the cards. Deathmatches and fighting for survival were.

He can't help but smile back, genuinely this time; in this whole confusion, it's nice to see a little glimpse of home. (Even if he's never been to SoCal; the conversation itself is enough.)

"Oh yeah? Probably a lot nicer weather than New York, at least. It's a fun place, though, I'd... recommend it." Except for the elephant in the room of how they really can't go back and visit, of course, which is what makes him falter at the end.

Howard smiles back too. "Yeah, I want to. I kind of always dreamed of it, someday."

There's a sadness in his tone, too. Even if they could go back to where they came from, he'll be locked in the big bubble. Never to leave Perdido Beach. "I never left Cali before, but I guess this isn't all that different than Malibu on steroids."

He glances at all the extravagant costumes and bizarre people. "If this is what Malibu's like, that actually explains a lot."

Actually, it was all starting to make sense. He'd have to tell Tony, except if everything's true, he wouldn't want Tony to be here either.

"Well. Sort of like Malibu. Less spray tans." Howard raises an eyebrow and looks around. The taste of home has set him a little more at ease than he was, but he hasn't forgotten that Bruce will still be a competitor. "So what did you do, before they brought you here?"

He snorts, catching the laugh before it escapes completely. But they are going to fight, so he shouldn't keep going with that.

It's been a while since he introduced himself with his actual degree instead of letting people assume he means the medicinal kind of doctor, but if this really is a fight to the death, maybe it was better to advertise radiation instead of making himself a target as a medic. Besides, the number of people who would recognize him for who--or what-- he was was suddenly a lot lower. "I was a research scientist. Physics."

Howard raises his eyebrows. "So you must be like, crazy smart. Do you work on rockets and stuff? I wanted to be an astronaut for like, ever when I was a little kid."

He's fifteen now and has no plans for the future, because he doesn't believe he has one.

"Not really," he says with a smile, because he's done too many stupid things to say otherwise.

"Sorry, I work with radioactive particles. Much less glamorous."

"You mean like atom bombs and all?"

Howard's working on a 8th grade education here. All he knows about radioactive stuff is that in videogames, those levels tend to kill you.

He smiles awkwardly, quick to correct him-- the last thing he needs is someone thinking he can build atom bombs in these arenas.

"Not at all, sorry. I focus on the way subatomic particles interact. The application's closer to nuclear medicine than nuclear bombs."

Or, well, it should have been, anyway. He hurries to change the subject.

"I can do a pretty good impression of a high school science teacher if you're interested, but I'm going to guess not. What about you?"

There's a way Howard's eyes kind of glaze over starting at 'subatomic' that shows that Bruce's sentences mean nothing to him.

It's not even that he's bad at science - he could answer Bruce that he's a self-taught moonshine brewer. But he doesn't want to tip his hand to people about being resourceful and learning fast; it's one of the few things he has going for him. "There's nothing about me. I didn't finish middle school. You don't exactly have a career after that, especially not as a...subatomic whatsit researcher."

He frowns, because he's a cynical adult who takes advantage of some assumptions when it comes to middle school dropouts from urban SoCal. As much as he may be estranged from his past life, he's still an academic, and he's got plenty to say about the topic of education... but here, maybe they're not really relevant.

"I'd say a lot of meaningful things about how it's never too late, but I think being brought to fight to the death qualifies as actually being too late."

"Hey, the best thing about this whole deal is that I don't have to go back if I don't want to. That and the food." He could mention that it's hard to finish school when all your teachers have disappeared and the classes have been taken over by talking coyotes, but that might give the impression that he misses the education system - heaven forbid. He and structured learning never got along.

"Besides, all the opportunities this place is blowing in favor of watching us stab each other in screen, I'd say their education system probably isn't much either. They got all this technology and far as I can tell, they don't exploit it at all."

He doesn't look convinced, but he decides to focus on the important information being shared here instead of the education issue. So the technology level is really high-- he'd figured it had to be to get them there, but it was nice to have some validation on that front, instead of just thinking that they had discovered an obvious solution to something he had spent years on.

"What sort of technology?"

"Well, they can make the arenas, for one. And those are huge contained environments where your every action and word is televised, so the satellites have got to be crazy advanced. And there's the way they bring you back from the dead..." He shudders visibly, though he tries to hide it. "Medical, I guess."

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