we wine, we dine, and everything is fine [open!]

[capitolprivilege]

Who| Everyone still in the Capitol. If the Hunger Games is a significant part of your life, or if you wield any influence at all in the Capitol, you've received an invitation. Unless you're Victory Hannibal.
What| Week 1 viewing party! It's horror-movie/monster themed, so break out your best sexy witch/vampire/mummy costumes! Also, feel free to use it for sponsor schmoozing.
Where| A ballroom, and some adjacent rooms.
When| Just before the Arena begins, and into the night.
Warnings/Notes| Watch this space for warnings. Also, feel free to make closed threads amongst yourselves, but Stephen will likely at some point come up to greet you personally. If you think your Capitol character would be familiar with the Reagan family, make an OOC note, and I'll give you a quick rundown on their sordid past.


There is a fog machine.

The fog hovers around the guests' knees and ankles, doing nothing to impede visibility or movement, but it creates a ~mysterious~ atmosphere. The ballroom is modest, by Capitol standards, able to comfortably hold about a hundred people. There's plenty of space. The room is dimly lit from concealed sources that nonetheless throw the guests' shadows into frightening shapes on the wall. There are tables laden with food along one wall, and plenty of comfortable seating, for projected onto the far wall is a live feed from the Games.

Through the doors are smaller, more intimate rooms, with cushy couches and a smaller screen apiece for watching the Games a little more privately. One pair of double-doors leads out onto a balcony with a beautiful view of the city.

Everyone who received the invitation was informed of the theme, of course: no pressure, but if you want your outfit to match (and he's sure you do), make sure it's a little bit -- spooky.

Stephen himself, tastefully attired in a shimmery black suit, cape, and vampire teeth, is moving about the guests, giving friendly greetings to those he knows, making polite conversation with those he does not, ensuring that everybody (or at least, everybody possible) is having a good time. So what if his smile looks a little fixed, every once in a while? It's a party. What could possibly be wrong?

Comments

open;

[confidentially]

Jessica wasn't exactly feeling so hot. Even though was was all dolled up for the party, she still looked worse for wear, a little grayer than usual, with sporadic coughing fits. She figured it was just a cold and didn't think much of it though, and had taken to self-medicating with cocktail after cocktail. She found a spot near the center of the room to hold court while watching the broadcast, hacking up her lungs every so often, as though it were to emphasize whatever was being shown on the screen. Truth be told, though, she felt completely miserable.

"Is anyone else freezing?"

Re: open;

[hit_girl_mindy]

Jessica. Right. She remembered her from the failed mission to get back Ian. She wasn't super impressed with the bottom costume (frills on a vampire? Come on) but noted that there was more than just the outfit to pay attention to. She put down her drink, walking over and overhearing her question.

"Not yet but...you don't look good, princess. Think you might want to sit this out?"

[confidentially]

She coughed into her elbow, sounding more like a vicious dog than a person. Blinking back tears from the fit, she looked to Mindy. "I can't miss this party, kid. And not just because I like the free drinks."

[capitolprivilege]

"I think it's just you," said Stephen, coming up to lean against the back of the chair opposite hers. "Honestly, I'm not surprised you're a little cold," he added, eyes flicking down to what she was wearing -- and what she wasn't -- and then back up. "Suffering to be beautiful, right?"

[confidentially]

If Jessica didn't want to be ogled, she wouldn't have let the stylists dress her like that. She narrowed her eyes at him, pouting out her lips. At least he was paying attention. "Why don't you be a gentleman and let me borrow your cape, Stephen dear."

[quiteliterally]

A moaning could be heard from a nearby couch, a familiar dog resting his chin on Chris' knee. He didn't notice Jessica like he normally would because he was busy clutching himself around the middle as if his organs might spill out. "I'm dying, Champion. I'm..." Then Chris sneezed. "Dying..."

[confidentially]

She turned her head at the familiar voice, sputtering out a cough instead of a greeting. After several prolonged seconds of hacking and wheezing, she was finally able to speak. "What's wrong with you, Chris Traeger?"

OTA

[revvinguptheharley]

Harley was feeling particularly cool tonight in a pale and gothic ensemble with only splashes of red to break up the moody look.

Despite how her outfit might suggest she was in mourning her smile was firmly in place and to speak with her was to hear not the loud abrasive voice of Harley Quinn, but her more professional "Doctor" voice. Harleen Quinzel.

There was no particular reason for it, and she often let it slip while laughing or getting excited. Harley simply thought a more sultry and smokey voice was better suited to the theme of the party...for now.

This was her first big viewing party as a mentor as well so she was doing her best to talk to anyone that could be a potential aid for her tributes. Look out sponsors, Dr. Quinn is in and looking to operate!

[capitolprivilege]

Stephen approached her with a broad smile, holding out a hand for her to shake.

"Harley Quinn," he greeted. "It's so good to meet you in person at last. You look stunning, by the way."

Ota

[burnedbrighter]

The makeup had been a poor choice.

Azula had initially felt confident in the outfit she worn to the party. It was a sharp contrast to the dark and gloomy theme yet at the same time fit in perfectly. As a pale specter she intended on haunting the party despite not feeling particularly great in the hours before arrival.

Azula was not one to force herself to socialize when she didn't feel well, but this was the opening of a new arena. And after all the wild events and parties that had happened since the last proper arena it was important that Azula be a apart of this return to normalcy. She had to at least give the appearance of strength so that her tributes would receive sponsor gifts when they really needed them.

They were counting on her.
But even with the weight of her responsibilities crushing her selfish desire to stay home...she still felt unwell. Her body was warm and under her make up she was flush. Sweat was beading on her skin which caused the makeup to run. It made for a nice melting effect which could be misconstrued as intentional.
At least that's what she was hoping for.

Some cool crisp water, that's what she needed, and so she set out for the nearest servant with water on hand.

[hanssome]

Hans has greeted Azula already this evening, but he hadn't lingered too much. He's looking to make new alliances as much as he's looking to strengthen others. Considering they live so close, he's not worried about losing the chance to have discussions with her.

That said, even in his effort to cycle around, it's not difficult to see that Azula is faltering through the evening. At first it hadn't been cause for concern, but when he catches a glance at her later in the night he can see she's not doing well. When he approaches, he's sure to snatch a glass of water off a tray as he does, offering it to her with a concerned expression.

"Are you alright, Miss Azula?" He says, head to toe in grey/silver make up like a dark elf from an MMO he'll never play.

[hit_girl_mindy]

If she had to go out and do something so ridiculous when it wasn't halloween, this one really wasn't so bad. For now, she was helping herself to some punch, not feeling too awful about how things were going. The costume helped hide the fight she'd had a few days ago, though the remnants of a black eye barely made its appearance. This actually reminded her of Halloween back home, including the abundance of sluttier clothing.

She took a cocktail but drank sparingly, using the opportunity to talk to some of the patrons, get them interested in her tributes. She even dropped Clementine's name, fairly keen on getting the girl provided for, but of course she favored Riley and Dave and Elsa when she could spare a word. Donatello's name would come up when she could, but most seemed less eager to support the turtle, much to Mindy's chagrin.

For now, she was doing her job to talk people up, though her eyes were starting to note that people were looking ill. Was there something in the drink?

[capitolprivilege]

"Did I hear you mention Clementine," came a voice from behind Mindy. Stephen Reagan was holding a drink of his own, smiling cheerily in vampire fangs. The strategy he and Clem had worked out had been for Clem to act like a lost little girl, sweet and innocent and tragic, until the Arena came.

The cat was already out of the bag for the Capitol, since Clem had dropped a brick on Susannah Dean's head, but, well. With any luck, the other Tributes would still be underestimating Clem.

"You're not doing my work for me, are you? Or are you sabotaging your District's competition?" The words were breezy, carefree, devoid of bite: he's teasing, but curious.

[president_evil]

How quaint.

A party where everyone played at being a monster. All porcelain fangs, and colored contacts. Gallons of fake blood to disguise all the old stains.

His strange, serpentine eyes of full display - a glittering red and gold - Wesker watched them mill about like dark, fluttering moths, wondering to himself who they thought they were fooling.

If they were truly so deluded as to believe it themselves.

[hit_girl_mindy]

She was taking a little break from the mingling with prospective sponsors to take a breather. That was when she noticed the strange gut. She vaguely remembered Harley talking about him, although she had seemed far from complimentary. It made her curious.

"Hey," she said, offering him scissor hands to shake. "Enjoying yourself?"

[the_marshal]

In Wyatt's book, watching the Games was bad enough without having to do it in a ridiculous getup surrounded by giggling strangers, but he hadn't been able to come up with a convincing enough argument to get out of the invite.

Not when, as his escort had sharply pointed out, the party was just downstairs.

Not if he truly wanted to help his tributes.

So, there he was, scratching absently at the dark, curved bull's horns the stylist had glued near his hairline. Wondering what on earth the theme of this shindig was supposed to be.

Halloween, he understood, was still months away.

[pepsi_cola]

Victory was, of course, trying to go for the damsel that one rescues from the vampire, in a Victorian-style dress with a little bitemark applied to her neck. Currently, however, she's a bit too flush to look dead or even dainty. Her cheeks are burning red and she's got a little bit of unsightly sweat at her hairline. She fans herself and sits down at one of the couches.

Maybe it's just the handsome man next to her. She's certainly felt hot and flustered writing about him. She reaches over and rests her hand on his knee.

"Where's Maximus, cowboy?"

[reallynow]

The life of a Stylist has its highs and lows. Jolie had definitely been experiencing some lows in lieu of the family drama and sending the tributes off to murder each other once again. After all, what fun is life without your precious morons to dress and bother? Booze. Booze is life. You can find your own highs with booze.

And funny costumes. Lots of funny costumes. Man some stylists are scraping the bottom of the bag, right? Jolie's face lights up the moment he catches sight of Wyatt and he claps his hands together before pointing accusingly at the other man.

"BULLSHIT!" He follows that with a laugh that would make a hyena jealous. "Get it?"

[hanssome]

Hans has been notably withdrawn since both his victory and the family event. He'd done a bit of character assassination on himself, attacking Rat in such a low way. He knew he could play that off easily, but it had been seeing his brother's that really put him off. He couldn't think of two people he'd rather not see... other than all of his other brother's and his parents. Alas! It's all in the past and they'll suffer for the crimes of being related to him. With the Arena in play, he's noticing the slump in his networking and socialising. He may have won an Arena, but it's important he stays interesting and relevant if he wants to stay on top of things.

His stylist has graced him with a dark elf costume. There's a thin sheen of grey/silver make up over his face and latex ears over his own. He has white contacts and hair extensions so long and fierce he might grow attached to them. He's not sure if he feels ridiculously good looking or just ridiculous, but at least the costumes are common ground when he approaches other guests and aims to make small talk.

[hit_girl_mindy]

She recognized him: he'd been in her radar, though only barely, though the last Arena was fairly chilling, especially since it WAS Rat that he'd taken out of commission. Granted, she had also happened to spar with Han's brother in the play fight Arena, and had told her to keep an eye on Hans. It was actually an interesting contrast: if you'd met Hans, he seemed like the nicest guy, amicable, gentle, all of that. The opposite of what his brother had warned her about. Hell, she'd even seen that he and Elsa got along, despite some ugly shit going down in their first Arena.

Needless to say, she was curious. He had, after all, a friendship with Elsa, and that made him someone to be wary about. If it involved one of her tributes, it became her concern.

"Hey new mentor," she greeted, holding out her scissored hand. "Been meaning to talk with you eventually, more so after the arena."

[capitolprivilege]

"Prince Hans," says Stephen, coming up to greet his distinguished guest with an outstretched hand and a smile. "I almost didn't recognize you. It's so good to meet you at last -- I'm Stephen Reagan, the District 6 Escort, and it's been my pleasure to work with your fiance these past several weeks." His smile is radiant: he'd liked Anna, charmed by her genuine sweetness and her oh so relatable, oh so tragic family dynamic, and he's delighted to finally meet her fiance.

[reallynow]

Tres has been a little reclusive for the past few months. He slams out dresses and suits for his tributes like nobody's business, but he's been faltering on the social side for some time. The mini arena had been an unpleasant call back to the old way of doing things and the family event was faaaar too touchy feely for him to get involved in. What better way than a viewing party to get back into the spirit of watching his tributes fall over themselves until they die and come back to pester him? They're like obnoxious ghosts, which fits perfectly in the theme of the night. Tres is head to toe in leopard print and loving it. He has totally not been looking for an opportunity to wear this dress since he made it, he's totally not giddy about wearing it. To make it a little "spookier", it's coupled with a giant, shaggy mane of hair, cat eye lenses and some fangs and claws for good measure.

The after buzz of way too many cocktails is hitting him in the best way right now, pretty much everything is hilarious in one way or another. And if it's not? He'll make it funny for himself! This is totally not avoidance because he's a little attached to his tributes, this is all genuine party buzz. Totally. Whatever. He's happily weaving between joking around with old friends and laughing at strangers, teetering a little in heels as he makes his way toward another drink.

[hit_girl_mindy]

This guy was...something else, that was for sure. He was definitely laughing a lot, probably because he'd had a few drinks. She'd had at least two by now, and that was enough to at least make her socialize more than she wanted to. After all, what reason did she have to talk to some pruning, hovering stylist who constantly wanted her to look pretty?

None, that's what.

"What's with the get up? Auditioning for the Capitol version of Cats?"

So what if he didn't get the reference? She did.

OTA, and open to as many threads as you like, but I'd rather the second prompt only be used once

[capitolprivilege]

Stephen is making his rounds, cheerfully greeting everyone he knows, cheerfully introducing himself to everyone he doesn't, and generally making sure everyone has someone to talk to. The food is excellent; the drinks are top-notch -- can he offer you anything?

He is so, so delighted to be meeting some of these Mentors for the first time. Really, Stephen's delighted to meet everybody. It's such a good party, in such a good city, celebrating such a good event. Perhaps he's approached you in the main room with a smile on his face and a drink in his hand, especially if you've been trying to keep to yourself.

Or, perhaps, you catch him out on the balcony, where he thinks he's alone. He leans on the exquisite cast-iron railing and sighs heavily. A quick and quiet observer might get a look at his face, before he realizes you're there; the city lights from below make his furrowed brows and tight mouth very clear. There is something Stephen Reagan is worried about.

late but pounces on the second prompt

[reallynow]

By this point, Jolie is well and truly on the train through tipsy town to drunksville. He's had enough fruity cocktails to make his breath smell like pineapple, strawberries and all the artificial fruit you could dream of, but Jolie is no stranger to copious drinking. The click of his heels when he walks onto the balcony is steady as ever, no wobbling or teetering from this guy.

The sight of someone alone on a balcony is too juicy to pass up. It could be a break up or an emotional breakdown and if nobody else is there, Jolie wants to be the one to hear the deets. The closer he gets, the more apparent it is to him that it's Stephen there alone, and that in itself is a strange occurrence.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't count Jockula." He snorts, draping over the balcony alongside the other man so he can look out on the city. "What's the matter? Too good to watch a bunch of assholes fight each other? Cuz I sure as hell remember seeing you at my birthday party."