Stephanus "Stephen" Reagan (
capitolprivilege) wrote in
thecapitol2014-05-22 03:43 pm
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we wine, we dine, and everything is fine [open!]
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?
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?
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And not just for his own sanity.
"Ya alright, Miss?"
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"I have never been so ill as I have been lately."
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"If ya aren't feelin' well, ya should be restin'," he replied lowly, shifting carefully as he worked to prop her back up. "Maybe ya aught'a think about headin' on home."
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"You might have to carry me home," she sighs. "I'm only on the first floor. Not too far."
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It wasn't as simple anymore as just seeing a woman home to be polite.
His eyes seemed to glaze, fixing on some middle-distance as he did the math and tried to work through to a solution.
"Not sure if my stylist would appreciate it any if I went wanderin' an' all their hard work went unseen," he said finally, moving Victory back a bit more forcefully. "But I'm sure we can find a peacekeeper to see ya home safe."
It wasn't his job anymore, he reminded himself. They had their keepers.
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She totally is. And as handsome as some of the Peacekeepers are, they don't have Wyatt's star power.
"I don't trust the Peacekeepers, Mr. Earp. You know where my allegiances lie, with my Tributes. That doesn't endear me to them."
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(Saying it made him want to rinse his mouth with soap.)
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She deploys a calculated lip wibble.
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"Accordin' to the Capitol, I'm a traitor, Miss." He shifted her back a little more forcefully and twisted his hips, sliding closer to the edge of the cushion. Meaning to stand just as soon as he was certain she wasn't going to flop in her face. "If ya can trust me, ya can trust them."
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It wasn't as if he didn't know that, as if he didn't know what the Capitol saw as his weakness and what it meant to them, but it was another to have it flaunted so.
Whatever fence he had have been on where it came to her, that decided it for him.
"Handy, bein' able to dangle a man's family in front of him." His hands dropped away before they could tighten on her. "Makin' sure he ain't got a choice."
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"You almost sound like you resent me for stating a fact. That's so...rude."
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But still he stood and held out an arm to her.
He didn't know how much sway a stylist held, but it wasn't worth the risk. She wanted a goddamned toy, a story to giggle to all her friends, he'd give her one.
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Her eyes are watering when she stops, and she leans on Wyatt, letting him guide her.
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He saw her to her floor, gave her a stiff bow of his head, then got back into the elevator.