Eva Salazar (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
vissernone) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2014-06-26 08:03 pm
vissernone) wrote in thecapitol2014-06-26 08:03 pm
Entry tags:
And All My Wastelands Flower [Open]
WHO| Eva and Open
WHAT| Diabolical schemes are set in motion and Eva commemorates an anniversary.
WHERE| A bar in the city.
WHEN| Week 5 of the Arena
WARNINGS| Mentions of death, potential mentions of sexual assault and alcoholism.
In a break from her usual routine, Eva doesn't order alcohol when she goes out tonight. She sits at the bar in a black dress with gold embroidery of ribs across her torso, nursing water, reminding herself of a time in her childhood when she and her family were so hungry that it was all they had to fill their stomachs for the night.
She'll need to be sober tonight, she'll need to be alert and vigilant. There are so many ways that she could create a snare for herself, find herself trapped with over thirty years of research and secrecy put to tragic waste. It's a risk she takes whenever she goes about dragging people into her web, and yet she sees herself not as the predator she is but as prey, scurrying from burrow to burrow under the watch of cameras and microphones.
"Put a dash of vodka in it," she says, not caring for flavor nor appearances. She convinces herself it's because she wants a trace of it on her breath tonight. She hums along with whatever moody song the bartender has playing and keeps her eyes out for her targets.
WHAT| Diabolical schemes are set in motion and Eva commemorates an anniversary.
WHERE| A bar in the city.
WHEN| Week 5 of the Arena
WARNINGS| Mentions of death, potential mentions of sexual assault and alcoholism.
In a break from her usual routine, Eva doesn't order alcohol when she goes out tonight. She sits at the bar in a black dress with gold embroidery of ribs across her torso, nursing water, reminding herself of a time in her childhood when she and her family were so hungry that it was all they had to fill their stomachs for the night.
She'll need to be sober tonight, she'll need to be alert and vigilant. There are so many ways that she could create a snare for herself, find herself trapped with over thirty years of research and secrecy put to tragic waste. It's a risk she takes whenever she goes about dragging people into her web, and yet she sees herself not as the predator she is but as prey, scurrying from burrow to burrow under the watch of cameras and microphones.
"Put a dash of vodka in it," she says, not caring for flavor nor appearances. She convinces herself it's because she wants a trace of it on her breath tonight. She hums along with whatever moody song the bartender has playing and keeps her eyes out for her targets.