thecapitol | OPEN Valentine's Day Plot

OPEN Valentine's Day Plot

WHO | Everyone
WHAT | Baron sends Valentine's Day gifts to Tribute Tower.
WHEN | Valentine's Day!
WHERE | Tribute Tower
WARNINGS / NOTES | Warnings for drug use and all of the things that go with that. Possibly also sexual themes. The OOC post for this is here.

On the morning of February 14th when the Tributes come down for breakfast they're greeted by an impressive holiday themed spread. Pink and red baked goods, chocolates shaped like hearts, beautiful red and pink flowers, adorable stuffed animals all line the table.

On the table is also a sign in cursive that reads:

To our beloved Tributes, Victors, Mentors, Escorts and Stylists. Enjoy your holiday. -- Bartlett Industries

Most of the sweets are completely harmless, but if the Tributes taste the chocolate covered cherries or caramels they find themselves suddenly acting very strangely...

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Any excuse for those screens to stay silent was a blessing in Draco's book; it was a welcome change from the obnoxious goings-on he'd been listening to for the past little while.

Her enthusiasm was a bit surprising, to say the least, though infectious. It was rather nice to be appreciated like that in a place like this, where proper appreciation was rare, at least as far as he had noticed so far. He slipped into the room without any hesitation, a smile plastering itself across his face, and strode purposefully over to her, joining her on the seat that had clearly been designed with more than one person in mind. It was a green room, after all, not that Draco knew what that meant.

"Momoko," he finally greeted, beaming right back at her before holding out his box of chocolates. "Chocolate? They're brilliant."

"I've got some," she said, holding up her own plate as evidence, although that doesn't stop her from stealing a couple from Draco anyway. "They are good, aren't they? Everything here is so good!" She sighed, relaxing even more deeply into the cushions. "And I never have to leave."

Her desire to go home was far too sad to be allowed even thinking about just now.

He did offer, and as such, makes no face when she plucks a few from him. Doesn't matter. If he runs out, he'll nick one back from her.

Draco stretched out briefly, cracking his back before settling back against the plush cushions as well, staring up at the ceiling contently for a moment before popping another cherry into his mouth. "You're right," he agreed mildly, before the obvious seemed to occur to him again, and he turned wide eyes on her, pleased. "You won. Now they'll have some sort of ceremony for you and everything."

"Yes!" she said, excited, then frowned, more confused than upset. "Oh, but I don't like those." Then she brightened again. "But I won't have to dance or talk to anyone if I don't want to, and I get to wear a crown! Do you think they'll let me wear a tiara instead?"

"You don't like ceremonies? But it's practically a day dedicated entirely to you." His emphasis and cheerful drawl suggested he thought the idea was the best he'd ever heard, his grin growing bemused before he decided that line of thought was too much work. And then he realised his face hurt from smiling. But never mind that.

"I'm sure they'd let you wear whatever you wanted to wear. You're a Victor now. That holds some clout with these people."

"I don't like all that attention," she said, waving a hand airily. She giggled again. "Or parties or any of that, but that's alright this time, because I won! It'll be worth it. It might even be fun."

She blinked, though her smile didn't waver, as a thought occurred to her. "Oh, but you didn't." She scooted closer, patting his leg consolingly, though she still looked too cheerful to be properly sympathetic. "You won't get to wear a crown or a tiara."

His eyes widened a little bit more, staring at her with some disbelief that someone wouldn't like attention. Though Momoko did strike him as the type to not like it, if ever there was anyone. "Surely a little attention will be fine, though," Draco pointed out. "It'll be fine. Definitely fun.

"I'd look horrid in a tiara," he told her, letting her pat his leg without complaint. Under most circumstances, he wasn't that fond of being touched, but he liked her company well enough. She hadn't tried to kill him; patting his leg was acceptable. More than acceptable, in fact. He leaned in a little, happier with the close proximity without it really even registering in his mind. "And I'd need some sort of velvet-lined cloak to go with any kind of crown. To look like a right and proper king."

"It'll be a lot of attention though," Momoko pointed out, her own eyes wide. "Everyone will be watching! Everyone."

She looked him over thoughtfully. "You're too young to be a king. A prince maybe. It would need to be a princely cloak, long and trailing." She raised both of her hands to either side of the top of his head, as though measuring for a crown. "Red, maybe, with a gold trim to match the crown."

"Everyone watched you win." Which he imagined was about par to the fact that everyone would be watching this, too. Everyone watched everything in the Capitol. It was just how things worked.

He frowned a little, thinking that over, blinking to himself a little before glancing up to her hands curiously. "That'd be nice. I could parade about everywhere. Regardless of what everyone else thinks. Let them talk. Let them write rot in that terrible magazine!" He flapped one hand dismissively.

"I know," she said, wrinkling her nose in a faint attempt at her usual horror at the concept. It was no use, nothing could really bother her now. Because of the winning, of course. "I don't think it was very interesting. Mostly I was just hiding."

She started absently playing with his hair, at this point, since her hands were right there and all. She'd tried a couple of times to do something with Ichigo's hair but she'd never touched a boy's hair before. It wasn't really that different, although it was too short too really do anything with.

"Oh, but I like the magazine!" she exclaimed, and it was true, though she hadn't bothered to read the latest issue yet. "They called me elegant and believe all my lies! I bet they'd love to talk about you and your crown and cloak," she added generously. "Princes are very popular."

He sniggered a little, perhaps a little unnecessarily, but it felt like the thing to do. A little laughter did everyone a little good. He registered vaguely that she was petting his hair, and he rather liked it; it reminded him of home. Leaning into it a little, he shrugged one shoulder. "There's nothing wrong with hiding. It seems to have worked well enough, after all."

Sniffing to himself, and returning his eyes up to the ceiling, he made a little face, poking again at his box of chocolates. "They say my District drinks more than everyone else combined. And they started gossiping about my application to that release thing. The one where you get to live in the Capitol. I think I'd be perfect out here; I'm rubbish in the Arenas," he declared.

"That's true," agreed Momoko, grinning again at this reminder of her recent victory. She drew a ribbon out of her hair, leaving her lopsided with only one pigtail, and held it up to his speculatively, wrapped around his head like a circlet. She giggled again at the sight, although it wasn't really that amusing.

"You can apply to be a Citizen?" she asked. She'd never heard that was possible, but then, she'd spent much of her time sulking in her rooms or hiding from her Escorts, so that's not too surprising. "And I don't think you're rubbish! You're not good, no," because no amount of drugged candy could give Momoko tact, "But hardly anybody is. Everyone's either rubbish at fighting or rubbish at surviving, or rubbish at actually killing people. Everyone's rubbish! Even me, but it doesn't matter anymore."

He twisted towards her a bit more, ducking his head to let her do what she would; he was quite enjoying the attention anyway, even if it involved ribbons and her hair being let out of its rather proper pigtails. And besides that, he was finding her company quite pleasant after some of the others he'd come across during his time there.

"You can. It's an obnoxious little form, and then you submit it, and then they apparently publish your attempt in print for all to see." He looked a little bit disappointed at that, his shoulders slumped a bit before he leaned over, just resting his head against her shoulder with a sigh. "I don't know, have you seen some of the people in there? That turtle one, he's terrifying sometimes; he's not rubbish. But most of us are rubbish at something, it's true. You'd think we'd have gotten better at it."

Momoko was rather having fun now. Ichigo and her grandmother never withstood this much touching of their hair before, and she certainly didn't have any other friends back home who would do this. She tried pushing his hair back, using the ribbon as a sort of makeshift headband. She thought the pink contrasted nicely with his hair.

"That's just awful, you'd make a great Capitol Citizen," she declared, switching her stance on the subject easily. "They're always trying to do their best to embarrass us, I think they find even more entertaining then the killing."

Normally she would have tensed at so much touching, pushed him off the couch most likely. Now she just left the ribbon in it's precarious position and leaned her own cheek onto the top of his head. "I like Donatello," she said dreamily. "He only scared me that one time he was a monster. He'd help you train, if you wanted, he helped me. Then you'd not be rubbish."

The pink probably did contrast nicely with his hair. And it was for that reason, and the fact that it had been too long since anyone really played with his hair, that he let her do whatever she wanted to, leaving going so far as to leave the ribbon where it was. It wasn't doing any harm anyway.

"I agree. On both counts. It's horrid. I don't know how they manage to go through with most of it. Probably because they're off hidden behind their big, fancy magazines and screen things." Though it wasn't much better than how he'd spent most of his life so far. It was different when it was turned on him, though. Much less fun.

It was probably a good thing she hadn't shoved him off the couch; Draco was quite comfortable and had little intention of moving. Though maybe that was just more reason to do so. He was grateful she hadn't. "That's certainly a thought, isn't it? We don't have much by way of Mentors for my District. You don't think he'd become a monster again, though?"

Momoko thought she'd get back to playing with his hair later. It was extremely fun, but she was also just so comfortable in this position. In fact, if she slipped her shoes off like so and tucked them under her skirt so she was leaning on Draco in much the same way he was leaning on her...yes, very comfortable. She didn't know why people didn't just sit like this all the time.

"It's much easier to do terrible things to people when they're not around to see you do them," Momoko agreed thoughtfully. "They're not around to hit until you stop doing them, for one." Should she blame Ichigo or the Games for her new, more violent outlook on the world?

"I don't know, I could ask him?" She giggled at the thought. "Don, do you make a habit of turning into a monster or was that only the one time? I wonder what he'd say."

Largely because all this it took a certain level of comfort with the other person, and tended to lead to more. Or at least the suggestion of more. But Draco was so content with their proximity alone, there wasn't much chance of him messing with a good thing; he knew better than that.

"Yes, exactly. You get it," he squirmed a bit, clearly content in that new knowledge before twisting to grin up at her. Or in her general direction, at least. "You ought to. But make sure I'm there, because I'd kill to see his reaction."

"I understand everything," Momoko said, like she was revealing a great secret. "Everybody likes to think that people are nice and good and selfless but that's just sentimental nonsense." She wriggled a bit until she had her arm wrapped around his, so it wasn't being crushed between them.

"Or you can watch the tape, there will be at least five cameras around to record it," she said with another giggle. For once, the knowledge that she was being recorded and watched every moment of the day was more hilarious than upsetting.

He looked almost impressed at that, wriggling against her into a more comfortable, more snuggly position, letting her free up her arm. The downside of being as tall as he was: it was virtually impossible to find anyone willing to cuddle with him properly, if even under the influence of drugged chocolate. He wasn't picky.

"You'll make a good Victor, I think," he murmured, sniggering. "Knowledgeable, at least. Very knowledgeable. You know everything." A wide gesture accompanied that, both his hands moving outward in an all-encompassing motion.

"I do," said Momoko dreamily. "I do know everything. I'll teach you too. We'll make you a Victor also, won't even need Don or anything."

"We won't need anyone. And then we can just sprawl around this place, sipping tea and eating the chocolates they bring us for being so fantastic," Draco told her cheerfully, the dreamy quality of her voice slipping into his.

"Yes, let's do that," Momoko nodded. "We'll be the best Victors they've ever had, they won't even want us to do anything except sit and be amazing."

"And we'll be brilliant at that, too," he grinned. "It's like the position was just made for us. You'll have to make do without me for an Arena, though."

"Hm, no," she said, flapping a hand imperiously. "I can't have that. We'll just have to make sure your bid to become a Citizen is accepted. It can't be that hard, though you may have to start wearing wigs for a short time. Platform shoes, that sort of thing."

"Ugh." He shivered, giving her a pained look. "Do I have to? A wig, really? Is that part of getting my bid accepted, or is it just what happens after the fact?"

OPEN Valentine's Day Plot

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