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

Javert thinks the cherry has something of an odd aftertaste, but, he supposes, it stands to reason that even basic fruits such as cherries would be different.

"Where are you off to, then?"

"Nowhere in particular," he replied mildly. "It's nice to be able to just wander about without having to worry about someone attempting to stab me in the back." Versus the Arenas, where one had to watch their back at all times. "So I thought I might do that."

"Would you mind if I accompanied you? You seem a well-bred sort and I'm somewhat..." He shrugs a shoulder. It's a strange gesture, as if he's not particularly used to shrugging and is just getting loosened up. Come to think of it, he does feel somewhat looser than usual in general at this precise moment, but that may be that he's talking to someone who has neither killed him nor is clearly a prostitute. "Hopeless in navigating this city so far."

"Not in the slightest," Draco replied proudly, preening at the comment at he seemed well-bred. It took certain talent to retain one's well-bred qualities in a place like this, where everything was making an attempt to unravel that. His grin grew a little bit.

"I'd be more than happy to show you around a little, Sir. It's always a little bit better when one isn't quite alone, anyway. More interesting, though I do suppose you're a bit more susceptible to the Capitol's screaming fans when they recognise you as a Tribute."

"I've been fortunate enough not to encounter any screaming fans so far. A street woman did throw herself at me in my quarters, though, before she began fellating a chair." Eponine and spiked chocolates don't mix.

"Where do you typically go here in the city?" Javert finds himself smiling a little, oddly. He's not sure why. It's not exactly a pretty expression on his face, more tight-lipped, and like someone's stamped his features with the wrong muscles, or something like that.

"A street woman got into your quarters?" He asked, the question more than a little horrified, going well with the way his eyes widened slightly. The reaction was a little melodramatic, but well within Draco's typical reactions.

It did fade though, as he began to think over where he typically wandered off to. "Well, I usually hang around here quite a bit. But when I go out into the city, there's a handful of really decent restaurants out there. What kinds of things do you like?" If he liked things at all; judging by that taut smile, it didn't seem as though Javert enjoyed much of anything.

"Well, I believe she's supposed to live there, another Tribute, but she's clearly gutter trash. Dirty, starved, loud, foul-mouthed, wanton. I hope they don't expect us to form alliances by District."

He starts to follow Draco. "Well, generally I dedicate myself to my work, but it appears that we'll be working at the Games' schedule. So I suppose I should...get used to the Capitol's methods of relaxation."

Relaxation sounds really nice, right? He's earned that, what with the dying. Yes. A brilliant idea.

"You don't mean that...Eponine bitch, do you?" He sniffed, pulling a face. If there was anything distasteful about the Capitol, it was that it had brought her in. Thankfully, he was easily enough distracted by the way he could lead Javert around and show him everything that was interesting.

And really, didn't everyone deserve a little relaxation every now and then?

"The parties, then. There are plenty of them, but it's usually best to find one that you actually enjoy. Rather than some - I once had to attend some sort of...they called it a rave, I suppose. It was horrid. I had to wear the tightest bloody outfit." He paused, tipping his head to one side. "And there's a nice performing arts section."

"I thought the little slut called herself that. So she has a reputation here?" Lovely. Given the sort of gossip going around the Capitol, soon people will take that he's rooming with a common prostitute as a sign that he condones the behavior. Javert would scowl if he weren't in such a strangely pleasant mood.

"I've never been much of a mind for theater, and a rave sounds...unpleasant, but these chocolates, if we could find some more of these somewhere..." Javert helps himself to another. "Possibly find some fine spirits to wash them down with."

He scoffed, shaking his head as he offered Javert a look of sympathy before fluttering a dismissive hand. "To say the least. I don't think anyone's terribly fond of her. It's almost tragic. Or it would be, if she were worth the trouble. I think that it's just because the Capitol likes people they can relate to a little bit more. Like us." And with that, a proper grin with just a hint of smugness.

"The rave was bloody horrid, I'll tell you that much. But! As a matter of fact, I know exactly where to find more chocolates and fine spirits. Or decent ones, at least. We'll just have to nick them from Stark. He won't mind, I'm sure."

Javert makes a noncommital sound, as if he agrees that he would like to be likable or relatable, although the truth is he doesn't much care. He's certain of his own worth, or at least he used to be, and the public opinion of him never much mattered.

"You don't mean stealing?" Because Javert doesn't approve of that, and his disapproval slices through his good mood from the chocolates like a knife.

Javert was clearly doing better than the blond was; Draco practically relied upon a good public opinion of him. His self-esteem almost completely hinged on it, in fact.

"No, stealing implies it's his," Draco replied, justifying it flawlessly. "This is borrowing. It's for the whole District, and he's part of the same District I am."

"Ah. That's alright then." And Javert's quite pleased that Draco doesn't mind sharing. "I would have thought it unusual if I'd misjudged you."

"You don't often misjudge people, I take it. Don't worry, you've done nothing of the sort here," he stated cheerfully. He doesn't mind sharing at all, not right now.

"No, I don't. And I'd like to even less." He follows Draco up the elevator. While the concept of an elevator makes sense to him, it's still so strangely foreign that it would normally unnerve him, but right now he feels very calm. Very happy. He hums to himself somewhat atonally.

"Don't blame you there."

Draco wasn't exactly used to elevators either, and while he was normally more concerned with eyeing the thing warily, today saw him prodding at some of the other buttons most curiously. It meant they would accidentally stop at a couple more floors than they wanted to, Draco offering his companion a mildly sheepish (and slightly smug) smile each time, but eventually, they'd find themselves on District 12's floor.

"Here we go," he announced cheerfully, stepping out and purposefully bee-lining over to where their stash of alcohol usually was. "Something decent, something decent..." he murmured as he searched.

Javert doesn't seem to mind stopping at nearly every single floor, and in fact by the tenth floor, it's actually making him laugh. And Javert barely ever laughs.

He flops onto the couch, uncharacteristically jelly-like. "And to think, when at first I arrived, I assumed us all prisoners and felons. We're being pampered like royalty here."

That was what we called progress in Draco's world. Laughter was an excellent state.

He gave a whoop of glee when he finally found a satisfactory bottle, circling the common room to snag two glasses - there were some courtesies to be observed here, after all - and joined Javert on the couch before pouring them both a drink. "We are. You're right. It's sort of nice, actually."

"Better than royalty." Javert sprawls and takes up a good half of the couch, dangling an arm over the the back. "I'd say it's unfitting, but I'll be damned if it isn't wonderful."

He points to the television. "Do you know how to turn on the magic box?"

"It's perfectly fitting. We deserve it after everything they put us through," he stated gleefully, settling in to take a swig of his newly acquired spirits before scoffing goodnaturedly, grinning. "Nothing magic about the thing; I'm magic, and we don't even have electricity. Not really. It's a television, mate."

But with that, he pushed himself up, snagging the remote that had been left out before and after a moment of deliberation, pressed the correct button to turn it on. Tony had made sure he knew how to do that much, at least.

"Magic doesn't exist," Javert says, then makes an incredibly awkward sound that's...actually a giggle. "It's just technology we don't understand. That's what my Escort has been telling me."

His eyes cross a bit as he tries to focus on the TV. Clearly, this is the best time to mix spiked chocolates with alcohol. Nothing could go wrong.

"Your Escort's silly. Magic does exist," Draco said, grinning at that giggle. It seemed so out of place, and he didn't care. All it did was make him giggle himself. At least with the blond, it wasn't quite so out of place.

He had no idea what was on the television, but it seemed interesting. Though everything seemed entertaining when he was giddy, riding a high that didn't seem like it was about to end any time soon.

"I've heard there are different channels for this thing, but I don't know how many. It could be endless."

"Don't be ridiculous. I thought I saw an angel back in the Arena, but it was probably only a hallucination from all the stress. Quite upsetting, to find myself susceptible to that." Javert shakes his head and strokes his sideburns.

"I don't even understand what it is, really. It's like looking at a box of dreams..." he says before trailing off into another giggle.

Draco laughed again, fluttering one hand. "You probably did. You can see anything around here. It's buggered."

Briefly, he watched Javert stroke those sideburns, vaguely curious. "A box of dreams? That's new. I like it. What kind of dreams?"

Javert never realized his sideburns were so soft. He keeps stroking them as if petting a cat on his own face. "Awful dreams. It's all...chaos and flashing lights and none of it's like my country at all. Or yours, I imagine."

OPEN Valentine's Day Plot

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