OPEN Valentine's Day Plot

[thebiddingbaron]

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...

Comments

it's all good \o

[buildingreality]

"Ariadne." She'd say it was nice to meet him, but the truth be told, he was sort of disconcerting; she eyed him warily, not daring to take her eyes off of him lest he lash out against someone in some way. "If you're a new one, then I'm not that surprised we haven't met. Not unless you're in my District, which I think I'd have figured out by now."

Re: it's all good \o

[downbeat]

"Twelve," he said. It was strange, how an arbitrarily assigned number became like an address for him. "District Twelve. And I am new, yes. I just finished my first arena."

'Finished' like it was a race, an exam, a work of fiction. Even he cringed at the word choice. It did nothing to explain the lingering coldness that rested under his skin, the copper taste of blood that never really left his mouth.

Of course she was a tribute. Of course. This was no place for an architecture student, just like how this was no place for a writer.

"I don't -- I don't necessarily remember seeing you out there. "

[buildingreality]

She nodded again, watching him with some trepidation lingering just beneath the surface; she watched him like he was something to be studied, in a sense. Something to be picked apart and put back together again once she understood it. Not to say that she'd try it, but it was an interesting enough likening to her thought process.

"That's because I wasn't," Ariadne told him, hands folding in her lap in a slow, steady gesture.

'Necessarily', he'd said. An interesting choice of words. It almost made her smile.

"I'm a Victor. I already won."

[downbeat]

"You're out."

It was enough to make him stand up straight. His fear edged away, retreating like the waves of an ocean. Now awe thrummed in his veins. Envy. Hope. He began to mirror Ariadne's more probing looks, began to study and examine, because here was a woman who proved that surviving was possible, and what did she have that he didn't? Luck? Something else?

"How--"

It was a rude question, and he caught it on his tongue. He shook his head.

"Which arena?"

[buildingreality]

It was always interesting to see the sort of reactions she got when she mentioned that. Most people just went for awe, but then again, most people were Capitol citizens through and through; they loved their Victors almost as much as the spectacle their victory had begot.

"The third. And to answer your other question, I had good allies who kept me alive until the end," she explained, not much minding the 'how'. She knew she was small and not that threatening; it had done her well when people didn't expect her to be able to pack much of a wallop. She wasn't sure how many of the other Tributes had been confused when they realised they were taken out by an architecture student.