thecapitol | I want a girl with uninterrupted prosperity, who uses a machete to cut through red tape.

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I want a girl with uninterrupted prosperity, who uses a machete to cut through red tape.

Who: Azula, Open to All
What: Just another day at the spa, because you deserve it.
Where: The New Image Day Spa.
When: After the Mini Arena.

In truth Azula suspected she spent far too much time at the Spa. But once a week was reasonable for someone who lived such a stressful life wasn't it?

Her favorite spa was always ready for her, always acted with absolute professionalism. She felt like royalty as she breezed through the doors and the greeters bowed politely taking her coat and guiding her immediately deeper into the building.

In a fit of charity, and a desire to connect deeper with her tributes she's invited a few to join her but she's not sure if or when they'll show up. For now she allows the staff to lead her from one room to the next, full body massage, seaweed wrap, and a trip to the open air mineral water hot springs to completely relax the body and pull out all the toxins and stress that built up in any busy persons life.

After the soak in the hot spring would begin the building up process again. Manicures and painting, hair styling and make up all to make sure that when you left the building you were stunning and beautiful. Depending on how you were dressed you might be ready for a night on the town (Presuming you had your curfew pass)

Today though Azula's plans were entirely focused on the spa and then returning to the tribute center. No more work outs, no more parties. She had to re-evaluate her plans. Things weren't progressing very much at all and it was starting to bother her. Her tributes had seemed to peek in both skill and ambition. Financial donors were getting bored and worst of all? She had joined the resistance months ago and hadn't come upon anything of use she could turn into an offering for them to prove her loyalty.

She was dedicated to the cause of changing the Capitol, she just didn't have a clue how to do it.

This would be an excellent place to think, she was sure of it.

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"Hmm." She made a noncommittal sort of sound with her lips and she smirked closing her eyes.

"Not as easy as it sounds I'm sure. I think in my case I might want the world to hold itself to a higher standard. To push and work harder, and to earn the pleasures that should come with such achievements."

A world of fair and just rewards. Where those who earned their pleasures enjoyed them and those who didn't faded away.

"Life isn't fair, but it should be." She added. "And it's up to the best of us to make those changes."

Of course Azula's idea of what is and isn't fair is slightly skewed in favor of the strong devouring the weak.

"That sounds kind of weird, coming from you." Venus casts a sidelong glance at Azula. "Are you sure you weren't banging Enjolras behind my back?"

She rests her hand on her stomach, fingertips pressing at the indents between her ribs.

"Or do you just want a world that doesn't leave you, personally, wanting?"

Even the joke is enough to twist her lips into a look of disgust. Thankfully Venus hits on her true intentions and she brought a finger to her nose tapping it gently in indication of accuracy.

"It shouldn't be so much to ask that I get what I deserve. Same as any woman."

Though of course she deserved much more then most women.

Azula's expression makes Venus snort. She leans in as if conspiring.

"Some women stop after just asking." Venus raises her eyebrows, pulling the robe tighter around herself. "Some women go further. I don't think Panem has a ton of patience for the latter."

Azula remained still, not leaning away as she did with other people when they got too close. Venus was on a very short list of people she trusted enough to share personal space with for a short period of time at least.

"Yes well, we may live in a world run by men, but there are plenty of ambitious women who have made a place for themselves in it. I won't deny you're probably right though." She lowered her voice to agree with Venus surreptitiously.

Leaning back into her seat once more she let the specially shaped pillow cushion her head in a natural way meant to relieve tension in her neck.

"Was your world different in that regard? Who held the ruling majority?"

"I'm betting if I said 'white folks', that wouldn't mean a damn thing to you." Venus snorts and smiles. All loosened up, her accent is starting to peak out, flickering through like underpainting. "But no, my world ain't different in that regard."

She knows how much she's done to appeal to the male gaze; people say it's power over them, but it's only giving men what they want.

Azula notices the accent and is amused by it, though it reminds her of that rude and insane tribute that died some time ago and her incredibly rough way of speaking that slipped out sometimes.

"Of course I know what you mean by that. I may be pale as milk but I'm aware of an imbalance of power based on appearances." She didn't bother opening her eyes while she explained her understanding, she didn't sound offended though. Just relaxed and mellow which was exactly what this place was supposed to do to her.

"I wonder if it's just in human nature to be terrible. And the ones of us who are decent are some form of mental and emotional mutation that will eventually be bred out or overtake us and become the standard that terrible people can never live up to." Another chuckle, amused by the concept apparently.

"Nah. You wouldn't be white in my world. You'd be Asian, and they'd call you yellow for it." She shrugs. "Which means you'd still be a rung up from me, but not a white folk. That's how those things work. It's stupid but it's how it is, where I'm from."

She can't imagine that a few months ago she'd be able to listen to Azula talk about how terrible others are without laughing. "Do you think we're going to die out or overtake, then?"

That caught her interest and she arched an eyebrow.

"Is that so? I've always been told I had "exotic" features." She made air quotes with her fingers and looked mildly put off to express how that usually made her feel. "Honestly it sounds like a word reserved for erotic dancers." Back in the day before her break down there had been a few men who had come courting her and the moment they had used that phrase for whatever reason it had always caused Azula to lose any respect she might have had for them.

And she respected almost no one back then.

"I suppose if I were to consider it, I have more faith in the younger generation overtaking the old. And so in that sense yes I believe we collectively will overtake. Aside from age putting them ever closer to being useless some old fashioned ideas simply don't work anymore no matter how hard they try to maintain a status quo."

It was a fine line between unfounded optimism and an overabundance of self confidence.

"I should like to see you rise beyond what you think is your full potential before you burn out in either respect."

Venus pauses, opening her eyes and staring at the ceiling. It's so white that the only thing she can see if floaters across her vision, like the opposite of sight. She blinks, and the world ends. She opens her eyes and it begins again.

She should respond to more of what Azula's saying, but it burbles over her like water.

"What do you think my full potential is?"

That was an easy question and she answered without hesitation.

"To win."

It was decisive and solid, not even an order or encouragement just a stated fact. She recaptured her drink and rose it to her lips so they were hidden when her added for only Venus to hear, "And I don't just mean in the arena."

Her tributes may not be winners at the moment but they could be. She knew it.

And just like that the drink was empty and set back on the edge of the pool.

"You're long past due for a win." She finished.

"I don't want to win." Venus' very voice tiptoes like a ballerina, quiet but not unsteady. She knows that Azula may very well consider that a betrayal. That she wants to see the people of her District fatted on her Tributes' victories and that Venus is denying that so.

But she's been honest so far today.

"I never want to win." Not in the Arena. She doesn't know what it would mean in Panem in general.

The idea of "Not wanting to win" isn't new to Azula. She knows that Shepard never intends to actually win, and it's likely neither does Sam. The Initiate might still have hope of it. But ultimately Azula has been banking on the hope that if she can get her tributes to the final round they will have no choice but to win or die horribly. No heroic sacrifices left.

"Well that is easy enough. But it's much more difficult to keep you alive if it appears you're not even trying. And even if you aren't furthering my goals..." She hesitated and her eyes slid across the room to see who else would over hear. Only a couple attendants folding towels.

"I've grown rather fond of you and don't intend on letting you die if I have any say in the matter. So I'm afraid you're stuck."

"Does it look like I'm not even trying, though? I have the highest kill count out of every Tribute in any of the Arenas, and it's not just because I've done eight of them."

There's a spark there, a part of Venus that's proud of the one thing she can lay claim to. That she knows she should feel ashamed about, but dammit, she's competent.

It's rare that being corrected makes Azula smile. This is one of those moments.

"To the untrained eye of course not. You have a sizable fandom for a reason and it's not just your social life." She agreed and let her fingers dip into the water to make ripples glide across the surface.

"Do you think you can continue to perform that way with no end goal in sight?" Because the idea that anything would change anytime soon was still laughable despite how many changes Azula had personally witnessed in the last two years.

"I think the less of a goal I have, the better my performance will get." And it's true. When her only aim was to die, she killed more. Now that she's tried to go about it in a morally salient way her list of murders has shortened significantly.

"You don't know me, Azula. You know the surface. You don't know why I got into the field I did, and believe me, it's because the end goal was really..." She reaches for and finds a word that she picked up back when she was dating Enjolras, "nihilistic."

Normally Azula hates being told she doesn’t know something almost as much as being corrected. It’s her stubborn pride and short temper.

But this place has been carefully chosen for it’s ability to keep her calm. Even sinking to her shoulders in hot water doesn’t stir up her hydrophobia thanks to how many times she’s been here. She lets her eyes drift closed and tilts her head back resting it on the edge of the spring.

“Then enlighten me please. I hesitate to pry into the lives of my tributes if only because you’ve expressed desires to keep such things out of the public eye, but if it’s going to influence how I see you then perhaps it would be more beneficial to fill me in more?” She offered hopefully.

Azula was hardly the type for gossip. Gathering knowledge was always more important to her then sharing it.

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I want a girl with uninterrupted prosperity, who uses a machete to cut through red tape.

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