Maybe I'm a sinner and not a saint

[milieus]

Who| Jennifer Blackwood & You.
What| Open log to chat with the Tribute Comfort & Care Administrator
Where| Jennifer's office in the Tribute Center
When| Anytime this month. Feel free to specify as needed.
Warnings/Notes| N/A

With the new influx of Tributes, Jennifer has had her work cut out for her. There are so many files to memorize, so many new faces to welcome to the Capitol. It's time consuming, but she finds purpose in it, and playing welcoming committee chair is something she's rather good at. The task of putting a friendly, human face to the Capitol is difficult, but she's somehow thriving. Of course, it doesn't hurt to have so many wonderful stylists and escorts on her side for this.

And happily, she's found some recent success in terms of Tribute requests. By all accounts, Feferi's salt water shampoo campaign is a real hit, and Buddy Glass has reported his satisfaction with Junior Peacekeeper Terezi's role as a media assistant, and Justine Florbelle was apparently pleased with her medical intern, Joly. And Jennifer had just received the happy news that Albert and Jet would be allowed a special suite to share, one which would unite the second and third floors. Construction would soon be underway, and Jennifer was pleased to share the news with them. Little things like that mattered in the end. Happy Tributes meant happy viewers at home, and happy viewers meant a happy President. And that was the bottom line, wasn't it?

In spite of the work she had before her, Jennifer purposely kept open office hours to allow Tributes, mentors, and employees of the Tribute Center to visit her to petition for various requests. Everyone was welcome to see her, but Jennifer was cautious after the incident with Eponine and found she was more likely to call for Peacekeeper back up than ever before. The moment a situation seemed like it would get out of hand, she would press one of several alarms hidden around her office and alert the authorities that she was in distress. These alarms were a new addition to her office, but a necessary one. She wasn't going to risk being attacked by a Tribute again.

Comments

[molotov]

When Molotov strides in, it is with her usual saunter and a cloud of cigarette smoke. She is, however, dressed nicely, appropriately for a meeting (or as close as she gets) -- a subtly sparkling and incredibly tiny dress in burgundy, lined with fox fur at the neckline and cuffs. There is a matching fur pouf on the toe of each sky-high stiletto she wears.

She doesn't bother to announce herself, although she does put her cigarette out before entering, gently tossing the butt in a wastebasket. Taking a seat in front of Jennifer's desk, she crosses her legs at the knee and rests her hands in her lap.

"Ms. Blackwood."

[milieus]

"Ms. Cocktease." Jennifer is a little surprised to see the woman before her, seeing as Molotov projects an air of self-reliance that generally would prevent her from really needing Jennifer's services. That said, Molotov was not at all unwelcome. If anything, Jennifer is pleased to meet a Tribute of such high caliber, one willing to work within the system and find some measure of success. "To what to I owe the pleasure?"

[molotov]

Molotov's foot bobs idly as she looks at Jennifer, smiling benignly. She doesn't really care to be here, but she's really seeing no other options -- with Stephen having something of a backbone now, Cyrus being totally out of the picture, and the presence of unwanted reminders of home in District 8's Suite, the situation has quickly become intolerable.

"I want you to revisit my request to have an ensuite built in my room," she says calmly. "I've gamely gone through two Arenas, I have more endorsement deals than anyone I can think of, and I'm one half of one of the most popular couples in the Capitol. At this point, I think it's become unreasonable to expect me to continue sharing a restroom."

Her tone is terribly professional, but there's an underlying steely note to it, one that begs not to be trifled with.

[milieus]

"... You mean to tell me you've been sharing a bathroom this entire time?" There's steeliness to Jennifer's voice too, as well as a note of surprise. Her outrage was genuine, the dismay in her eyes mingled with anger. Her well oiled machine has a glitch, and this does not make for a happy Jenny. "I'm in full agreement with you. A Tribute in such high standing ought to reap the benefits she has earned. I assure you, this is an oversight that will be rectified as soon as possible, however this is the first time I've heard anything of your request. May I ask who you made your initial requests to? If there is a bump within the system, it's important that I iron it out."

[molotov]

The answer gives Molotov's smile something of a more genuine note, and she almost lets out a sigh of relief at not having to fight for something.

"Stephen," she answers simply. "He said he asked, when I first got here and requested it, and then told me that I couldn't have my own bathroom unless I won and moved over into the Victor wing of the Suite. Several people I trust have been kind enough to share their bathrooms with me, but it's getting to be more of a burden than anything else. Particularly given my... relationship. You understand."

[milieus]

Well, that explains that.

"Stephen Reagan?" Jennifer lets out a low chuckle. "That's quite unsurprising. You may not realize this, but Stephen and I were childhood sweethearts. It's not at all shocking that he might try to avoid me now, though I harbor no ill will toward him and recall our times together fondly."

Now, to address Molotov's concerns. "I'm sure we can attempt some sort of accommodations for you. It may take some maneuvering, but an arrangement can certainly be made."

[molotov]

Molotov's eyebrow arches high as her smile falls. She's unimpressed with this -- it's not an acceptable excuse to avoid one's job. Stephen might have grown a backbone in recent months, but it wasn't the strongest, and could certainly be broken with the right chewing out.

"Thank you, Ms. Blackwood. I leave it up to you, with my only request being a large bathtub." Her long legs swing uncrossed and she stands, taking a few steps toward the door before glancing over her shoulder. "There is one more thing. But I think he might be above you anyway."

[milieus]

If a large bathroom was the extent of her demands, then Jennifer would think she's lucked out in terms of an easy solution to this problem. Her heart skips slightly when Molotov looks back, however. "Yes? What is it?"

[molotov]

Honestly, Molotov is a pretty simple woman when it comes to her desires, and she can usually obtain what she wants on her own, anyway. Never will she be a problem Tribute for Jennifer.

"I don't particularly appreciate being threatened by.... Minister Reagan." There's distaste in her expression, to say his proper title. "Saying he'll make me disappear, that no one would ever know what happened to me. I understand his unhappiness with how things went in the tabloids, but I can't control their stories from inside the Arena, now can I?"

[milieus]

Concern registers in her eyes and she takes a few steps closer to Molotov. "He's been threatening you?"

This was serious, serious indeed, and so unlike Cyrus. But then again, this wasn't the first report of impropriety she's heard from a Tribute. In fact, Eponine had been quite adamant that Cyrus had been incredibly indecent with her in the past. Jennifer had chalked it up to the lies and slander of a criminal child, but perhaps there's some shred of truth to it, especially if one so cooperative as Molotov Cocktease is parroting the accusations.

"You're right, of course. That's entirely out of line. May I ask you for further details on what happened? The tabloids aren't exactly the best source of information on the subject."

[molotov]

"Well, I've kept away from him since the incident, so he hasn't threatened me recently -- it was at the last Crowning, the one for Clara Murphy."

Molotov leans against a filing cabinet and crosses her arms over her chest before explaining.

"We went for dinner a few times, at his request. The photographers got a few shots and the magazines wrote their stories around them. When I went into the Arena the first time, they were still talking about it. But then I met Tom, and... well, I'm sure you know how that goes. The press had their field day, dragged Cyrus through the mud. I tried telling them we were amicable and nothing was going on, but why listen to me when there's gossip to make up? Minister Reagan blames me for the bad press."

Well, no one said it had to be an honest explanation, but Cyrus would probably look just as bad for agreeing to fake a relationship in exchange for the good graces of an assassin and powerful Tribute.

[milieus]

While Jennifer has a passing familiarity with the content of some of the gossip publications, hearing Molotov's version of events is truly illuminating. She frowns and crosses the room to stand before the Tribute.

"Cyrus Reagan isn't the only politician in the Capitol, Ms. Cocktease. I'd like to speak to my husband about this, if you don't mind my breaking your confidence on the matter. I'm sure Arturas would have thoughts about Mister Reagan's behavior."

[molotov]

"May I ask your husband's standing?"

It's a polite question, asked more out of curiosity than anything else. If Molotov is going to allow Jennifer to bring in someone else, she'd like to be assured that they're not only relevant, but more powerful than Cyrus is, if possible. Anything to keep herself ahead in this silly little chess game.

[milieus]

"He's an advisor to President Snow," she says simply, hands pressed together neatly. "He oversees disciplinary matters presently, mostly in the outer districts. But he's worked closely with law enforcement for many years. I'm certain he could provide some insight."

[molotov]

"What insight, exactly, do you think he can provide?"

Molotov is obviously starting to become suspicious, her body language growing colder by the moment. She's getting the feeling that this is Capitolites trying to help each other, that they'll circle the wagons around her if she lets them.

And she's not about to let them.

[milieus]

Really, if anyone has reason to be worried, it's Cyrus Reagan, not Molotov Cocktease. Jennifer takes her work too seriously to let some idiot of a politician ruin her hard work and possibly thwart her husband's ambitions in the process. After all, it wouldn't do to have the wife of a political hopeful be seen as an utter failure.

"Arturas knows exactly what is permissible behavior for a politician of Cyrus Reagan's standing. And between you and me, there's nothing he'd like more than a chance to bring the Reagan family down a peg or two."

[molotov]

She's just wary of the Capitolites in general, particularly when more than one of them is involved in any given situation. Molotov knows where she stands, technically, in relation to them, and it makes her skittish to have substantial interaction with them, particularly after all this Cyrus business.

Give her a world where Jolie is the only non-Tribute she ever has to talk to.

"All right then," she agrees, after a cautious pause. "Talk to your husband. Let me know what he says."

[milieus]

Jennifer smiles and nods before continuing on to get the door for Molotov. "You'll hear back from me about the bathroom situation regardless. We will certainly speak again soon, Ms. Cocktease."

[molotov]

"Thank you, Ms. Blackwood," Molotov answers, inclining her head, and then sweeps out into the hall and away, lighting a cigarette as she goes.