[OPEN] ain't no party like a D̴̡̀R̶̵̶A̷̵̡̛͜G̷͟ ̀҉̸̀͢Q͝҉͟͏U҉͘͟͜͡Ȩ͜҉͞E̷͢Ņ ̷̷̕Ṕ̷̧̛͞A̷͟R̸̛̕Ţ̀́Y̵̴

[fuckingcool]

Who| Oceana Gunn and all you party people
What| Oceana's throwing the craziest party of the year to celebrate the end of the Arena, and you're invited. Feel free to mingle, post open starters, and tag around to your heart's content!
Where| Her bachelor(ette) pad in the Capitol
When| Post-Arena, pre-Crowning
Warnings/Notes| Uhhh. Drugs, alcohol, sex, language, etc are all possibilities within!



It's high time that someone threw a really great party in this town.

Oceana's been laying low, working on costumes for the upcoming Crowning and watching her babies kick ass in the Arena, but after a while she gets an itch. An itch to invite hundreds of strangers to her penthouse apartment, dress up in her most sickening clothes, and let the booze pour. So that's exactly what she does. Invitations are sent out, crates of liquor are ordered, food is catered in, and the lights are dimmed way down low.

Her apartment is spacious, minimally decorated because it looks fucking cool and she's barely around anyway, and full of dark corners. The living room has a huge table full of finger foods along one wall, a champagne fountain, and a full bar with virtually endless liquor. The music is loud as hell, and the drag queen has even gone to the trouble of paying people to come early and dance, so that the dance floor is never empty.

The hostess herself will be mingling all evening; the glass of vodka in her hand is never empty, and always garnished with at least six olives. She may not be the classiest bitch in the capitol, but it's apparent by looking around that she knows how to throw a killer soirée.

Comments

[tevintage]

He enjoys it. He basks in it. The rage almost balming, almost soothing.

"Here?" He asked mildly, the burning and writhing of his veins completely masked, his face as still as polished marble. He would not lose his temper. Not here. Not now. "I'm afraid I can't. My schedule clearly has me attending this party for the next half hour, and I wouldn't want to upset our host."

[whatisay]

"We're going outside. You're coming with me." Jason says it firmly, definitively. He feels as if the seams of his body are rushing with hot embers being swept along in his veins. "That's a direct order or I'll report you for insubordination."

[tevintage]

"That implies you weren't planning to already," Dorian said, mildly, but there's only so far he's willing to push his luck on this one. He bows his head and gestures to the balcony.

"After you."

[whatisay]

Once he has Dorian's cooperation, he needs no second urging. He heads to the balcony and near reels at the cool night air on his face. The cigarette comes out again, but the vapor capsule in there is empty, and Jason grits his teeth as he works a new one into the stick.

"You know what the Avoxes are, Dorian?"

[tevintage]

"Traitors and slaves," He says, blankly, watching the cigarette with a dull level of interest - vaguely wishing it would burst into flame in Jason's hand. If he'd had his magic-- Well. Wishes were as common as maggots. He knows he isn't expected to answer further than that, so he doesn't, leaning back against the railing lazily instead.

[whatisay]

Would that the camphor took effect the instant he inhaled it, or that it was strong enough to do more than dull a sharp edge. Jason hates doctors, has never trusted them, but every once in a rare while he wonders if what his mother says about pills is correct.

"They're brainwashed into obedience because traitors can't be trusted without rewiring. They're automatons. They don't respond to questions because questions scare them, and they don't appreciate being treated as individuals. The Capitol puts it in their heads to be afraid of that. You might want to show them kindness but the best way to do that is to pretend they don't exist." He exhales the blue smoke. "There are a few Tributes who've undergone the procedure who can tell you I'm right."

[tevintage]

"So I should smash glasses at their feet, instead?" It's said mildly. He isn't horrified by the idea - not like he should be. His world has the Rite of Tranquility, to use against mages who have abused their magic, or are in danger of being possessed by demons.

It strips a person of both their magic, and all of their emotions.

He's already half way there.

"Make a scene in the middle of a party by throwing a temper tantrum at a creature that cannot reply? Here I thought I was meant to behave, to save your precious reputation. If you're so concerned about it, you should make less of an effort to ruin it on your own."

[whatisay]

"You act like that was something out of the ordinary for this country. Making a scene? Ask the hostess if she resents her possessions being put back in line." Jason leaves the cigarette in his mouth and straightens his collar. "My reputation is intact, much as it can be with my family considered."

The Compson family is an open secret in the Capitol, and eventually, Jason's sure Dorian will hear tell of it. May as well shape his opinion of it early.

[tevintage]

"Oh dear me," Dorian says, his voice absolutely dripping with sarcasm, and more than a little disdain. "Does our glorious, hard-working Escort emerge from a family of black sheep? No, I won't believe it. Perish the thought."

[whatisay]

"The Compsons built this country. We kept the Capitol from falling into the hands of the barbarians years ago. That's the title I've got myself to live up to."

He knows Dorian's reacting with sarcasm, but he doesn't truly care. At this point he's nearly fueling his own anger, getting high off the fumes of the injustices committed against him.

"And every person in my generation has done enough to squander that that I don't even want the name anymore. I have this job so I can raise my niece and my lunatic brother and keep my mother on her feet. If I kick the furniture, everyone knows I have a goddamn reason. If I can't get a winner out of this shithole of a District, though, that's what's going to sink me."

[tevintage]

"Well I can't imagine why you wouldn't see a winner," Dorian said dryly. "You've been so very inspirational since we've met."

He was the wrong one to run to about family honour - considering what his father had nearly done to him in the name of it.

"So is it sympathy you're trying to obtain, then, with your petty tantrum? You should have said so. I'm sure there are even greater ways we could make people feel sorry for you."

[whatisay]

"I don't need or want your pity or your sympathy. I'm offering by way of an explanation. You keep trying to transpose your world's values onto this place and it's going to get you in trouble." Jason snorts. "Believe me, there are people here with less patience for that than me. And there are people who aren't paid to tolerate it like I am."

He takes a step towards Dorian and takes his cigarette from his mouth with another drag, then taps that glowing electric tip against the end of Dorian's nose. "So stop interfering and fussing."

[tevintage]

Dorian didn't blink - his eyes the only part of him registering the seething anger, and kept them firmly locked on Jason's. The cigarette's end was hot, but no where near close enough to burn, and Dorian was used to playing with fire.

"Yes, ser," Dorian said, accentuating the second word - the title from Thedas rather than from Earth, though it sounded nearly the same. "As you wish."

[whatisay]

"Good. Enjoy the party."

And with that, Jason turns, unafraid to leave his back open to Dorian, and with a pinch to the bridge of his own nose heads back inside.