If you ever get to the place where the sun is shining everyday

[cigne]

Who| Swann and maybe you???
What| Gotta shape up these Tributes. And maybe have a drink.
Where| D8 Suites and also the bar in the lobby
When| TODAY

a. District 8 Suites
Swann enters the Suite with her heels clicking on the floor, peering around for any sign of life in here. She carries in her shopping bags, each labeled with the name of her Tributes. The bags overwhelm her tiny frame, the sheer amount of them and their size. Even her sky-high stilettos can't balance it all out.

She approaches the sitting room and carefully arranges the bags on the coffee table, placing them just so, very intent on the appearance. She wants everything to look just right when the Tributes come in, wants to see their eyes light up at how pretty the bags are, with their pristine edges and rich black shine and ribbons on the handles.

They have to show up first, though.

b. Lobby bar

All she needed was a single lemon drop martini, and she has it. Sitting on the high barstool, Swann looks out over the lobby, watching people come and go, watching the crowds ebb and flow as the Tributes enter and leave the building. It's interesting enough, made nicer by the drink, and the screens replay all the best scenes from the past Arena.

She occasionally fiddles with her communicators, checking emails and messages and the tabloids, making sure everything's in order while she dares to lounge for just a few moments.

Comments

[samson]

The answer is yes, of course, but those things also have to do with Molotov or the Ventures, so he's not exactly sure how that's going to work, either. Brock grimaces a little, and puts his hands on his knees.

"Yeah... but," he says, rolling his eyes up and then turning to Swann again. "Okay. Real quick. One of the other Tributes here is somebody I used to have a... thing with. Sorta. I don't want to put her in danger, but she's the only one who fills that, uh, role. For me. Outside things like that or not."

He pauses, then gestures vaguely in the air. "There was this one time I had to leave my family 'cause somebody was after me and I didn't want them caught up in it. But still, I don't wanna risk them getting pulled here to fuck with me. But I mean, if you think I could be vague about it..."

[cigne]

"I understand."

She taps her pen to the paper again, and thinks.

"Maybe if you just... don't go into details? I mean, I think they -- the Gamemakers, I mean -- already know who your family are. They do their research. But don't be specific about them, just talk about the actual challenge, breaking your own heart to keep them safe. Make sense?"

[samson]

"Right..." he says slowly, running his hand through his hair. "I think I get you. So just talk about the situation, but not... them. Right?"

[cigne]

"Right. Make it about yourself, because that's what the crowd cares about anyway. Talk about your feelings, what you had to do... you know, whatever to keep the spotlight on your part in the story. Make them afterthoughts, just little details that happen to be around, and you'll keep them safe."

She smiles at him, feeling like they've reached a worthwhile conclusion here.

[samson]

"Okay. It'll be hard," he says, smiling a little, the fondness clear in his expression. Maybe even a little homesickness. Despite everything, the Ventures are still his family; it'll be difficult to keep them on the sidelines of the story when they're so important to him. But he's always been good at keeping them safe, so he'll do what he has to.

"Maybe we could practice later. Before the next big interview or whatever, so I don't mess up."

Though the Capitol does tend to spring that kind of thing on them, so he's not sure how much of a heads up Swann gets.

[cigne]

She can see that he loves them, misses them, and there's a pang of guilt that she can't do anything about, even though she had nothing to do with his being taken away from them.

"Yeah! Next time I book you for Panem Nightly or Caesar, we'll run through it, do some sample questions."

[samson]

It's okay, Swann, Brock is a tough old guy. He can handle it! It's not like he hasn't been separated from them before -- willingly, in fact. He doesn't really want to make her feel guilty, but it's not like he's a mind-reader; she's just as chirpy as ever, so he doesn't know.

"Great," he says, clapping his hands over his knees and then standing up. A successful business meeting! "I'm gonna go shower, unless you got something else?"

[cigne]

"No, have a nice shower! I'll probably grab you in a few days for focus-group testing, but I'll let you know in advance."

She waves at him and goes back to her notes, biting her lip with concentration as she writes things like "Possible hair styling product line? Need group opinions on hair style".