Swann Honeymead (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cigne) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2015-01-11 02:19 am
cigne) wrote in thecapitol2015-01-11 02:19 am
If you ever get to the place where the sun is shining everyday
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.
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.
no subject
His other hand quickly joins the first one. "What are you on about, exactly? What is any of that? What's a camera?" By the context, it sounds like he's going to be up on some theater stage talking to people about himself.
no subject
"Um, okay. You need to build up a fan base, you do that mostly with interviews. Caesar is Caesar Flickerman, he's like, the most important talk show host in Panem. The Yesteryear Channel is a channel all about stuff that happened in the past. And a camera is... like, okay, so a camera can record everything you and I are saying so that it can be replayed later. So say you wanted to watch a play, but the show was already done? If a camera had been around, you could just watch what it recorded. That's basically a movie."
no subject
"Right then." One hand drops, but on his other hand his fingers fold so that he's only lifting his index to make his next point. "What's this about a 'pirate-themed special', exactly?" Because while Jack hadn't yet corrected her on it, there was still hesitation on his part on acknowledging it in full. Call it old habit and self-preservation fueled paranoia, because even associating one's self with a known pirate, in his time, could end in a hanging.
no subject
If Jack has learned anything about the Capitolites, he should not be surprised to learn that they have entirely romanticized many aspects of history, including pirates. Everything is a soap opera for them.
"It would be so fascinating to have perspective from someone who was really there, everyone would love to hear your stories."
no subject
Couple that all with the fact that he's slated to most likely die anyways in this stupid Arena of theirs, what was the harm. Particularly because Jack liked to talk about himself and tell his stories. And particularly because these Capitolites probably weren't expecting to hear the more unsavory, raunchy, and gory bits to a pirate's daily life.
"As it would be. I wouldn't mind doing it, luv."
no subject
"Thank you, Jack. We're going to make a really good team, and you're going to do really well in the Arena, I just know you are! People are going to be rooting for you!"
no subject
"I'm sure of it. And that's the hope, luv."