thecapitol | I wanna drink until I ache

Entry tags:

I wanna drink until I ache

Who| Jessica & Barbie ; Jessica & Open
What| Jessica stays high all the time and interacts with people.
Where| Various.
When| Anytime after Marius' death is announced.
Warnings/Notes| Barbie gets his own thread, anyone else is welcome to tag in with one of the prompts, or your own!

It's fair to say she's getting worse. Jessica's always been a partier, anyone who knows her knows this. But lately, everything's gotten out of control. She's out at all hours dancing her life away. And when she isn't dancing, she's boozing it up, worse than she ever did before. She's distracted, unfocused, and beyond that, the only emotion she feels much of is anger. And it's far better to numb away the anger than to act on it. Even little things like shopping or getting her hair done seem hollow and pleasureless. It's upsetting. It's unnerving. And she'd much rather be drunk, thank you very much.

A ; Training

Drunk or not, a girl still has to look good if she's going to maintain her status as a high profile model and celebrity Victor. Her fortunes may have fallen, but she's got a body to keep up, so in spite of her excess, she's still up by noon and engaged in her work out routine.

B ; Shopping

Her pain can sometimes be alleviated with a new outfit or purse, and as a trendsetter, it's important that she still make some public appearances from time to time. Generally, she's quite easy to spot in her oversized diamond shaped sunglasses, blonde hair piled up, decked out in something eye catching and daring. Jessica is an attention-getter, not one to be ignored, and even on days where she feels like crap, she's going to catch people's eyes.

C ; D3 Suite

She feels most at home in the D3 suite. It's really the only place she has left anymore, as the only known living Victor of District 3. There's no mistaking that the suite is her territory; her belongings are everywhere throughout, and besides that, her image is all over magazines which litter the tables and countertops, as though her Tributes need to be reminded that their mentor is a bonafide superstar. Also littering the common areas? Empty martini glasses, bottles, and a flask or two. Not that Jessica's bothering to hide her liquor consumption from her Tributes. It's not a secret she's got a problem. They'd have problems too if they were her.

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Her perfectly shaped eyebrows arch questioningly, a slight smirk tugging at her lips. "You want me to spill my secrets?" That was pretty forward of him An interesting strategy, really. But it wasn't like she had many secrets about her Tributes anymore. They'd all been tested in the Arenas. It was just a matter of determining who could perform under what circumstances.

"The women," she says at last, shrugging. "Natasha, Cassandra, Tess. Any of the three could win it. They're all contenders."

Jessica's cry erupted from the back of her throat, a sound of sheer agony. Slowly though, the scream dissolves into a cry. Her tears are so hot they just about burn her cheeks as the trickle down to her chin.

"You're wrong. You've got it all wrong. I've been drowning myself for the last eight and a half years, Albert. You just happened to come in during the final descent. I'm not crying for help. I don't want any of you near me. Let me go down with the ship. That's all I want. Fuck."

Victors, as Jessica must know very well, walk a fine line between feeling no fear and feeling all of it. Linden's no exception.

"Don't spill your secrets," he advises with a chuckle. "But if they slosh over a little bit, it's no big deal." He raises an eyebrow when she names the three most dangerous women in her District; he can't say he's surprised, but he's grateful that it doesn't sound like bullshit. He's seen these Tributes in action himself, after all.

"From 6, everyone talks about Molotov Cocktease, but I have to admit... I don't much care for her. I make sure the sponsored gifts reach her, but otherwise..." he shakes his head. "She reminds me of a Career. No offense," he adds glibly.

He crumbles when she starts crying. He doesn't know what it is in him that when a woman starts crying in front of him, he folds like a bad hand of cards. Maybe it's sexist, but he can't leave with her in this state regardless of what she demands so instead he stands awkwardly in front of her, having stood up when she started to scream, unsure of what exactly to do with himself.

"I'm trying to..." He wets his lips nervously and kneels instead, so clearly out of his depth but care still there on his face regardless. "Jessica, I'm no good at this. You've figured that out by now, I'm sure, but I do know pain. I do. I've killed, I've seen death, everyone I've ever been close to has died at least once. Hell, I've died before ever setting foot in Panem. I know this feeling and alcohol can't fill it, dying is no release. If you don't want us - me - near you then... fine it's your choice, but make it in a positive way. That's all..."

He leans his temple against the arm of the couch, looking at her and wondering if he should go get Barbie. She always seems happier around him, calmer, and who is he to judge codependency when he's the exact same with Jet.

"None taken," Jessica said coolly. She wasn't a career, after all. She was only sleeping with one. "I can't say I know much about Ms. Cocktease, really. I've never paid her much attention. Little Clementine, though... she's young, but she's got spunk. It's a shame she can't grow up, otherwise she'd be a killer for sure."

All she could do was shake her head, not giving an actual damn about appearances for once in her frivolous life. Everything was a mess. Everything sucked. What was the point of denying the obvious anymore? She was gone, so far gone that she didn't think looking back would make a difference anymore. And she didn't want to look back Looking back could only do one thing for her: frighten her into changing her mind.

"Just go." She said hoarsely. "You've got an Arena to win. Now, go."

Offense is a strange thing in the Capitol, and whether someone might feel it by association is difficult to predict. Linden tends to err on the side of what qualifies as caution for him, which... might make a difference, as long as it could be worse.

"She does have that air of mystery down," Linden admits. "But Clementine... admittedly, a lot of people have a soft spot for her. She doesn't have to be a killer to win, not when so many are willing to die to protect her or fling sponsorships her way. If anything, I think the older Tributes have made it less acceptable for the very young to be killed..."

He doesn't comment on Clem not being able to grow up. That's been true of most Tributes already for decades, and though it's certainly a strange variation, Linden refuses to see it as very fundamentally different.

He just sighs and stands at that, not so much giving up as letting it rest for now. It's not a battle, it's siege, and he doesn't have all the weapons he needs to break down those walls. He'll have to send a message to Barbie, the big gun.

"Alright," though he has no intention of winning, never has, and if Jessica were in her right mind he's fairly certain she would have had words with him in regards to that long ago. It's a conversation he's glad to have avoided, but not like this.

"I expect you here when I get back. This isn't over."

"Then you might have your winner right there." She pursed her lips in consideration. Clementine might just carry the day on charm alone, but Jessica couldn't see the Capitol being too happy about a winner without blood on her hands. Not after they'd twisted everyone else into action.

The very thought of it warranted something else. "I'm thirsty. How's about you give me another little sip, hm?"

"She's done it before, in an Arena where it ultimately didn't help her stay out of future Arenas or become a Mentor, but she's more than capable," Linden shrugs. "I'm not nearly as worried about her as I am about the others."

If he's surprised by her request, he gives no indication, but he does hand over the flask with a half-smile. "Of course. Thanks, by the way... it's better somehow to know that I don't have to drink alone."

Her lips form a thin smirk in return and she takes a longer sip of that rank stuff, pretty nose wrinkly in disgust. It's not healthy to engage on any level, yet here she is. Can't stop, won't stop. "You never have to drink alone, hun. There's always a party in Three. Binges that last for days. And when the Tributes go, it gets even wilder."

"Always a party?" he asks, seeming to mull over the offer in earnest. Though Linden seems to dislike most social engagements, he can't deny that he gets lonely sometimes shooting up or getting wasted in the dark silence of his own room.

"I guess that sounds like something I'll have to check out, even if 3's not really one of my kindred Districts."

Everyone who knows anything is aware that Linden is most drawn to District 2, for reasons that don't take much to ferret out.

He shook his head, hand raising to cradle her face and catch her eyes with his. "You haven't ruined anything, what is there left to ruin? You're right, you're one of the last people from District 3 left and I will never stop helping you with that pain because I know it won't go away, but that doesn't mean you get to throw it all out by climbing into a bottle and hiding from it."

He could see her crumbling, could see he was working his way in and he took that and his frustration to tie a safety line around Jessica's waist. He would get her out of this destructive cycle even if he had to do it in a less than gentle way.

"It's the Capitol that's ruining everything. You're not bad, you're not ruined, but this place will destroy you if you stay here. The suitors, the parties, the politics, the booze...it has to go, Jessica." He pressed a kiss to her cheek and let their foreheads rest together. "I want you to come back to District 1 with me. It's not home for either of us and there's still some politics we'll have to face, but it'll be a chance to get better. We can have a life if we stop trying to make one here and I want you to share it with me." It wasn't really a question, but a statement. Even if she sobered up, found her feet and decided Barbie wasn't for her later on down the road, he'd pack her bags himself to get her started on it.

"Well," she began, swirling the bottle around in her hand before handing it back to him. "We can be kindreds now. It's just me, you know. No one else on my floor has ever even been to Three before."

"District One?" Her mascara soaked lashes fluttered, breath catching in her throat. "You want to take me to One?"

Never had that possibility crossed her mind. She was a bird, trapped forever in the cage that was the Capitol. There was no escape, no open window for her to crawl through. She'd looked for a way out and she hadn't seen it. How was it that he was now making her this offer, giving her a chance to really start over again, far, far away from it all.

"They'd never let us go. You know that, Barbie. They'd never..." God, but it was like her girlish fantasies come to life. At long last, her knight in shining armor was here. But realizing her dreams seemed so impossible. Jessica couldn't rectify it all working out in her head. At least, not while she was drunk anyway.

He accepts the bottle back; even if 3 doesn't mean anything particular or special to him, Jessica's offer is meaningful. Though drug and alcohol use isn't stigmatized in the Capitol (quite the opposite), dependence is. Addiction is something to be ashamed of and hidden, with excessive consumption passed off by many as a choice they have full control over.

"That's my least favorite part about the new Games. I don't think any of the Tributes have been outside of the Capitol. So few are even interested in it. They think that 'this world is crazy' but they haven't actually seen how most of us live, so it's an unfair judgment."

"Yes, they will. I've still got a couple strings to pull and favors to call in, they'll help us with the media and secure us a train ride out, we just have to be there." He pet her hair gently, hoping she understood he'd never been more serious about something in his life.

"We're gonna get out of here, Jess, and we're gonna find somewhere to keep our heads down until they forget about us." Not a particularly hard goal, the Capitol dropped one shiny thing and picked up another faster than someone could blink. "And then we're gonna live the way we want to live. We'll leave it all behind, move on, and make our lives something we want them to be. I know it might seem impossible right now, but I promise you I will make this happen for you. For both of us. Will you come with me?" He wanted her to agree to it. He could push her onto a train and drag all her stuff with him and it wouldn't feel right if she hadn't said yes to begin with. He couldn't help her if she didn't want to be helped.

Jessica hesitated. What he was offering her was huge. It was major. It was bigger than anything anyone had ever offered her before. Her entire life had been one mistake after another, with no possible way to escape the machinery. She was in so deep that there seemed to be no way out. And now...

She closed her eyes tight. What price would they have to pay? What would Barbie have to give them to make it all come to pass? And could she forgive herself for everything she'd put him through? She thought she'd lost everyone and everything precious in the world, but that wasn't true. She still had him. And after everything she'd done, he still wanted her.

"Dale," Jessica whispered, voice hoarse from crying. "I... I'll go with you. Please just, promise me you won't leave me behind."

"That's all on purpose, you know." Jessica said solemnly. "If they saw what's really going on, they'd be so pissed off they'd be uncontrollable." At least that's what she hoped would happen. If the Tributes were enraged by their pampered lifestyles, they ought to be doubly enraged when faced with the brutal truth of Panem. Panem wasn't crazy. It was cruel, and that cruelty was constructed by men. And, at the end of the day, men could be defeated.

"You really think so?" he brings his flask to his lips, drinking thoughtfully as he mulls it over. "At least some of them would be, perhaps..."

He keeps his voice low, aware that there are cameras and mics pretty much everywhere and that saying anything too obviously is just inviting Peacekeepers to rush them. Stephen's treason charge is a little too recent for comfort.

"Wouldn't that be something?" he asks quietly, glancing up once he's finished his drink.

Relief flooded him and he could have sworn it suddenly became a little easier to breathe. It wouldn't be easy for a long time, maybe even never, but hearing those words made it easy enough.

A smile, small in it's size but huge in the amount of happiness it held, formed. It was happiness he'd been missing for as long as she'd been missing hers. He leaned down again and softly kissed her lips. "Never. I'll keep walking with you, no matter where the path takes us.""

She couldn't quite let herself relax, not yet. She was still too afraid of the consequences and that he might be fooling her. She knew he wasn't, but she was still so afraid. Silencing the anxiety would take a lot more than a kiss, loathe as she was to admit it.

"You mean it, don't you? I'm a rotten person and you still love me. I've been horrible and you'd take me away. Why? I don't understand it. I don't deserve you, Dale Barbara." Jessica shook her head, ran her hands through her messy blonde locks. "I've done everything wrong. I... I must've been good in a past life or something I guess."

"Yeah," she says, smoothing back her blonde hair out of her face. "Wouldn't it just? Imagine what they'd think if they saw the people in Six. Or the corpses in Three." Somehow, she's able to keep herself from flinching and keep her voice nice and quiet. Slowly though, she lets herself smile. "It's just a thought."

He shook his head and rubbed his thumb across the skin of her shoulder where his hand was resting in attempt to soothe. "You're not rotten, Jess. We've both done things we're not proud of and this place just made us worse. Whether it makes sense or not, I love you and I'm going to keep loving you for a long time. That's why I'm doing this: I want to see you smile again."

He could remember the look she'd given him when he first showed back up in the Tribute Tower, how wide her smile had been then, he'd loved her smile.

"I don't see someone who's rotten, I see someone who's got amazing strength, she just needs to find it again."

His already round eyes go slightly wider at her flippant and admittedly cutting words. She's right, of course, that's not in question... things have gone to hell in the Districts lately, and had been well on their way for some time, and Linden is painfully familiar with the hollow cheeks and eyes characteristic of 6's factory workers, pale as ghosts despite living in the desert.

"I want to take my Tributes to 6," he says in an undertone. "That's one of the biggest differences between the new Games and the old ones... when we were in the Arena, it actually felt like something was at stake. When I won, we got more water rations and they built a library in 6. I felt like I'd done something to help them. To the new Tributes, 'them' is just a vague concept, faceless masses that are elsewhere."

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I wanna drink until I ache

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I'm so sorry for how old this is, we don't have to keep doing this thread if you don't want to

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♥♥♥♥

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