[open]

[affluenza]

Who| Dandy Mott and YOU
What| Dandy enjoys his time in the Capitol and tries to get some good PR while he's at it.
Where| All around!
When| Throughout the week
Warnings/Notes| Nothing yet, but it's Dandy so I'll edit if anything comes up.

[1 - District 6 Suites]

[It would seem that Dandy's wish for a new toy train to replace the one he lost in the arena had been granted - unfortunately for everyone he shared a distract with. This new train - a shiny red one - came with tracks that he could put together as he pleased and a button to make the train go along them by itself.

And he's amused enough by it that he's building the tracks wherever he pleases, not really caring if they end up in some common area or another tribute's room.

Really, he's just focused on laying more track down before the train gets to the end and falls off. Hope you all like trains.]

[2 - In the Central Commons]

[Dandy sat on one of the couches in the central commons, a glass soda bottle in one hand and a half-eaten chocolate chip cookie in the other. He eyed the bar briefly, but going to a bar on his own wasn't appealing and besides, he had to watch everything he said and did when fans could be watching. Sure, he'd have some wine at parties, but he wouldn't let his judgement be impaired here.

If there was one thing that baffled him about this place, it was how many of the tributes seemed to genuinely be friends with each other. Dandy barely understood the concept of friendship as it was, but wasn't everyone here technically in competition? Wouldn't it just hurt, to have to kill your friends or watch them die?

Oh well, the more people hung up on friendship, the better chance he had of winning. He sipped his soda and stared ahead, sizing up his competition.]

[3 - At a Capitol Party]

[Dandy was desperate to cultivate his own fan base here, and he's been told that to do so he has to mingle with the people of the Capitol. So, naturally, when he received an invite to a Capitol party, he jumped at the opportunity to go.

He was dressed in a fine suit, holding a glass of red wine and joking around with a few Capitol citizens, laughing at their jokes and making sure to tell them what a lovely party it was. He used to hate these types of social gatherings, mostly because they were usually an excuse for the dull, older aristocrat types to talk about investments and the economy and other boring things, or worse, an attempt by his mother to find him a nice girl to marry and have children with. Yuck.

Now, however, lots of people wants to know more about his absolute favorite topic: himself. He doubted that he was the only tribute here so he couldn't really call himself the center of attention, but he was getting some attention and that was good enough.]

Comments

1

[voiceinthephone]

There's a special level of hell reserved for those who make noise when there are people who are hung over. And, according to a very distressed Phillip, there was an exclusive torture chamber near Satan's personal throne for whoever was making this train run around the District 6 Suites.

"Freddy, kill me now..." he muttered in his pillow, pleading for the sweet release of death over having to hear the chug-chug-chug of that damnable toy train or the heavy steps of the owner walking around.

Grabbing a hoodie and sweatpants, Gray stepped out and yawned, "Mind keeping it down, sir? Some of us can hear colors." Worse, he had set up his practice time ten minutes from now. Thanks Dandy, you became today's alarm clock.

[affluenza]

"It doesn't have a volume setting, it's a train, not a television," Dandy said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

And he doesn't stop, or even attempt to keep it down.

[voiceinthephone]

"Then can I ask why you're laying tracks..." when Phil opened his eyes, he saw the extent of Dandy's train-tracks, he was both impressed and annoyed, "Everywhere?" Oh dear Lord, Julian was probably a sweetheart compared to this man.

Okay, new approach before my brain explodes, the former guard schemed before almost tripping on the problematic toy. "Jeez , it's like stepping on a lego," he muttered before putting his best face forward, "Is there any way you can do this in the floor's common area? It'd help the rest of the Tributes rest and not damage your train. Wouldn't be a problem at all."

[affluenza]

"For the train to go on, of course. It'll just fall over if it's not on the tracks, haven't you ever played with one before?" he said, laying a few more pieces down, "And I don't want to move what I've already built. I'm a star, so you can all just deal with it."

[voiceinthephone]

"Of course I've played with-" That last part earned Dandy a flat "What" from a clearly recovering Phil, enough for him to have the gall and say, "How are you a star? I don't even know your name." He didn't care at the moment, he'd read about it in the newspaper.

This needed coffee and like hell some man-child was getting between Gray and his mug. He grumbled something about dealing with kids on sugar rushes that were better than what he was dealing at the moment. He studied the man though: lean, kinda stuffy, would've been precocious if he was a few decades older, now it was just disturbing.

[affluenza]

"I'm a star in the Capitol, where they have the good sense to adore people like me," he said, "And I've never heard of you, either. I doubt the Capitol has, either. You don't seem to have a lot of star power, no offense."

[voiceinthephone]

"People like you?" now the guard was annoyed as he served himself coffee, "Well then, what district are you representing? I'm District 6."

God are you there? It's Phillip...please don't let this spoiled brat of a man be in District 6. He'll do anything for someone else to have this one.

3

[fusshionable]

[Porrim's an ever-constant presence at parties like this; putting in appearances is important when you're as closely tied to the Games as she is, and her biggest business here is chatting up potential sponsors. She's dressed all in black, her velvet skirt sweeping the floor with slits up both sides, nursing a glass of champagne as she half-listens to someone talking about blah blah whatever latest technology he's developing.

Taking in the room, her gaze lands on one of the newer Tributes, one that Porrim's heard whispers about here and there. Intrigued, she excuses herself from the conversation and crosses the room to sidle up next to Dandy, inclining her head to an excited huddle of Capitolites nearby.

"That's one of the Gamemakers over there," she says nonchalantly. "No use trying to suck up; they don't take well to it, but it's always nice to know who's plotting against you."

[affluenza]

"So that's who they're all talking to, I was worried it might be another tribute," he said with smile.

If it had been another tribute, he would have been awfully jealous, but as it was he was still in good spirits, "I'm Dandy. Dandy Mott."

[fusshionable]

"Not to worry," Porrim assures him. "Even the more popular Tributes don't get that much attention. Unless, of course, they're something special."

She turns her gaze on Dandy, dark eyes with three jade dots tattooed beneath each, under fluttering gold-painted lashes. "Dandy. I've heard you're quite the socialite," she observes, holding out a hand. "Porrim Maryam. I'm Five's Escort."

[affluenza]

"I'll have to try to be something special, then," he says, taking her hand in his and gently kissing the top of it, "And yes, the Motts are very old money, this type of thing is in my blood by now. You look absolutely lovely tonight, might I add."

[fusshionable]

Porrim gives Dandy her most fetching grin. "That's promising," she murmurs, watching him kiss her hand, before drawing it back politely. "I'd heard you were ambitious, but the rumor mill isn't always as accurate as I'd like. It's good to meet a Tribute who knows where his best interests lie."

The compliment earns him a chuckle. "I'm glad you think so. I'd be devastated if all my hard work was for naught."

[affluenza]

"This is a dream come true for me, really. A man of my social standing was expected to stay out of the public eye as much as he could for the sake of the estate, but fame has always been my calling," he says, sipping his wine.

"I think everyone here works very hard on their appearance," he says, looking around at the other patrons for a moment before whispering, "But between you and me, I think you've done it best."

1

[atethecanary]

When he starts hearing train sounds, Julian’s got a pretty good idea of who’s making that racket outside his room. He’s comfy sitting on his bed, though, eating a bag of hard candies he’s managed to snag, so he decides to be gracious and let it go. But when Dandy starts putting the tracks down in his room, that’s where Julian draws the line.

“Your dumb train can’t go through my room. Stop that,” Julian orders, but he still doesn’t want to get up from his spot, so he starts throwing the candies at Dandy, aiming for his head. It will be annoying to have to clean them up later, but it’s a sacrifice Julian supposes he’ll have to make.

[affluenza]

"My train isn't dumb, you're dumb, and now that I know you don't want it in here I'm going to keep building," he said, swatting away the candies as he laid more track down on the floor.

[atethecanary]

“I’m not dumb! You’re the dumb one. Even dumber than your train,” he frowns, realizing it looks like Dandy has no plans of stopping anytime soon, and decides he has no other choice but to get off his spot on the bed. Julian brings the bag of candies with him as he does so, continuing to throw them at Dandy even when he’s standing right by where Dandy is setting down the tracks. Julian smirks; it’s a pain that he had to get up, but at least now he’s able to throw the candies harder at Dandy.

“If you don’t stop, I’ll be forced to take drastic measures."

[affluenza]

"Oh, drastic measures? What are you going to do, lightly bruise me? Throw your candy at me? If you want to waste good candy, be my guest," he said.

[atethecanary]

Julian huffs, tosses the bag of the candy to the side, and takes a couple of steps away to bend down and dislodge one of the tracks from its place. He holds it up, a gap now in the train tracks, and moves a couple more steps to dislodge another. “If you don’t stop, I’m going to start breaking these,” he says as he waves around the track he’s already pulled up.

[affluenza]

"Hey, put that back down! It doesn't belong to you and I didn't say you could play!" Dandy says, stomping one foot on the ground.

1

[dead_black_eyes]

District 6's Panem-raised former victor keeps a very strange schedule. During the Arenas, he's either drunk, nodding, both, or hungover; he's so busy that it's a wonder he manages to find time to find sponsors and send parachutes to his District's Tributes.

He shuffles out into the suite's common area, making a rare venture outside of his room and looking immensely disheveled. His pants are from yesterday, and his bathrobe is open, revealing a very pale and very bony chest. He's barefoot, which, given Dandy's current pursuit, is probably not the best idea. He hisses in sharp pain as he steps on a section of track, kicking it aside and disrupting the sections its connected to.

"You..." he addresses Dandy, voice strained and tetchy. "...Mott. There are people walking through here, you know."

People who are clearly well on their way to getting dangerously intoxicated, but that's beside the point.

[affluenza]

"Hey!" Dandy says, about to get angry that his work was disrupted before sizing Linden up.

They hadn't actually spoken before, but he had hears of his mentor, at least, and Dandy realized that he was speaking with him now. Meaning, he had to play nicer than he would with a tribute.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't realize anyone would step on it," he says, picking up some track and moving it out of the way, "I ran out of space in my room and no one else wanted to play."

[dead_black_eyes]

Linden doesn't look like much, but there's a bitter, frigid harshness to him that is its own brand of intimidating. His reputation does precede him, and most Tributes in 6 are warned about his temperament and tendencies during orientation. His has a bad side, and a slightly less bad side, and staying on the latter is pretty imperative, because Linden famously holds vicious grudges.

"Play?" he asks, tasting the word, deeming it off and sour, eyes following the track as Dandy moves it. "Adults in Panem have different games. Perhaps that's why."

He shuffles to the kitchen, unceremoniously raiding the liquor cabinet and getting two glasses filled with ice. Without turning back toward Dandy, he shakes the glass and rattles the ice in his direction.

"Play with me."

[affluenza]

Dandy isn't too worried about anyone's bad side, considering he himself has nothing but a bad side. Or, well, a side he shows when he's getting what he wants, and the absolute vicious brat he is otherwise.

But he looks at the liquor and shrugs, getting up from where he was playing with the train, "Alright. I like that game, too."

[dead_black_eyes]

If one walks the path of an addict in Panem, there's no better profession to have than that of a former Victor. It's easy to get things, the best and finest according to most whims, because happy Victors remind Panem that the system works and that Snow is indeed a generous and benevolent leader. Even if that happiness has a somewhat glazed and glassy quality, it's what matters, and the fact that Victors from some Districts have a nasty habit of dying young and ill tends to be overlooked. There are always new Victors, younger ones who are more attractive and less jaded.

"Good man," Linden replies dully, dumping a generous amount of liquor in Dandy's glass and handing it over, still not looking at him. "You represent District 6, so you should try this. It's nothing like anything in the Capitol; we call it motor oil, because that's exactly what it tastes like."

He takes a deep swig, glancing down at his bony, exposed chest as if noticing that his robe is open for the first time and moving to draw it closed.

[affluenza]

He takes a swig of it, and then coughs, pursing his lips like he'd just had to take some nasty medicine, "Wow. Sure is strong. I usually just have cognac."

But he had to try and finish his glass anyways, because he didn't want to look like a wimp in front of a former victor.

"Did you have a lot of fans, after you won?" Dandy said, always asking the important questions.