[semi-open and open]

[capitolprivilege]

Who| Stephen and D6 | Stephen and anyone
What| Trying to convince his Tributes to go the fuck to sleep, and unwinding himself when the kids are in bed
Where| D6 rooms | the coffeeshop downstairs
When| Thursday morning
Warnings/Notes| First prompt closed to D6; the other's open!

A:

Stephen is usually around the D6 rooms. Generally, he's easygoing -- he was stricter for a while there, but after the last Arena, now that his traitor cuff's come off, he's started to let his Tributes get away with more. If you've come to him with a problem, he's done his best to help you, and he's also had a conversation with each of his Tributes about just how many public appearances they want to make. If a Tribute requests that their fancy-event invitations be kept to a minimum, he's done his best to facilitate that. If a Tribute wants to play the social game and network, Stephen's helped them with that, too.

Today, though, he's trying to get in touch with all of his Tributes, because he has something very important to ask them to do.

He has to ask them to sleep.

Stephen is generally sticking around the D6 rooms. When his Tributes wake up, they'll find him in the common area, playing on a tablet. He'll look up at them and grin.

"Morning."

B:

Leave it to Stephen not to take his own advice. Around 4pm, he can be found on the ground floor of the Tribute Center, sipping some kind of froofy coffee. There's probably like three kinds of chocolate in it. It smells divine. If anyone meets his eye, he'll flash them a smile, and wave if he knows them. He's got a tablet propped up in front of him, and it looks like he's flipping through an e-release of a vapid Capitol magazine.

Comments

A

[affluenza]

It was no secret: Dandy wasn't well liked among the tributes in his district, and he wasn't exactly pleasant around them, either. When it was one of his escorts, however - or anyone from the Capitol, really - he was on his best behavior, turning up the charms and all that.

"Good morning," he said, sipping some milk from a glass.

[capitolprivilege]

No secret at all. The sharp contrast between Dandy as he acted around him and Dandy as he acted around the other Tributes was enough to leave Stephen wary, but for now, Stephen was just grateful that Dandy was cooperative. He'd take it over sullen stubbornness any day.

"Sleep well?" he asks, all casual mild-interest.

[affluenza]

Dandy would have said that there was no need to be wary - he would never hurt a Capitol citizen, although he'd gladly tear a fellow tribute limb from limb in the arena. His duplicity could be a bit unsettling, but in this case he was sincere.

"Of course I did. The beds are lovely here," he says with a big smile, "And how are you doing today?"

A

[molotov]

Between her actual relationship and the fact that they're doing in construction in her room, thanks to Jennifer fulfilling her promise to have an ensuite put in, Molotov doesn't sleep on the sixth floor very often right now. She's up on Ten, in Tom's bed, but she always has to come back down in order to do the basic things like get dressed and ready for the day.

She's just now walking in, still a little mussed, in a short silk robe and a pair of high heels, rubbing at her eye as she heads for the coffee pot.

"Good morning," she answers, only grumbling because it's morning and she's not terribly enthusiastic about doing the back and forth between floors (she'd rather make Tom do that part). "What do you look so happy about?"

[capitolprivilege]

"Because I've got news," he says, looking at her over a sip of his own coffee. "Useful news."

[molotov]

Molotov pours herself a cup of coffee and takes a sip of it, black, before she moves to toss in a little alcohol. She watches him nearly the whole time.

"Useful news is not as nice as good news," she says, frowning thoughtfully, and places her hands on the counter, leaning forward. "What's your news?"

A

[voiceinthephone]

To sleep in the day was nothing new to the night guard. He's done it enough times to warrant a visit or two to the Medical wing for any sort of help he could get to stay asleep during off hours. So he too will reach for freshly made coffee and something else to put in his stomach. Stephen was a nice enough man, he was grateful for the escort's service and availability for questions or anything.

If he seems much more out of it than usual, he had a little extra added to his nightly shot of sleeping aid. He had watched the videos Jennifer had sent up for him...he wasn't quite right after a few Arenas. "Morning, sir."

[capitolprivilege]

"Whoa, who, watch it with the sir," says Stephen, waving a hand. "You'll make me feel ten years older."

He blinks, taking in his Tribute's extra-bad case of the mornings.

"...are you feeling okay? You look seriously out of it."

[voiceinthephone]

"Sorry Stephen," Phil tried to be friend but ended up yawning, "Had a rough time falling asleep as is. I used to be a night shift guard back home, and..." he can still hear the chug-chug-chug of a certain train, "My mornings haven't been pleasant."

Whining aside, Gray stretched and sipped his drink, "What's up? Something happening up on the Capitol?"

A

[atethecanary]

Julian doesn’t really care for any of the people of the Capitol. It doesn’t take a lot for Julian to dislike someone, and seeing as the Capitol people as a whole generally enjoy watching people die, that was more than enough for him treat the majority of them with disdain. But Stephen had at least been nice enough to not make him go to all of those stupid public appearances, probably full of people ready to ask invasive questions, so Julian doesn’t send a glare Stephen’s way like he’s tempted to do.

“Morning,” he grumbles back, sitting on one of the couches to start flipping through the channels on TV. “You’re not one of those weird morning people, are you?” He asks, in reference to grin Stephen has on.

[capitolprivilege]

Stephen laughs. "It happens as you get older," he says, swirling his coffee around. "Even if you don't wind up liking mornings, you get better at dealing with them. You make your peace with seven a.m.," he says mock-gravely, gazing into his cup, "and you learn to show your coffee the gratitude it deserves."

B

[pythianjudgment]

Four in the afternoon is about the time where Terezi starts to feel the most tired. When her sleep schedule is forcibly adjusted to normal daylight hours, that is. If she had her way, she would just be waking up from a very refreshing nap--or better yet a full day's sleep, and ready to go for the night.

Chocolate likewise sounds like the perfect solution for this problem of hers. She doesn't feel like dealing with the Capitol crowds right now, so she opts to go for the less-delicious-but-more-convenient brand of hot chocolate served in the tower. It's just after placing her order that she notices Stephen sitting nearby. Given how much she is secretly grateful to him, it is pretty much impossible for her not to fuck with him at least a little bit.

Quietly, she attempts to position herself behind the unsuspecting Escort--even if that means exiting the shop from one end and running around to a different entrance to get into position. The staff at the coffeshop probably think her crazy.

She creeps up behind him and places her hands over his eyes. "Guess who," she demands, dipping her voice lower just to make it harder for the guessing.

[capitolprivilege]

"Aaah!"

It's not a yell, far from it. It's a very respectable, moderate-volume exclamation of surprise. The hand without the coffee in it flies out wildly -- the one with the coffee retains enough presence of mind to put the cup down.

"Te--Terezi?" Stephen is fairly sure that's her. He's got a good memory for people. But the name isn't a guess, it's a why did you do that?

A

[crabmunicator]

It's not the suites Karkat comes from when he arrives in the common area, but the elevator. He looks tired still, but not in the way of groggy-just-woke-up-don't-bother-me, but in the usual underslept dark circles under his eyes. With curfew gone (and thank goodness for that), he hasn't seen much sense in sticking in D6 more than he has to at night.

He's not in the best of moods lately - not that he's ever cheery - but the combination of quotes twisted out of context, an upcoming arena, and dealing with fans even on regular trips out of the training center are too much not to show in his attitude. How dare Stephen grin at him when the sun is up.

"Morning," he answers back. "Do you need something or what?"

Let the record state: he wants minimal event appearances.

[capitolprivilege]

Noted and logged. All events Karkat has made appearances at have been small, late at night, and with lax politeness rules.

"I need to tell you something, actually," says Stephen. "Today, part of my job is telling you to go back to -- well, to go to bed. You are officially supposed to sleep today."

B

[samson]

Brock has come out of his mopey, post-death cocoon-like routine of nothing but gym, gym, gym some time ago. Which means that he's spending a bit more time out and about, as a general rule, and so he's not very enthused by his own District team telling him that he should maybe get a little more rest than usual probably perhaps. Sleeping all day just does not come naturally to one Brock Samson, so, against Swann's advice, he goes out.

This dude is drinking coffee down in the Commons, and that's not a bad idea, though Brock can tell just by the look of him that he's a Capitolite and therefore is probably drinking something stupid. He goes up to the bar and makes it very clear that he just wants plain, black coffee, much to the barista's wide-eyed confusion.

While she's busy making it (and probably checking a recipe chart, Brock thinks darkly), he turns and leans his back against the bar, elbows propped up, catching the eye of this guy again. He looks familiar, but... "Hey. Do I know you?"

[capitolprivilege]

"Probably," Stephen says with a shrug. "I'm staff, so I'd be surprised if I didn't look a little familiar. Stephen Reagan," he says, standing and holding out a hand -- it'd be rude not to. "Escort for Six. You're Brock Samson, aren't you? Eight?"

B

[conifer]

Emily's at the table opposite, stirring a tall glass of hot chocolate and licking whipped cream from the spoon. Her fingers travel over the patterns in the wood of the tabletop, something she seems quite absorbed with until Stephen flashes a smile. She returns one, although hers is polite and reserved, before glancing at his choice of reading material.

"Anything interesting in there?"

She's already fairly certain there won't be.

[capitolprivilege]

"Not a thing," he says cheerfully. "It's absolute garbage, like every other magazine the Capitol churns out."

The fact doesn't seem to bother him.

A

[dead_black_eyes]

As usual, Linden looks utterly wrecked. This morning, he's up much earlier than usual, because he woke up with a stale mouth and a tongue that felt like sandpaper; it's the only time anyone will see him reaching for water, and he tends to reach fast in these instances. His hangovers have just been getting worse as he closes in on 30, and he looks like death warmed over as he staggers into the kitchen wearing yesterday's clothes, looking for a glass. He promptly gets dizzy and immediately snatches a vase off the counter, tossing the flowers aside and hunching over it.

He glances up, sees Stephen, fights off the urge to dry-heave. "Something's tonight," he says hoarsely. "What's tonight?"

[capitolprivilege]

"Crowning's tonight," Stephen says, fighting the urge to draw a hand over his brow. "Go back to bed, Linden, for the love of god."

A. Sorry, this is the latest.

[tasermaiden]

Darcy barely slept last night. Not because of anything specific, more that she just couldn't manage to actually get her mind to shut off for long enough before 5 AM. So when she finally meanders into the kitchen, she's still in her PJs and beelining for the coffee. Enough that she has a delayed reaction to her escort and doesn't say anything until she has a cup of hella sweet caffeinated goodness in hand.

"Morning," she says, giving him a bleary look before taking a long swig of coffee. "It's still morning, right? I didn't sleep 'til four or anything like that...?"

np np

[capitolprivilege]

Stephen flicks on his phone to check the time. "Nope. Technically, still morning -- barely. You might want to hold off on that coffee, though."

b

[reassures]

Nill and sleep are not things that have agreed with each other for many years by now. She becomes restless far too easily, always thinks she should be on her feet doing something instead, and if that means having dreams she doesn't want less often then it's a bonus. Under normal circumstances this actually is part of the time of day where she might try dozing off, but the escorts and stylists have left her uneasy; she can't decide if the instruction to sleep has more meaning to it then they've told her so far. It's why she's one of the people still wandering instead of getting the extra rest.

She doesn't know Stephen personally, not really, but she's heard about him before even just in passing, seen a picture or two. He's easy enough to spot, and though he likely didn't mean to get any actual company she walks over and offers him a small smile, holding up her notepad.

you're Stephen, right?

[capitolprivilege]

He glances at the notepad, then back up at her. He recognizes her -- how could he not? She stands out.

Stephen nods.

"That's right. Your name is Nill, isn't it?"