The Victor is...

[gamemakers]

Who| EVERYONE. IC participation is mandatory (OOC is not, you may handwave)
What| Momoko's victory crowning
Where| The ball room
When| The Wednesday before the next arena.
Warnings/Notes| None atm.

The party was styled for Momoko.

The tables were covered in lace, delicate dishes and silverware, flowers that fell from vases covered in Victorian paintings. It was the most extravagant tea party to ever be thrown, with tiny, thin china cups and a too many tiny little finger foods being passed around to count. The ballroom has been styled in extravagant Baroque, as the Capitol was fairly liberal with their adaption of historical time periods.

The costumes were just as liberally chosen, from tall, powdered wigs holding birdcages with live birds, clearly hailing in the style of Marie Antoinette to regency gowns gathered under daringly (and occasionally outright) exposed busts to tight corsets and the skeletons of skirts exposed and decorated. A quarter played live music at one end of the room, before a wide dance floor.

At the head of the room there was a long table with a throne for Momoko, as elaborate as anything else in the room. And along the long table, group close to those who they seemed to enjoy, was a place for many of the Tributes, with a small place card that said "Special guest of The Capitol." This table was fed first, received drinks first, and was clearly favored.

Any Tributes not seated at the long table with their peers were dispersed among the the smaller table spread about the room, left to rub elbows with the guests invited from the Capitol, and the reporters covering the event. Security was, if anything, tighter than the last crowning.

These people have seats a the big kids table. You guys are free to decide who sits by who (And if three people sit by one person, don't worry too much about it) but they are, when possible set by their friends:

Atticus Bell
Draco Malfoy
Chibi-Usa
Dr. Grey
Adel
Tony Stark
Howard Bassem
Javert Neeshka
Vanessa Carlysle
Lindsey McDonald
R
Albert Wesker
K
Alpha
Diana
Katurian
Aunamee
Maximus
Blaine Anderson
Alex Rider
Glinda
Gaila
Parker
John Watson
Lottie LaBouff

Comments

DANCE FLOOR

[gamemakers]

[mediumdrip]

Music. Blaine went to the floor as soon as he could. He didn't know the Capitol dances so he looked around for a citizen to help teach him the dance steps.

He wondered if he'd ever get the chance to be on stage here.

[pinklady]

Oh. hey, a...waltz-like thing. Chibi-Usa quietly took her shoes off and waddled towards the ballroom floor, knowing that someone was probably going to ask her to dance...

...Only to see a very confused-looking fellow Tribute. Well. Why not.

She cleared her throat.

[mediumdrip]

Blaine looked over at her and smiled a bit. "Do you know the dance steps?" he asked curiously.

[pinklady]

"I do." Chibi-Usa nodded, her hairstyle bobbing with it uuuugh. "This is a waltz. Its a bit complicated."

[battroll]

Bruce felt ridiculous enough, dripping with lace, in heavy fabric that was literally stiff with embroidery, a half cape trailing on the ground behind him. It was harder to move freely than it was wearing 30 pounds of body armor, even if it felt almost as heavy. At this point, he wasn't sure if he'd look better or worse if managed to lose the wig, but it at least had one bonus. People were much less likely to recognize him. Besides, it wasn't the first ridiculous outfit he'd worn - even before being brought to this place - and given the fashion here, was certainly not going to be the last.

At least he wasn't the only one who looked ridiculous - and there was comfort in that. And, ridiculous as the shoes were (white, with bows on their toes and small heels), they were reasonably comfortable. Some of the shoes he'd seen couldn't possibly claim even that.

Those who were liked here had more influence, that was something he'd noticed even this soon, and Bruce was good at being charming. The dance floor seemed as good a place for that as any, and so he excused himself from his company and set off for it.

[lassoftruthiness]

Diana had known Bruce was in the city for a few days now. She'd looked over the list of Tributes, lips thinning at the confirmation that yes, children were expected to fight and die in the Arena, and found him. On the list, that is, he'd proved frustratingly difficult to pin down in the city itself. Part of the reason she'd gone along with this whole party was to finally connect with him.

And her was her chance. "Bruce!" she called, beaming, one hand waving, the other holding up her skirts. "Bruce Wayne, hello!" She had to be careful. Unlike Diana, Bruce had much to lose should his identity be revealed. She could only assume that's why he hadn't sought her out before now, unless they simply kept missing each other.

[battroll]

So much for being harder to recognize.

Bruce was very used to people knowing him, it was something that came with the territory - though this woman's manner seemed different, as though she expected him to know her in return. Although that still happened, it didn't happen as often. Of course, even when it did...

Bruce smiled charmingly as he turned to face her, and executed an elegant little half-bow that fit the costumes well - partially because Bruce had been given a part to play, and was nothing if not good at playing parts.

"Have we met, Ms...?" His voice was as charming as the smile, smooth and rich.

[lassoftruthiness]

"It's Ms--" Prince, she started to say, automatically, before she decided it was more likely for Bruce Wayne to have met Princess Diana of Themyscira than Diana Prince, Agent of the DMA. "Diana, just Diana. Princess of Themyscira, surely you remember me?" She flashed him a smile, not bothering to look coy (he'd mock her for it later, if she tried, or pointedly not mock her for it, more likely). Flirty, she could do, however.

"Of all the people I expected to meet here--not that I really had anyone in mind--you, Mr. Wayne, were not high on the list." She couldn't stop her flirty, hello-random-acquaintance grin from deepening into a more sincere smile. "I think I'm glad of it, however."

Re: DANCE FLOOR

[freebitchbaby]

If you could say one thing for Gaila it was that she tried to take everything in her stride.

And when there was music there was little more that she could do but get up on the floor and dance. She could grab the closest person to her each time and force them to dance with her; some were more willing than others. Her stylists had been over the moon that she'd wanted as much input as possible and as little fabric as possible. The effect was something special and with her curls tumbling down from the elaborate buns in her hair she felt almost like her old self, even without the pheromones.

She was wildly misbehaving as usual.

I'm really sorry for this. Sig needs to stop creeping on your muses

[futilecycle]

Sigma scanned the ball from the sidelines, observing each Tribute's activities carefully. He felt deeply sorry for Howard, seated directly in between two of his greatest enemies, and looked away from the main table to avoid secondhand discomfort. In doing so he noticed the Capitol had brought in a few new Tributes since the Arena's conclusion.

On the dance floor was one Tribute he had never seen before, and hadn't had a chance to study. Sigma watched the dancer perhaps more carefully than necessary- he'd always liked redheads, and she was certainly beautiful. He quickly reminded himself he was no longer a young man, and turned away with a faint blush on his cheeks. His age often slipped his mind, his youth had been wasted in isolation. A pity men must age.

Despite her... interesting complexion, she seemed the most ordinary one here, just a funloving woman enjoying a ball. The atmosphere otherwise set him on edge - Sigma felt as though outside of the Arena most Tributes shook on deals with one hand while holding a knife under the table with the other. Though he'd once been a friendly person, he did not enjoy their company. How, then, could she be so carefree?

The Doctor allowed himself to look again at the woman, imagining a weapon in her hands to tarnish her image. Sigma sighed. Though he had sworn to protect Kyle, he knew it would be difficult for him to kill a lady. He dearly hoped her personality wasn't as lovely as she appeared.

Hahaha, it's fine, Gaila invites creeping always

[freebitchbaby]

For all her other many various (and some illegal) talents Gaila loved dancing the most. She had been a dancer on Orion and a celebrated one at that. And while she was more famed for her talents as a slavegirl none of the things that came along with that required the dedication of dancing. Dancing was just joyous. She’d always thought it contradictory to the nature of slavegirls that they were encouraged to dance. There was a freedom that came with it that couldn’t be found in anything else.

It was merely a fortunate thing that she hadn’t taken to dancing the tradition Orion way as of yet which would mandate even less clothing and ever so much more attention grabbing. If one thing could be said for the Orion race it was that they weren’t shrinking violets. Which made them great fun at parties if not mildly disruptive.

Gaila’s latest dance partner begged off the next dance claiming fatigue and she found herself looking about for the next person to inflict her new tender loving horrors of dancing upon. She caught a look of Sigma watching her – she always had been perceptive to people’s gazes – and graced him with a wide toothy smile before making beeline for him. “It’s far more fun if you join in y’know.” She commented cheerfully, Valley Girl accent surprising against the green skin.

sorry I'm late :c

[futilecycle]

Sigma panicked as he saw Gaila coming towards him, looking quickly around for an escape route. He had thought he was being discreet with his observation. What was that cryptic smile? Was she angry? He wanted to avoid as much confrontation as he could in the weeks leading up to the Arena.

What she said when she arrived startled him even more. The Doctor shook his head violently. "I-I don't dance!" Sigma stammered. At least, he didn't dance anymore and certainly not with beautiful girls less than half his age. He gaped at her in disbelief, for one foolish second wondering if she hadn't noticed how old he was. His eyes shot towards the head table in the distance, hoping Kyle wasn't watching this unfold.

[mudbloodhater]

Cinna had done well with Draco's outfits - with everyone in District 12's outfits, really - making him fit the period but still remain comfortable. He felt nothing short of dapper, dressed to the nines in emerald green and silver, in a waistcoat and tails and cravat. So now, he's lingering at the side of the dance floor, waiting for someone to join him for a dance.

[hi_there_aliens]

Stylists seemed to have a signature to them, just like any artist, and as Daniel toured the room, studying sponsors and tributes alike, it was becoming easier to pick out which District each Tribute belonged to. His stylists certainly had every right to feel some jealousy for Cinna's work; his work was excellent, pushing boundaries at times with a surprising elegance or having a flare to it that wasn't gaudy at all.

Take this guy here, waiting for a dance. The name came to him again; Draco Malfoy, the one who'd applied to get out of the Games), who had some of the most platinum hair (almost white, Daniel thought) he had ever seen, looked - in a word - stylish. In four words, dressed-to-kill stylish.

Daniel nursed the wine that his escort had pushed into his hands as he stood watching the other dancers. "Cinna's work, I take it?"

[mudbloodhater]

Doubtless, Draco would have preened to hear that he could be described as 'dressed-to-kill'. It was the ultimate flattery in a place like this (or really anywhere). So though awaiting the results of his application was hell on his psyche, he seemed to be in a good enough mood for now.

Glancing over when he was greeted, Draco cracked a bit of a smirk - just in case Daniel was still judging him, and perhaps because he hadn't been too bad, as things went - and nodded. "Naturally. He likes to make sure we all look decent, if he can help it."

[hi_there_aliens]

Color Daniel the slightest bit envious. Cinna's style was elegance and bold mixed together, and he did it in a way that seemed natural. Draco didn't look garish at all.

Daniel took a sip of his wine, just a little taste. It was surprisingly smooth, and not too sour or too sweet, and with a pleasant burn. "Well, if what I've seen of his work is anything to go by, you're all in good hands." Daniel then nodded to the Victor. "I have to say, she's not what I expected."

[cowardfacinghappiness]

When Momoko imagined spending her days in the full length dresses of Roccocco, the daydreams hadn't involved much walking. As much as it felt like a betrayal, she definitely preferred the shorter Lolita style.

But for a night, especially for a night like this, she could put up with it, even if it took her a good five minutes to make it to the edge of the dance floor without risking a fall flat on her face.

"Draco," she said when had her breath back. As an afterthought she yanked on the top of her dress a little, discreetly, trying to cover up her chest a little more. "Enjoying the party?"

[mudbloodhater]

He couldn't help the way his eyes flicked downwards - due to her movement, of course, and certainly not because he was eager to stare at her chest - though he salvaged it quickly by giving her dress an appreciative once-over. Draco didn't at all envy her for having to wander around in that thing; he'd have tripped and fallen more times over than he could count. Thank Merlin he wasn't a girl.

"I am," he greeted, shooting her a grin before fluttering a hand around. "It's fitting, don't you think? All of this. How're you finding it?"

[cowardfacinghappiness]

"Very," Momoko agreed with a wide grin. "It's perfect, I could almost believe I really am in Rococo." She lifted her skirts and spread them out. "It makes more sense that the women sat around all the time doing embroidery or making love or whatever, if they had to wear these all the time." Momoko, of course, was far more interested embroidery than sex.

[drpsychosomatic]

John shifted, the heavy gold braiding on his shoulders still feeling as alien as the minute they'd first been attached there, along with the broad red sash. It was true that he'd been to a few formals in his time, and he'd learnt how to dance back when wearing a uniform had been one of many weapons in his arsenal when it came to attracting women. He also liked to think he hadn't lost all his charm now that his hair was a little more ash than sand, and in a bizarre way, for all its ridiculous resemblance to something that belonged on a prince from a cartoon, the costume they'd dressed him in with its crisp, military-inspired lines, made him feel more rather than less confident in his appearance. He still felt stiff as hell, and the advice of his mentor still rang in his ears, but it was surprisingly easy to pretend that asking one of the outrageously costumed women to dance had been his idea all along.

He stood on the sidelines for a moment, watching people watch the dancing, until he noticed an elaborately dressed woman in a dress that wouldn't have looked out of place on Marie Antoinette. It wasn't the costume that caught his eye, though, or the enormous hairpiece that he was sure must be uncomfortable to wear. He might have been mistaken, but she looked almost a little wistful, from where he was standing at least.
Making his mind up, he steeled himself, crossed the floor towards her and offered her a polite smile that was perhaps a little tight at the corners, but warm all the same.

"Pardon me," he said, his voice just low enough that only the two of them would hear. "Would you care to dance?"

[mannersmatter]

Effie turned at the voice, to see one of the new Tribute standing there. She was quick to smile, nodding her head. Although his file had showed up in her queue recently, she hadn't had time to go over it, but the face was familiar enough.

And the outfit he had been dressed in suited him well.

She smiled an offered out her hand.

"I would love to."

[drpsychosomatic]

He didn't have to force a smile as he took her hand, feeling quite bolstered by her acceptance of his offer.
"I'll do my best not to step on your toes- I'm hoping dance hasn't changed that much from home, but maybe you might help me learn something you're more used to," he offered amicably. "I'm John Watson, district seven- though I've never been there."

[mannersmatter]

"Effie Trinket. I'm the escort for District 12." She stepped into his arms, falling easily into the rhythmic sway of the dance. "It's a pity none of you can see the District you represent, it's an experience."

She hated going to the district, actually, but for the same reason she thought the Tribute would benefit. It was powerful, emotional.

[x5452]

Fucking insulting.

It's not so much that Max is letting Panem get to her head, but really, being regulated to the kiddy tables when she's a victor irritates her no end.

So rather than sit down properly, she loiters by the dance floor, a drink in hand. Maybe she'll dance. Maybe she'll stick to the side and booze it up.