thecapitol | The Victor is...

The Victor is...

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

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Valeria liked a party with a theme, especially when she was meant to be Styling for her Tributes to attend. It made it easier when she inevitably threw out her first, second, and third attempts for not being original enough. With the deadline looming, she'd finally just grabbed the nearest unfinished designs, turned them into ballgowns or added tights as appropriate, slapped on some electric lights and then, with the spare time, had some fun with the wigs.

Now she was taking a break from watching people admire her work to sneak off to the ladies room, taking the opportunity to straighten up her own outfit, a relatively simple bright pink and orange gown. Presentation was everything.

At some point during the evening, Ariadne managed to get herself off to the ladies' room, where she promptly started to loosen the stays of her dress, her body twisted around just enough for her to be able to watch what she was doing in the mirror. She took up far too much room, but was more than all right with that. As long as she could actually breathe, she'd be much more comfortable.

Her eyes caught a glimpse of Valeria's outfit in the mirrors, and she couldn't help but blink, some mild surprise colouring her expression. But she held her tongue. It could have been worse, she supposed.

Valeria noticed Ariadne's glance, the surprise, and beamed a little. Obviously she was stunning people even with her own, slapdash outfits this evening. "Having a little trouble there, dear?"

The outfit certainly was something, that was true.

"A little bit. Would you mind unlacing this a little?" She gasped quietly, giving one of the laces another tug as best she could. She simply wasn't made to twist her arms around like that.

"Oh, sweetie, sure thing," she said, moving and loosening the corset with practiced ease. In the ladies room standards of appearance could be lowered, at least temporarily. Anyway, Ariadne wasn't one of hers.

"My mother always said that beauty was pain--is that what they told you when they laced you up? How's that?"

"They did. I still don't believe them." Mostly because she didn't really care about beauty the way the Capitol tended to. But she took a deep breath in, and sighed softly, pleased that her lungs were now capable of filling up. "Better. Thanks."

"Good, they were wrong," she said, stepping away. "Beauty is dangerous, that's what my mother always said. Much better motto, in my opinion."

Ariadne cast a glance back over her shoulder, giving Valeria a curious once-over before smiling a little bit. Just the faintest twitch of the expression at the corners of her mouth. "I think it's definitely more accurate."

"Especially when it comes to you Tributes," Valeria pointed out. She could tell a Tribute from a Citizen with ease, of course, but she didn't pay nearly enough attention to those outside her District to know a Victor by sight. "Not that it doesn't apply to everyone else," she added, patting her platinum blonde and pink wig smugly.

A small smile. She didn't think it would be all that hard to tell the difference between a Tribute and a citizen, and she wasn't that inclined towards correcting her. It didn't make that much of a difference anyway. "Right," Ariadne started, thinking after a split second's decision that there might be a way she could get an in if she endeared herself to another Stylist. "Your work is beautiful, by the way. Danger aside."

Valeria fairly glowed and straightened unconsciously. "Oh, well, I am aware, of course, but it's always nice to hear. You know, I've been so busy lately I've barely had the time to see how my work has been received?" Of course, for that, she made time.

"It happens. Especially with Crowning Ceremonies, and the upcoming Arena. You must be spending a lot more of that time focusing on your work." She paused, tipping her head to one side, briefly fixing her hair with a spare pin. "Does it get boring during the Arenas? What with not having any Tributes around?"

"Oh, I do, I really do," she said, nodding fervently. "And you might think that, but really, even if one of the more pathetic ones like dear Eponine doesn't die at the Cornucopia or something right away, we use that time to catch up on backlog, maybe do some mingling if the Escorts want us to drum up Sponsors, that sort of thing."

"I guess you would have time for something like that. More of a life, instead of focusing on other people completely," Ariadne mused, looking at herself in the mirror briefly, making sure that she didn't look too bad. Not out of vanity, but because otherwise she couldn't expect to not be bombarded by her Stylists. And that was just begging for her dress to get laced back up tighter.

"Ha," she said, just the barest hint of bitterness in her voice. "A life, that's a funny thought. This is the closest to a life I have these days, and it's half work anyway, keeping an eye on my Tributes. I love my job, but I do rather miss vacation days. The year long grace period was nice too."

"I've heard that." And she could understand it. Everything must have changed just as drastically as it had for the Tributes who had been dragged in. Though it still bothered her a bit that the Capitol was working these people to the bone.

"That's right, you wouldn't know anything about what it was like before, not really," she said. "That's so strange to think about, growing up without the Games, at all. What did you all do with your time?"

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After an hour or so, Eponine wandered into the toilets, seeking solace from staring eyes. Because people WERE staring. She was basically a walking chandelier. And maybe - just maybe, she could take off that ridiculously heavy wig, with its ropes of lights, for just a few minutes.

Except the plan was thwarted when Eponine realised that Valeria was in there. She smiled guiltily and curtseyed.

"Madame, you look... beautiful?"

Did she? Eponine wasn't a fan of this fashion, but it was clearly Valeria's intention to look good. And Eponine wanted to indulge her stylist.

"I know," agreed Valeria, patting her multi-colored wig gently. She beamed at Eponine in the mirror. "And you, of course, look fabulous, but that's just a much a compliment to me as too you, isn't it?"

"Well..." Eponine paused, clutching her wig. "Well, I do not look like me... it is your costume. Only..." She tugged as well at the laces between her breasts. "I wish there was more material here. And it is all very heavy with the lights, Madame."

"That's the mark of the best kind of Stylist," she said, turning to gently at Eponine's hands. "Careful, there, it was a rush job, too much stress and it may well fall apart on you. Hm." She looked at Eponine for a moment and felt an uncharacteristic pang of pity. "Next time I'll see about making it not so heavy. Don't want you falling over when the party's barely started."

"Then you, Madame, are the very best."

She moved her hands away quickly, alarmed. "Fall apart? Will it? Madame, I do not want these people to see my breasts - again. I would be arrested as a whore."

She smiled, though. "Will you come and dance at the party? This is my first - I do not know what to do... it would be nice, you know... Will you?"

"I know," said Valeria because it was expected, but she smiled to herself nonetheless.

"Oh, calm down dear, I'm just joking, it'll hold up fine." Probably. "And you're still not used to the Capitol, are you? With the right wardrobe malfunction you'll find yourself with more Sponsors than you know what to do with."

Valeria blinked at her, then straightened, feeling strangely pleased. "Of course. I didn't realize this was your first, you should have told me!" More likely, she had and Valeria had forgotten. "This is far, far from my first, you just follow my lead, sweetie."

Joking? Oh... Eponine smiled.

"I do not care about the Capitol though, you know, Madame? About getting sponsors. They will not sponsor me if you sent me without any clothes. My score is too low. In France, to expose your body even like this is the mark of a whore."

Eponine had told her - but mixed in with her other nonesensical chatter, it was easily overlooked. "Balls in Paris are only for the rich, Madame. Not people who will die. I always wanted to go though. And learn the dance - thank you, Madame Valeria."

"If you're serious about winning you'll need to start caring about Sponsors, girl," she scolded lightly. "And just look at who this party is for. I don't know what her score was, but if she could win, you have a chance, especially with me on your side."

She held out an arm for Eponine to loop her own through, returning the smile with a wink. "That's what the Capitol is about. Fulfilling dreams. You've just got to work for it." Not that Valeria had experience in that respect, having gotten to her current position by pulling strings and familial connection. "If you don't even know the dance, I guess I'll be leading. Just follow me, my dear, and I'll teach you everything you need to know."

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