[open]

[tucky]

Who| Tiffany Doggett AND YOU
What| A smalltown jailbird arrives in the Capitol and immediately decides that it's the best place ever
Where| Various places; scenarios under cuts
When| Some vague nebulous time after the latest plot; can take place over a few days if needed
Warnings/Notes| If you haven't already, please take a look at her permissions post before tagging her so I know what you are and aren't comfortable with! Other than that, nothing (yet - it's always yet with her)

A: District 1 suite, Part I

If you're going to be unceremoniously pulled from your prison block with no warning and not much explanation, there are definitely worse places you could be landed. This place is insane - everything in it is more lavish and luxurious than anything she's seen in pictures or on TV, let alone in real life. It's at least a couple hours before she even considers leaving her suite - she's too busy trying everything out. She tests out her big, soft bed (which she can't resist bouncing on like a child for a minute or two), she takes a shower followed by a long, hot bath, she raids the fridge, she checks out the view from the deck. If something is available to be examined, turned on, or tried out, she does it.

Honestly, she had kind of glossed over the whole "battle to the death" thing. Forced death matches simply aren't a part of reality as she knows it, and until the idea is shoved in her face a little more, it's just not something she's going to think about at all. As far as she's concerned, this place is heaven. The Capitol has already begun to win her allegiance.

B: The streets of the Capitol

Tiffany finally leaves the Training Center, after being reassured (more than once) that this is her home now and she'll be able to come back whenever she wants. There's nowhere in particular that she's looking to go, but that's fine with her - she'll wander. She's bound to come across something or someone interesting eventually.

C: The Districts shopping center

Handed a credit card and set loose in a city, it's unsurprising that Tiffany finds her way to a mall. Not really one for thinking ahead that much, she immediately starts buying things - clothes mostly, but also earrings, bracelets, and makeup. It's only after an hour or two that she starts wondering if she's going to hit a credit limit, or be dealing with bills later. She looks around for people with similar-looking cards; when she finds someone, she stops them and holds up her own.

"Hey. How much is on this thing?"

D: Various clubs and bars (The Speakeasy, .infinity, Anomaly, The Cave, or Tesserae)

After gussying herself up at the shopping center, Tiffany eventually discovers the Capitol nightlife, and the rest is history. She bounces from place to place, skipping the sit-down restaurants but hitting all the clubs and bars, sometimes more than once. Affiliation means nothing to her at this point; any rebellion-minded talk at places like The Speakeasy mostly just goes over her head. She's shed her prison clothes and dressed herself to the nines (though she still looks pretty tame in comparison to most Capitol fashion), accessorizing with jewelry, shimmery makeup, and lightly-styled hair (nothing too fancy, but infinitely better than the untreated, unbrushed 'do she often sported in prison). She's a little underdressed for the fancier places and a little overdressed for the dive bars, but she doesn't seem to care. She'll have the time of her life - dancing, drinking, and occasionally chatting up men. She's not used to looking good, or feeling good about her appearance. The fact that she does now puts her in an amazing mood.

E: District 1 suite, Part II

Somewhere along the line, someone had slipped her some tapes of past Games - either out of a genuine desire to help, or because they'd pegged her as someone who'd be easily spooked and wanted to psych her out. She should familiarize herself with these, they'd said, because she'd be going into the arena herself soon enough. So later, tired out from her night on the town, she remembers the tapes and pulls them out, flopping down on the common room couch to watch.

And it's... terrifying. She watches intently, leaning forward, eyes wide. It's like a horror movie she can't look away from. She's killed before, and she's threatened, and she's gotten into her fair share of fights - but this is a whole new ball game. Can she really do this? Is she really going to be expected to do this? She doesn't want to die, but looking at the fighting skills of some of these people... there's no way, she thinks, that she would stand a chance.

She'll have to ask someone about it later; someone in charge. They've been helpful so far. Surely they'll continue to be.

Comments

[dead_black_eyes]

"Usually," Linden confirms. "It used to be never, so it's strange to us, too. But by all accounts, most people feel all the pain and fear that comes with dying, and then they're resurrected as they were when they arrived. Same age, minus any scars or evidence that they were hurt at all."

[tucky]

"I think that sounds like some kind of trick. They ain't even dying at all, probably." The use of 'they' instead of 'we' is an unconscious choice, but an important one. She doesn't fully see herself as a Tribute yet.

[dead_black_eyes]

"You're right," he says earnestly. "It absolutely sounds like a trick. Unbelievable. Certainly upsetting. There are a lot of people who don't understand why they couldn't have done this with the old Tributes, the ones that didn't come back. The first time you experience it, you'll understand, perhaps..."

[tucky]

"Maybe I'll win." The chance of that happening is slim to none, but she doesn't fully realize that, either.

[dead_black_eyes]

Linden doesn't react with shock or amusement the way someone else might, hearing the girl's delusionally optimistic statement. No, he really has no place to; though she has no reason to know this yet, he is himself a Victor of the Hunger Games, and the two of them don't look so different. Their vices have left similar scars and tells.

"Maybe you will," he says with a narrow-shouldered shrug. "Many strange things have happened in the Games. Your Mentor can tell you what your best options are for getting Sponsors, but I'm sure you know that already. You have met your Mentor, haven't you?"

[tucky]

"Nope." She doesn't sound too concerned, though. She's only just arrived, and she has very little clue of what mentors are - and how important they are. "How do I find them?"

[dead_black_eyes]

"You're in District 1, so yours is Valerius," he says. "You should be able to find him easily enough, at least around your suite. You should find him," he adds, stressing the word. "No one wins without the help of Mentors."

[tucky]

"Okay. Well, that ain't gonna be hard." Remembering that unusual name, though...

"Valerius? That a first or last name?"

[dead_black_eyes]

"First name," Linden says patiently, bringing a hand up to rub at his horribly bruised eye. "Valerius Tor, if you want the full version. If you ask for 1's Mentor he'll be made aware of it fairly quickly, so... if all else fails, try that."

[tucky]

"Okay. Anything else?"

[dead_black_eyes]

Well, as long as she's willing to just answer questions...

"What did you score?"

[tucky]

She hesitates at that - because she doesn't know much, but she knows enough to have an inkling that her score isn't very good. She tries dodging the question first.

"Why do you wanna know?"

[dead_black_eyes]

"I'll find out when I go back to the Tribute Tower, anyway. The information is public," he explains, also dodging the question.

[tucky]

Oh, well. It had been worth a try. "I got a three."

[dead_black_eyes]

Linden's already wide eyes widen further. He recovers quickly, but the damage is done.

"...I see."

That's probably 1's lowest score to date.

"Do you know what the scale is for scores?"

[tucky]

"No, I don't," she says - a little defensively, though she isn't sure it's because she's annoyed at his reaction or at her own ignorance. Probably both.

[dead_black_eyes]

"So... 12 is the highest score," he says. "And 1 is the lowest."

He doesn't think he needs to be much blunter than that for the message to get through.

[tucky]

"So what?" She gives him a challenging stare. "Scores ain't everything. And I can do better."

[dead_black_eyes]

He meets her stare with his own level, jaded one. It looks even more so with one of his dark eyes bruised and blackened. He's been beaten badly and recently.]

"If you can do better, why didn't you? While they're not the only factor that gets you sponsors, they're probably the biggest one."

[tucky]

"I don't know why I got to tell you these things," she says, still looking a little wounded. "You a sponsor yourself or something?"

[dead_black_eyes]

"Well, you don't have to tell me, but as long as you are..." he says, with a slight shrug. "And no, I'm not a Sponsor, but I do happen to know most of them."

[tucky]

"Well, can you tell them I'll do what they want me to do? I can be a... a real cooperative person."

[dead_black_eyes]

"I'm afraid that would be a conflict of interests. That's your Mentor's job," he says. "To help you would be to let down the Tributes in 6, who rely on me for that very thing."

[tucky]

"Oh." She's disappointed, but not that surprised. "Well, if I told them myself, do you think they'd believe me?"

[dead_black_eyes]

"If you told the Sponsors yourself?" he asks for clarification. "You'll have the opportunity to in interviews, and that's your second best shot at it. The first best is your Mentor."