thecapitol | Evacuate the Dancefloor

Entry tags:

Evacuate the Dancefloor

Who| Cassian and YOU.
What| The new D7 stylist is here putting his grubby hands all over everything,
Where| Various places in the Tower
When| The first week of the arena.
Warnings/Notes| Hamming it up?

Entrance

This was it. He didn't blame them for wanting to have him enter after the arena started--Let the old stylist go out with a bang and a last hurrah, getting to make the costumes for the current arena. But now that was over, and the old was out, and the new was most certainly here and in charge now. He took a deep breath, and pulled out his phone, pulling up an appropriate song for his entry into his new job. After all, first impressions were everything, and he intended to leave the best one that anyone had ever seen.

As soon as the song started (sounding suspiciously familiar), he threw open the doors, striking a long practiced pose, one hand leaning against the door, hip sticking out as he surveyed the lobby, then started in, hips swinging with the music, heels pounding rhythmically on the floor. It was perfect in a way that could have only been achieved with a great deal of practice--And it was. He had practiced for a week, and everyone in his household was utterly sick of him and his stupid music.

He stopped right in the middle of the lobby, hand artistically placed on his hip as he looked around, lips slightly parted, eyes lidded. This, it could be assumed, was also practiced. Right at the perfect part of the music, he would start again, sashaying off to the elevators.

It didn't matter who had seen him. It didn't matter if no one had. He knew that he had made the perfect entrance.

...Besides, they recorded everything here, right? Maybe he could bum the videos off the people in charge.

District 7 Suite

Anyone who had died early, worked in the district 7, or was just hanging out there for whatever reason would discover that Cassian was pretty much instantly making himself comfortable. And by comfortable, he was blasting even more music, and theatrically dancing around the suite, swinging around like he owned the place.

If that wasn't quite enough, in between singing the lyrics and swinging his head around, he appeared to be redecorating. Luckily, this was aided by avoxes, who seemed to be doing to bulk of any actual work, while Cassian pointed at different pieces of art and decor, moving some around, having some whisked off, and new pieces brought in. The change would be instantly obvious. For some reason, the new stylist seemed to take a liking to strange pictures of whales and dolphins flying through neon colored starry skies.

"Yes, perfect, no--NOOO." He managed in between spinning around to the music, gesturing enthusiastically to get the avoxes to get the picture just right, it has to go right under that light, or it throws off the balance. Once balance is realigned, he goes back to dancing and spinning around the suite. It's a little more chaotic, less practiced and just going with the beat than the movements in the lobby. This place is mostly empty, after all, right? Who cares about a little butt wiggling.

The Roof

Not even the roof was safe from his music, though this was a lot calmer. Here, he wasn't trying to show off. He was still perfectly poised, wearing that mask of perfection and confidence, because anyone could stumble up here, and he had a presentation to give. Being a Capitolite was like being stuck in a constant TV show, and you had to be ready to put on your acting face.

Of course, it was night, because who the fuck would play this during the day. But he still enjoyed the quiet--What passed for quiet for Cassian, at least. Despite the beating of the music, it was peaceful, at least. He spun around, humming thoughtfully as he twirled. The stars were beautiful tonight, and his hands reached up for them, as though he could touch them if he only stretched tall enough.

This was what he wanted, wasn't it? This feeling of being on top of the world. It felt almost literal here, on top of the tallest building in the city. And he belonged here. He had done it, he had worked his ass off, and it had finally paid off. And looked up at the stars, he had to remind himself, look at it. Even this building wasn't the tallest thing. Look at those stars. He hasn't peaked yet, he has so much further to go.

Not until he's eclipsed even the stars.

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"I am!" He all but purred to Leonidas, a pleased grin lighting up his face. Even if he couldn't tell who Cassian was, at least he seemed to be able to tell--no doubt through Cassian's impeccable taste--that he was one of the new stylists. That was a step in the right direction. Soon, he'd become famous enough that people would recognize him on sight. It was just a matter of time, and hard work. Once he got his clothes on his tributes, and let the world see them--Why, there was the crowning to look forward to, after all. It would be incredible.

Cassian held out his hand, less like a handshake, and more like he expected it to be kissed--though it was still perfectly possible to shake it like a normal person.

"Cassian Bouchard. It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm so pleased to get to meet a member of my fellow staff. What District are you assigned to...?" An escort, Cassian would guess, though he didn't recognize the name. He was pretty sure he knew all the staffers, maybe he was new, like Cass?

Leo shook his head, "I'm the coach for District 2, and currently helping out the Escort there." Why that is, the Districter would rather not discuss lest Cassian wishes to see him murder the punching bag. With a spear. It wasn't an easy transition, okay? All Calendius' eloping and Cyrus' offworlder legislation did was further cement in Cora's mind that, in 80% of the time, Capitolites were bastard-coated bastards with bastard filling.

Not like he was a saint either.

"I'm a District transfer, by the by." Surprise, Bouchard, that hand you're currently holding out to, and Leo's pecking (hey he was used to the likes of Holly and Lady Cerise) isn't from the Capitol.

"Oh, you're a coach...?" So, not an escort, nor even a mentor. But Cassian didn't let his face change when he realized this. That would be rude, and he wasn't about to let anyone get the impression that he was anything but utterly charming. He does smile when the man gives his hand a kiss, though. A satisfied type of smile, that this man may be some districter, but at least he seems to be willing to give respect where it's due. And that makes him better than most districters.

"Oh, that's a delight! I love getting to meet people from the districts, they always have such a fascinating perspective on things," He trilled, grinning fondly at Leo. "And coming all the way here to help with the Games! That's so nice of you, honestly, I'm sure District 2 is so pleased by all this show of support. Almost makes me jealous." At that, he fluttered his eyelashes (long, and fake, and colored to match his outrageously teal hair) at Leo.

"Well, maybe some day my district will get someone...like you to help me out. I could think of all kinds of things I'd need help for." Flutter flutter.

"Anything to aid my District," Leo spoke with a sense of pride that rivaled that of a Capitolite to their government. There was a genuine love for his home, and a drive to sacrifice everything to ensure that District 2 is on its' way to becoming the favored one again.

"So Mr. Bouchard," the man sidesteps, giving Cassian a flirty lookover (hey, it worked on nonstaff socialites), "What District were you assigned? Who will be enjoying the fruits of your labor?"

Somehow Cora knew this wasn't for District 2, far too fresh faced.

His lips curl up in a warm smile that's more genuine than before, looking quite pleased. A districter who liked to play these games, too? Shit, maybe he'd chosen the wrong district after all. He supposed that it made sense that any of the districters who got sent here would have some kind of sense about them. Enough to play one of Cassian's favorite games.

"Oh, please, call me Cassian, Mr...?" He didn't like going by his last name, or mister, or basically any combination involving those two. Instead, he fluttered his eyelashes at Leo, drinking in the look the coach shot at him. "I'm working in District 7, for now. It seemed like they needed a little...fresh blood, new look, the most. Judging from you, your district doesn't seem to be hurting too badly from a need for a fresh style." One hand propped on his hip, he tilted his head (in a way that was clearly practiced to give his best angle).

"Cora, and I see..." there's a barely held back laugh, "Oh you have my sympathies. Emily Finch is a competent Mentor but I will assure you, you won't have a dull day with Jason Compson as your Escort."

Definitely fresh faced and off the catwalk but Leo keeps that all to himself, there's no need to put even more pressure considering where Cassian was headed. "I might be borrowing your stylistic knowledge from time to time, District 2 is always looking for creative inputs."

The game's on.

"It's lovely to meet you, Cora." He all but purred it, a coy smile flitting across his face. "But yes--I know about Jason Compson, don't worry. It's a little startling, but...I think it'll be an adventure." He glanced around, and leaned in, as though about to reveal a tidbit of juicy gossip. "I wouldn't be helping with the Games if I didn't like to witness a bit of...excitement." He shot Leo a wink, before pulling away.

"Well, I don't know. I'm supposed to be helping district 7, but..." He tapped his chin, batting his eyelashes at the man. "I suppose it couldn't hurt. I certainly wouldn't mind being...borrowed. I'm sure you can figure out some incentive." That's a lie, he'll spout out fashion ideas as soon as look at you. Just set him down with some paper.

"Do the rules say anything about cooperation between Staff members? Jason's bitching aside," Leo knows that lean in and he's getting a feel of who Cassian is. Excitement? Oh, there's plenty of that, he would find out.

"What would you say to a night about town in exchange for a few ideas for the Tributes already here?" Cora wasn't above playing the field if it meant he could have a Stylist he could bounce off ideas. Was it against the rules? No, but it was bending them. "Have you been to the suites?"

"Oh, Jason. I'm sure he wouldn't mind me dedicating a little free time to helping out our coworkers. It's good for morale as a whole, I think. Having us all working together. A little...give and take." He stroked his chin at that last bit, a smirk on carefully painted lips. What he did on his own time couldn't hurt, right? And what Jason didn't know...wouldn't get Cassian scolded.

"I would love to, Cora." He shot a quick wink, but to show that he wasn't all fun and no work, he pulled a notepad out of his pocket, and starts flipping through to a fresh page. "District 2...which ones are you looking for advice for? As for the suites--Ah, no. Not yet. But I've already got some decorations I picked out to make the place get livened up a little. Out with the old, in with the new." Cassian was never one to care about bending the rules--Minor things, really, that surely no one cared about enforcing.

His life was a series of getting away with things, because he was rich and his uncle was well known and he was young and pretty.

"But I'll see if I can whip up some ideas for our...night out."

Leo immediately put his hand on Cassian's notebook, with a face that was both skeptical and amused, "Again, you have not seen the news, you might want to be a bit more covert than what you're being right now. I've worked with Jason for the last couple of months and trust me, he will find out one way or the other."

As much fun as it was to add to the migraines, Cass was still fresh-faced, he had yet to deal with the classic Compson rage the man was known for. "We should leave discussions of the sort for say, a night at the Lux, get a proper VIP seat and all that."

Hey, the invitation was purely professional, even with the quirked eyebrow on Cora's face.

"Covert..." He repeated, slowly nodding. It wouldn't be the first time he did covert sneaking around with other men. At least this time, they were sneaking under Jason's gaze, and not someone's wife. The notebook lowered, and slowly disappeared into the pack that it had come out from. Well, then. He was going to have to do all of this in his head. Or on his phone. Which was far more likely, at least for keeping notes.

District 2...that was masonry. Hmm...

"Ooh, the Lux?" He can roll with it, and of course this was strictly professional. Probably. Not that much things Cassian did were professional, but if it helped, he really was already whirring away as he thought of things that they could use.

"Alright, you talked me into it. Mum's the word, until we can meet in a more...appropriate setting." It couldn't really hurt, could it? Giving a little bit of help. Encouraging cooperation amongst the staff here, that's what he was doing. The better they all got along, the more like a well oiled machine they would work.

Not that Cassian had much knowledge of making machines work, either.

This one was going to be an interesting little experiment, Leo's mind was also making machinations. He wasn't as dishonorable to actively bring down the competition by sabotage. Oh no, incompetence would do that just fine. But as much as they could bicker or make shots at their lineage (and there was plenty to aim at), Cora recognized Jason was at least competent.

"Then it's a date."

Four words that Leonidas was already scheming: if he could get a Stylist for District 2, well, hats off to them. "I hope I'm not keeping you from your Tributes."

"I look forward to it." He fluttered his eyelashes again, a smile playing on his lips. He didn't want to hurt anyone, but...Well. Cassian wanted attention, he wanted positive attention and compliments and all kinds of things, and he wasn't afraid to be a little covert in order to get them. It wasn't like Jason was coughing up any of that.

"My tributes? Oh, no. Fortunately, they've all seemed to survive, so far. Save one, but...He hasn't popped up yet." A small frown. Nick had seemed like the best chance for District 7 to win, and now he was gone. Cassian hadn't exactly been pumped about dressing him up--He was old, and suits seemed to be his thing. And suits were boring. But still...
A win would be nice.

"Right now, I'm just keeping an eye on them, sketching up designs. Nothing solid until we get a Victor, but it's good to have a base that I can work from. Even if I have to go with something wildly different, having outfits for other possible occasions can't hurt." He may be a bit vapid, but he was determined to work hard for this job.

Leo may not have a style like Cassian, but he listens with a little bit of pride towards the newbie. It's with that sort of thinking that he says, "You see? You already act and talk like a pro, as if you've been here as long as the others." Hard work was always a good way to get Cora's attention, even if the young man before him was part of the competition, "You're going to be fine." No aggrandizing, no pompous display, just the simple assurance he would give his cadets before their selection process.

Spotting a nearby clock, the coach held out his hand, "I'm headed over to a Sponsor luncheon, but here's hoping the Lux will be a little more exciting."

Cassian accepted Leo's hand and shook it, beaming at the praise. "Oh, thank you so much! I'm certainly eager to do my best here and make a good impression." He was nearly bouncing with excitement, filled with optimism and an eagerness to make a good impression. This was a job that was going to make or break his social standing--If he failed, it was going to be incredibly embarrassing. But he could also use this as a springboard to truly becoming Somebody.

"Oh, I'll make sure it is." He assured Leo in turn, grinning. "You have fun, now. I'll see you whenever you get around to getting some time, yes? It'll be lovely."

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Evacuate the Dancefloor

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