thecapitol | Oh, this is the night and the heavens are right on this lovely Bella Notte

Who| Everyone who signed up for blind dating!
What| An evening of romance, or disaster, take your pick.
Where| The Swift Cut restaurant
When| 16th June
Warnings/Notes| The course of true love never did run smooth. Remember that if your character was not rolled in arena but you signed up for them to be here, you will need to mark their death on fatality reporting.

The atmosphere at the Swift Cut this evening is bustling. It's clear from the moment one enters the restaurant that they have pulled all the stops out for this televised extravaganza.

Every fire is lit and the air is filled with the scent of the roasting meat on spits over the flames; boar, beef, pork, venison and more. Pots bubble with the smell of hot stew, vegetables are being roasted in ovens and from giant casks around the room beer is being drawn. The staff are in full 'barbarian' getup, consisting of skimpy furs on both the male and the female servers but luckily for you they don't seem to expect a similar dress code from their guests.

Tribute's stylists may have had other ideas, of course.

The giant room has been clearly divided. Tribute's will find themselves directed to one side while trueborn citizens of Panem and petitioned out individuals are brought to the other. It is left up to them to find their table with the number they will be handed upon entering the restaurant. Whether they are the first to arrive at their table is a matter of chance but they can be sure that a cameraman will always be there to capture the moment of realisation on both participants faces when they realise who their date is.

Once everyone is seated the music will begin the play. Minstrels strum lutes and harps, their voices filling the air softly with traditional medieval ballads. There is a space set aside for dancing if anyone is in the mood.

Throughout the evening, and certainly at the end, Tribute's and Capitolites will find themselves sporadically approached by the show host to be asked questions about how they feel the evening is going. It's up to them how honestly they answer, though they should remember the camera's are always watching.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"You think so?" Bull turns toward her with his drink in hand, his good eye glancing down at the decorations on her arms. "I could do without the cape. Imagine if we were in one of their little arenas right now. I wouldn't stand a chance."

Says an eight foot tall horned ox-man who appears made of broad bone and thick muscle, who could probably throw decent sized boulders at anyone if he chose to.

She shows her teeth in a smile, nearly laughing at the comment. "I would imagine that's rarely a position you're in. I don't believe I've met anyone of your--truly impressive, I might add--size before."

"I imagine you never tended to wear capes at home either, then? A shame, they're a lovely fashion statement."

"Give me a pair of pants and a nice, tight--but not too tight--shoulder harness over the cape any day, that will do just fine."

Bull tips his head in her direction. "Most humans I've been around, they're mostly the same - small." But she's a pretty one. "Who'd you end up with for your date?"

"It sounds like you have lovely fashion sense." And there's not a hint of sarcasm in that. Who doesn't like harnesses?

"Quintus. I think it's good he's taking a break, even if this may not be his idea of fun." She tries to keep her reply cautious; she likes the guy, but she knows many Tributes don't. "And yours? Anyone interesting?"

"Hah!" the Qunari barks out in a booming laugh. "Try telling that to my pal, Dorian. He'd fight you on that one."

Bull's circus-themed pants, yeah. Dorian had plenty to say about them.

"Quintus. Name's familiar." He's the man who had tried to help Shepard on the rooftop after she'd had one too many to drink, drowning her sorrows and making a bit of a scene by throwing glass bottles at the barrier. "Jane. She's got some spunk to her for someone so tiny."

She doesn't believe Quintus needs any introduction, but she nods her head and offers some anyway. Even as her tone is light and nonchalant, her eyes are carefully watching for any reaction. "The Peacekeeper. He's a rather well-known man, I believe."

"I've seen her in the Arena, I think." She watches everyone, not just those in her District. "And you appreciate spunk, do you?

"Ah, yes. All you had to say was 'Peacekeeper'." He waves a hand, as if to wave away the entire subject. Or put it aside for later.

"If it's the right kind of spunk, who doesn't?" His grin turns cheeky as it's flashed at her, a mischievous look in his one eye.

She smiles placidly, noting that reaction even as she keeps her own noncommittal. Quintus can defend his own honor, if it ever comes to that.

She offers a playful shrug. "What is the right kind? Is there a point where feistiness and exuberance are too much, or is more only better?"

"Depends on the person. I like more, myself. Kind of like - the more the merrier, if you get what I'm saying." His grin is still in place.

She flashes her teeth. "Of course. No such thing as too much personality, then. It does keep things fresh, I admit--I've been on so many outings with people you'd swear were made of granite. No humor, no expression, simply boredom."

"You aren't picking the right people, then. You need 'em with spunk! And lots of it." People like himself, The Iron Bull.

"I'm sure, I'm sure." She bows her head, demurring to his superior wisdom and experience. "But--do you happen to have any advice on where to find these people?"

He jerks a thumb at himself with a wide grin. "You're looking at it. But seriously, around here, hard to find good people. Can't blame 'em though. Back home, met my share of spunky people. Elves, dwarves, humans..."

She doesn't remark on the implication that there aren't good people in the Capitol, because... Well, voicing any agreement would probably mean that would be the last thing she ever voiced.

To be fair, she has some doubt that there are really good people anywhere.

"It sounds like you knew all sorts. Any theories on what makes a good person?"

"As long as they don't shit on you, they should be good. They keep their own in a fight, they're good." If they aren't screwing you over in said fight, yeah. They're great.

That's especially important in such a place as this.

"You got any?"

She nods gravely. "Doesn't shit and fights well. I'll be sure to remember that."

"I suppose I could think of some... Does a good head on their shoulders count for anything?"

She was thinking of only a handful of people when she said that, but that made them all the more precious. As precious as anything that wasn't a book or rare artifact could be to her.

"It counts for everything! You'll need that person to save your ass more times than you can count. Probably might help in keeping you in line, too," Bull chuckles under his breath.

Krem was good for that, he was good for many things which included being a smartass.

"Who else?"

She laughs. "You're very right with all that."

The people who are coming to mind--Leo, Cyrus, Wesker--aren't those she would imagine as being too popular with Tributes. "If you've met the young woman Emily Finch, I'd say she fits the bill. Possibly too quiet to really be 'spunky', but she's quite intelligent." She pauses. "And all the Tributes in my District, of course. They're very sharp and spirited."

She's not sure how wise it is to give even that small reminder of her comparative status, but decides to risk it anyway. At the least, it might help her determine how

Oh, this is the night and the heavens are right on this lovely Bella Notte

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