etcircenses: (Default)
Panem Events ([personal profile] etcircenses) wrote in [community profile] thecapitol2015-06-16 06:11 pm

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.
quiethumerus: (light)

Table 13 | Kurloz Makara & Sigma Klim

[personal profile] quiethumerus 2015-06-19 02:12 am (UTC)(link)
Caiaborus won't mind. It is not a meagre self assurance but the truth. Caiaborus hardly thinks them as dating, willing to indulge in flings of his own, calling only when his tastes swayed him so. It allows him freedom to flirt with who he wants, whenever, but also to have no excuse for escaping the clutches of blind dating.

He is already mute, must he really be blind to his dates as well? Truthfully though, he doesn't mind this. If anything, this may truly be fun, and even if it went poorly, he could still look nice for it. Though the medeival theme is ever tempting, it is important a date sees the person as they are, which in this case meant a spined gown, a dark neck piece, a crown of bones, elegant shoes, and matching makeup. His hair has been curled precisely, and his hands and arms made to look like the afters of burned out stake and witch, all blackened charcoal, the makeup sealed so it will not smear or spread, feeling like a second skin. To match theme in other ways he has brought ink and quil pen for his paper pad, just in face he should need it.

With legs folded, he almost starts on feeling giddy. Until he notices Meulin across the room, sitting at another table. Of course she'd be here! It was the prime opportunity for gaining gossip as per her article. This is not the issue. The issue is who dared to seat themselves with her.

He is intending to watch and see, when his own... date arrives.

Well then.
futilecycle: (From my window we could see)

[personal profile] futilecycle 2015-06-23 01:18 am (UTC)(link)
There are few reasons why a Gamemaker should be seen outside of the control room during an Arena, but fortunately for Sigma, attending a charity event is a reasonably good one. As one of the most reviled men in the Capitol- courtesy of rebels and authority aspirants alike- Plutarch had urged him to work hard at maintaining a positive public image. A blind date had probably not been what he'd had in mind. Regardless of whomever had signed him up, Sigma knows it would be considered overwhelmingly tacky to no-show... he, not unlike his Tributes, is trapped here.

Overdressed for the warm, smoky environment, Sigma is sweating before he finds his table. Though attending places like these were a privilege of his status, he cannot help but feel, as he stalks through the restaurant, as though he is wearing a stranger's skin. His last hope for a reasonably good time is to be set up with a lovely lady... perhaps China Sorrows, for instance. But when Sigma's eyes fall on the other tables and he notices men paired with other men, he cannot stop himself from feeling a little discouraged. He had been quick to assume that the dates would be coupled by opposite sex. His mistake. He'd been raised in a different time, for certain.

This thought does not prevent him from growing confused when he arrives at the ominous Table 13. The Stylist Makara was, apparently, occupying his seat. For a man in such a detail-oriented job, Sigma thinks this lapse is out of character even for a ghost, and wonders how this has come to be. Following a brief, uncomfortable silence, Sigma opens his mouth to apologize for the misunderstanding... when reality sets in.

As discreetly as he can manage- an impossible thought, as all eyes were on him- the Gamemaker turns his head towards the other tables to double check their numbers. Table 12, Table 14... He had the right place, but surely, surely, this was a joke...
quiethumerus: (i got problems not just small ones)

[personal profile] quiethumerus 2015-06-23 04:33 am (UTC)(link)
His mouth is always kept closed, lips stuck together, by the work of his needle and threads. However, he still manages to scrunch his mouth up in a way that suggests, if he had a word to say, he'd be barely resisting saying it. This was not what he had had in mind.

It's not as though he doesn't owe plenty to Sigma, he does, truly. But Sigma was the furthest thing he could think of from dating material. Their personalities couldn't possibly match, their interests couldn't be the same; he doesn't know this for sure, but he thinks it must be so. Sigma was a man who had sold out a rebel with his face and called that rebel his child in equal measure. Sigma was motherfucking old. He is fairly certain Sigma is older than his uncle and father both.

There is no way in mother fuckin hell this date was set up for them out of kindness. And that's when he realises-- someone must surely have done this to make a fool of him, set him up for rudeness or a relationship most taboo. Well fuck that. He need not make this romantic to show respect and he'd be damned if he wouldn't find some way to have a good time. He would prove he was still worthy and they, quite fuckin frankly, could suck his dick.

He does a wide dramatic shrug. Well, what can you do? Don't ask me why. Then he gestures out before him to the chair there. Might as well take a seat.

If one thing could be said, Sigma and their current situation shared have successfully distracted him from scoping out Meulin's date.
futilecycle: (Dream on)

[personal profile] futilecycle 2015-06-24 01:52 am (UTC)(link)
It appears the Stylist Makara is equally thrilled. Teeth clenched, Sigma has to stop himself from throwing his head back and screaming. The incestuous nature of the situation fills him with a disgust that boils in his stomach. There really was no other name for this circumstance - how could anyone possibly have thought this was anything less than moral depravity? For the first time in a long time, Sigma is reminded of how poorly the Capitol understood him.

Sigma resigns himself to his fate long enough to take a seat, folding his hands together and placing them gently on the table. This is to keep himself from wringing his napkin into shreds of monogrammed fabric. "W-well, good evening, Mr. Makara," Sigma begins, all nerves. It is the first time since his promotion that he has spoken anything unrehearsed in front of the cameras (at least, cameras intended for the public eye). As it turns out, speaking to a live audience is nowhere near as easy as leaving a prerecorded message.

Nearly shaking with frustration, Sigma knows that as a Gamemaker he has an unspoken obligation to put on a show. If they run through the motions and leave without incident, perhaps their date would be too boring to edit for television and none of this would reflect on his career. Either of their careers, in fact. "Your outfit is..." Feminine. Unusual. Theme-appropriate? "...Creative." Ah, yes: Sigma Klim, former romantic. Was that the best he could do? "...I mean to say it reflects your style. You have done great work in this Arena."

And, dear God, is he thankful he decided against bringing roses.
quiethumerus: (Smirking)

[personal profile] quiethumerus 2015-06-24 02:54 am (UTC)(link)
It would seem that Sigma, without his rehearsal, is not so self-assured in his speech. This surprises him. He'd not pinned Sigma an actor speaking out lines. He makes mental note of it. The poor man seems to be struggling greatly with some thing or other. He cannot exactly fault.

He pulls his paper to the center of the table to be seen properly, then brings the ink quill to touch upon its pages, a light smile upon his face.

A FINE EVENING TO YOU AS WELL, SIR. MUCH GRATITUDE TO BE BESTOWED. BUT MR. MAKARA IS A MOTHER FUCKIN EXCESS AS THE APPELLATION OF MY FATHER. MIGHT I INSTEAD BE GIFTED SOBRIQUET?

The paper is turned around just as Sigma finishes moving along to the next statement. There's a raising of his brow and the slightest trace of a wry smirk-- more real than his normal smiles-- for Sigma's hesitant pause. But his only written comment is; THANK YOU. I WOULD SPEAK TOO OF YOUR WORK BUT I AM NOT SO CERTAIN TRULY OF WHICH PIECES THIS ROUND BEAR YOUR SIGNATURES MOST RIGHTEOUSLY.

He looks Sigma over and extends that thought further; YOU HAVE NOT DONE THIS PRIOR TO NOW, HAVE YOU? He means the blind dating, of course, but if his statement is read wrong he won't claim that fault of his own.
futilecycle: (Let's go out and dance darling)

[personal profile] futilecycle 2015-07-05 10:06 pm (UTC)(link)
Every word lifted from the paper into his thoughts stamps out his hope for a survivable evening like sand fighting fire. Though he surely had not intended to be personal, Sigma feels the distinct sting of betrayal - as though Luna had looked into his eyes and rejected the name that was all her own, demanding something too intimate for him to deliver. Of course, she would never have done such a thing. There were certain lines most people knew better than to cross. "What would you prefer to be called?" He had not expected to sound curt. Now there was no hiding that the stylist's answer may upset him.

While Kurloz prepares his reply, Sigma continues, tone gradually softening: "Perhaps we shall leave that a mystery for the time being. You are a bright man... I have no doubt that you will deduce my signature before too long." In truth, he has no desire to talk about work - and has remembered the cameras are listening. "As for your question..." He's a touch too angry to rationalize what the stylist has asked. Was his date making a dig at his age, or merely reassuring his nervousness with a sarcastic quip? Sigma misinterprets it either way, generalizing it as a date at a fancy Capitolite restaurant, surrounded by cameras. "The last time would have been a year ago now, I suppose. Even then I was not the young man I once was." He imagines a particular redhead sitting across from him and his heart sinks in his chest like a lump of stone. Some days he found it difficult to convince it to keep beating.
quiethumerus: (hairdye)

[personal profile] quiethumerus 2015-07-10 12:26 am (UTC)(link)
The curt return does bring a twinge of agitation. As though it is some grievous presumption he should not want to be referred to by anything too heavily associated with others, that he dare claim his own name.

I WOULD GIVE PREFERENCE TO THE SIGNATURE OF WHICH I WAS BORN WITH, AS YOU OUGHT KNOW THAT IT BELONGS NOW ONLY TO ME.

And should always have. But he'll not let his irritation turn all of what he has to say into threat.

HOWEVER, DUE TO CURRENT CIRCUMSTANCES, I WOULD BE WILLING TO ACCEPT ALTERNATE CASUAL MONIKER. DO YOU PARTAKE EVER IN THE BEQUEATHING OF NICKNAMES? I WOULD OF COURSE REQUIRE ONE RESPECTABLE. I WILL NOT TAKE KIND TO AN ALIAS OF CARLOS. SOME WOULD CONSIDER ME "STITCH". OTHERS HAVE CLAIMED MORE UNSAVORY NAME. MAKARA ALONE HAS BEEN USED. I WOULD REQUEST "K" BUT IF I RECALL, THAT HAD BEEN APPELLATION OF YOUR TRUE SON AND I SEEK NOT TO BRING YOU FURTHER MOTHER FUCKIN DIFFICULTIES.

He is denied the knowledge of which parts belong to Sigma, but just as well. He does enjoy a challenge and prides himself on his intelligence. Unlike fakes who got by on brutishness.

It seems their nerves are both running a little more wired than they had anticipated or desired. Thankfully, that is another thing he prides himself on; his control of emotions serves him well, and he is able to smile and write his next message with the original intent he'd had in mind.

LET ME TO TELL YOU THEN. DO NOT ALLOW YOURSELF TO BE FUSSED BY THE CIRCUMSTANCE DEALT TO YOU. I AM AWARE THAT MY SELECTION AS A DATE FOR YOU IS NOT A THING OF COMFORT. BUT UNDERSTAND THIS; THERE IS NO RULE INSISTING ALL DATES MUST BE ROMANTIC. THERE IS NOT REASON WE CANNOT SPEND A BRIEF EVENING OF TIME TOGETHER IN A WAY THAT COULD BE DEEMED MUTUALLY SATISFACTORY.

And there in undertone, from his words to expression, let us fuckin show them we will not be halted by their whims.
Edited 2015-07-10 00:26 (UTC)
futilecycle: (Milwaukee's a deaf ear for winter prayer)

[personal profile] futilecycle 2015-07-28 03:47 am (UTC)(link)
Sigma's answer is a deep, long breath, held for as long as he can manage... lest he explode. Fury was a knee-jerk response of his that he'd hoped he'd stifled with maturity, but to say that name belonged only to him... It simply wasn't true. It was a secret that the Gamemaker considered the Avox a person, but regardless of any inbred prejudice the stylist bore, he was still gravely mistaken. By the time Sigma has read that fatal letter 'K,' his metal fingernails are screeching across the rim of the table in a hissing, spitting rage. How dare he! What right did he have to dig his filthy, wretched fingers in his wounds?

But he can allow none of this to show on his face. He knows in his heart that the Stylist is right... he is creating a scene and that the longer he indulges in his petty frustrations the worse it will be for the both of them. His personal life was not meant for anyone else's eyes and he can at least allow Kurloz the respect of his own privacy, as well.

He closes his eyes. He must mentally prepare himself for the blasphemy he is about to commit, convincing himself his date just happens to be an individual who shared a name with someone else. After all, there were many other Kyles and Dianas in the world, and that fact was easy to accept. "...If you prefer your given name, then so be it. Kurloz," He almost breaks his teeth on the word, but it's spoken without resentment, "I accept your proposal. Please, do not allow my boorishness to ruin the remainder of this meal." It's as close to an apology as he will get after having the audacity to mention Kyle - at least the Initiate could live long enough to be outraged on his own behalf.

He is eager for another change of topic. "I know so little about you," he deflects bluntly. "Tell me about yourself, if you will. Anything you would like to share." Casual date banter. Benign and open to interpretation. The Stylist could share as much or as little as he was comfortable with.
quiethumerus: (sadness/surprise)

[personal profile] quiethumerus 2015-08-04 02:10 am (UTC)(link)
He does not show fear and he is not afraid. But the anger of Sigma Klim, shown in his fingers and stiff stance, flips a switch in his mind. Callous pride becomes a low hum of anticipating deserved retaliation. The smile doesn't slip away, but it changes from one of defiance to defence without even truly changing appearance at all.

He watches and smiles. He imagines a flipped table, a lifted knife. He imagines if happening to someone beside him, and then imagines it befalling him, without anyone around lifting so much as a finger to stop it and he would not be the least be mother fuckin surprised. He spoke too much. He should put the paper away. He should snap his pen in half.

But instead he gets a name. He doesn't realise he's been holding the pen crushingly tight, but all at once his grip eases. His smile hides the fact that his eyes are searching him over for deception-- or so he thinks. Sigma all but admits he was bothered. Sigma is not some random Capitolite, but a Gamemaker, the people with closest chances for gaining a politician's ear. He ought be more careful.

He doesn't want to tell more of himself. He'd prefer not to speak anymore at all now. He beams at Sigma and nods to say, okay, he will do just that, and thank you.

WITH PRYING INTO YOUR WOUNDS, RIGHTEOUS RECOMPENSE SHOULD THEN COME IN THE TELL OF MY OWN ILK. I HOPE YOU WILL FORGIVE MY TRANSGRESSION, SIR.

I HAVE PRIOR REGALED OF MY FATHER, MR. MAKARA. HE IS A DISTINGUISHED MEMBER OF PANEM'S HONORABLE PEACEKEEPING FORCE. MY MOTHER AND HE ARE OF NO RESEMBLANCE IN CHARACTER BUT MY UNCLE TO HIM IS LESS SO. HE IS SOFT-HEARTED, BUT A GREAT MOTHER FUCKIN FOOL OF A MAN. IT IS OF CONSIDERABLE POSSIBILITY HE HAS SEEN YOU ABOUT AT SOME TIME OR OTHER.

I AM THE ELDEST OF SIBLINGS TWO. MY DEAREST BROTHER IS MORE OF MY BLOOD AND IMAGE THAN HE IS OUR BEGETTERS. HE IS A MIRACLE BORN FOR GREATNESS. HIS SMILE IS TO SHAME THE STARS.

IN OUR YOUTH, WE TRAVELLED THE SHORES OF DISTRICT FOUR TOGETHER. HAVE YOU TRAVELLED MUCH IN YOUR YEARS, SIR?