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

[etcircenses]

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.

Comments

[conifer]

"Luke," she repeats, nodding. "Yeah, you're one of Leo's." She offers something of a sympathetic look, not having much in the way of personal dealings with Leonidas Cora but not having much of an opinion of him either. Then the significance of the District occurs to her and her expression changes to one of concern. "You know Merlyn? He's in District Two as well, I know he could use a friend in there." One that's going to keep him out of trouble.

[burningdaylight]

No, he wants to say, in a knee-jerk reaction. I don’ belong to nobody. But he packs down his feelings as he knows best and keeps quiet, his brows drawing together when Merlyn is mentioned. He cants his head slightly.

“...Merlyn?”

Luke knew of him, Merlyn easily being the oldest fellow on his floor -- and he's caught word of him engaging in spirited diatribes against the Capitol. Setting one’s jaw and keeping one’s head down while seething with the injustice that all under the Capitol's thumb faced is, at times, a fucked up thing to do - he’ll be the first to acknowledge that. But that old man’s in danger of losing more than his tongue; it seems like it’s just a matter of time. His lips press thin. It's terrible enough that he's thrown into bloodbaths with the rest of them. Maybe this was some manner of warning of things to come.

“I seen 'im around. Don’ know him personally, though.”

[conifer]

"He's a friend. And I'd consider it a personal favour if the other District Two Tributes would make sure he doesn't get himself killed, at least not outside the Arena." She frowns, thinking it may be an impossible task by now. But she knows she can't expect the offworld Tributes to have the same caution as she did, after all most of them didn't have anything left to lose here. "But don't worry too much. I know you all have got enough problems of your own without me or him adding to them."

[burningdaylight]

Maybe it’s his mood, maybe his general distrust of Capitol staff. But, intentional or not, her request comes off vaguely manipulative to him in the way she puts it forward and then acknowledges the burdens he’s already saddled with as a tribute as if wanting him to put the favour out of his mind, an impossible task once he has already heard it. She must be desperate, he thinks, his mouth skewing in thought and his arms crossed. But he’s not unsympathetic to her plight.

It takes him back to the ski lodge. To Nick eaten alive with guilt and intent on telling Walter the truth while he had attempted to reason with and was then reduced to begging Nick to keep quiet for fear of getting himself killed. Who could know how a stranger would react to hearing that his partner wasn’t coming back because he’d been accidentally killed? For all his efforts to run interference despite his own nagging guilt, Nick had refused to be swayed by him. And Nick had been miraculously lucky that Walter was merciful enough not to run him through with the knife he had been fingering with while listening on, anxious and furious and in pain. Luke had felt a sharp twist in his gut when Clem had described the scene for him.

“If he ain’t afraid a’ “correction”,” Luke chooses his words carefully, a brow arched, though his tone's not unkind, “…an’ you can’t get through to him, as his friend… you really think he’s gon’ have any of it from somebody he’s never met?”