(no subject)

[neclectus]

Who| Timaeus Nadir and all his guests. If you are in the Capitol, you've been invited!
What| A spectacular Viewing Party and opportunity for tributes to get sponsorship
Where| The Victoria Ascendant, on the lake
When| After the most recent death roll!
Warnings/Notes| Probable skeeviness of the Nice Guy variety.

Welcome to the Victoria Ascendant, latest in the Ascendant line of luxury yachts as built by the Nadir company. Tonight, the Victoria Ascendant is the stage set for a spectacular party, also paid for by the company and specifically designed and organised by a team of event specialists overseen by your host for this evening, Timaeus Nadir- wealthy eligible bachelor, melodramatic heir apparent to the company chair, frequent sponsor of the Games. The Victoria Ascendant is fully equipped with every obscenely luxurious item imaginable, and practically drips opulence.

When first welcomed aboard you will be assured that your every need will be seen to, your every desire catered for. Staff are on hand to answer any questions you might have or guide you to various areas of the ship, provide you with food, drink, or suggestions of how best to take advantage of the Victoria Ascendant's many amenities- they are here as hosts, but also as salespeople for those of the guests with money to burn- this party is serving more than one purpose. Tributes who responded to their invite will also receive a delicate, hand-written note in a golden envelope as they board- the content of which will be posted as a reply to their response to this post.(I'll do this once your character turns up.)





Although the Victoria Ascendant has a magnificent dining room for formal, sit-down occasions, the food for the party will be circulating the various lounge areas and decks. There is also a buffet table, for those of you who prefer to help yourselves, and a fully stocked bar. Provided are a baffling variety of foods and beverages, seemingly unconnected- but each tribute will find that if at any point during their stay in the Capitol they have requested a particular food or drink item, it is available here. Or, at least, the closest approximation the catering staff could conjure up. Seating is provided in intimate groupings around tables for the most part, though there are large, sprawling couches against the walls. Central to the dining area is a magnificent aquarium filled with brightly coloured fish. Anyone looking closely enough will recognise them- varieties of piranha- but don't worry, they've been more than adequately fed and the glass is thick.

While there are various screens displaying the Games throughout the ship, Viewing is also taking place on an enormous screen, set up in a seperate lounge area with full floor-to-ceiling windows all along one side. Here, staff wait to take bets or help organise the giving of sponsor gifts. Large, comfortable couches line the room, and the central table overflows with a spectacular arrangement of edible flowers and fruit.





Later in the evening, you will be told that the firework display is about to begin, and invited to go up onto the main deck to watch. The fireworks themselves will be launched from smaller boats across the lake, and the display is set to be truly spectacular. It will be set to some music that Tributes may find familiar- various melodies pulled from the most recent Arena. The large swimming pool on the deck is open, but it is too early in the year to be comfortable to use. Instead, it is being used as an unusual centrepiece for the evening. Floating in the illuminated water is a gigantic iceberg, sculpted into a stylised model of the current arena and populated with frozen figures. Eagle-eyed Tributes may be able to spot themselves depicted in ice- more often than not, the moment of their deaths are the pose of choice, if a little tweaked for the sake of a more dramatic scene.


Enjoy!

Adachi · Ariadne · Asha · Atticus · Beck · Blaine · Calico · Callista · Chris · Diana · Don · Eddie · Eponine · Eva · Gaila · Glinda · Harley · Howard · Julie · Kurt · Marty · Maximus · Momoko · Neffa · Parker · Peeta · Phil · Pruna · R · Sigma · Some · Thane · Timaeus · Topher

Comments

Howard | OTA

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

Howard does his best to avoid the ice sculptures - aside from the fact that there's a life-size carving of him dead, he hasn't really liked big ice creations since the fifth arena. Or ice anything. Instead, he hangs out on one of the couches, dressed in a dark outfit with gold face decorations.

He looks different than he did the last time he was in the Capitol. Painfully skinny again, and tired, but there's a sort of intensity that follows him around like a cloud. He's tired of dying, tired of hiding and stretching his time out. Tired of fearing death. He's awake now, and in an awful way, he feels untouchable.

That new confidence means that he sprawls on a couch instead of curling up.

Re: Howard | OTA

[shambler]

R came back from the dead to find out he was invited to a party.

His Escort at first looks like she wants to argue with him and start the whole process of herding him when coaxing doesn't work. Then she realizes he wants to go - her whole body language changes and R's almost sorry he groaned anything at all because now she's chattering away, bright-eyes, in her best sea-foam teal headdress and wig and practically glowing in his face. The zombie stares at her over his muzzle. He's almost thankful when he starts drifting away in his head. Sometimes there's perks to being Dead.

The truth is R wants to go to see if his friends are there, if they came back too. He hopes so.

The zombie balks when he realizes they're going on a boat. Surrounded by water. It's still fresh, what it felt like to fall into that swamp and have those fishes for company for hours or days - R wasn't sure, actually, because time crept up on him normally and underwater, it was even worse. No time. Just piranhas. Thousands of nips at a time, until they ate enough of his eyes and his brain to finally kill him. It makes starvation look like a party. So yeah, R thinks he has a little bit of an excuse to drag his feet more than usual before the gangplank.

He won't know if the others are here unless he sucks it up and checks, he tells himself. Blowing out a wheezy breath, R starts the long, tortured process of shuffling up the gangplank and hoping he doesn't pitch himself overboard a second time. By the time he gets to the top, there's a small line of guests behind him waiting and looking impatient because he's holding everyone up.

"Howard?" R's staggering speeds up when he realizes it's not crowded yet and he spots Howard. The guy looks skinny but his face is in one piece again and he's here and breathing. "You're...okay!"

R || OTA

[shambler]

R this time stays away from any long drops or sudden edges. Death by piranha makes even a zombie not want to push it too much. That's saying something.

The zombie eventually takes to shuffling around the ship. His Escort at first hovers at his shoulder, talking slightly too loud and gushing about the Victoria Ascendant; she glances over more than once as if she's making sure he doesn't lunge at anyone in his...enthusiasm. Checking to see if she has to run interference. R could do without the chaperone, but at the same time, he gets she's supposed to be there in case the muzzle doesn't work. He notices the distance between them grows as she runs into friends and more people she wants to impress. More than once she tries to straighten his high collar, buttoned a little too tight for a human, lined in matching teal. The plus side is it's so stiff that R feels his head doesn't loll around as much. Like zombie training wheels.

He wonders if she picked the outfit for that reason. The fabric's not exactly flowing like the ocean or the tide or whatever. Maybe anything looser would waft his smell around.

R continues to slouch his way across the ship, Exploring for Dummies style - basically he keeps shambling until he bumps into something, like a slow version of pinball. The zombie mostly sticks under the deck, away from the wide open space with the pool. That said, R can be found staring up at the stars from the safety of the windows or plunked down in front of one of the TVs showing coverage of the Games like a dead boy given a timeout.

"You might learn something, dear," his Escort insisted when he turned to stare at her. "If you only applied yourself!"

R grunted at that. His Escort wanders off to get a drink. R turns back to the TV in time to see a recap of the most recent Tribute deaths, complete with moving music designed to pull at the heartstrings if you had any.

[OOC: Basically R can be found wherever on the ship, just away from the railings or the upper deck and pool]

[misscabernet]

She has to say, she's into this. Easy to let yourself go around decadence when you've been hiding and scavenging nearly half of your life. She's never seen a yacht. Or ice sculptures -- and she's definitely never seen one that looked like her. She turns away from those pretty damn quickly.

And never has she seen so much food. It's everywhere. People eat it casually, knowing there's as much as they could possibly want. Not a square of Carbtein in sight. This food isn't for nutrition, it's for taste. The kind of bite-sized crap she knows goes with alcohol.

As tempting as it is, she shys away from the trap. Julie thinks if she came back (because really, what has she accomplished?) that maybe -- you know, maybe. She looks around, keeping to herself.

Hard to miss the zombie with a muzzle.

Julie blinks at him, at the woman by his side until she toddles off. Hale and whole. No bleeding stump of a leg. No eyepatch. Jesus, he looks good. The warm, sickeningly bubbly feeling in her stomach isn't from 10-year old beer this time. It's a wave of relief. (It meant he'd died, didn't it? That he was back here, too? Fuck. Of course she'd gotten him killed, too. Or did they just -- hell.)

Julie marches right over to him, doesn't take a second to think before she's got both arms wrapped tight around his neck. She's straight up clinging to him, pressing her face to his chest. It's not like she's gonna fucking cry or something. Come on.

"Hey."

Eva | OTA

[vissernone]

Of course, once Eva ferreted out information about the theme of the party, she had to take the concept to a slightly more uncomfortable extreme. She arrives at the party in a light grey tiered, structured dress, which would look outright drab by Capitol standards if not for the red splattered stain that covers the majority of the torso, and is continued up her face and neck with well-applied makeup. A trick to the eye, it gives her the effect of having been splashed in blood that's gone a few hours to pot. Her earrings are a dark red chain of rubies falling down each side of her face.

If she'd wanted to go for costumeish, she'd have painted her face to look dead, but instead she looks very much alive. Her face keeps cracking open into a wide smile as she wanders around the party, nibbling at an edible lily and eying the bar.

Re: Eva | OTA

[shambler]

Red splashed against grey. It pings R on some instinctive level: a quick visual cue, important if you're half-blinded and you're not able to pick up that negative Dead scent if, say, you don't have a nose anymore. It happens. Sometimes they fall right off. Usually red on gray equals another zombie to bump shoulders with, a zombie who just ate and might be willing to share. With the perfume reeking off his outfit, R can't smell anything and all he has is this feeling like someone shoved plugs up his nose. His Escort even made sure to give him a "safety spritz" of Tide's Sigh before she turned him loose and went back to chatting up another sponsor.

R reaches up to paw at his nose and almost shoves the muzzle straight into his skull. Good going, idiot! Annoyed, R drops his hand and goes back to wandering, bumping shoulders with sponsors and Mentors equally. He registers them as bright flashes of color, saturation overboard, a lot of sparkles and furs and weird clothes. It's the red on gray that suddenly stands out, looking almost drab compared to everyone else.

Eventually he shambles close enough to see it's not another Dead. It's Eva. the woman he tried to learn nooses from. Feeling better, the zombie staggers up to her and he's comfortable enough to groan out a "hello" while he's at it.

"Hi," R says.

Don | OTA

[polyturtle]

He wouldn't have come, but he was well-aware what he needs to do. This was a Sponsor, an influential one as well. If he got on with this guy, he could score a new source of supplies for him and his allies. Plus, the invitation didn't leave much room for saying no.

Thankfully he wasn't flying solo on this one in terms of clothing meant to impress - his Stylists got the hint from Eva and actually dressed him in something. Dark brown trousers made of wheat strands. Dark boots, and a necklace wreath of grains. They actually paid attention to him. Huh.

Now he was walking around, and--well. There's a little one-armed dead turtle in Fantasyland next to another dead Tribute in that sculpted ice.

That's not at all creepy.

[amplifying]

There was something different looking at the ice sculptures not too far from where he was.

Beck didn't want to say weird, because who was he to talk? He was a former Program who couldn't even tell which guts were his guts and what they were there for. But this guy...certainly didn't look like a User, either. Because he doubted most Users were that big. And green. And had some sort of shell on his back.

He frowns a little when he sees the face the unidentified Tribute makes, and sighs. So he wasn't the only one who thought that the sculpture was a little...uncalled for? The Games back home were bad, but these Games...?

Beck slowly walks beside the Tribute, sipping lightly on his drink. "It's sick, isn't it?"

[makeflowersgrow]

Eponine was once more coaxed to the party, with the promise of a subtle dress that even she would think was relatively modest. As a result, she's dressed in a silvery material, embroidered all over with gems and lace, and dotted with subtle glowing lights.

She stands, brandy in hand, feeling slightly sick to the stomach, staring at an ice sculpture of what is undoubtedly her, sat astride Howard with her elongated fingernails clawing at his chest. She balls her own nails; in defiance, she had cut off Valeria's alterations, and chewed them down until her fingers almost bled. Behind the ice Eponine, an iced man swings an ice stick square at her head. She wants to look away but... she can't. She's transfixed.

[lassoftruthiness]

Diana can see many people enthralled by the sculpture, and several of what must be Tributes who are for the most part less fascinated and more upset. One girl draws her attention more than the others and Diana can't help but move forward.

"Are you feeling alright?" she asks in a murmur so the girl isn't embarrassed if they're overheard.

Neffa | OTA

[lessthanelementary]

They'd gone with a vaguely nautical theme for him tonight, a long coat with uncomfortably heavy embroidery at the cuffs and hair accessories designed to resemble... seaweed? (Amazing, that his first thought had been a relieved Oh, well, that's not so bad.)

He'd been quietly dreading this party in the days since he'd woken up outside the Arena. As it turned out, the boat itself blew a solid half of his reservations out of his head at a first glance.

Ristopa was built on a river - a river that ran low and muddy brown one half of the year and high and muddy yellow the other half. In the dry season it was thick with sluggish, flat-bottomed barges ferrying goods to the warehouse district, and in the wet season these made way for the pleasure boats, long and graceful, with colored sails that went up in their hundreds on the rare days when the wind picked up.

It could not have prepared him for this. The clearness of the water in the evening light, and the colors the water was capable of holding, reflected from the great white boat (it was larger than any house he'd ever lived in) were like nothing he'd ever seen. He had to remember to close his mouth enough to put on a smile when he walked up the gangplank. When he settled himself, it was near a window and near the bar - close enough both to watch the lights on the water, and to order a drink for anyone who might join him with minimum effort.

...Gods, but it was hard to care about the bright-colored crowd around him with all that water out there, just a leftward glance away. How did anyone get used to that?

[amplifying]

It was kind of hard to find anyone who wasn't absorbed in the ice in the water. Which...was understandable. Since it showed all of the Tribute dying and how. Of course there would be some who were sucked into it. Probably not for the same reasons as the people who actually enjoyed this stuff going on, but...

Beck could spot a User not too far away who didn't seem to be all that into it. And without thinking, he just started to gravitate his way over there.

He walked up to the bar and ordered a drink for himself ("I'll...just have what he's having." with a point to the User beside him), watching the lights reflect off of the table in front of him as he sipped on it quietly. After approximately two sips after...he pushed it away. Too bitter. A little tangy. His User body didn't like it.

Did that other User like drinks like this too? Did they all?

"Do you want t his?" He asked the person beside him, scooting his glass a little closer his way.

Pruna | OTA

[knifewithnoname]

The girl hadn't been completely opposed to coming here, she had had a few days to get used to not being dead even though she had died, and she still remembered Cinna's words about making sure people liked her, so they would help her stay alive.

However she really hadn't thought through all the practicalities, like the fact she would be forced into a stupid dress she couldn't really move in, or that her hair would be pulled so tight she had to resist finding a knife and cutting it off.

She felt exposed, if anyone attacked her like this she would be helpless. She had point blank refused to wear shoes, and since the dress reached the ground she had gotten away with it.

Not that it would help, she still tripped up every few steps and it made her angry. The dress was a deep blue and though Pruna hated it it did make her feel grown up. She had never worn a long dress before, until the arena at least.

She was mostly found poking things, the affluence was more than she had ever seen before, and she had snuck into some very wealthy houses back in Gauig.

She also spent some time side eyeing the food and wondering if anyone was going to shout at her if she took some. And when she found the ice structures she stood staring at them for a long time, fascinated both by what they depicted and the fact they were ice; she had never seen ice before though she knew what it was. And it was in shapes and not melting.

Finally she could be found staring out at the ocean, wondering if she could steal a boat (a much smaller one) and escape over it, because this couldn't be the only country in this world.

[gruesome]

When Some saw the child, he froze still, watching her from a dozen yards away. He'd glimpsed her in the Arena, just there at the start. And now, like then, his stomach clenched at the sight. Too young.

Marty (Escort | OTA

[psychophilia]

It was too early in the evening for Marty to put on his- and he gave a mental cringe at the term- game face. Schmoozing was a three drinks in activity, minimum. Though whether that was the number he'd had or the number the people he had to talk up his- or soon to be his, after this latest 'round'- tributes had had was up for debate. Didn't matter, in the end. It was still too early. Better to steer well clear of sponsors and mentors looking for future alliances until he had to. Fewer chances to steer things wrong.

For now, scotch in hand, he was planted before the fish tank. One hand hovered near his mouth, not quite touching, as he followed one fish's winding trail through the aquarium. Piranhas. Hell. There was a message for the lot of them.

Re: Marty (Escort | OTA

[vissernone]

Dealing with parties of any sort is a multiple-drinks sort of endeavor for Eva. She's two glasses in before she really starts to socialize in her dress and makeup, which gives the illusion that she's been spattered with blood and rubies. The red wine matches the color well.

"You're not a Tribute," she observes, coming up behind Marty and looking with bemusement at the fish. "I don't believe we've met."

Momoko | OTA

[cowardfacinghappiness]

Momoko had rather been looking forward to less parties as one of the perks of Victory, and would have vastly preferred staying in tonight. But apparently this was the 'can't miss' party and she did feel some responsibility to scout out Sponsors for her Tributes, since she wasn't very useful in most of the other areas of Mentoring.

Tonight she wasn't at her best even in this area. She wasn't in a terrible outfit at least, though she felt the hat was a little much, but she was distracted by the ice sculpture, too absorbed in it too pay much attention to the other guests. It was certainly...accurate, and Momoko supposed she should be grateful she didn't have an icy death for it to showcase.

She didn't feel very grateful.

[knifewithnoname]

Pruna was quietly fascinated by the ice sculptures, still wondering how they didn't melt and how they had been made into those shapes at all.

She recognised the woman, she had met her before the arena, she was someone who had won. Pruna gave her a tiny smile and a wave, still a little wary of going over.

[amoral_savior]

The ship was bright and full of people who sparkles and a few who glowed. Topher felt sick. The invitation had arrived and suddenly his Handlers were all over themselves with how he would dress and who he should talk to; he just wanted to stay in his room. In the end the Handlers had won and now Topher found himself hideously out of place in an outfit that boasted a shirt that change color with your mood. It was currently dark puce.

A few citizens had tried to talk to him. They were searching for some new face to fawn over, but he had no idea what to say to these vapid individuals and eventually people seemed to realize that he was hopelessly clueless about social situations. Instead of being a good little social tribute, Topher sat drawing out plans for a new chair on a napkin.

[freebitchbaby]

Gaila peered at the funny little guy in the corner.

He seemed shy. And he definitely wasn't making the best of this chance to socialise. She sighed and shook her head. Poor lil' guy. He hadn't a clue that he wasn't going to do well in the arena if he didn't have lots of sponsors. So the Orion took it upon herself to do him a kindness.

She sat down beside him with a beautiful smile and a dress that matched the colour of her curls. "Hi. I'm Gaila. What'cha drawing cutie?"

[amplifying]

Beck had already learned about one thing tonight- User clothing was really, really uncomfortable.

They had him in a black tux that was itchy from neck to foot. Then they also gave him these really stiff, tight shoes that clicked when he walked. The only thing that wasn't completely black on him was a light blue tie...and if you squinted really hard, it could be glowing. A similar shade of blue circled around the dock between his shoulders, where his identity disc was. Which now, thankfully was repaired.

The yacht was...well, unique looking. Beck never heard of a boat that had a bar in it. Or an aquarium. Or a resting hall. Or a dining hall. They never had anything that flashy around Argon, at least. If they did, he sure didn't pay any attention to it.

He walked inside and immediately picked up a blue looking drink, before walking his way outside and to the pool. There floating in the middle was an...iceberg. The castle stood out perfectly in the middle, with little tiny figurines of...the dead Tributes floating in the middle. He shouldn't look. No, Beck shouldn't look...

...he looked anyway.

It took a while, but yup, there he was. Three icy figurines were harassing his one, whose mouth was open in an invisible scream. There were a few parts of him ripped open, and there were things falling out.

And just like that, Beck lost his appetite. He walked over to the edge of the boat and tossed his drink out into the water. He felt kind of weird, like his insides were doing flip-flops. What did Daniel call that feeling again? Nauseous?

[vissernone]

Eva's well-acquainted with the horrors of drinking too much, and as such when she sees from the corner of her eye Beck heading for the edge of the boat and discarding his drink, she assumes that to be the problem. She excuses herself from the conversation she's stuck in and navigates through another two people chatting to come to his side, hiking the skirt of her dress up slightly so she doesn't trip on it as she goes.

Unfortunately, her outfit is unlikely to be of much comfort to Beck. Though the dress's base color is a light grey, it's stained with a splatter of red that Eva's worked into the makeup on her neck and face, as well, to give her the appearance of a blood splash. Her only accents are a red sash and ruby earrings.

She sets her hand on the rail and rests the other at her side, not willing to invade Beck's personal space yet. "Are you alright?"

Thane | OTA

[battlesleep]

They'd dressed him in black leather, which was familiar enough, but they'd taken the style of the clothes he was accustomed to, what had become almost a uniform over the years, and turned it extravagant and unwieldy. His mouth was a thin sharp line pressed together as he joined the party, but he took care to maintain a neutral expression otherwise.

He had always been good at losing himself in a crowd. This would be no different, and there could be information to be gained.

Re: Thane | OTA

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

Howard, too, is wearing black. His outfit has some slight padding on the inside, and it's several layers; he's sweating slightly from it all. His stylists have been trying to downplay how emaciatedly skinny he is whenever he's resurrected. His eyes are sunken, his cheekbones and vertebrae in the back of his neck pronounced. A gold serpentine pattern is drawn on his gaunt face.

For that matter, he's trying to put that weight back on, because he managed to get himself an entire platter of tiny spanikopita rolls. He pops them in his mouth two at a time, swallowing them whole. Little flakes of pastry join the sheen of bronze liner on his lips.

"Hey. You made it out," he says through a mouthful of food, swallowing audibly. "You don't look like you're having fun."

Atticus | OTA

[kind_of_a_nerd]

Atticus was not sure exactly why it was he came here tonight, but he was hoping it could get his mind off the Games for a night. He wanted to just drink and forget and maybe enjoy some music and fireworks or something. When he sees the broadcasting televisions, he stops by the bar first to get himself something ridiculously alcoholic.

This is going to be a long night.

Re: Atticus | OTA

[captjtkirk]

A night shared is less a pain than a night alone. Jim found the bar about ten hot seconds after arriving on the ship, and while he could admit it was an amazing boat, it still had nothing, nothing, on his. He couldn't forget that, even as he milled around in some surprisingly subdued clothes. Subdued but tight. Pretty much Jim under the surface and he wasn't sure if he appreciated the lack of actual flash and pizazz or not.

That he actually managed to get a beer suddenly made being here still manageable.

He tips his cup in the other guy's direction. "Cheers."

Eddie Blake | OTA

[no_spelled_y_e_s]

The party was a little swankier than Eddie usually liked, but the food was good, and the booze was free, and that was really all he needed. He's camped himself out near the bar with a glass of scotch and is watching the action on TV, occasionally tapping ash from the end of his cigar into a nearby tray.

Re: Eddie Blake | OTA

[revvinguptheharley]

Harley was enjoying herself immensely so far. She felt like such a high class dame in her red dress with three black diamonds on the skirt. She had finally reached an understanding with her stylist to the point she even got to wear her domino mask. No white makeup though. Just black lipstick to match.

Sauntering over to the bar she ordered "Gimmie a Pan Galactic Gargle Blaster." She purred to the bartender with a wicked smile.

Even Harley had a soft spot for the classics.

She hadn't noticed Eddie yet, scanning the crowd for more familiar faces. As nice as the party was, she was beginning to long for the few people she knew in this crazy mixed up world.

A girl like Harley craved attention.

Ariadne | OTA

[buildingreality]

Ariadne found that, even more than during her private tour, the yacht is even more welcoming and strangely opulent - an odd combination to think about, actually - now that the party is all set up. She was keeping largely to herself as she meanders around the place, examining everything with a practiced eye, and generally looking interested in it all.

It might be interesting to note that, for one of the first times in a long time, she looked generally pleased to be anywhere. Though only visible in the way she held herself and the light expression on her face, she was almost enjoying herself here.

Re: Ariadne | OTA

[vissernone]

"Miss Adne," Eva says, holding a candy rose out to Ariadne. "I really need to find a last name for you."

Eva's outfit is a grey structured dress with what appears to be a large bloody splash across the front - the stain is continued in her artfully-done makeup.

"You almost look happy to be here. Did you take up drinking or something?"

Maximus | OTA

[gluteus]

Maximus Decimus Meridius was, as ever, the ultimate Gladiator. They rarely strayed from Ancient Rome in the design of his clothes and he preferred it that way - even if he had no idea what type of material his elaborately adorned breastplate was made of, raised motifs of gladiators fighting grimly across his chest. In a nod to his District, thin threads of LED lights were woven into his cloak, shimmering with light as he moved.

He hated it. But then, it was merely another uniform.

Less than 24 hours ago, he had been in the arena. Felt death take him. He'd been wounded. Missing an ear. Missing everything. But now, he was here, in this land even farther from his own, surrounded by men and women that were near mythical as they were near grotesque and he wallowed quietly in self-loathing and a desperate yearning for death.

On the outside, however, he was as blank faced and stern as ever.

Re: Maximus | OTA

[vissernone]

"You look like you could use a drink," Eva says. "I hate to be the only person here using alcohol to cover up for how I can't stand this nonsense sober."

She slips a glass of champagne into Maximus' hand. Her outfit is a grey dress with a splash of red across the breast and shoulder that is mimicked by makeup across her neck and face. It gives her the appearance of having been splashed with blood. Chains of dark red rubies fall from her ear piercings, and a red ribbon that trails down her side completes the grisly look.

Timaeus, your host and sponsor | OTA

[neclectus]

Timaeus was outfitted in a sleek, dark navy suit with bright orange and teal feather accents at the shoulders and lapels- nothing too elaborate, as he was far from the star of the show. He preferred to move among his guests, greeting them where they made eye contact or seemed to be standing alone. The party was going rather well, he thought, and he took great delight in overhearing compliments showered on the Victoria Ascendant, the decor, the food and drink. Once or twice, he caught the tail end of a conversation about him- a couple of his peers speculating on the reasons he had yet to inherit the Nadir family business in between sips of drink, someone asking another sponsor whether they'd heard the latest scandalous thing he'd allowed his aging mother to get up to- but he refused to let his mood sour for them.

He was here to meet the Tributes, and choose a favourite or two, and the last thing he wanted was to give them the wrong idea about who he was and what he wanted from them. The party was, as far as he was concerned, a perfect opportunity for some mutually beneficial exploration and the gathering of knowledge.

[knifewithnoname]

It didn't take Pruna long to learn who it was who had invited them all. She was trained in listening to conversations, picking up information.

Here she didn't even need to try, they spoke so much that she barely had to pause to learn things. It was easier actually to pretend this was just another job, a job where she had to blend in with the crowd. It made the dress and the painful hair a little bit more bearable.

She still held the picture she had been given in her hands, she didn't quite get the references but she liked it. A lot. It was strange for her to see an image of herself but it was pretty and she had never been given anything like this before.

It did make her suspicious though, because no one did anything for nothing and all the food and the boat and the way everyone was so nice. It all seemed like some kind of trick, so everyone was in his debt.

Which was very clever, but she wanted to know why. So she watched him.

Kurt Hummel | ota

[showbizpanache]

[Kurt shows up alone, dressed in a sleek outfit that may or may not be all black for a reason. His arms are pulled tightly against his body as he wanders around, taking in the spectacular sights--and while he does stare at some of it, he doesn't seem all that impressed. More than anything he just looks uncomfortable, though he's trying to hide it.

Eventually he makes his way over to the table, and is pleased to see some cheesecake there. He can't help but have some, even if he thinks this entire thing seems very contrived.]

[gruesome]

Uncomfortable's a good word. Some had almost started to enjoy the parties, at least the ones he got to go to with Lottie, but not tonight. He's looking for distraction, more than companionship, when he approaches the first slightly familiar face he notices aboard. Here, in the well-let environ of the ship and dressed in a loose weaving of bronze thread, he probably doesn't look anything near as intimidating as he did coming down off that roof in the Arena, but he still holds his upper body low as he approaches, a constant effort not to tower over the humans.

"Ah... hello again."

Asha Greyjoy | OTA

[doesnotsew]

She last remembered dying, closing her eyes and hoping her body could reach the water, having at least gone down fighting. When she opens her eyes anyway, she's at first expecting to find herself a captive again, after some last-minute rescue, but there are no wounds, no chains, nothing to suggest she had ever been in the arena-- nothing, that is, except for the disturbing, bizarre world she finds herself in.

It's too much to take in at once, when she's never so much as seen electricity. There's just enough time for them to cram her into some ridiculous outfit, some green boy's imagination of what a captain might look like, the weight and the cut utterly wrong, thin enough to be useless out on the water, and usher her out to the strangest boat she's ever seen, sitting fat and useless in the water.

She'd growled for an explanation at one of the servants-- it was always easy to spot the thralls-- and didn't find an answer she liked. Most of the ship is too bizarre for her to stand, moving paintings, more lifelike than anything she'd ever seen, showing the arena she had just left, lights too steady to come from any natural fire... but the deck, at least, couldn't change much, and the water still flowed underneath them and there was ale amongst all the rest. She spent the party there, back to the railing to hear the sound of the ocean, scowling for more drinks and trying to make sense of the world.

"Dear uncle would love this, if it didn't break his salt-addled brain," she mutters sourly into her cup, spotting more than a few that had definitely died, even by her hand...

[knifewithnoname]

Pruna spotted her and sneaked her way to her side, only stumbling a little in the dress they had put her into. She was sort of disappointed the woman was dead, she had seemed like she was strong, maybe even strong enough to win.

"I did be telling you their clothes did be being stupid." She said as she approached the railing, far enough away from the other woman to be safe.

Calico - (district 8) OTA

[riptheseams]

It's Calico's first public appearance since her apparent morphling binge, and she has decided on a slightly more demure outfitthan usual. She grimaces in distaste at the decorations - bloody Capitolians - but otherwise keeps her thoughts to herself.

She falls on the food though; the spiced chicken is delicious and after months of bland food, the hot chilli is a relief.

Calico's grin is huge as she takes in the rest of the ship; she scouts out the dance floor for later when the lemonade's been flowing, but for now, wanders up onto the deck, enjoying the chilli chicken under the stars.

[doesnotsew]

She eyes the woman idly. Well, someone was happy enough to be here. At least someone could be comfortable here; she couldn't be, with everything so foreign.

The smell of food is appetizing enough, though, so she keeps looking as the woman approaches the deck. Chicken, maybe, but cooked in a way she didn't recognize-- whatever it was, it was more appetizing than what she'd been picking at back home. "Now that smells like something worth having."

Julie | OTA

[misscabernet]

Julie really wishes someone had taken five minutes to tell her they came back. After getting killed by some power-hungry asshole, she was pissed. Not because he'd gotten the jump on all of them -- the guy had had a lance, she wasn't expecting miracles there when she didn't even have a pocket knife to spare -- but the fact that, you know, nineteen years with the hungry Dead and she gets offed by a dick with a large pointy stick.

It feels like it should be ironic.

After thoroughly running hands over every place she should have a hole in her, she gets it: this is supposed to be normal. Die in the Arena, come back for more entertainment value. More bang for your buck.

She doesn't even want to know how it happens. She just takes it in numb shock. Die, come back. Die, come back. Feels almost as bad as being stuck in that stadium.

The invitation is good. Party. Get her mind off of it (die, come back.) And really, when has she ever been to a party? The little get-togethers with her dad and Perry both excessively straight-laced and straight-backed were more like slow torture. Pretending Perry had never looked at her twice and they hadn't made love a couple of times on the stadium roof. Right. No, Dad. All their time spent together was extremely business-professional.

She'll take a party where she doesn't know anyone. She lets her supposedly self-appointed caretakers do what they want, layers of makeup she's never bothered with and another dress, the richest she's seen.

It's red, and she has to wonder if that's a slight against her. Red attracts the dead.

Re: Julie | OTA

[whosalicewhite]

"Made you look like a clown too?"

Parker's pink: pink dress, pink makeup, and pink hair. Cotton candy attacked her.

Usually, she doesn't talk at parties but this is a tribute she doesn't recognize.

[taseyousupernanny]

If someone wasn't looking, they just might have passed over Phil. He'd picked out the most sedate of his outfits and then blended into the crowd.

He actually regretted that Tony or one of the other Avengers wasn't here. Observation was key and watching how people reacted to a force like Stark or Rogers told you quite a bit about them.

For now, he sat back with his champagne he wasn't drinking and stayed in the shadows.

Let the games begin.

[polyturtle]

Observe this one, agent.

There was a giant turtle walking around, all dressed up, looking at the food, frowning at the pizza and piranhas. Being flocked a little by some of the guests, giving them smiles that an observant watcher would notice was faked for their convenience. But quite a few people at the party were already a bit too tipsy to notice and instead congratulated him on his wonderfully gruesome mutilation and fight to the death - even people who'd lost bets on his dying from his infected stump.

What resilience he had! How lucky that he'd known what to do and had some attention given to it! That fight with Sigma was amazing! Its two bad they weren't the final two!

The turtle, meanwhile, was entirely sober. But not without a drink, as he finally - finally - took one. A cup of green tea, nice and steaming, which he sipped as he came back out onto the deck. He stared out onto the water, quietly watching the waves under the setting sun.

Diana | OTA

[lassoftruthiness]

Obviously her Stylists had seen and made note of something from the Arena, because Diana found herself dressed in a gown clearly made to reference her armor, complete with mock-ups of her bracers and tiara.

This was humiliating and offensive on so many levels Diana had been struck speechless at first, then she kept her silence until she was sent off to the party itself, which took place so soon after her return from the Arena she hadn't had time to seek out anyone she knew beforehand.

As soon as she was free to move about on her own she headed straight for the deck and the railing looking out at the water. She removed the tiara from her elaborately braided hair, drew back her arm, and whipped it out into the darkness. There was a splash and it wasn't quite as satisfying as it would have been with her powers, but it made her feel a little better.

She went for the bracers next.

[amoral_savior]

Women were, well, they were scary at the best of times, but Topher was bored and maybe a little lonely, so when he saw the woman standing at the railing he tooks a quick gulp of his beer and ambled over careful not to get too close to the railing.

"Don't think they'd like that." There's probably a lot of things they wouldn't like such as how he'd dismantled a computer in his room. "They went through all that hard work to make sure we looked as foolish as possible and everything."

Adachi | OTA

[wantedittobeagame]

He was here for the free food. He had to keep telling himself that.

Still, it was depressing to be in the middle of a party like this, and not have anyone he knew here. Hell, Adachi would have taken Seito over any one of the Capitol snobs that kept stopping him, congratulating him on his good "first time" performance, like he was just some kind of actor. He wished that was actually the case; he would have much rather pretend to have been dying then to actually have it happen. Again.

...he was pretty sure Izanami was laughing somewhere.

Adachi tugged absently at the suit he managed to convince his Stylists to let him wear (IE, whined as annoyingly as possible until he got his way), suspecting they had made it extra tight just to spite him.

"Damn, this sucks..." he muttered under his breath, wondering just where that free food was.

[electriccandlelight]

"What sucks?" asked Valeria brightly, all set to brush past him before she'd heard his remark. Someone not enjoying themselves at a party? Clearly her expertise was required.

Parker | OTA

[whosalicewhite]

Parker's not been back in the Capital long. Within a day of dying, here she is, dressed up in something Pink, frilly, and ridiculous, scouting the crowd for the rich and the gullible.

She wants to take something. It's not going to do anything for her, other than feel she's taken back the tiniest bit of control.

Re: Parker | OTA

[makeflowersgrow]

Eponine is experienced enough to recognise someone sizing up a crowd by now. She's watched her parents do it often enough; she knows all of the tricks, if she cared to employ them... but for now, Eponine is following advice, keeping her head down so she can have a chance to run later. Still, as she wanders back to Howard from the buffet table, with yet another plateful of cakes for the pair of them to eat, she stops, just by Parker.

"Don't, Madame." It's a hiss of a whisper, followed by a brief smile. And then Eponine stares because she has never seen so much pink on one person in her life. To her, Parker looks almost doll-like... Eponine's not sure if that's a good or a bad thing.