thecapitol | (no subject)

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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

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"You're still around?"

She couldn't help being intrigued by the... thing, or whatever it was; she'd never seen a creature come so close to being human that still wasn't, shackled up like a mad dog. She's almost surprised that he was a participant at all, instead of one of the creatures released into the arena for entertainment.

She's well into her cups, going back to the source when she couldn't flag down a thrall quickly enough for her liking; she's still not sure what to think of the mini reality playing itself out in the room, something like a warlock's illusion. Perhaps she was seeing the past, considering the number of faces present both at the party and in the visions. It was much easier to go for another cup of ale while contemplating it.

He knew that voice sounded familiar. R turned and there was another of the Tributes he tried taking a chunk out of. The one who tried kneeing him in the crotch, right? (He hadn't been hit there often, so that kind of thing stood out to a zombie).

After what happened to Julie and Howard, how that other guy tracked him down, R thought he better play it differently this time.

"Still...trucking." Awkward. Big pile of awkward. R struggled to get the ball rolling, his head lolling toward the woman. "I'm...sorry about...Cornu...trying to...bite you...before?"

Hopefully no hard feelings. Or no hard feelings that hit his friends. R tried to look apologetic. Mostly he looked Dead.

She didn't hide the look of slight revulsion on her face, a mix of interest and disgust, his body motions too unnatural for her to not feel unsettled. She was most surprised about one thing, though.

"You speak?" She peered at him openly, arms crossed. And it was even... sorry, too, apparently. This was... unusual. "What are you? I'd apologize for your cock, but I'm not sure you have one."

It's almost the same look Julie had when she had the "since when do corpses talk?" reaction. At least R didn't eat this woman's boyfriend. (Then he thinks about Beck and Katurian and hope she wasn't sweet on either of them, because that would be...awkward).

"Some...times I talk," R tried to joke, but it fell flat on its face. Hard to be funny when you're groaning. "I'm a...zom...zombie. Dead. So...plumbing...out...of order."

He waves vaguely in the direction of his feet but whatever, she probably picked up on what he meant. Kneeing him in the crotch wasn't gonna work this time or the next time or ever. It was a bad idea filling another Tribute in on his strengths and weaknesses. Strategy and him weren't in the same room. R stared back at the other Tribute over his muzzle: she looked grossed out but she was still here and talking at him despite his murder attempt. Huh. Weird. What did you even say to someone you tried to eat? "No hard feelings, it's cool"?

She didn't recognize the word 'zombie' (or plumbing, for that matter), but she thought she understood the basics; he was some monster, the sort her uncle would favor if he talked a little less.

"I'm dead too, yet you and I look quiet different." And he had back when she was undeniably alive, too.

R would say she looks pretty damn good for a dead girl. Could've fooled him.

"Not...the same kind...of Dead."

That was so obvious even he could tell the difference. For all he knew, she was talking about getting killed in the Arena by another Tribute. R had no idea how the Capitol stuff worked, why she could come back looking Alive and he didn't. R fell back to a shrug, his slouched shoulders rising because Julie wasn't here to tell him to knock it off.

"Rrrrr...by the way. New...start?" R touched himself, caveman style, because sometimes you had to go simple and easy if you wanted to introduce yourself to humans. Helped get them past the whole talking-corpse thing.

She snorted, because that was obvious enough; her death felt a lot like her living, aside from the massive noise of unfamiliar technology and lights and practices.

She almost missed that it was his name he was drawing out. "'R'?" She raised her eyebrows, but perhaps they just had strange names here-- she was more inclined to think it was a quirk of dead things. "Asha Greyjoy. If you try to bite me again, I'll take your mouth off. At least you have that one."

"Asha," R tested it out. Okay, so it came out more like "Shaaa" and sounded like a dying man's sigh but whatever, he could fine tune it later. "Fair...enough."

Not sure if he should just leave it at that, R shakily thrust out a hand at her: the nice clothes his Escort stuffed him into couldn't hide the fact his hand was cold, gray, and mottled with blue veins so dark they looked black. Shake on it? That was what people used to do, didn't they? R wanted to show Asha she could trust him to try really, really hard not to make a pass at her.

Unfortunately he couldn't make any promises.

That's amusing, at least. "Close enough."

She looked at his hand with the same mild disgust she looked at the rest of him with, like something she'd stumble upon on a battlefield that had been over for days. She didn't move to take the hand, either, glancing back up to his face with a sarcastic half smile.

"So where does a 'zombie' hail from?" she asked, as if she didn't notice.

R didn't seem like he noticed the one-sided non-handshake yet, distracted by the question. He struggled for a name, a specific city, even the airport name he'd seen under the weeds crawling up over the cracked sign. Nothing.

"I...don't...know. Not...here." R said, shrugged, and tried to go on. "No...one knows. We...just are."

"I don't know many who come from here instead of finding themselves here," she said easily, though she had met more tonight, "but those still have a name for where they're from."

None of the names had been places she'd recognized, though; it was more lonely than it had any right to be. Chances were she wouldn't recognize his answer, either, but he seemed eerily familiar to her uncle's monsters, so she might as well check.

"Are you from Asshai? Or Qarth, perhaps?"

R doesn't know the exact city he's from, but he has the feeling those two names don't ring any bells. It's like trying to find out what his name was - he knows what it isn't, like a process of elimination. So no, no Asshai, no Qarth.

The zombie's head bobbles side to side as she shakes it. "Don't...think so. Your...home?"

R would wince if he could. Asha's not to bad so far but the odds of her home staying zombie-free in the long-run don't look good, if you ask him. Corpses have a lot of free-time on their hands.

She couldn't say she wasn't disappointed, no matter how small the chance had been. Even a monster pulled in to destroy Westeros would at least be one person besides her who knew of Westeros at all-- though if she had to pick one to know of her home, better that it's not the one who tried to bite her.

The idea of not knowing where you were from-- it was so foreign to her that it's the first thing she lashes out at, easier to deal with than the fact that even the monsters were different. "Not sure, are you? It's a pity your brain's as dead as the rest of you."

She snorted defensively. "Closer to home than anything here. I'm of the Iron Islands, but we've nothing like you there."

Or, at least, they shouldn't; with her uncle's help, who knew?

R wished he was sure. R also wished he could get really offended at Asha's insulting remark and feel riled up enough to start a fight about it - instead he gave her that idiot stare like he could barely understand what she said, his silence not exactly helping that impression of hers.

"Better...that way," R finally kick-started his groans into words. "We Dead can't...swim. Maybe...that's...why."

Getting bloated and floating around didn't really count.

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oh god I'm so sorry about the lateness

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