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thecapitol2013-04-24 12:27 pm
- aunamee,
- sigma klim,
- ✘ ariadne,
- ✘ asha greyjoy,
- ✘ atticus bell,
- ✘ baron bartlett,
- ✘ beck,
- ✘ blaine anderson,
- ✘ chris redfield,
- ✘ donatello,
- ✘ eddie blake,
- ✘ eponine thenardier,
- ✘ eva salazar,
- ✘ gaila,
- ✘ glinda upland,
- ✘ howard bassem,
- ✘ jim kirk,
- ✘ julie grigio,
- ✘ maximus,
- ✘ momoko ryugasaki,
- ✘ neffa a reyeth,
- ✘ parker,
- ✘ peeta mellark,
- ✘ phil coulson,
- ✘ primrose everdeen,
- ✘ pruna,
- ✘ r,
- ✘ some ovmennet,
- ✘ thane krios,
- ✘ timaeus nadir,
- ✘ tohru adachi,
- ✘ topher brink,
- ✘ valeria rushlit
(no subject)
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
no subject
But when he sees someone he knows, and who knows him, but not in the way a lot of people here knew him, well. Peeta had to go see how his... whatever he was, was doing. He finds him when they're close to the TVs.
"Isn't all this something?" Maybe he's asking about the food. Maybe he's asking about the people and the party. Or maybe he's asking about the games. Who knows?
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"It's...not...my thing," R admits. "My Escort...said...had to...pay atten...shun. Homework."
The zombie slurs that last bit, distracted as the editors for this segment start following a man he knows - Beck, the guy he killed with the other two zombies, only he's alive in this sequence and trying to find a place to rest for the night. He looks a lot better pre-zombies, his head intact. R looks away guiltily, choosing to stare over at Peeta and finding him...safer. If that makes any sense.
All he know is Peeta looks really snappy dressed like that, like his stylist knew what s/he was doing and he looks like he knows how to manage. R's almost jealous.
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"I can't think of a worse homework," Peeta says quietly, looking just as guilty for a moment before looking back and smiling. "At least your Escort isn't giving you paperwork to do." That idea makes him alarmed.
"I hope not, anyway. You shouldn't have to take notes during a party, that's akin to torture." Torture to a Capitol citizen, anyway.
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"She said...I need...tactics. Learn from...others." R has no idea what it's like doing paperwork since he can't read or write. From the tone of Peeta's voice, he's guessing it sucks a lot. "Save me?"
R tries to hit Peeta with a grin that's full of crooked zombie teeth and blackened gums. Thankfully the muzzle blocks the worst of it. Peeta hooked him up before back at the Training Center. Now that R's pinned him as decent, not the kind to headshot him, he trusts Peeta enough to look to him for help.
no subject
Normal things. It's a pretty decent grin that he can see from behind that muzzle, and Peeta already knew that R was a good guy. He gives him a serious nod with a not-serious smile.
"Don't worry. I've got your back, I'll help you in any way I can," A smile to a grin. "You wouldn't know how to paint, would you?"
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"Thanks...you're awsss...aweso - cool," R's groan was downright relieved. "I...don't know. Haven't ever...tried."
R was willing to give it a shot - he just couldn't promise he'd be any good at it because he was stuck in a body that a kindergartener could run circles around (and probably out-count) and the best he could manage was finger-painting. Maybe. At least he knew for a fact that Peeta wasn't the kind of guy to point fingers and laugh, so there was that. The zombie lumbered to his feet, turning his back on the screen as they began replaying the Cornucopia and faced Peeta. Peeta looked so sharp he could cut someone if he didn't watch it.
Even a zombie felt under-dressed, and R was wearing something flashier than Peeta was. He could picture his Escort burning with jealousy.
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"You're pretty cool yourself," Peeta smiled. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the cornucopia come into view, and he looked away from it. He'd had enough of it, especially right now. Maybe they could pretend for a little bit that they were normal people? That they spent every day on gorgeous boats with beautiful people and food? Just having a normal day.
"It's pretty easy to paint, just don't tell anyone else I said that," He began in a mock conspiratorial whisper that wasn't any softer then normal. "But it could save your life. It saved mine, I don't see why it wouldn't save everyone else's." Despite it not being entertaining.
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R tried to beam behind his muzzle, way too pleased at the compliment, and that was about when his corpse decided it was done smiling today; his vein-mottled mouth froze into a half-smile, almost more of a snarl, and then drooped back to its usual dumb zombie-stare. Oh well, he tried. R leaned forward at the whisper without realizing it, almost feeling like he was part of something when Peeta talked to him like that. Apparently Peeta's "quaint District 12" charm worked on Capitol citizens and zombies.
"I...won't," R promised, Peeta's theatrics flying over his head because he was nowhere as good at this show-biz stuff. He was more face value. Literal's the name of the game.
He appreciated Peeta trying to help him out, although if they were talking the whole survival thing here, R was pretty sure they had very different takes on it.
"I think...it's too...late for...that. But..." R hurried to keep moaning before Peeta could get a word in, nearly tripping over his tongue in his rush. He didn't want it to look like he was turning down the guy. "I'd...like to...try? Be like...you."
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Was it rude to ask if this guy was already dead? Or if there was something wrong with him? Because there was... there were things Peeta was not acquainted with, and he wasn't entirely sure that it was just how people from wherever R was from were. Or maybe they all were like this, but there was. Something off. It didn't make him like the guy any less, because he really did. But.
His face only showed some polite confusion, which was all he was feeling right then. It really did help that Peeta's normal demeanor was close to the happiness he showed everyone else.
"Isn't it better to be yourself? I'm flattered," He put a hand on his own chest. "Really. I am. But being yourself is... so much better. But hey, you could find out that you actually like painting, or... I don't think tying knots is either of our favorite things." He smiled. "What do you like to do?"
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R thought about Peeta's words of wisdom there, thinking he liked them and not just for the sound or the way he pitched his voice or the fact he needed to pause and think and breathe. Not just that. It was what he actually said. R tried to take Peeta's words to heart despite not having a functioning one, the zombie's face looking even more far away than usual as he decided those were words to live by.
How did Peeta get this smart anyway? He was like - like...R strained to remember a name Howard threw around like it was someone special. It stuck out because Howard repeated it until R nodded and pretended it meant something to him. "Yoda", was it? Yeah, that's the one. Peeta was like Yoda.
"Knots are...mgggh...." R left it at that. He perked up when Peeta brought up hobbies. R had a grand total of two hobbies but that didn't mean he couldn't take them seriously. "I...listen. Music? And...collect things. I'm...good at that."
no subject
But Peeta really did believe what he said. He believed most things that he said, at least the ones that stuck out as true. When he talked about how much he liked the Capitol, how much he appreciated what they'd done for him; that wasn't true. But when he talked about how much he loved Katniss, how sad he was for those who were gone, how people should try to be themselves; that's when it was true. You could improve some things (manners matter!) but everyone liked it when someone was themselves. And he wasn't just talking about sponsors.
"No knots," Peeta agreed. They could leave it at that, and leave the knots for other people. "You like music? What kind of music? Music like the kind here, or something you have back home?" He perked up at that. He loved music, but had no talent for it at all. But Katniss could sing, even if she didn't want to nowadays (not for him, at least), so someone liking music was automatically good in his book. Maybe he shouldn't ask so many questions, but.
"Collecting things could be good. Do you collect just... anything? Or something specific?"
no subject
The zombie looked dimly relieved at “no knots”. Totally fine with him.
“Stuff…back home. Old…ies, Julie said. I say…classics. Not…like…music here. Doesn’t…count.”
Even if the sound system here was nice, it didn’t hold a candle to his vinyl collection back home and maybe R’s being snobby but he thinks it’s true. The Capitol does music too loud, too over the top and most of the voices he heard singing sound like they went through a blender and back; they don’t even sound Living. Maybe that’s the style here. All R knows is it’s not his thing and he’d rather beat a retreat somewhere with some Rat Pack and call it a day. He could teach Peeta here a thing or two about good music if he had his collection. R shrugged, shoulders slouching.
“I collect…things I like. What…catches…my eye. It’s…rrr….random,” R said. Most of the other zombies tended to stay away from wandering into his 747 – maybe his hoarder’s nightmare creeped even them out. “It’s…something to do.”
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"Maybe there's some way to get music from your home, here. It'd be nice to hear it." He would love to be taught about good music, he really would. It was awful that these people were brought here like this, but he thought that so long as they were here, they could teach them things. The people of Panem could use a few lessons.
"Anything? Maybe there's a reason for what you collect. Some kind of beauty that only you know about. It's not a bad hobby. What do you do when you're not collecting things?"
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"I...wish!" Peeta would've loved Sinatra, R was sure of it. Once you heard his voice crooning, felt it shivering and dancing along the air and cutting through that silence, there was no turning back. Fan for life. R wished right now he could grab Peeta by the hand, lead him through Arrivals and out onto the tarmac to his 747 and the record player. If only! "I think...you would love...it. Too...bad."
R was lost in that "too bad", convinced Peeta was a Sinatra-fan only he didn’t know it yet. What the human said next made him look up. He’d wondered about that, assumed that sure, everything he collected from the bobble-heads to REM must’ve meant something to him but so far nothing jogged his memory. Just glimpses, vague impressions of something missing. Stuff he liked because it caught the light a certain way or squeaked or even just the texture. R got that warm feeling spreading through his rotting guts when Peeta gave that hobby his approval, unaware he’d been starving for it until now.
“I…listen. Ride…escala…tors. Try to…keep busy. Occupy.” R wasn’t ready to admit a lot of his time was occupied by eating anyone stupid enough to be stuck outside the walls.
He liked Peeta too much. He was even willing to try lying, even white-lying, for this human.
“What…about you? Do you…also…collect?” R hurriedly changed the subject, a clumsy attempt to steer the attention back to Peeta before this wandered into dangerous territory.
no subject
His smile may have faltered just a little at that sad thought, but it brightened when R mentioned escalators. "I've ridden on one of those before! Once, before, we don't have them back home, but they have them here. And elevators, I'd never ridden an elevator before coming here." Sort of a stupid thing to be excited about, but it had been a lot of fun.
"Well... no, I don't really collect. There's nothing to collect back home, not like here," Peeta smiled. "I love to paint. There's something about it that I find really relaxing. You can do whatever you love, here." So long as it's approved by the government, of course.
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For a corpse, R could move fast sometimes. That or he was desperate. Maybe an mix of both. His sense of timing died with the rest of him, so he was still trying to figure it out what was what. At least he had the sense that the rare people like Peeta were patient and understanding to let him indulge at playing human. Like this could all work out in the end. Right now R could almost believe it.
"Paint..." R couldn't say he'd seen that many paintings. "I'd...like...to see. One day?"
R didn't seem to get Peeta's layers in his comments, taking it all at face value because that was what zombies did. Doing what you love. The whole concept bowled him over. If it wasn't for the Arenas, R would've been happy to be stuck here.
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He wasn't sure how easy R's Escort might be to escape from, but he was pretty well covered with Effie. Peeta would feel really awful about leaving Katniss with her, but then, Effie had more to school Katniss with then she did with him. He didn't have to go through lessons on how to sit like a lady and walk in a dress.
"You'd like to see them, really?" He asked curiously, but obviously pleased. He hadn't had much of a chance to show them off, at least not recently, and he liked it. Introducing something new to someone. "You know, I was talking with another Victor earlier about doing what we love. She said I should see about maybe painting the rooms for the other tributes." It was very easy to see how relaxed he was, when he got to talk about something he wanted to, rather then what he had to.
"You'll see, when you win the games. So many opportunities will open up. You have to have a talent, so you can do what you like to do."
Mind if we wrap up here?
He wanted to say that he was writing this all down because he got the feeling this was all valuable tips here, stuff to keep the average Tribute sane and in one piece physically and mentally between Arenas. R liked the idea of having a Thing to do, although he was pretty sure he was screwed in the talent department himself: he couldn't write, paint, compose music, ride a bike or even remember enough about movies to discuss them with someone like Peeta.
But he could enjoy a long, wandering walk. By now R felt he'd exhausted what little words he could groan out. He needed a breather. It didn't mean he wanted to do it alone.
"Let's...go for...walk," R said. "O...kay?"
Works for me! Officially ended!
And there wasn't anything to do beyond try to keep him alive. But he wasn't in his district, and it wasn't his job. But Peeta wanted to see him win. So when he was asked if he wanted to go for a walk?
"Sounds good to me," Peeta smiled. "Lead the way."