thecapitol | (no subject)

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

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Eponine lets go of the muzzle in alarm as they stylist begins to scold her, but she steps closer, hissing,

"He cannot BREATHE, Madame. You cannot make him wear something that will kill him. Your clothes are silly if he cannot breathe."

She immediately goes to undo the muzzle again. Unlike the stylist, Eponine has completely forgotten about the cameras possibly watching her and she wouldn't particularly care anyway. This man was almost a stranger to her, but he was Howard's friend, and that was enough. She'd help him if she could.

R opens his mouth to say he's past the point of suffocating when his Escort huffs over his head, offended, and looks like she's seconds away from slapping Eponine's hands away audience be damned.

She instead settles for not-to-subtly shifting him out of the girl's reach like R's nothing more than decomposing luggage. Her smile becomes even more strained.

"He's fine! I'm his Escort, I ought to know!" She buckles on the muzzle tight, movements so fast she could chip a nail if she isn't careful. R's tried to take nips at his Escort enough in the past that she takes that part seriously. "It stays on or I'm afraid I'll have to have a word with your Escort, honey."

R wants to sigh. Between his Escort trying to fend off Eponine, he feels like he's in the middle of a zombie tug-of-war.

Eponine scowls. By the end of this party, she can see she's going to be in a lot of trouble with a lot of people... plans to swap dresses, stealing door knobs - stealing a BOAT! Was it worth getting in trouble for Howard's friend as well?

No.

She steps back a little, an ugly look still on her face.
"Your clothes are silly and uncomfortable. He is in pain - can't you see? Or do you not care? That is it, I think."

And then she looks back at R. "Why do you not speak up for yourself?" She doesn't want to fight his battles for him.

The scowl isn't a good look for Eponine. It's the kind of expression you wouldn't want your face to get stuck in.

"But...I'm not...in...pain," R gives Eponine his usual unfocused stare. It's almost touching she was worried about a stranger, though. "I didn't...have...anything...to say."

As much as the muzzle gets in the way, R can see why it's there and he'd rather have it on if it means it'll stop him from taking chunks out of people like Eponine. Sure, he hasn't been starving like back at the Arena. All the same, it can't help to have a little extra insurance. If it wasn't for the perfume clogging up his nose, he probably could smell that Life radiating off the girl and maybe his Escort wouldn't have arrived in the nick of time.

"Then... why do you breathe so strange, Sir? You sound like you're in pain."

She gives the escort another scornful look before she goes to sit down again. Let them talk about her. She doesn't care.

The Escort returns the stare, tosses her head slightly, and decides to give them space, wandering off to a table a few feet away but close enough to hover and watch (and possibly eavesdrop). R slouches against the couch.

"Always...sound like...this. It's...okay," R tries reassuring Eponine. It's hard to sound encouraging when you're gasping and wheezing behind a muzzle, but he tries. "I don't want...you in...trouble."

She shrugs. "What can they do, Sir? They already kill me in their Games. I am not afraid."

She still looks concerned for R though. "Howard did not say... though I don't suppose he would... I am sorry if you are in trouble now, Monsieur."

That's a pretty good point, R stymied all over again.

"I'll...suf...suffer through...clothes she picks. Not...big deal," R tries to flop his hand toward the Escort. He decides now would be an awesome time to change the subject. "Howard...really...likes you."

"Do you think so?"

That makes her smile. It's a shy smile, but it's there nonetheless.

"I do not know why. He is a nice boy, Howard."

There she goes: Eponine's smiling now. It beats that look darkening her face from before. "You should...do something...special. You and...Howard."

Something just the two of them. Granted, no one told R about the boat stealing.

"Special? Like what, Sir? We... we eat ice cream together at night sometimes. I like ice cream - it is one of my favourite foods, I think. I had not had it before I came here."

Her speech is quick, disjointed. She suddenly feels nervous; her stomach curls and contracts when she thinks of Howard. Is it love? Or guilt that she does not love him as much as he seems to love her? She doesn't know - and doesn't want to question it too closely.

R struggles to think of anything like that. That sounds vaguely like date material to him - Howard's off to a good start, actually. At least R thinks so. He's not sure how much that counts considering the whole zombie thing.

"Ask...him about...Elvis. Howard is...an Elvis...guy."

He wishes he could offer more ideas to Eponine, but he hasn't had the chance to go shuffling off for dating advice from the pros.

"Elvis?" Eponine is blank.

"Monsieur? What is Elvis?"

She wishes she could be more help too - but Eponine's social skills are pretty much non existent anyway.

Man. R can see he needs to get Eponine caught up to speed: if they could get back to his house at the airport, he could've marathoned her through all of the King's greatest hits.

"Elvis...Pres...ley. The King. He...makes girls...swoon," R struggles to explain here. "Howard's...favorite. Maybe you're...his Good Luck Charm?"

It's either that or the rabbit's foot Howard keeps, but R remembers the look on his face when he was talking about Eponine earlier.

She is no clearer.

"I do not like kings... They are bad men." She trails off; she has no idea what to say.

"His good luck charm?" She brightens considerably. "Do you think so? Nobody has called me good luck before."

"Not...a real king. It's hard to...explain."

R sighs then. It comes out in a wheeze of air pushed through his ruined lungs. Explanations aren't coming on the Elvis front - he doesn't have the words or the memories to get past whatever he's gleaned from his LPs.

"Yes. I think...you are," R says, 100% zombie honesty. Cross his Dead heart.

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