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

R had no idea where he's going with this, the zombie shrugging. "Escort...said to watch...old ones. Homework."

The expression on R's face says all it needs to. He might be a maneater and a killer, but that's because he's stuck like this, not because he gets off on it like Karis and he'd rather go stare at a wall and get acquainted if he had a choice. R's face slowly curdles into a miserable look, a little vacant and a lot like he'd rather talk about something else. Why is Aunamee asking this? What, does he watch? Have the same homework? Worried about how crappy R's doing on that front?

R can't say he's sorry. He's seen what's probably a stupid amount of people die over the years - seeing it replayed with some announcer going on and going on about Poor Mary Ann's mistake here, here, and here is something that seems like overkill.

"You said...teach?" R asks, a little apprehensive now. He trusts Aunamee, sure. That doesn't mean he's that comfortable sitting here like a overgrown, rotting kid waiting for the ball to drop.

It is delightful, drawing this out. It is like curling his tongue around a raspberry snow cone, picking up little particles of ice and flavor and fruit. But he knows this cannot go on forever, and as a final gift to himself, he answers R's question with only a smile. One final mystery.

And then he leans forward. His hand reaches for the television on the wall and he pushes the on switch with all the grace and deliberateness of a dancer.

It's a highlight reel. This one belongs to R.

It flicks on, R at first not sure what he's looking at. Then it clicks. A camera fixed on what he'd been up to during the Arena, some of it like it's watching someone else in his clothes and his body - others though, others he remembers. Him trying to chew up that man's boot and getting kicked in the face. Nearly hunting Howard. Dogpiling Beck with the other zombies. His sad, non-friendship with Air.

And then there's Julie. The zombie perks up. It's edited together by a pro, R staring at the screen with wide eyes and something that almost looks like interest in his rigor mortis face, bathed in the carefully selected music. His lips part in wonder. It starts to drift up into something like a smile as he fixes on Julie and Howard and what it's like to see new friends meeting.

Then Hyperion pops up, this dark figure working his way across the bridge and their little group so busy hanging out they don't notice the Tribute who tailed R all the way back. R starts to stiffen, his mouth twitching like it wants to peel back from his teeth, the closest Aunamee's probably seen to him getting upset. His eyebrows start to knit together, shoulders hunching.

And they haven't even gotten to the best part yet.

Facial expressions remind Aunamee of musical notes. A smooth shift in one direction. A jerky shift in another. Muscles following muscles following muscles. It is interesting, trying to judge the emotions of the poor dead boy (how did he die? wondered Aunamee. who took that first bite out of that fragile skin?) and because Aunamee is in a good mood right now, he thinks of it as more of a challenge than a frustration.

"Given your tendency to lose yourself," he says, a soft lull, "these kinds of observations are especially useful."

He drags his thumb down the screen, obscuring (and then revealing) Hyperion's face.

"You knew he was trouble. From the start. You had an intuition."

Edited 2013-06-27 21:38 (UTC)

R wonders if that’s true. It seems true when it’s put like that. R’s never really pinned himself as the intuition kind of corpse, but maybe Aunamee’s right. Could be a gut feeling. There’s no rule that says your guts have to be intact for it to still count. Now R’s starting to get antsy for a zombie as he watches the encounter replay out from several cameras pointed at the scene, his mouth frozen in a frown a few muscle spasms away from going into a snarl. This. He remembers this. How could he forget? Even that general Dead fog doesn’t do much to dull it.

Aunamee’s voice serves to focus him right on Hyperion, threatening them with a lance, like a little nudge in the right direction.

It’s when TV-R shuffles off like an idiot (R wants to scream at the TV, tell him to say and fight and stupid being a – a corpse) where it goes from bad to worse.

Howard; stabbing himself in the throat. Red splashed all over the place as his little body twitches. Julie.

Julie.

R remains frozen, too horrified to even sway in place, as he watches Julie get run through like it’s no big deal. The lance skewers in and out with barely any resistance. He can actually see that moment when that light behind Julie’s face, the one he thinks he fell in love with, goes out. Gone, as clean and permanent as a headshot. He doesn’t even register when the screen blacks out to a swelling of music, everyone’s faces flashing across the screen with final stats and Gamemaker scores.

“….Why…show me?” R gasps out, turning toward Aunamee.

There’s a little nugget forming in the back of R’s brain – whatever’s left of it – ready to be nurtured to something more. It hardens as he remembers Hyperion, that regret when he didn’t feed on him when he had the chance.