Now I Got These Alligators On My Feet [OPEN]

[pimpcanes]

WHO| Black Tom and open!
WHAT| Black Tom is obnoxious as all hell as he prepares for nuptials.
WHEN| A little after the Crowning.
WHERE| Everywhere around the Capitol, the D10 Suite, your doorway.
WARNINGS| Abuse of police authority?

To say Tom's being obnoxious about his upcoming wedding would be a wild understatement. That would be like calling the ocean 'a little damp' or Caesar Flickerman 'a little showy'. Tom's spent the last week being completely insufferable, making a show of having his belongings moved out so he can go live in the castle he received for his Crowning ("it's my third castle, really," he tells anyone who'll listen) and flipping through men's fashion magazines less out of curiosity than because he enjoys ripping pages out, balling them up, and tossing them aside as "complete garbage" for an audience.

Though the denizens of District Ten are taking the brunt of Tom's behaviors, but he takes his egomania out for the odd walk, too. People minding their own business are shanghaied into giving him advice about what the most fashionable styles for facial hair are, and if he should dye his greys out or keep them to look distinguished; other Tributes get asked to model in different tuxedos to see how they look without Tom having to change out of whatever he's in; other Mentors get quizzed on the symbolism of various flowers.

Some of the unlucky souls who haven't answered his and Molotov's RSVPs will find his rapping on their door, then brandishing handcuffs if they're fool enough to open up. "I hate to tell you this, but it turns out you're under arrest, boyo," he says (regardless of the gender of his target).

Comments

[occasio]

Honestly, with the number of times Phi ends up being stopped going from Point A to Point B, one more person haranguing her about her input on dumb day-to-day details of their life isn't that much out of the ordinary. There's a low level of obnoxiousness prevalent throughout the city, and Tom's insistence on asking her opinion on his facial hair doesn't faze her any more than the other requests by random Capitolites who can't seem to function without social input of some kind. In fact, given her unfamiliarity with the Capitol and her fellow tributes in general, she just assumes that he is a Capitolite anyway.

"I'm pretty sure bright orange is in fashion right now," she replies in the most deadpan tone imaginable. "With black tiger stripes. Forget the greys altogether and dye it that. It sounds fierce." Not. But she's not interested in giving actual advice so much as making them go away.

[pimpcanes]

Tom takes this one hundred percent seriously, because he's ridiculous and the Capitol is ridiculous and this wedding is going to be so over-the-top that it might implode on itself, if he has his way.

"Do you think so? Molotov does love tigers quite so, and it might match the decor, if we decide to have them standing guard around the aisle. Bengal, of course. Albino tigers are too trendy these days."

He strokes his chin, looking at her, remembering the mental notes he made watching her performance in the Arena. "I've had my eye on you, lass, so you know. You caught my attention when you competed."

[occasio]

Ugh. Rich people. It's a feat of impressive strength that she doesn't wrinkle her nose in distaste. Bengal tigers at a wedding? An unkind image of the tigers getting loose and eating the party guests flickers through her thoughts before she brushes it aside. The tigers don't deserve that.

Phi is fully prepared to excuse herself from this budding conversation before it can fully take off, when Tom manages to say something that actually catches her attention in a way that sends up red flags. People confessing that they've been watching her has a tendency to do that.

"Should I be flattered? Or was the rest of the arena just that boring?"

I lost this notif, I'm sorry!

[pimpcanes]

That's assuming Tom wouldn't be incredibly amused by some of the guests being eaten by tigers. So long as he, the bride and the flowergirl don't end up cat chow, he's alright with running the risks of live animals at the reception.

"You should. I'm a busy man - I don't have time to waste valuable energy on people who don't look like they want to win." He straightens his coat and gestures to the space ahead of them. "Walk with me, will you?"

it's okay, i apparently fell off the face of the earth for a month

[occasio]

Phi has never been one to trust anyone. That was Sigma's thing. He was the one who could find the good in people and consider them his friend in the span of a second. Phi, on the other hand, considered herself a pragmatist. Sure, this man seemed like an asshole and Sigma would undoubtedly disapprove of associating with him, but he was an asshole who seemed to like her. That could be useful.

"Alright." Phi turns in the direction that he gestures, waiting for him to take the first step and then following at his side. "What's on your mind? Aside from facial hair."