A Bloody Valentine: Dance Auction!

[etcircenses]

Who| Everyone in the Capitol!
What| Dance auction!
Where| The top of the Romulus Hotel in the Capitol
When| February 14th, in the evening
Warnings/Notes| None at the moment

It's the Valentines day gala come again, and moreover, it's been over two months since Capitolites have gotten to get up close and personal with their favorite Tributes. With all the curfews and restrictions and fear suddenly cropping up, everyone's due for a little time on the town. And you, the lucky soldiers (and hostages), get to take the briefest of breaks from the battlefield and get away from the Detainment Center for a few hours.

There is a catch however. Two. The first thing is that there can be no mention of war whatsoever to the Capitolites. None. Talk of war will result in talk of execution. Your execution. The second catch is that a number of you have been signed up for dancing auction! You will be expected to dance with your assigned partners (some people may buy dances for an offworlder to dance with another offworlder!), be respectful, and at least slightly enjoyable. Most of all, you are to be a distraction. These people cannot know there is a war going on.

Some years ago, a similar dance auction was held. On top of the tallest hotel in the center of the Capitol, there's just as much scuffle as back then to fit into the elevators, maybe even more so after the long absence of Tributes. Just as back then, the sky has been artificially cleared of clouds, with more stars projected upward in their place. It's chilly out here in the early month of February, but the very floor has been set up with a heating system, keeping the rooftop nice and cozy. The Games are aired and the narrators are nostalgic.

There's something tense about the party. Everyone is smiling too hard, trying their best not to seem nervous or cast too many side-glances over unspoken worries. Small talk is taken up with intense gusto, everyone more eager than ever to forget all worries and woes. What lies are told about what the Tributes have really been up to in their absences are swallowed entirely.

"Ladies and gentlemen," a booming female voice announces from nowhere, "Celebrus Magazine, in conjunction with The Romulus Hotel, are delighted to host the third annual Hunger Games Dance Auction for charity! As a matter of decorum, let us remind you of some ground rules. A guest's actions reflects on the hotel, and the Romulus reserves the right to remove anyone in any position of authority from the premises for any reason, including going beyond the boundaries of a dance auction. Any unseemly, fraudulent or presumptive action on the part of the guests will lead to their immediate dismissal. These Tributes volunteered for charity, and their wishes should be respected.

"You may bid as much as you like, on however many Tributes you like, but please don't promise more assi than you have on-hand. All donations will be taken at the time the winning bidder is announced. Get excited, but don't get too excited!

"And now… may the bidding begin!"

At no point does Celebrus Magazine indicate what sort of charity any of the money generated is going towards. It will be a good hour and a half before the bidding closes and the pairs are announced. In the mean time, everyone is welcome to mingle. And... should a few people slip away from the party for a little while, using the crowd to hide themselves, well, who would really notice? Be sharp and keep low and you may just get away with it. The rest of you may just have a new meaning to the job of being a distraction.

Comments

Dance Winners

[etcircenses]

The winners have been announced! Go forth and dance!

Closed; Leo and Signless

[69problems]

He's back and just in time, too. He tucks the twisted bobby pin from his updo into his pocket and tries to calm his rapidly-beating heart, or at the very least try to make it look as though his adrenaline is all due to hearing his name announced with --

Leonidas Cora? Oh, lord. Is that ship still sailing? Actually, no, it doesn't even surprise him. The forbidden -- the illegal -- nature of it was bound to make it a fan-favorite and now here they both are, reaping the benefits.

He turns to find Leo through the crowd, and gives a small half-shrug. It's not as bad as it could be, Cora.

[lionhearted_victor]

To hear his name paired with Signless would've drawn one hell of a rage-induced rant out of Leo...had certain events not happened in the battlefield. It's a marked change as the troll merely gets an exasperated sigh and a seething glare towards the announcer. Of course this stupid ship was sailing, it's the only thing that, aside from the war and the victory at District 8, keeps him relevant and alive.

But like a good districter of the favored regions, Leo sucked it up and asked in a well fitted tux, "Are we staring or are we dancing?" War has made the proud coach humble, but enough to make this into another round of their game.

[69problems]

"To the point as always," Signless says, the bemused expression on his face shifting sideways into an amused smile. One might almost call it fond -- he's sure the Capitolites who ship them will -- though it's a bit sharp to be just fond. It's the kind of fond where you'd really like to (fondly!) whap someone in the back of the head.

He makes his way over to Leo and extends a tattooed hand.

"I assume you'll want to lead?"

[lionhearted_victor]

"Would you have me in any other way?" Leonidas shot back, fixing his tie for the incoming dance. His telltale limp was taken care of underneath, a brace keeping the damage at bay. And yes, he totally threw that line for the shippers, just in case they had any ideas of what the hell was going on. In reality, Leo had grown fond of the troll prophet, but not enough to engage into what the fanfics say he should.

His dancing style is surprisingly graceful for a man whose pursuit of the blood of his enemies was only rivaled with his pride. Leo was practically manufactured since birth to be the best of both worlds should he ever win an arena and become a Mentor: the exotic Districter and the party-going Capitolite. It's all about adapting, really.

[69problems]

It really is. Three years ago Signless couldn't have done this and now look at him, waltzing as though it's something he was born into. He really has adapted to the Capitol -- adapted almost too well, and sometimes that hits him harder than others. He can't afford to let it hit him now, but it's there waiting in the winds to remind him that he's lost so much of himself to this place. If the Signless from three years ago were to see him now no doubt he'd be horrified. Ah well. The Signless from three years ago is dead.

So instead he smiles at Leo and lets himself be led around the floor, mindful of who's looking and who's talking and who's snapping photos.

"I just know that you like to take charge, so I assumed it would be the same here."

[lionhearted_victor]

This song and dance routine is their private game, it's what they decide to show to the ever hungry Capitolite public. Leo is fully aware of the shipping "wars" (because of course, let's favor the show rather than the actual war ripping the nation apart) and that Signless is with Roland...and this is just a break in the conflict.

"Again, very correct," he toyed with his words and whispered in the troll's ears, "How are you holding up?" He knows the way to make it sound like an intimate, inviting gesture rather than touching base and making sure that someone he's grown to care about is still sane. "Have you seen Deschain?"

[69problems]

His ear twitches as Leo whispers into it, a strangely inhuman reaction that just serves to highlight the fact that he is still and always will be an alien. No matter how well he falls into playing Capitolite, there will always be things that will set him apart.

"Earlier," he affirms. "I've spent most of the night with him. Good for publicity."

Not that ship-teasing with Leo doesn't boost his popularity exponentially, but reinforcing the relationship he's been in for over a year now has much the same effect. People just go crazy about that whole 'love in adversity' angle.

[lionhearted_victor]

Once upon a time, Leo would've considered all offworlders to be part of the Other, those who are not quite there to a Panem citizen. These differences would always be there but Cora has learned to deal with them as they wither away.

"I'm not talking publicity now am I?" he argued back, "We live in troubling times." As much as the Capitol wants people to believe that spending assi and showing patriotic pride will make the big bad rebellion disappear, they both know that's a bold-faced lie.

"Have you been in combat yet?"

[69problems]

Signless's hand, the one one Leo's shoulder, grips just a smidge tighter than is really necessary. They aren't supposed to talk about that -- there is no combat, not as far as the Capitol wants anyone to know about -- and yet here Leo is, doing just that.

It occurs to Signless with a force not unlike being hit by a speeding train that Leonidas Cora is trying to look out for him. This dance isn't just a publicity move for him, it's a chance to touch base in a way they can't most any other time.

He nods, nose almost brushing Leo's cheek. If they're lucky this will be read as another flirtatious gesture and not the affirmation it actually is or, at least, as affirmation of something totally different.

"Yes, several times now. It's ... I'm alright. They've patched me up well enough."

Closed; Albert and Felicity

[talltaleteller]

Mom means well. Mom always means well. Felicity has always insisted that she couldn't possibly ask for a better mom. But still, even if her heart and wallet was in the right place, her aim was... slightly off. While she had been making a run to the bathroom to ensure that her fake eyelashes were still properly glued in place, Candy Yoshida had gone and gotten into a little bidding war for a dance with Albert Heinrich. And won. And had handed it off to her daughter with self-satisfied delight. "Isn't he one of your favorites to write about? Oh, go on! Go, go..."

She could not bear to tell her that she wrote about him in the context of making smoochy-face with his husband, or doing cool cyborg things with his husband, or both of those things at the same time. Her appreciation of the man was that of someone watching a really cool thing at a distance. Not... not being quite so up close. So she's visibly thrown for a loop when called up for her turn with him on the dance floor. But at least her dress is cute and good for curtseying with, which is what she does, putting on her best I-Am-A-Capitolite-And-Am-Loving-Every-Minute-Of-This smile.

[silberfuchs]

He hates this entirely too much. He's forced to leave Jet the wallflower and go dance with another person, someone he's certain will a) be just as vapid a conversationalist as he's come to expect from the Capitol and b) get their toes stepped on at least four times during their stint on the dance floor out of Albert's inability to dance with what he feels is any sort of grace at all.

And she's young, he realizes as he steps up with a rigor mortis smile and offers an ungloved metallic hand for her to take. It's worse that she's young, simpering and far too interested in his personal life like every other woman here who has either expressed a desire to be a fly on the wall in his bedroom or to steal him away from said bedroom to their own with terrible innuendo. At least the cougars were in actuality his junior by decades, but an actual twenty-something just makes him feel like he needs a wash to get the eyes off.

But he'll endure it. He has to. Gotta play nice for appearances or else who knows what they'll do to his husband next time when the only reason is to punish.

"Shall we?"

[talltaleteller]

At least the awkwardness is mutual. A mutual awkwardness is something that she is well-prepared to handle. If Albert had any significant amount of charm/charisma/vague echo of what Gary Epps had once brought to the table, she wouldn't be able to go on with it all.

"Yes! Let's!" She sets her hand in his, and can't conceal some surprise at how that metal hand of his feels. Her mind is suddenly miles away, trying to remember the feel and the weight and just the right words to maybe write about it later... it's several moments later that she snaps back into the moment and onto the dance floor. And catching on that he's not nearly as graceful as she might have once guessed. (So much for that drabble with Albert and Jet dancing the night away...) She's had actual proper ballroom dancing lessons, though, and at least has the agility to not get her feet tromped on.

"Ahahah, easy, don't step so hard! I've got this..." And maybe take the lead instead, if he needs that.

[silberfuchs]

"No, no, I've got it." He does take her advice not to step so hard, more sliding his feet than stomping. He'd learned to dance only for Jet, prepared for that, and he's found that if he tries with anyone other than who taught him - he thinks of Jessica with a pang - or his husband, he gets nervous and forgets roughly half of what he'd learned. He manages after a minute or so, though, not one to let the lady lead, especially one so much shorter than him. It would just look ridiculous.

Though it doesn't stop him looking at their feet now and then.

"I'm sorry, it's just been some time since I danced." Not since his wedding, come to think of it.

[talltaleteller]

"...we've both got it?" She ventures the question carefully, not entirely certainly, but then punctuates it with a giggle. It seemed that they were figuring out a way to get across the floor and through this song without causing each other permanent harm, and sometimes that's an accomplishment worth smiling about. It was nothing like dancing with Gary but...

...nope, not the time for thoughts like that. Smiles! Keep smiling!

"It's been a while for me, too!" And she smiles as though it's all okay, that nothing's wrong, that if they're both a little bad at this, she doesn't mind. She doesn't mind anything. She's gotten so good at pretending it. "It's still fun. To, to dance, I mean! Just... dancing." This is taking a rapid detour away from 'having a good time' to 'sounding like a vacant idiot', though, so steps deftly and tries to take the conversation back somewhere pleasant. "...you'll have to take Jet for a nice dance after this!" Yes, yes, go and be a happy couple. That much is real, in all of this artifice.

[silberfuchs]

"No- well, yes. Of course." He gives an awkward smile, actually awkward and not just annoyed or putting on a farce for prying eyes. Speaking of, as much as she seems to be trying to keep it together, the Felicity seems to be slipping. A crack of sadness showing through the upbeat veneer. Albert averts his eyes a moment so she can pull herself together, but he wants to comfort her somehow instead. He's not sure how though, not knowing what's wrong, so he allows her to gather herself instead.

And then she mentions Jet and Albert's eyes dart across the room to his husband, also bought and paid for, sliding along the floor with grace that belies the mess the Capitol has made of his psyche, the pieces Albert's been trying to fit back into place.

"Perhaps I will," he answers distantly, a similar sadness to the one that had crossed her flitting across his expression too. Loss. Longing.

When he speaks again it's oh so quietly, barely air between them, much less able to be caught by any listening ears. "Who did you lose?"

[talltaleteller]

Feelings are funny, slippery things. As good as she's become at wrangling them, they don't always behave how they should. She's not sure if Albert's look away to get her expression in order is lucky or done on purpose, but she takes advantage of it. The everything-is-fine face is back in full-form when he looks to her again.

"Promise?" It's a bit of silly teasing that she hopes comes across as silly teasing... but her careful face softens into something a little surprised and sympathetic. Why... why wouldn't a dance with Jet be a perfectly happy thing? What... what was going on with the Tributes, now? Between that thought and Albert's quickly-whispered question, it's a wonder that she can keep her expression as even as it is.

"...Gary. Gary Epps." And though part of her wants to rush to explain who he is and what he means and all of the complicated everything, there is just no time for it. She had been known as one of his more vocal fangirls, and even made the news for being one of the superfans at his makeshift park memorial... but all of what really mattered, the Capitol at large didn't know. And didn't need to. That was hers to keep. His. Theirs.

cw: holocaust parallels

[silberfuchs]

He remembers Gary. Not personally, but he remembers Gary as being one of the all too young victims of the Games, of the Capitol.

No. Lay blame where it's due. Of Snow's.

And perhaps Felicity is a victim too, in her way. The way the entire Capitol is, the entirety of Panem. None asked to be born here, none asked for a life of mindnumbing excess that hides obvious injustices. You can't speak up, can't speak out, not if you value the illusion of autonomy, not if you want to keep yourself safe.

First they came for the Socialists...

He smiles, a smile to mirror the one she gives at the silly jibe of 'promise?' but it's a tight thing that holds no mirth. If anything it holds sympathy.

"I'm sorry for what's happened, though I can't say I apologize for exactly what's happening because of it. You know, don't you?" Still quiet, still moving with her across the floor, keeping that smile up for appearances so they can have this candid conversation.

[talltaleteller]

It's easy to smile when someone else is smiling, even if it's not a real smile. Her expression soon mirrors Albert's, slipping into that cover-up state easily. It's the Capitol, who actually has a real smile on, these days?

"Nothing you should say sorry for." Smile, smile... is that too much to even say with a smile? She loved to see all the heroic, funny, fascinating Tributes that had been brought in, but a part of her always knew that they suffered more than she could ever really know. "I... I can guess." And she gives a tiny little laugh, as though something funny and inconsequential had been said. "I'm so lucky to get to come here, and see everything, and dance, so... so I'll make the most of it until my luck runs out."

Leo and Jet

[metalicarus]

He didn't know who'd bought it, maybe it was a pity buy for how secluded Jet had made himself the whole evening, maybe it was just a joke. Either way, just enough assi had been spent to get Jet dancing with Leo for a short time and only after he'd danced with the person chosen for him before. That was fine, Jet could wait, if only because he wasn't in much of a mind to do much else.

He stood at the sidelines, eyes vacantly watching Albert dance with a young girl and Leo dance with a troll and everyone else there mingle around like something wasn't terribly wrong. Not that Jet could be bothered, he couldn't even remember what was wrong when he wasn't sure which thoughts belonged in his head and which ones didn't.

It wasn't until man and troll finally parted that Jet went up to Leo, only half aware of himself doing it. Once he was in front of (his friend? Coach? Rival? Enemy? Someone important, he couldn't remember which wads right.) his eyes lit up a bit more and a smile ghosted on his lips as he offered a hand.

"May I have this dance?" This he could do, at least, he could dance as easy as breathing, thank god he didn't have to think about that one.

you monster.

[lionhearted_victor]

Leonidas was minding his business trying to drink himself into something like sleep or conformance when he heard that voice again. The last time both he and Jet saw each other in the battlefield, they were on opposite ends. This damn Tribute that caused him so much grief and made him question everything was now docile...

"You may," Cora's eyes were wide with surprise and even some horror as he realized what this meant: The Capitol broke Jet Link. The soaring soldier who could've been his one way into Thirteen is Snow went back in his word, now a mere date. He took the hand and began to sway with the music.

um i'm pretty sure it is you who is the monster

[metalicarus]

Jet slipped easily into form and led them into a simple dance, something undeserving of attention. That was a good thing, he felt. It meant he could ask the questions he had in his head.

"Your name is Leo. Leonidas Cora. You're part of District 2. You're important to me...but I don't remember why." His expression turned troubled, like it hurt him that he couldn't remember. "I feel...like I need to tell you I'm sorry. And that's not something I say usually." He worked a small smile onto his expression, more for Leo's sake than his own. "Mind helping a guy out here?"

gladly accepts blame.

[lionhearted_victor]

It's worse than Leo thought for a second, he can't speak. Jet was brainwashed into obedience...and now he's remembering who he was. The old coach would not have hesitated to bring the cyborg further into the Capitol's side, but that man died in District 7. He had to subvert, it had to be done for the sake of District 2.

"We had a run-in during the battle for District 7...it went poorly," Cora disguised the truth as a jibe at his own failings but he had to try and help, "I was your coach during the Arenas."

[metalicarus]

"Coach." The word felt strange on his tongue, but not wrong. Like it was a new thing and maybe, with everything else, it had been. But it sounded right when looking at this man. Feelings sprouted up, small things Jet had to reach for at the back of his mind to try and bring them forward.

It didn't go well...he could remember an argument, desperation to be listened to and not just heard and it sparked one of those feelings to the front of his thoughts. "I wanted...want to protect you. To help." They were friends, at least Jet thought of him as such. He was- "-the only guy in Panem I care about and the guy worth saving his country for." He'd fought because it was right, but also because he knew someone who it mattered to. District 2 mattered. These particular puzzle pieces seemed easy to find, at least. A small blessing.

[lionhearted_victor]

"I need no protection," he huffed like a petulant child who had no shame in showing his less than personable ways. He didn't want to admit that he really did need that assistant, that he was seeing the Capitol for the opportunistic tyrant that it was. Worse, what was once a source of price for Cora was now a symbol of the corruption he allowed to take place. The Hunger Games were not for unifying, they were for propaganda against everything that Panem stood.

For some, this conclusion was as clear as day, but Leonidas was raised with the proverbial fog over his eyes, never seeing more than what the Capitol allowed him to see.

"But...I appreciate the thought..." he wasn't a callous monster either. He remembered Jet's heartfelt pleas and they still survived in this shell.