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thecapitol2016-02-10 08:41 pm
etcircenses) wrote in thecapitol2016-02-10 08:41 pm
A Bloody Valentine: Dance Auction!
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.
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.
no subject
"N-no no no, of course not sir. You um...you've more then proven your dedication and um...usefulness to the Capitol."
The old Harley Quinn might have meant that as an insult. Harleen just didn't want to get dragged away by peacekeepers for pissing off someone so well connected. The pressure had her wilting despite how mild it was.
no subject
Harley had been wild, if not out-right unpredictable, and aggravating in her tendency to make things more complicated. (The buttons, Harley, why had you always pushed the buttons?) But she'd been quick, clever - a challenge. And she had always been as ready to meet one, as be one herself.
He wondered if the task at hand might be beyond her now.
"And you, Ms. Quinzel?" he asked, voice lowering, just a fraction though he continued to stand straight and firm at her side. "Have you proved your worth?"
no subject
"Well um...I suppose...I mean, logically I would be dead if not...s-so I suppose The Capitol must have some reason..." She trailed off and found herself looking up at him again even as it chilled her blood. He was powerful, he was intelligent and he was dangerous. All thinks that used to thrill Harleen when she had been a doctor, and even more once she had become Harley. But now it just made her feel weak and scared. Part of her constantly aware that he could (and had) killed her with his bare hands.
"But I-I um...I'm always waiting to be helpful just in case." She added in case that wasn't loyal enough.
no subject
"Good," he purred. "I'm so pleased to hear it."
He did shift then, hands folding neatly behind his back - the very picture of ease.
"As it stands, I do have something you might be able to assist me with."
no subject
Wait what did he say?
"Oh um...of course." Then something misfired in her brain and she asked a question rather then simply waiting for the request.
"Is this...um...is this official Peacekeeper assistance? Or um...Mr. Wesker Assistance?"
Realizing that was perhaps stepping out of line she made a sound like a mouse being stepped on and quickly brought a drink to her lips to keep from saying anything else stupid mumbling "Unlessofcourseyoucan'ttellme." mashing her back peddling words together before smothering them under fruit punch.
no subject
"I think, Ms. Quinzel, I shall leave that up to your discretion." He spoke even more carefully still. Slowly and softly, all but taking her hand to lead her along. "I have received word of a most interesting location here in the Capitol, not terribly far from where we stand at this very moment."
He looked at her, through those flat, black lenses.
"Should you feel up to the task, you should pay it a visit - and then share your findings with... whomever you think it would benefit most."
no subject
The words were thick and heavy and dark. It was like Wesker was coating all her anxiety with hot fudge and it was smothering down her nerves enough that her mind was able to process the words. He was giving her an address, something to investigate. Something that could be of use to...to who? The Rebellion? How would she even get in contact with them anymore?
But...but this was an opportunity wasn't it? What would she do?
No wait...Harleen was in charge now not her And Harleen used to be the kind of ambitious woman who took opportunity by the throat.
But who was she now?
"I...I appreciate that sir." And she found herself leaning into him a little more while she thought. It was an unconscious motion at first but it did make things look more...intimate to anyone who might be watching.
"It's thoughtful of you."
no subject
He paused, just long enough to make it clear what he was about to say was of great importance, then when he spoke again, it was in that same soft, slow way. Urging her to pay attention with nothing more than his tone.
"Tonight has been a long-awaited escape for the Capitol and her fair citizens. They have been looking forward to, and are certain to enjoy all the trouble that has been made for them. In particular, I'm sure the dance portion will be very popular. If you were to be absent, you would likely be missed, and, however helpful I aim to be, I will not be able to soothe any hard-feelings you incur."
A flat, firm, warning.
no subject
Her skin crawls being this close to someone so dangerous and the alarm bells in her brain are ringing clearly. Time is ticking! Death is lurking! What are you going to do?
What should she do? A wild voice from the dark depths of her brain screamed Kiss him you fool! And she felt a stabbing pain in her skull as that voice was smothered once more.
Kissing him would be silly, impulsive and confusing. All the sorts of things she used to be.
But not anymore. She lowers her gaze and separates from him swallowing hard.
"W-well...I wouldn't want to let anyone down." She reasons in a coded way of saying she understands. A lump of sadness and regret is now sitting firmly in the waves of fear washing over her. She's not even just a shell of her former self, she's a shell of who she was before she lost her mind.
But even like this, with what pathetic scraps of her personality was left maybe she could still do something good.
"Thank you again."
no subject
And he smiled, a flash of sharp, white teeth; pleased, at least, that they seemed to have reached some sort of understanding. With any luck, his faith wouldn't be misplaced.
Elegantly, he offered her a half-bow.
"Until later, Mrs. Quinzel."
And then, as simply as he'd appeared, he disappeared again, fading to the crowd.