The shocking and thrilling adventures!

[gamemakers]

Who| Everyone
What| The Capitols oh so exclusive interviews~!
Where| Primarily the common areas, but the interviews would be on every TV everywhere.
When| This evening, at 6 pm sharp
Notes| Use this post to ICly react to the interviews (if you don't make plans of your own!)

The advertisements hit hard today. Tune in at 6 o'clock, you won't want to miss this special! Everywhere a person could look, it was there, and the city was clearly excited for whatever this mystery event was.

As if that wasn't enough, escorts were encouraging Tributes to be in the commons, and a small feast of finger foods was laid out along one wall, extra avoxes available for drinks.

And, as promised, at 6 pm sharp, all the TVs flickered to the ever flashy Caesar, on an equally flashy tabloid-tastick reality style "interview" of the tributes. All the TVs in the common area light up with it, as well as the Districts suites, even if the TV had been off before.

Hope you all enjoy your dose of fame!

Comments

[the_hit_list]

Silence. The room was in relative chaos after that hack job, and Tim was still sitting in his arm chair in complete and utter stillness. He didn't throw anything at the screen, not even the cushions that he had earlier moved aside and neatly stacked on the small table next to him.

It was a sturdy little table. Metal framework looked solid enough, while still being delicate. It couldn't weigh much. If he angled it right, he could put the legs clear through the television.

No, he was going to be calm. Just sit here, and be calm. Eventually, he could go order a drink when he was sure that he wouldn't break another glass at a gathering. Yes. He could do this.

And so he sat, unmoving except for his face, which slowly settled into a tight, almost blank glare over a set jaw with one muscle threatening to just tic. That glare.

[bratwonder]

...welp. That was a thing. Maybe Damian had "lucked out" being one of the newer Tributes, but he still felt a twinge of embarrassment (one that he would never admit he ever felt) and disgust at seeing how some of that footage was used. The people in charge here were really, truly disgusting.

But if there was ever a good way to deal with one's own annoyance, it was by taking it out on someone else. And seeing how well Tim was taking everything (and boy, could he tell), it only made sense for Damian to go over to him and comment:

"You two are embarrassing."

Like, holy shit, really embarrassing.

[the_hit_list]

Tim's hand clenched on the chair when he saw Damian coming over. Of course, he saw everything. He couldn't have escaped this - Damian couldn't have been off getting his diaper changed or something for the Tiphanie segment. No, because then something would be off in some sort of karmic balance that said that Tim wasn't allowed to catch a break. Then, the little brat has to open his mouth, and it wasn't anything useful. Of course.

"Fuck." It's closely mouthed and said with just a huff of air. Tim's not even sure if he heard it or if he only knew he should. He wasn't normally much for cursing, the occasionally damn or shit, yes, not often more.

Really embarrassed? Really? You think, Damian? If Tim wasn't so furious, he'd be spluttering in humiliation. Again. He's stuck in another press relationship again. Last time it was just the threat of exposure, and he'd faked a spinal cord injury to get out of it. How the hell is he supposed to fix this? "When does the next Arena start?"

[bratwonder]

"Not soon enough." But then again, he wouldn't mind a nice, long moment to just revel in Tim's frustration and irritation right now. It was such a good feeling to see things not going his way. (Someone should probably tell Damian that there's nothing okay about taking joy in someone else's pain. Just probably.) On the other hand...

He actually had no idea what Tim was so irritated about to begin with. Surely it wasn't only the embarrassment that made him so angry he looked about ready to chuck that table at something. "You mean this isn't what you wanted?"

[the_hit_list]

"No, not soon enough," Tim agreed - but not agreeably. He'd tell Damian to go away and stop being an emotional vampire, but he didn't have the energy for the argument that the conversation would explode into. He didn't want to talk to him anyway, but Tim was effectively trapped. He was not providing them any more highlight reels tonight. Getting up and leaving right now would just make it look like he was looking for Stephanie.

"What makes you think this is what I wanted? I said three-ring circus - I didn't say I wanted to be in the goddamn center ring!" He's keeping as quiet as he can, but he's pissed about this because that - that he is included in the epicenter - is what's bothering him more than anything. He wanted everyone else that he knew to be more popular, to get better gifts, because he needed them all to get to the Capitol and they weren't going to do it on their own. They could only get out if they outlasted, because they were not going to get out killing.

[bratwonder]

"You wanted to give them a show and your plan backfired. Good job."

Damian still didn't quite understand why being the center of attention was the worst thing that could happen (especially when, from Damian's point of view, Tim usually was the center of attention where he was involved), but he understood this much: things just weren't going his way. And you know, he knew that sucked. But this was Tim, he didn't get what little sympathy Damian could muster up. You know, assuming he could muster up any at all to begin with.

He crossed his arms.

"You should've known they'd use your words against you."

[mediumdrip]

Blaine saw Tim there and frowned just a bit. "Tim?" he asked. "Are you okay?"

He could put his own embarrassment aside if it meant he could focus on someone else. He wasn't very close to Tim, but Tim and Diana knew each other really well. She had said that he could trust Tim, and he wanted Tim to know that that could go two ways.

[the_hit_list]

Snapping out of it somewhat, Tim glanced over at Blaine. A little of the harshness melted out of the expression. The guy seemed normal in the Arena, and he certainly hadn't been the one to edit together that nightmare. Tim couldn't go around snapping at Tributes all night long.

Okay, maybe some Tributes.

But not the normal ones. "Oh. Hey Blaine."

His voice was flat. "Interesting show, huh? I guess those were their Superbowl commercials."

[mediumdrip]

"I'd take Clydesdale horses over that any day," Blaine replied, feeling a little more than defeated by this entire thing.

[the_hit_list]

Tim nodded and forced a smile. "I'd say which one my favorite was, but, given the show and the Disneyland arena, it would look like I was being a little too cute and hoping that a reporter overheard me."

[mediumdrip]

"There are worse things to be than cute?" Blaine suggested, though he wasn't sure if Tim would agree.

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

Howard, for his part, just walks over to the couch next to Tim and slumps in it, all deflated like a dog that's been chased from the kitchen table for begging too much. He looks tired; he is tired. Dark circles have formed under his eyes, and his ring finger on his right hand twitches as nerves misfire from exhaustion. His lips are chapped and his eyes bloodshot. The only thing that looks healthier about him is that he put on ten pounds since the last time he saw Tim.

He watched that whole interview special without really absorbing any of it, although he figures some of it had to be edited, but since his own interview didn't make the cut he can't be sure yet. And great, he thinks. Now without Eponine there to provide a tragic love story, he's going to be boring to the audience and they'll let him die. And as miserable as he is on a fairly regular basis, he doesn't want to die when he's fifteen.

"Hey. You're going to give yourself an impacted tooth if you clench your jaw like that," he says to Tim, dispensing some unsolicited advice because that damn medical book he read is literally the only thing he retained from the last few hours. He runs a hand over his face and watches as the special reruns on the TV, finding it impossible to care.

It's not even fair to tease Tim about the whole 'Tiphanie' thing. Howard already can't remember the details, and besides, in a shooting match about relationships right now, Tim's going to win. So Howard doesn't. He lets Tim have that little bit of dignity not out of respect, but out of self-preservation.

[the_hit_list]

Tim gives Howard a searching look when he arrives. He doesn't miss any of it, the weariness, the stress, the weight. The loss of swagger worries Tim more than the improvement in body size can alleviate. The Capitol is not treating the Tributes well. Everything about the kid says 'emotional backslide', and the only thing that keeps Tim from calling it a complete tailspin is the advice. The weight could be emotional eating, but Howard doesn't have his head up his ass at the moment.

If that's what it is. He might be walking around in some sort of distressed fugue. Maybe that's the best way to cope with this. Just don't let it touch you. Oh, Christ. They're showing it again.

Tim turns in the chair, facing Howard more fully. He's not listening to this a second time. "Not if I keep my tongue between my teeth, I won't."

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

"Probably smart. Some of the footage they got wasn't from the Arenas." That's one of the few things that stood out to him, that small clip of him and Eponine huddled in the basement. It brought up enough feelings that he couldn't sort through them all, couldn't figure out if he was supposed to be feeling longing or anger or sadness or worry, and so he didn't feel anything at all.

He faces Tim and rubs a hand over his upper arm. "Sorry, about, you know. All the stuff I said back at that party. You know."

Humility isn't a new thing for him, but apologizing is. Now that he's been taken down a few more pegs he might as well start trying to see which bridges he hasn't burned entirely, and the fact that he and Tim continued their conversation for a good five minutes after the shouting match is a promising indicator.

[the_hit_list]

That's a more direct apology than he'd gotten before now, and Tim almost dismisses it. He has Howard in a personality box labelled survivor, and that show just made Tim out to be one of the heavy favorites among the fans and that meant sponsors. He'd also given one of the most direct, conceited answers to the next winner question, thanks to the editor's huge truncation.

They hadn't shown much of Howard. He's here because he's now back in let's-be-friends mode. Tim is fine with that; he respects it. He still wants the kid who's so creative with food-gathering on his side. There's nothing to gain from responding with nastiness, except letting off steam. He'll save that for the training room.

"Don't worry about it," Tim replied softly. He was talking as much about the footage as he was the argument. It hadn't surprised him to see footage from the Capitol - he was surprised that they hadn't used him and Steph hugging in her bedroom. He didn't think that there was a decency line with the Games in respect to nudity (changing and sex are the only reasons he'd have for not putting cameras in someone's bedrooms). More likely, they didn't want the Tributes to know that their bedrooms were bugged. He still wasn't going to trust it. "My emotions were running a little high at the party. You've seen why. I shouldn't have laid into you like that."

[iselldrugstothecommunity]

"I probably earned it." He doesn't know if he's being brushed aside, but he doesn't leave. Part of it's that he has nothing better to do than to sit on the couch in some kind of untouchable haze. Part of it is that he just wants company.

It's not as if he's looking to be friends with Tim, and that's a positive. That makes him feel safe, knowing there's nothing to lose, no trust to break, no expectations to fall short of. Howard can't help but want to be near people, as awful as they are in general; there's something in him that pulls towards others like the blood being pushed through the body. It's what keeps him on the fringes of society, but in shouting distance nonetheless.

And Tim's not happy right now. Howard doesn't want to be around happy folks, no matter how scarce they are around here. Frustrated, embarrassed, nervous - if Tim's any of those things, he can work with that.

After a long, long pause, he asks, "have you seen Eponine? Since twenty-three days ago?" He could add in hours, but even he's aware how pathetic that is.

[shinyisfalse]

Maybe what Tim was feeling (or looking like he was feeling, from a layman's perspective) was how Katniss felt when Peeta made his declaration of love in front of the whole world. Taken off-guard, but rather then show any panic, you showed an absolutely blank, unreadable face.

That was not something Peeta was good at. He could be taken off-guard, but he would grin, laugh it off, say something, anything, rather then just sitting still. It reminded him too much of how he reacted when he woke up from another nightmare. But this was a lot like a nightmare, too. Once in a relationship for the Capitol, you could never get out of it. There was guilt there, but also a little sadness.

At least Tim and Stephanie seemed to really have something. He came over, and rather then taking a seat on the arm of the chair, he stood there. Peeta could understand not wanting someone close right now. "Whoever your stylist is, they've done a nice job." He gave a smile with that.

[the_hit_list]

Looking up at this new person, Tim's eyes widened slightly in recognition. Peeta Mellark was half of the reasoning behind the things he'd said in the original version of the interview. He wasn't a movie executive, but he knew that he didn't want to be part of a regurgitated plotline. They never went over as well. He should have realized that executives still cranked them out, because nobody cared what the critics said when money was at stake.

It wasn't that he thought Peeta was somehow to blame for his frustration - far from it. Tim knew that the majority of Tributes weren't volunteers, so he doesn't know where it fits in with the honor pageantry of it if half of them aren't clamoring to be involved. Being reaped absolved most of winners from disdain, in his eyes.

He'd heard about that stunt that they pulled off in the 74th Arena. Ballsy maneuver. Tim thinks they were stupid, but he can respect that kind of nerve.

"I'll let her know you think so," Tim said softly. He wasn't sure if he could hit amiable right now, but polite was easy. He stood up and held out a hand to shake. "I'm Tim. Do you shake hands, here? The last person that I saw try it was actually shaking her hand."

He'll never reveal who, though. Tribute solidarity. Even if the rest of them don't have it.

[shinyisfalse]

Oh no. That's what this place was all about, really. As much as people in the Capitol touted out how much they wanted originality, in the end, they always wanted the tried and true, the things that they already knew. They just wanted it in a slightly different flavor. Love was something that never got old, so long as they could portray it in a slightly different light, like how they were now doing it with the "guests".

'It was so cute! Oh look, they had love back home, too! Oh, isn't that Tim guy so stoic, isn't Stephanie so bubbly, didn't they complement each other so well? They were so adorable together, and good looking on their own to boot.' Peeta could hear it all now. But at the very least, his own star-crossed lover deal had been something he'd started. Katniss had agreed, eventually, but Peeta felt like he was in control of it, even if it was only a little bit.

Taking Tim's hand, he gave it a firm shake. "I shake hands, here, but maybe that's something I carried with me from District Twelve," Peeta smiled. "I'm Peeta. It's nice to meet you." He let go of his hand after the shake, letting it fall to his side.

"It's a little shocking, isn't it, to see your face on TV? Hear your words on it? We spend so much time watching it that we never really expect to ever watch us. I know the first time I saw myself on the screen, I couldn't believe it. It felt so different, what I said and what I did, in my head, versus what I saw on the screen." Ah, double talk. It gave him a headache, but it was getting so much easier, over time.

[the_hit_list]

"The pleasure's mine." He was curious about District Twelve. Tim was incredibly curious about all the districts, really. After all, they split up the tributes into honorary districts, but, aside from the former victors, he hadn't met anyone who was actually from them. Subjugation on a level so strict that the Capitol didn't even seem to be bringing in the best and the brightest from the other states. All the while, they dumbed down their own population with as much mindless drivel as possible. Television wasn't popular here - it was inescapable. "District 12... you're on of the mentors for my father."

That had to be... interesting. Tim could imagine how much of an idiot Bruce was pretending to be. Oh, if only they knew.

He glanced at the tv. The truth was, he'd seen himself on TV before. He'd been in this exact situation not too long ago, where the press had gotten a whiff of a relationship and run with it. But to say so would be to admit that he had a playbook. "It's a little unsettling. You see yourself on the screen, and it's like... do I really look like that? Is that really how my voice sounds? It's funny how you always sound different to your own ears while you're speaking. I think I sound younger, somehow, on a recording."

[shinyisfalse]

"Am I? I was away from the Capitol for awhile, I'm getting back into the swing of things, so I'm sorry if I don't remember his name right now." Peeta wasn't sure if anyone had said they had children. Was it someone Katniss forgot to mention? Oh, no, she had told him! It must be that Tony Stark guy, they looked like they could be related.

But what was the best and brightest? Only the Victors. The Capitol didn't measure with anything else. "Very different to your own ears," Peeta agreed. "I didn't think you sounded that young, though. You sort of fit what people expect with their tributes, or, I mean, expected with them. Probably one of the reasons why they focused on you."

[blondevigilante]

Stephanie has tried to sit as far from Tim as possible. It turned out this had been a great decision on her part because the moment the interview ended she discovered she really wanted to hit someone. Possibly Tim. She smashed a pillow in her fist and sat tight, counting to ten, and taking deep breathes. Maybe if she sat here long enough the ground would open up and swallow her.

Right. This wasn't helping at all. Completely calm, Steph stood up and made her way over to Tim. "I'm throwing this all on you." Because there was no way she could think of to control this train-wreck. He was a Wayne; publicity was part of the job.

[the_hit_list]

He really appreciated that Steph was somewhere else during the screening. It made it easier to think, because he could analyze the situation without distraction when she wasn't there. Furthermore, he could come up with more painful solutions when there was no one chipper and stubborn around to veto them.

By the time she made her way to where he was sitting, Tim was genuinely calming down. They still had two major routes left to them, and there were endless options between them. He could find one that suited them and the Capitol. They were going to be fine.

"You don't have to. I take full responsibility." His idea, his problem. He could point out that she had agreed with him, but pissing off the person that he know had to be on good terms with when they were in public wasn't going to be risked.

[blondevigilante]

It's irritating to see him sit there so calm. He should be mad or embarrassed or any other emotion other than Wayne-calm. She really wants to hit him with one of the pillows that decorate the seating arrangements.

Damn it.

Stephanie sits on the arm of his chair and looks down at him. Despite the fact that she was actually older than him, he always made her feel inferior with things like this. He'd been raised to deal with publicity and all the things that come with that publicity while she'd been dealing with making sure there was money to buy gas for the week.

"I feel like this is some sort of death sentence. Goodbye any illusion of privacy and hello 'Tiffanys'. They're going to want to talk to us and you know me and words." Tim had to have an idea on how to salvage this sudden fame.

[the_hit_list]

Tim reached up and rubbed Stephanie's back when she sat down. Screw other people being around. They were talking; there was already going to be attention. Let them think it was romantic. He was going to try and make her feel better.

It wasn't that he was over being angry and humiliated. Tim had shoved that away to be dealt with later. At this rate, later was going to be months from now. They weren't really making any progress with finding a way to get home - Tim couldn't even find a way to get away from the dozens of people who could be considered handlers for more than a few hours.

"It's not a death sentence," Tim began carefully. It was more like being sent to work in the rockyard. That wasn't helpful. "It was only an illusion to begin with. You knew that. As for you and words, tell me now what you're going to say. I'll follow your lead."

He was better than she was at subterfuge. He could handle however Steph wanted to take this - it wasn't like his idea had gone that well. "I'm sorry."