thecapitol | (no subject)

WHO| Anyone in the Capitol. Mentors, dead tributes, and the new future tributes (if you like)
WHAT| Game viewing party
WHEN| Ongoing, as long as the weather holds and the Game's don't end
WHERE| The roof of the mentor's headquarters
WARNING/NOTES| none right now.

The roof lavishly decorated, dripping with flowers, brilliantly colored blown glass bubbles and fountains that cascaded down into a small wading pool that ringed the roof. Cabana's were dotted here and there, surrounded by flowing curtains for privacy, and lounges covered with large, ornate pillows made sure there was plenty of places to sit.

Along one edge was a buffet covered with delicacies, all finger foods geared toward the warm weather. Rare fruits chilled on ice, delicate sheets of raw fish curled up on tiny piece of bread, chilled dips and many more. Iced, fruity drinks flowed freely, with a handful of Avoxs around for any needs the guest may have.

TV's were everywhere, and a guarded door lead back into the mentor's headquarter's, in case they needed to slip back in to help their tributes. If they have any left.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Oh. I've had some training," he said, "But I guess I should keep the specifics a secret if you'll be helping someone else."

One in a while he glanced over at the screens to see if anything of interest was happening. Nope, not much. Obviously it was time for invasive personal questions.

"So. When you won, how many people did you have to off? Or did you keep track?"

Well, if he had been on the fence about this kid before, he wasn't anymore. His mouth tightened, but he shrugged, looking up at the tv.

"It doesn't really work that way, kid."

Which, he supposed meant that he didn't keep track. Which wasn't, actually, true. But that wasn't something he discussed with stranger, period.

"Oh. Okay," he said, his tone flatter than before. In a world where murder was sanctioned by the government, he figured people would at least be willing to talk about it.

"Just thought I'd try to find out what the average is. To be prepared, you know. But I guess there's someone else that'll tell me about that." he said, trying to deflect any negative suspicions.

Considering the last bit, he finally decided to throw out some numbers. They were easily accessible, and although this boys had firmly moved into the 'do not trust' category, Elias lived by the keep your enemies closer motto.

"Sorry," He gave him a disarming smile. "It just took me a little off guard. It really depend person to person, and game to game. Some victors kill half the arena, some kill none."

"None? How do they manage that?" he asked, "They just wait until everyone else starves to death?"

In his opinion, anyone with a zero death toll wasn't a real winner. Given the short time he'd been here, he didn't have much authority to be forming opinions, but that never stopped him before.

Elias shrugged, his eyes dancing over to Annie. But something made him not want to bring her up right now, not to Kevin.

"Or are killed in other ways. By other tributes, by things the arena does. You can't usually just hide away but there are...a lot of factors."

"Ah. Well, I guess the most capable one doesn't always win," he said, and he made sure to make eye contact as he said it, "I hate luck. Shouldn't be a factor at all, if I had it my way. But life isn't fair, so I suppose this isn't any different."

"Well, in the past it was untrained children thrown into the arena. Now it looks like the competition is getting more...fierce." He let a smile linger on his face.

Let this kid ponder on that. Elias knew this round had some trained killers, people who put Careers to shame. It was unfair in an entirely different direction, but having seen enough kids go in who only had hope that luck would go their way...the comment got under Elias's skin.