thecapitol | (no subject)

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(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

Finnick walked into the party wearing a black suit with a blue button up shirt under the stylish jacket. He spots the young tribute he recognizes from the file that had been handed to him the day before. The kid had been assigned to District 4 despite never having even been there. Strolling over to him with a drink in hand the first thing he noticed was the intense focus on the Games on the screen. Usually tributes didn't arrive and watch the Games prior to going into the arena, but he would have assumed most would either not watch or stare in fear. However this wasn't fear in the kid's eyes.

"Kevin?" He addressed him before attempting to sit down. His hand is offered, "I'm Finnick Odair. Your mentor."

No, not fear. If anything, it was boredom. Come on, somebody, die already. But he didn't want to miss anything, just in case. However, he assumed he'd get some sort of cue, even if he wasn't looking, either by the sounds of the arena or the reaction of the audience.

"Oh," he said, returning the handshake limply, "Yeah, that's me. So what're you supposed to be mentoring me in?"

Oh, he was looking forward to this. If there was one thing he loved it was being told what to do and then not doing it. Of course, this type of training was valuable, but that didn't mean he had to go easy.

Finnick welcomed himself to the seat across from the kid after receiving the weak handshake. He sipped his drink when he did, inspecting Kevin more closely now.

"In how to stay alive in there." He nodded towards a nearby screen. "At least as much as I can considering we have no idea what sort of arena you'll be thrown into." Finnick made direct eye contact the entire time he spoke. "Also how to get sponsors while in there. Or when you're here- this whole tributes in the Capitol walking around freely before the Games is a new concept around here."

"So what's your...world like?" What an odd question to be asking.

"It was there," he said, and that was really his only opinion on it, but he figured that Finnick wanted elaboration and would likely ask for it so he might as well get it over with, "Kind of like this, but with less-advanced technology and no government-sanctioned fights to the death. I lived in a fairly big house with my parents and sister, went to school, and all that."

He left out the part where he was about to go to prison. That could come later. He would've made a snide remark about Capitol fashion, but he himself was wearing clothes a couple sizes too small and didn't want any 'pot calling the kettle black' analogies coming his way.

"You've won one," he said, giving a nod towards one of the screens.

"When I was 14, yeah." He nodded, his eyes glancing up at the screen for only a second. "And what helped me survive in there was that I didn't let anyone know I was a threat before I went in, and sponsors." Usually it was common knowledge around Panem of Finnick's Game and victory, but he had to remind himself Kevin didn't know any of this. "Sponsors liked me so they sent me a trident so I could win. Getting things in the arena can be the difference between life and death when you don't have anything."

He spotted an Avox approaching with a tray of drinks approaching. "Want one?" He grabbed himself a new glass filled with some red liquor.

"No," he said. He wasn't much fond of liquor. He didn't understand the appeal of losing one's mental clarity, even for a short period of time.

"Fourteen, huh," he said, trying to size up whether or not he could've beaten a fourteen year old version of this guy, "Well, I guess you're either a threat or you're not. Regardless of age. Some people don't have it in them."

He paused for a few seconds before adding: "Do, did your mentor know you were capable, or did you surprise them?"

"Suit yourself." he shrugged and drank his own. Finnick was a lot bigger now than he had been 10 years ago during his Games, but he had always been toned and strong. He would be lying if he couldn't admit that he was sizing this kid up as well.

"My mentor knew I could wield a trident, but I kept that hidden from the other tributes." He explained. "However what she had really needed to know is that I could get people to like me. Tributes usually don't get weapons as gifts. Its things to survive like medicine or food. Everything has a price and nothing is cheap."

"So despite whether or not you can kill people, what matters right now that you're here in the Capitol, is getting sponsors." Had Kevin been some girl from the Capitol his charm would be turned on. However this kid needed to know the facts and how things were run around here so he was getting a very authentic version of Finnick right now. "They could throw you into a desert and what you do here is going to get you that bottle of water you're going to need."

"So what are you capable of?" Right now he needed to know that. If Kevin could do his part, Finnick could keep him alive.

"Well, I'd say I'm pretty good at archery. I've hunted before. Didn't waste a single arrow," he said, "But, you know, I'm really just grateful to be here with all these awesome people who have so generously given me this opportunity to prove myself. And I'll be doing my best for every single one of you."

He gives a small bow and a smile, as if there were an audience. And then his expression changes suddenly, the smile vanishes, and he actually bothers to make eye contact, "If I couldn't perform for a crowd I wouldn't have made it through life at all, with all the bullshit and social rituals you have to wade through. I've been working on my acting since, I dunno, infancy."

He had sense the bullshit in his fake speech to an audience of being grateful to be here, however the Capitol people wouldn't have caught it. Kevin had an attractive smile, and the Capitol people enjoyed that. They wanted anything they saw as pretty, new and different.

Finnick nodded in approval, "You'll probably do all right here then. The people of the Capitol who derive entertainment from the Games are rather...easy to figure out." He saw no reason not to be blunt. "They're all generally pretty simple and you'll be able to tell what they want to hear." Which had been exactly what Kevin had just put into that little speech. "Archery will get you far - there's nearly always a bow. Also last Games the winner had been an archer so that's very popular right now."

He was seeing ways he could work with this kid. Although he wouldn't admit it, something about the way Kevin looked at him and others gave Finnick the notion that he couldn't be entirely trusted.

"It'll be up to you if you want to form alliances with other tributes- especially the girl who will also be assigned to District 4." He suggested. "Some find it beneficial, others a burden seeing that you'll have to kill them to win eventually."

"Burden? I'd have to kill them anyways, right?" he said, and then clued in, "Oh. You're worried I'll get attached to them, huh? And then in the end I just won't be able to do it, I'll sacrifice myself rather than let them die."

He leaned back and just let that thought sink in for a few seconds. It was almost humorous to him, that anyone would worry that he'd have a hard time killing when it came down to it. Not after being on the news. Not after walking through that furious, terrified crowd outside the school. But, he did have a clean slate here. That was weird to think about.

"Well, don't worry," he said, "I assure you, that's the least of your concerns."

"Ah ha." He eyed Kevin over the brim of his glass. This kid talks with a great deal of confidence mixed in with his odd toying with words. He had been tossed a very interesting tribute indeed.

In Kevin's demeanor he couldn't help but remember the year a tribute had turned to cannibalism in the arena. It had caused quite the stir and even the Gamemakers had to become involved to control it. Such an odd memory to stir up now in association to this kid. Maybe it was just a hunch that there was something rather dark about him that he was hiding, but also was in plain view.

"Then I won't." He says in response to being told not to worry. "So what should be my concerns about you?"

"I don't know. I guess I'm not used to the whole 'being out in the wilderness' thing. But I'm a fast learner," he said, "I'm sure we'll have time to cover all that. Maybe there's some crazy poisonous shit here that I don't know about, who knows."

And then he remembered what Elias said about the careers, "Someone told me that people volunteer sometimes. Did you volunteer?"

"Yeah, you probably ought to learn some time about that poisonous shit." Finnick smirks in amusement using his words. "There'll be plenty time in the training center for that though. They have specialists teach you that. I'm just here for the social aspect."

"Yeah? Who told you that?" He was curious now more about who had been talking to his tribute than the fact that he was interested about his reaping. His eyes shifted around the party eyeing the other mentors that were present wondering which one it had been.

"No, I was reaped." He told him. "Chosen at random. No one volunteered to take my place, but it does happen. In some districts more than others"

"The guy with one eye," he said, "He didn't tell me much. I'm not in his district and all. He's probably training someone else to kill me, so I didn't tell him anything, either."

He looked down at the fruit he's still picking at but not actually eating, "Was it fun? Or just exhausting? When you were playing, I mean."

Yes, Kevin's number one concern right now was that the intense physical exertion required might make his slaughtering tiresome instead of enjoyable.

Finnick nodded hearing this. Elias. Wasn't a huge threat, but just found it interesting he would be socializing with someone else's tribute. "Good move."

"Playing?" That was probably the last term to ever be used when describing someone being in the Games. Granted, for an outsider it made sense since they were called games, but to someone like Finnick it was almost an insult. Luckily he was able to catch himself before almost snapping over something so small. "Yeah, we don't call it that. It was more...'participating' than playing."

Then came the second part of what the kid had said - 'fun' - this was a red flag to Finnick. The next Game definitely had a force to be reckon with if instead of asking if it was terrifying or the like, he was asking if it was 'fun'. However he did have to admit that there were Careers from his District as well as other Career Districts that may use that word.

"Exhausting sounds pretty accurate." he said slowly. "A lot of time and effort goes into getting food and shelter for when you need to sleep. You can't run off no sleep for a week, especially when you're being hunted." He took another long drink. "So unless you enjoy either freezing or being damp or whatever mutt the arena will throw at you, I wouldn't say the experience was fun, no." He shrugged. "However, some tributes have found it...enjoyable."

He caught that hesitation, that same look he'd gotten so many times when someone was trying not to be angry with him. It was a look he was intimately familiar with, and one that he greatly enjoyed. He made a note of that and, provided Finnick would be motivated to see his own tributes win even if he disliked them, decided that he would deliberately use 'playing' to describe his participation from now on.

"Well, I guess nothing in life is free, is it?" he said. Even if it was exhausting, being treated like a prince for what he was willing to go to prison for seemed like a pretty great deal, "So what do you get out of it? If I win, I mean. Or is this just your job?"

“It’s just my job.” he admitted to the kid. “When I won they made me a mentor for those to go in from my district after me. I gained my reward for winning, but right now I just get to enjoy the luxuries of the Capitol and bask in the company of tributes such as yourself.” He wasn’t going to go into the details of how he get to stay alive as a result of being a mentor. Not that there was any choice, especially not for Finnick, but ultimately that was how he was paid. He was able to live.

“They haven’t told me what youget though.” He confesses. “Suppose it’s a surprise.”

"I know what I get out of it," he said, "But do you get any special rewards if I win, or is it all the same for you either way? Doesn't seem fair if your hard work isn't rewarded."

Not that anything here was fair, but he was testing the waters for how far he could push his own mentors before their personal dislike could start making things really hard for him. If Finnick could sabotage him without much consequence, it might be a better idea to pick on someone else.

"It doesn't seem fair." he repeated how silly that sounded to him. The Capitol never functioned on fairness. "Nah, just status, which District 4 already has. No money, but I don't really need any of that here." This kid really knew so little about how things worked around here. He'd see the surface, but not the under belly of the Capitol.

"And what do you get out of it?" He leaned forward, curious to what this kid was told and by whom.

Personal gratification. That was the correct answer. But, damn, it was looking like Finnick had no real reason to help out a tribute he disliked, unless he was just a nice guy. But Kevin didn't like to stake a lot on anyone being nice.

"I get to live," he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, "I guess I should be more nervous but I wasn't in the greatest situation back home, anyways. Honestly, I probably have a better chance here."

"That you do," He agreed. "Provided you can survive in there, but you seem pretty confident in yourself. That's good. Next to the other wide eye terrified tributes, you'll stand out in a good way."

Finnick took another drink of liquor. He wasn't going to need to train this kid to convince others that he could be sponsored, it was just a matter of not being an ass to the Capitol people just by using the wrong terminology to them. Or the other mentors. He didn't want Kevin to earn a target on his back either.

"A better chance here?" He was surprised to hear this. "Doesn't sound like your life was half bad in your world."

"Well, like you said, I stand out," he said, "Back home, too. But not always in a good way. I got a little too much notice from the wrong crowd, you know? And once you've gotten that kind of attention, it's difficult to get away from it. At least here I have a clean slate."

After he went in to the arena it'd probably be pretty easy to see just what kind of trouble he was in back home. For now, he'd leave it ambiguous. It wasn't fun if he revealed everything right away, and if he had to at least try to win this guy's favor it'd be better to hold it off.

Well that was a vague answer, Finnick thought, but shrugged it off. It didn't much matter what his life was like back home seeing it had little effect on how the Capitol treated his family and town. All that mattered was that this kid could stay alive.

"And what you do with that clean slate will determine the sort of life they grant you." he reminds him. "Don't forget that. This isn't your comfortable little home." This kid had no idea.

"I was hardly comfortable there," he said, a little harsher this time before lightening up again, "But of course, if there's anything important I need to know to avoid offending anyone, I'll stick to it as close as possible. Getting help in the arena is important, even if I don't agree with everything I have to do to get it."

And being given all the information he needed in case he did want to offend someone was a nice little bonus, too.

Kevin had no clue how much he had nailed that one directly on the head in regard to Finnick's true feelings about getting sponsors.

"Hmm, well, like I said don't call it "playing" when you're referring to the Games. Seem humble, but confident." he pondered aloud. "Oh, and if you talk to any one in the Capitol, pretend to take a great interested in them- they'll talk for hours, but they love it when you listen to them. They'll usually buy you drinks so that helps to tolerate it." He shrugs casually sipping his own.

"What these people want is a fighter and someone who will win. They want you to be a killer, but they also have to like you." Something gave him a hunch to add the last piece of advice on his mind, however he couldn't verbalize what it was exactly. "And don't look like you enjoy the killing too much when you're in the arena. If you win, you don't want them afraid of you because there's no telling what will happen if you win these Games."