a cherry on top of the icing // jakobi + teddy, post 87th

[lance]

Freshly twenty five and even more freshly graduated, it would be an understatement to say that you were on top of the fucking world.

Blame the four drinks coursing through your system, the euphoria of successfully conquering the district's master's degree with a year to spare, the questionable influence of your friends, but whatever the case, it was hardly a surprise that you found yourself in this situation.

You were Jakobi Knight, after all. Overachiever, confident often mislabeled as arrogant, with big ambitions and big dreams barely matched by the heavens themselves. The stifling influence of estranged parents couldn't stop you. The arbitrary barriers that proclaimed that age equaled development and ability hadn't slowed you down. Even the Capitol, with seven sets of Reapings in which to pull your name, had been unable to kill you. A million to one chance indeed, one that only ever struck the unlucky - but who let luck decide their fate when there was so much more that could be created through skill and hard work?

Oh, you heard the whispers, all right, saying that you let your success and your good genetics get to your head. But humility was overrated, even more so when you had every advantage known to man, and if you had it, then why should you downplay your own talents?

There was nothing you couldn't do if you had enough time, energy, and desire to put into it. That's why you'd become self sufficient at a young age, obtained both a college and a master's degree by the end of your first quarter of a century of life, why you were currently clutching drink number five with satisfaction practically oozing from every pore.

Cause see, that was the other part. There was nothing you couldn't do, but there was also virtually nobody you couldn't do when you put your mind to it, either. Was that overly cocky of you to claim? Perhaps, if it wasn't also true. People who weren't interested in men aside, there were few that you weren't able to coerce into your bed for a night at worst and for several months at best. You'd seduced everyone from a random handsome guy you'd bumped into on the street to a socialite from one of Six's rare upper class houses, amongst others.

But tonight, you felt invincible. You'd lived to twenty five, you'd completed a degree that usually took others till almost thirty to accomplish, and you were on top of the fucking world. There remained yet two hurdles for you to accomplish - a job at the Capitol, and, well...

In all honesty, you hadn't started the night intending to add Teddy Ursa to your list of conquests. While adding to your conquests was definitely in the cards, as were many nights you found yourself several drinks in in the aftermath of a great victory, the Victor was more of a last second addition than a pre-planned notion. Sure, you'd be lying if you said that the fantasy didn't exist, but who didn't have fantasies about handsome names that just so happened to be known across the nation?

And yet here he was, at your favorite stomping grounds by sheer coincidence. It was almost as if the stars had aligned to grant you this cherry on top of the icing on your victory cake.

At twenty five, there was nothing, and nobody, you couldn't do. Why not add in one last challenge while you still could?

You grab your fifth drink, excuse yourself from your friends, and seconds later, make your move.

"Well, aren't you the man of the hour," you smirk as you slide into the seat to the right of Teddy, a well-practiced grin etched so far into your muscle memory that even the senior Victor of your home would be hard-pressed to resist. "Never thought our very own Teddy motherfucking Ursa would be here, slumming it away with the rest of us lowlives." Your grin turns just the faintest bit lecherous. "But, I suppose if there was a reason to celebrate, your most recent stint in the gulag would be one, no?"

Truthfully, you weren't here to talk about Flynn Garner, even if your words said otherwise. But these sorts of things shouldn't be rushed - especially when the stakes were high, even for you.

[Tom]

Every accomplishment comes with a reaction. Good or bad; he's seen enough reactions to doing the impossible, as other people state them to be, to last a lifetime for him. Survive a storm that took his memories. Win the Hunger Games. Survive Parson's death and rebirth. Reunite with his siblings. The newest of which being added to his public list of them. Getting a kid home from the horrors of the games that follow him around still. A silence having fallen over him as he realized the truth of the entire situation. A boy, younger than himself, having made it home after all this time spent crying for the world to let him breath, but once he's accepted the future, the world decides to throw him a bone. It's a bittersweet feeling knowing he's helped Flynn come home, but so many other names coat his hands in blood.

Kids that never got to see their home once more.

Maybe that's why he's found himself out here with a glass of some hard alcohol after a long evening of trying to swallow down his emotions. Quest's bar had felt too close to the root of his own issues; the hard to swallow truth that lives in the back of his head. A happiness that Flynn had made it home, but a part of him that swore he wasn't good enough for this. Irrational thoughts piling on over and over, but he bites down the thoughts, downing his glass with a heavy feeling of cotton in his mouth knowing he'd have to have some water soon. Stepping up to the bar, waving down the bartender for a glass of water to clear his own thoughts away. Celebrations had taken a toll on him, but he had to get out of the house and Quest's bar despite wanting to rest.

Rest meant dreaming for him. Dreams to plague him, to haunt him, and to remind him of the ruin he's created and the retribution people wanted to cause to him. A burning feeling in his missing leg as another glass of some fruity, sweet drink reaches his hand once more and a glass of water in the other one. Stepping away from the crowds of people who were around his age. Adults having fun on a normal night in a normal place at a normal time. A loudness that didn't feel quite right for him to fit into, but he sits in the blur of lights and people and drinks. A solid figure among a crowd of people who were normal, people who were like him before he got the crown upon his head. A smile as he watches people dance, talk, and enjoy themselves. His thoughts were much quieter when surrounded by people, even those who he no longer recognized as himself anymore.

Alone and watching quietly, he sits on a stool near the bar; people passing him by with conversations of loved ones, work, and anything else that people typically talk about. Bodies shifting through the room as music plays softly from somewhere. Eyes staring every so often at him, but he's used it now. The capitol's always were somewhere when he was there. The parties feeling less genuine, but in Six, he felt comfortable for once in the room. Silently, turning back around, he let's himself drink from his glass in his hands. The taste of alcohol and sugar touching his lips as he feels someone move next to him. Words slipping from his lips.

"Well, aren't you the man of the hour," Finally getting to see the man, Teddy Ursa is surprised to see a man, younger than himself, sitting next to him. A smirk plastered across the guy's face meant for him, but Teddy could see the way his eyes follow him. "Never thought our very own Teddy motherfucking Ursa would be here, slumming it away with the rest of us lowlives." The words feel strange hanging in the air. Almost an image of superiority over them meant to be seen, but he can't find the humor behind it. Slumming it with the rest of the lowlives isn't what he's doing. Teddy's lived as a normal man for a year before his name was called, smiling in the halls of a hospital, but this was different. The crown was heavy upon the crowned. As he's learned over the years, he's seen as better to the regular people, but he felt like them still through and through. The grin changes slightly, a certain look behind those eyes and pretty face settling in, but the words don't match quite right.

"But, I suppose if there was a reason to celebrate, your most recent stint in the gulag would be one, no?"

Lifting up his glass to his lips once more, swigging down what's left of his new drink, he sets it down. His eyes leering slightly to the younger man, who's got a pretty face, a nice smile, and a certain confidence around him. This wasn't the first time he's been hit on at a bar. It most likely wouldn't be the last time. At least this time it was by someone from Six and not one of those Capitolites who got too handsy. Smiling softly back, letting the alcohol wash over his head with a fogginess as he rests back into the chair, letting himself relax a little bit. The words stung a little bit, almost belittling in a way, but he bites down the thought, giving it a once over before calmly replying with a careful tone, unsure of where this conversation would go with pretty guy.

"I'm just like you? Just another adult who's trying to enjoy his time after working through everything, y'know." A smile filling his lips as he lets the feeling of friendliness and a little bit of teasing come forth as he focuses on trying to seem approachable and less like the tired man he felt some nights. "Definitely a reason to celebrate after everything. It's nice to enjoy some time with my people. Y'know. People from Six." Tipsy brain leading him forth as he waves down a bartender once more, letting himself focus on someone else other than the guy who clearly was trying to start up a conversation. As the bartender approached, Teddy smiles softly and speaks confidently. "Another drink for me and handsome here." A joking smile on his lips before he adds onto it.

"Make sure it's on my tab."

The bartender sets off to make the drinks as Teddy can feel himself drifting away from the thoughts of the capitol, the games, and his new neighbor who was still adjusting to everything. Handsome was still there as Teddy finally turned closer, letting himself seem more open to conversation. Company wasn't an issue for him. He preferred the loudness, even if he wanted to be alone. The sound made him stay awake and made him feel more apart of Six than just his visits to the hospital where he sees the sadness of Six rest. Confidently, he speaks once more to the man with a pretty face and nice smile. Sometimes he could still remember Kaiser Fray in the back of his head in these moments, wondering if he should try to pretend to be as confident as him or not.

"So, since you already know my name, I should probably ask for yours, handsome."

A single smile with an open conversation could drown out his mind.

A single fleeting moment of his tipsy brain telling him to ignore the red flags behind the handsome man's words.

"So, What's your name?"

[lance]

It's hard to say if you're surprised that the attempt actually works or not. Not that you're lacking in self confidence, per say, but even you lack a one hundred percent success rate when it comes to flirting with the riff-raff that usually frequents this bar, let alone someone of great importance like Teddy muthafuckin' Ursa, for example. But whatever the case is, you make it past the first phase. Smile, blinding. Claws, hooked.

The rest is just formalities from here.

Your grin grows wider as the Victor falls for your charms, buys you a drink, shows genuine interest in you. What was that saying again? Personality beats good looks any day, your ass. (And what a fine ass it was, too, but you digress). Personality clearly hadn't done shit when it came to breaking through the mysterious shell surrounding Teddy - all it took was the right time, the right moment, then a wink here, a flirt there, and voila.

"Who, me?" you simper as drink number five disappears down your throat, and you barely taste it because drink number six is the first drink in record that a Victor has bought anyone and well, if you undo another button from the top of your shirt to expose your collarbones in response well, then, that's just politics. "I'm no one important, really." An exaggeration, but there's no way you're winning an ego check with a Victor so you don't even try. "Just an ex-student at the institute celebrating his grand emancipation."

You take the drink the Victor offered and raise it in a mock toast before taking a swing. Sweet and fruity. Not surprising. "But you can call me Jakobi."

[Tom]

A taste of figurative liquid courage runs through his veins. Teddy Ursa's own skin felt as if his veins were burning with lava once more. The same fire in his chest as he'd always carried back when danger lingered over his shoulders. Kaiser Fray would have laughed at the way he's giving off the faux confidence; a whisper of a ghost upon his ears. At a different bar than normal, his fingers itched for the way he felt apart of and disconnected from the same community that he represented. Isn't that why he'd decided to buy the pretty man before him a drink? To escape the feeling surrounding his heart. Another swig of alcohol is what he tastes as the smile burns across his lips.

The unfortunate side effect of his own thoughts is getting lost in the sights of the pretty man who's hair looked way too soft. Teddy wanted to run his hands through the locks, see if the other would lean into the touch, but he keeps that in the back of his mind. Instead, he watches the other take a swig of his drink, watching the way pretty man's throat contracts around the taste. For just a second, he can feel his thoughts going to a sort of irrational desire to leave a mark there. Irrationally so. Just was a pretty man with a pretty look and while under normal circumstances, Teddy Ursa would just let his mind wander and avoid the entirety of the thought because there were more important things than pretty people to deal with. He finds himself leaning into the other's words.

The way his head moves as soon as the question is directed out there for anyone to take. His eyes linger upon the pretty man's chest where another button exposes another expanse of skin. Teddy's eyes soak it in before smiling back to the man, feeling himself staying pretty tipsy on the brink of drunk now. Shaking his head, he speaks up in a soft smile as Pretty Man's words echo in his ears. "Congrats then." Tipping his drink back to feel the swirling of sweetness and the burn at the back of his throat. His voice escaping once more. "Doesn't mean you're not important. Six needs more handsome personnel to care for them." Letting the wink bleed through, his eyes scour the bar top for a moment when finally, pretty man holds up his drink and gives him a name. Teddy Ursa clinks his drink to the other's before smiling with that capitol award winning smile.

"Jakobi. An interesting name for a handsome fellow." The smile stays plastered to his face as he continues to rise up. Letting his own shirt expose some more skin, running his hand through his hair carefully to fluff it up a bit more. Green eyes mixing with blue ones. Voice tempered with a slight drunken confidence as he leans in ever so slightly, letting his breath linger just a touch too close. "You sure know how to celebrate." A laugh on his lips as he can feel the bar's intense warmth already cross over him, sending him reeling for a second where warmth turns to lava and the noise turns into panicked breath, but he eases himself by wrapping his hand around the cold drink in front of him.

"So... What's next for you in this celebration?"

Celebrations were meant to be had.

Flynn Garner had come home, so fuck it.

"Because there's plenty of ways I think you should be rewarded."