the meaning of life - 89th Ball!

[ryan]

d a n n y .

"come on skinny love
just last the year
pour a little salt
you were never here."

Danny took a sip of the bubbly that he had plucked for an avox’s serving tray. It was cold to the touch, refreshing, and made him think about how weird it was that his parents were even privy to something like this. Sure, he knew that they were excited that his parents were keen on the idea, but he was even more curious to see what they play was. Obviously this wasn’t done out of the kindness of their hearts, but more out of some stunt. He couldn’t figure out what it was exactly, but he really didn’t have the time anyway to inquire. He had a games to prepare, and he had tributes that he needed to see out in the wild.

Danny was quite surprised that something like this wasn’t done before. Danny had always wondered why the capitol had never given the tributes more chances to just live. After all, at this point, it seemed like common courtesy? Right? Like, giving the tributes a chance to just be humans for another night wasn’t too much of an ask. At least, not in Danny’s mind. It was explained to him very clearly that his parents had used quite a few favors to get this party going, and honestly, Danny knew it probably pained his father to use them. After all, it wasn’t for his favorite child. 

It made the bubbly taste that much sweeter.

---

Danny had walked down the stairs after noticing that some of the victors were starting to arrive. They were surrounded by groups of peace keepers, probably just to make sure that no one tried any funny business. Good. Many of their guests, the capitol citizens, had already arrived, knowing well that this party would probably be a raging success based off the tribute parade. Danny had a feeling that this would go down in history, and quite honestly, he was excited to see what exactly was going to happen on a night like this. 

Danny was at the crossroads of humanity, and he felt like he was choosing the path least traveled by. 

More and more people poured in, each one seemed more eager to meet the tributes as they joined the festivities. Danny had made sure that each tribute had at least one additional bit of security on top of their mentor being with them through the evening. After all, the victors were more than welcome to indulge, though Danny didn’t think it would be too advantageous if they did so. The last thing any tribute needed was their mentor ruining their chances to get something the desperately needed in the arena.

Danny’s parents waited for everyone to arrive before making a speech about how excited they were to have everyone here in their home. Danny thought they were just blowing it out of their ass, but also, he was thankful that they now had an opportunity to make some sort of history. 

Time passed, and Danny had found himself in the middle of the floor. He was more than excited for anything to happen.

elegant

PAT: 484

[Deleted]

I was nervous, quiet. This was different than the previous events I had taken part in. It was different than interacting with other tributes in the Training Center - far from the view of the public. Or the spar with Bastian, the audience unseen. Or even the interview where I could focus on Wally, ignoring the world around me. But here? There was no ignoring all of the people around me, the people who held my life in their hands.

I knew I needed to get over my wallflower tendencies and rub elbows, meet sponsors. But it was all a bit overwhelming coming from Eleven, even with a warning beforehand. All of the lights, sounds, even how the Capiolites dressed was a far cry from what I had experienced back home. I tried not to let my nervousness show, even if I couldn't fake extraversion right now, I could fake confidence.

The mask helped a little bit, I opted for one that actually stayed on my face. Thought it might help with my anxiety levels, even if I wasn't normally an anxious person. Plus, I can just take it off if I need too. And it has the added advantage of both my hands being free. I can shake hands with one hand and hold a drink with the other. Because if I'm going to get through this night, I'm going to need a drink. Or I need to just get over myself, whatever happened first. I walked around the venue a little, trying to get a feel for it, trying to make myself comfortable enough to talk to people.

As I walked around the room, in the center of the floor I noticed one of the Gamemakers, Danny something. He was obviously the one who had put this whole thing together. But why? What did he gain from us tributes getting sponsors? Did Gamemakers get a cut of the pay or something? I doubted he was doing this out of the kindness of his heart. I was tempted to ask him, but that man could cost me my life in an instant. That was far too risky.

This was a dream come true for me, being here in the Capitol. Back when I wanted to be a Peacekeeper, my ultimate goal was to be stationed here. But now that I was here? I was a bit too shell-shocked to drink anything. I grabbed a drink from a server to try to loosen up a bit, but of course it was non-alcoholic. Isn't there anywhere around here for a teenager to grab some booze?

[charade]

N y l o n .

"All my friends are heathens, take it slow
Wait for them to ask you who you know
Please don't make any sudden moves
You don't know the half of the abuse"

They picked red, and I approve.

It’s an eye-catching dress. Red is a color that attracts attention, that induces people’s mouths to water. A reminder of the blood that I’m going to be spilling a few weeks from now. You know, it’s strange, I don’t remember seeing anything like this on television before. Either they never bother to air it, or they just started doing it this year.

Maybe because of the caliber of their tributes.

It’s a party now. I mean, omigawd, not only do I get to meet with sponsors, but all the elites have turned out! There’s victors all over the place, even one’s I don’t care about, but still!! A banquet spread fit for royalty, and of course, my fellow tributes. All twenty-three of them.

Well, nothing’s perfect.

Still, the party didn’t start until I walked in, So I pose for the cameras, flash them a dazzling smile and a little leg, gotta give a little extra for the sponsors watching from home you know? Ha! My siblings are either dying from envy or dead from it by now. A gingham victor in the making and its none of them.

I even spy a gamemaker or two. Some former, some present. One capitolite is wearing a shirt that says “Dom Copperview Lives” for some reason. I think I even manage to spot Glamour Kincade somewhere in the back, I mean, that guy is everywhere, and he looks really good for his age.

Abel O’Malley is nearby, looking lost at sea, and I have to shake my head before a sponsor wrangles me into a conversation about how pretty I am, and how they really hope I win so they can get a chance to know me better.

Gawd, this is the life, I don’t even have to try to be popular, I just am.

A popular song starts, something by DJ Roomba and I can’t stop myself from starting to sway to the beat.

Mom always told me that an onscreen romance would be integral to my victor narrative, would help boost my popularity with Capitolites who only wish they could live the kind of excitement that tributes do. Popular ones are star-crossed lovers and power couples, but honestly? I bet I could manage both. Or more. I think it’s better to keep the viewers guessing who has my heart.

Spoiler alert, it’s none of them, I don’t commit to anything longer than flings. If I wanted to be my mom, I’d still be with the stump I was dating freshman year.

Not to mention it’d be really stupid to try for something long-term when I’m planning on killing any of them that get in my way.

I make my way onto the dance floor anyway, because someone has to get the crowd going tonight.

Might as well be me.

I bat my eyes in the general direction of where several of my fellow tributes have congregated.

“Well?” I say rather loudly for the cameras, keeping a doe-eyed smile on my face.

“Who’s brave enough to have this dance with me?”

elegant

[rook]

that's disco, baby!

You think this whole ball is pointless. Of course, it's not about what you think, is it? The sponsors, the organisers, the financial backers, the shareholders. They are all far more important than you could ever hope to be in a thousand lifetimes. Their needs and wants tower over yours. You're a puppet in their pantomime, so shut up and dance to their tune.

They've put you in a white tuxedo, identical to the one you wore in your interview but reversed. Your accessory is a beaked ruby red apothecary mask, and your seaweed mop of hair bedraggles over it like a wet mop, making you look like some kind of vulture.

Nylon Gingham takes to the stage, centre of attention as always. She is stunning, the perfect figure in a red dress. How apt. In a few days she'll be wearing the red of our fellow tributes instead.

You've had your eye on her for a few days now. She's gorgeous, fit, young. She gets your blood racing. You know she's a stone cold killer and would snap your neck as soon as that claxon sounds, but in a sick way that kind of does it for you.

(Logic): Trust me when I say that this would be the worst idea anyone has ever had in human existence.

(Electro-Chemistry): Come on, you used to love sex. You're really fucking good at it, and the chicks love you. Why are you being such a dweeb?

(Logic): Do you really think it's sensible to flirt with someone who's going to be trying to kill you in a matter of days? Besides, she is so far out of your league it's absolutely laughable.

(Electro-Chemistry): Who cares man? That's never stopped you before. That's what girls like about you.

(Suggestion): It's actually a good idea. Getting closer to this girl will give you an edge, and maybe get in her head. You're not going to beat her any other way.

"Who's brave enough to have this dance with me?"

You step onto the dancefloor and into her bubble, so close that you can smell her fragrance.

(Hand-Eye Coordination): You move to the beat, swaying to the groove of the music.

(Electro-Chemistry): Feel it baby. Yeah. Music is in your soul, it's your fire. It's almost as good as drugs.

The way she moves to the music, it almost makes you want to laugh. This isn't a girl who grew up going to grunge raves in the industrial garages in Six. She doesn't know hardcore. You don't care though, it's endearing.

"You call that dancing, baby?"

(Electro-Chemistry): Show her how it's done. Show her what disco means.

[kap]

When the ball was announced, I was actually pretty excited about it. It sounded like a good opportunity to impress sponsors, and to perhaps see how the other tributes react when they're under pressure, in a way, because, well, social pressure and knowing you're being watched will still be something experienced in the arena. Their cameras will be observing our every moves, and if you have an alliance, there's that social pressure.

I was looking forward to showing off at the ball. I looked absolutely stunning, and I knew it. I looked good and therefore I felt good. I was like a queen and everyone else were peasants. I felt that power, just by wearing this dress and walking into the room, grace in my step.

I could see some of the other tributes when I got there, too. I recognized the volunteer boy from Eleven, but I couldn't place his name. The girl from One was within sight, too. I didn't know her name either. I wondered if it'd be wise to mingle with the tributes, or if I should focus on the sponsors.

The girl from One begins a dance with someone, and the boy from Eleven is asking where to get alcohol. He seems a bit young for it, but who am I to judge? I've been drinking since I was fourteen.

I noticed an avox walking around with some champagne to offer, and I don't think she realized I was one of the tributes as I swiped up two glasses of the stuff and approached the boy from Eleven. I made the drinks obvious in my hands as I approached him.

"I'll give you one, if you want," I offered. I wasn't sure why I was being nice to the guy. I didn't know him at all, but I suppose that there always has been a part of me that's been a bit inclined to help people out from time to time. That, or I just liked the idea of the risk that came with having alcohol that we probably shouldn't have. Trouble always called to me, after all.

table by griffin