a poisoned gift; fox

[kousei ♚]

► ► ►

Her social circles had very little to say about Tulip Arsenault. That in itself piqued her interest. But when her journalists had very little to say about her, that made her drop her lose her goddamn mind. The thought picked at the back of her mind like a scalpel against dead flesh, piercing the walls of her skull like a needle and thread. The invitation to dinner had sat on her desk for weeks, its fate unknown.

She knew of ACE entertainment, obviously, but she knew nothing of its inner workings. Very little had been written about it. Shit, she'd never covered it when she wrote articles for news. The fact she knew so little of its people meant two things; they weren't worth her time or they were a gem waiting to be uncovered. She would only find out if she went and actually met the girl.

There was only one reason why she would want to meet Eva of all people.

Her business model attracted interest like a moth to a flame. The forward-thinking business leaders knew that the internet was the future and the fate of their business's reputations sat in the court of public opinion. And the jury loved to look at their screens all day.

So, she'd had her secretary inform them that she'd be attending. When the day came she'd already had her outfit picked out a week before. A smart, navy dress with white high heels and a designer handbag. Her personal assistant had been given the address of the restaurant where they were to meet and already knew where to go. Truth be told, everyone who was someone knew what this restaurant was. Soul Dining. It was impossible to ever get a reservation and yet the elites who dominated Panem's hierarchy fought tooth and nail to get reservations.

And yet Tulip had gotten a reservation just for her. Eva was grudgingly impressed.

When they arrived at the place, Eva stepped out. "Go find a place to park, I'll call you when I need to be picked up." She told him politely.

"Of course, Ma'am." He replied with a quick bow of his head. And then he was gone.

When she stepped through the doors, she found the restaurant was buzzing with activity. Yet it felt off. Almost artificial. Why is no one drinking? She wondered to herself.

Her thought was cut off when she was greeted. "Evangeline Richards? Right this way, Ma'am." The waiter led her to her table. It was right by a window, just so they got some street light and no other table was right next to them.

"Thank you." She said as she sat down.

"Miss Arsenault will be with you very shortly. But here is a bottle of our house white wine, pre-ordered for your table." He motioned to the expensive wine bottle already in ice on their table. He poured her a glass. "I hope it is to your taste."

When she sipped her glass, she tasted power.

[fox]

T   U   L   I   P

There is a reason why Cypress had not wed quietly at the altar of the courthouse in city hall, despite the sham of the whole affair. Father had fireworks soar over the rooftops of the city, a guest list of thousands, and the wedding went for three days – three days of white lace and roses and vows written by the greatest playwrights of the generation.

My father loved the spectacle.

Maybe that was why he chose entertainment, of all the ventures he could've gone into to turn his millions into so many millions more.

And here was his favourite trick for conducting business.

The actors settle into their places between tables and scripted small talk, props rearranged one more time by the set designer. My assistant walks behind me with a checklist, noting unfinished details through Soul Dining – a piece of silverware missing from a bowl, a painting slightly tilted, a man missing a cufflink. And in the afternoon, the restaurant is pulled together at the seams again. I have broken it, and then I have rebuilt it around my need.

Just before seven, my assistant tells me Evangeline Richards is on her way. I put together the clasp on a jade bracelet, glancing at him from the mirror before us. "Tell a waiter to set the table with the wine before we start."

When I see her, she's sitting in place, sipping on the white I picked from father's very own collection, something crisp and lean from a winery in District Four, a floral pattern embossed in matte glass.

I think there's no secret to our meeting. When father was alive, he killed all the little birds that chirped the songs of skeletons, funneled money into the papers and websites, and so his private life was kept private, his business was spotless to the press.

When he died, the bolt was loosened.

And in the months following his passing, in the turmoil of an unspecified inheritance, secrets slipped from underneath the cracks of an empire that trembled from its core.

But enough is enough.

I smile as I approach. "Ms. Richards, such a pleasure to finally meet. I hope you find the wine to your liking."

A waiter comes on cue, pulling the chair out for me. He pours me a glass from the bottle.

A year ago, the board prepared a manila folder on her, banal bits about her work history and personal life, and no deeper investigation had been done. Evangeline Richards is, of course, perfect – not so much as a smudge of a scandal, and I suppose it only makes sense that her own business had been washed with an ivory bar of soap.

The city lights outside the window swathes us in changing hues. I think there is a curiosity here, a small desire to peel open her skull, unspool her brain, and peer inside.

No power is gained without sacrifice.

Now seated before her, I meet her eyes, a suggestion of a smile on my face. "Of course we have some business to discuss, but I think we should become acquainted first. I like to learn about the people I meet, and perhaps we'll find we have some common ground."

The board does not need to know everything we discuss.

"Please, I would love to know more about Panem Exposed from the host herself – what your vision is, what you hope to accomplish."

IN A STAIN STEEL SPHERE.

[kousei ♚]

► ► ►

The whole restaurant seemed so artificial.

Not in the usual way the Capitol was. Everyone in the Capitol wore a mask, covered themselves in glitter and expensive clothes, and convinced themselves they were the happiest in the world. Artificial smiles and fake kisses against plastic cheeks at parties were simply a way of life for someone driven by ambition in the Capitol.

And yet the restaurant still stood out to her. She ignored it and took a sip of her wine. Before she could think too deeply, her vision was caught by her host.

Tulip Arsenault looked far younger than she'd imagined. Her lips were pulled into a polite smile and she was draped in riches. "Ms. Richards, such a pleasure to finally meet. I hope you find the wine to your liking." The sound of her voice was so sweet, so polite, and inoffensive. Spotless.

Eva smiled as Tulip sat down. She was right, they had business to discuss but it was never wise to be so direct. This was the delicate dance of business and socializing. No one knew whether they were the huntress or the prey, they were simply women looking out for their own interest. Whether that meant she needed to devour Tulip whole or not was an issue she had not solved yet. They were simply locked, bound by their ambition.

Eva knew what Tulip wanted, and Tulip knew that Eva knew what Tulip wanted.

Eva hid her smile behind a sip of wine when Tulip asked about her and her business - she relished the opportunity to talk about herself. Eva had heard the question many times, always rephrased in some way but her answer never changed.

She swirled the glass of wine in herself, her movements were mechanical. "I've always had a passion for journalism, and for writing. Especially writing stories; because everyone loves a good story. At university, I was the editor for the school newspaper and when I was done I went into writing for newspapers," she made herself sound longing, her eyes wandering to the window as she looked at the city as she reminisced. "Before my dear husband died, he always said I had a face made for television. I think it was the cheekbones." She giggled, but it was a lie. He'd never said she would look good on television. But the best lies were ones she believed. It was all part of her carefully crafted mask - it was impossible to shatter.

"He believed in me, so I figured I would try and find my own way. It's what he would've wanted me to do," She took a sip of her wine and kept her voice sweet. "As for my vision, well, the internet isn't quite television but it's even better. It's on-demand and it's everywhere. Everyone loves to know other people's business. Especially when it's the business of the rich, the powerful, and the famous. I want everyone in Panem to be one click away from finding out everything about anyone."

Because information was power.

She smiled, letting the emphasis on her words hang in the space between them. She set her glass down. "This wine is amazing by the way."

[fox]

T   U   L   I   P

I think most people are stupid –

Or not stupid, just ambitionless.

Or worse, stupid with ambition.

In Soul Dining, every spoon has a position of a three quarter inch from the plate.

And people are no more than silverware, each with their place at the table. Even all the stupid people with their inconsequential, silly ambitions, climbing from the shadows of father's affairs, had a purpose too – their bodies meant for my target practice, their blood a debt paid to me.

I can't place Evangeline yet.

But she is certainly not stupid.

"He believed in me, so I figured I would try and find my own way. It's what he would've wanted me to do." She laughs when she says this, and I smile back.

There's a camera in the crystal of the chandelier weeping above us like rain drops falling from a cloud, and thirty-seven others are scattered across the restaurant tucked in clothing and hidden in the details of furniture. Evangeline Richards is underneath a glass eye like a specimen, an organism examined and studied and researched. And would there be an imperfect gesture?

When my mother died, I think it was interesting how I became so little of a person. People thought me weak because death had brushed over me with a cool palm, soft and easy, taking away the things that were mine with such a gentle fist.

Nothing has ever pissed me off more than people offering their condolences.

So I do.

"That's so sweet. He sounds like he was a charming person – I'm sorry for your loss."

She sips the wine, voice as sweet as before. And she doesn't need to say it for it to be understood that information, beautiful and plentiful, is a resource too. It's something to desire, to rage wars for, to die for.

"That is certainly ambitious. But from what I've heard, I don't doubt you can accomplish it." I raise my glass, "A toast to a prosperous future."

The wine tastes herbaceous, acidic. Father used to go to wineries on business trips, always searching for the finer things in life despite the tangle of blood and business he lived in. I set the glass down.

"I think I understand. There's been a boom in the internet the past few years. But like anything, it has to be tamed." I sit back in my chair, resting on the sandalwood chair. "I agree. Information should be free, in the hands of anyone, but it needs a conduit. And a conduit needs a fee – for maintenance of course."

IN A STAIN STEEL SPHERE.

[kousei ♚]

► ► ►

Lying hadn't always come easy to Eva.

It was an art form she perfected, a skill she honed over years and practice. Manipulation was a contrived game to her; she tried, she failed, she tried again, she failed again, the cycle on and on until she got it just right. Her eye twitch held her back, it was a dead giveaway when she lied. Just behind her glasses and it was obvious. So she tried, practiced in front of mirrors in her bedroom until it became as easy as breathing.

"That's so sweet. He sounds like he was a charming person – I'm sorry for your loss."

There was no eye twitch. Just an artificial smile and a respectful nod in her direction. "He really was, I think he certainly would have liked you." Eva replied sweetly.

No eye twitch; as easy as breathing.

Eva listened as Tulip spoke, toasting to and complimenting her ideas, and she nodded along excitedly. It took all she had to contain her excitement, but she did. Especially as Tulip danced around the point, almost grasping just what she wanted to say but skimming shallow. Tulip was young, but she was clearly bright and professional, Eva could respect that. She was not capable of such things at that age.

A conduit, interesting.

When Eva grinned, there wasn't so much as a hint of malevolence in her eyes. "Of course, that is my goal to make information available to everyone. Useful information though. For example, did you hear about that awful chemical spill in District Six? It contaminated the water with toxic chemicals. I was the first one in the entire Capitol to cover that story, and it's a good job I did because then my viewers knew to buy Klean's latest water filters."

Of course, people who did their homework would know that the 'awful' chemical spill was simply a barrel that fell into a river and the only things that could've been poisoned were any fish who swam there. Any water in that river probably didn't make it anywhere near the Capitol, but no one could prove it didn't. So it wasn't technically a lie.

If Tulip took a closer look at her show's sponsors, she would notice that Klean was a prominent sponsor of the show, hence the convenient ad drop after the story was covered. But no one noticed, everyone in the Capitol was nothing but a robot. Looking for reasons to spend fuck, and be outraged.

Easy to manipulate, and it didn't matter how much her damn eye twitched.

Eva leaned forward, her chin resting on her fist as she began to muse. "Amazing isn't it? How information can change people's fortunes just like that," she clicked her fingers to emphasize her point. "And my viewer count grows with every episode of Panem Exposed I upload, soon the entire Capitol will be watching. Everyone will have free access to all that information, and I intend to put out some juicy stories."

Eva let her words hang between them, she caught the attention of one of the waiters. "Hello, yes, I'll have the steak, please. Medium rare. Lovely, thanks."

Sweet smile, no eye twitch; just like she practiced.

[fox]

T   U   L   I   P

I think I tire easily of people and their vices, their ordinary lives, the tedium of their earthly detail. When I was younger, I would pursue desire with relentless persistence, and in turn, people would pacify me with spectacular gifts.

Me – poor, little, motherless girl, given seasons of new clothes, toys, and people. Until they became uninteresting to me again, and my boredom grew teeth.

Maybe that is my weakness.

There is always something I want.

Now she sits before me for dinner, my new favourite thing, and I feel a devouring desire.

I like the way Evangeline Richards glitters with every word, perched like a jewel atop of her shiny new business. She is calm and steady, ruthlessness like a needle, and she is such an actress too – gestures that lead to an idea of a person, lines and laughs delivered so naturally she could sell anything as real. She could point to a person and herald them as an idol, she could look at someone and spill their sins.

The waiter comes by with a smile and a script, a man who is charming but ordinary, forgettable but pleasant. My assistant had handed me an e-folder of our newest talent, and I'd flipped through every face and picked all the ones I never looked twice at. People like this barely break into memory.

"Yes, and the bluefin for me. Thank you."

He leaves, and on cue the din quiets slightly for us to speak.

"Of course. Useful information – the truth is scarce these days. I can see how getting this information is necessary."

Conversation becomes business now with no perceptible change in the atmosphere. I sip wine, look out the window briefly as if in thought, before turning back to her.

"My father was a philanthropist before he passed, and there were many things he believed that would make the world a better place. Capitol citizens deserve to know the truth freely." A pause. "I'd like to continue his legacy of giving back to the people."

And I smile, fold my hands together on my lap.

"Please accept my patronage Ms. Richards, I'd be delighted to invest in the wellbeing of our people and our country, and of course in the wellbeing of our respective companies."

IN A STAIN STEEL SPHERE.