Out Loud // [Fitz +Cadence]

[Baby Wessex d9b [earthling]]

On one rare, sunny day off, Fitz realized it was probably in everyone’s best interest if he invested in some new essentials. He was loathe to leave his comfortable perch in the far corner of the Capitol, running the Avox Pits. Normally even when he had accrued enough vacation hours to take leave, he invested the time in a staycation, lounging around with the less dangerous fighters, eating in the mess hall, reading by the washing pond. In short, he spent his free time like he did his work time.

The only thing the pit didn’t provide was fresh clothes and a varied diet. Once a quarter or so, he would venture into the center of the Capitol. He couldn’t have picked a better day. The sun was full in a blue sky, the breeze cool and caressing. He’d let down his mane of hair from the required top knot. It crawled over the shoulders of his black nylon jacket, got tangled around the color of his pale plaid shirt. His clothing didn’t identify him; not even the boxy body beneath would have given any clear hint. He was too tall, too lanky, and much too relaxed to be a Peacekeeper.

For today, he indulged in the disguise of a regular citizen. He just had to be careful not to dally too long in the costume, lest he forget himself. As he turned down the style street, he ends of his fingertips came to life with adrenaline. They pulsed, itched, yearned. He had time. He could stop for a moment, just a small little investment; no one would have to know. His breaths came more quickly, heartbeat in his throat as he paused at the blinking betting board.

Only twelve tributes left.

He licked his lower lip and stepped forward, into a tea shop. It wasn’t a place he would ever have considered frequenting, if not for the immediate distraction it presented. He scanned the tables, looking for a familiar face. He came up empty. He knew that if he turned back to the street, his resolve would fail. So lacking a friend, he chose a distraction.

“Excuse me. Is this seat taken, Ms. Fortissimo?” He asked, his voice as smooth as the polite words. Lucky for him, Cadence was the epitome of practical; he would have recognized her trim appearance anywhere. With her leave, he seated himself, one ankle coming on top of the opposite knee. He studied her, just for a moment, before extending his hand. "Innocent FitzTucker, Peacekeeper of the Pits. My friends call me Fitz."

[charade]

gamemaker

Cadence
Fortissimo

Up on the mountain I see down below

After the absolutely dismal bloodbath that the quell had started off with, Cadence was thrilled that the playing field had finally been cut in half; and that some strong competitors were still very much alive. She had lost good money the previous year, having bet on Mason Hammerfell and Alexis from four, only for both of them to die in the feast. That lanky excuse of a victor from eleven had gone home with the crown, and Cadence was as disappointed to see that girl win as she had been the year before when the ginger from five had beaten the odds as well.

Thankfully, the quell had not had nearly as many surprises as the last two years, even with fan favorite Elya dying first. There were a few tributes that Cadence was keeping an eye on, and she was confident that district seven could very well pull out a win. As she watched one of the betting boards update in real time, she stirred the vanilla chai tea in front of her. There was a tea house on style street that afforded a pleasant view of several screens stationed just outside its window, and Cadence frequented it to get a warm drink. They offered a selection of pastries in a variety of flavors as well, but she hadn't indulged as she was not stressed, thus she had no reason to cheat on her diet. It was around this time that a face that was known to her popped in and asked whether or not it could take the seat across from her.

Innocent Fitztucker. While she hadn't met the man before, she knew who he was. She made it a point to keep up to date with who was who in the Capitol; even if she detested the frequent parties and soirees that were thrown on a weekly basis, it paid to stay informed. She tilted her head at the seat and watched him sit down like a hellcat stalking through the tall grass towards its next meal. He introduced himself and she smirked. " Ah yes, the top rated imitation of the annual hunger games.How very droll." she said with a sliver of amusement in her voice; sipping at her tea and looking at him over the rim of the mug. "I imagine attendance must take a dive when the games are in full swing."

                                        

IT'S EASY TO LOSE YOURSELF I KNOW
Table by Anzie

[googlefont="Raleway:400"]

[Baby Wessex d9b [earthling]]

[googlefont="Bilbo Swash Caps:400"]

Peacekeeper Innocent Fitztucker

Her smirk is by far the best thing about Cadence Fortissimo. He's seen it on television, but the screen doesn't do her justice. It's a work of art, curving just far enough to indent her cheek, her pale eyes darkening in judgment. He almost misses what she says, so lost is he in admiration. "Ah yes, the top rated imitation of the annual hunger games. How very droll."

He finds that he cannot match her smirk for smirk, not when she's dropping droll into their first exchange. He leans back an inch, his clasped fingers hooking around his knee. This allows him to straighten his elbows, to open up some room in front of his chest: a personal bubble. Instead of smirking, he drops his chin, accepting the accolade as though it were offered in good faith. "Between silence and sound, I serve," he quoted the Pits handbook, matching her tone, if not her expression. His still had budged from his fixed smile, his soft eyes. He didn't know Cadence, only Ms. Fortissimo, the Gamemaker. There was no advantage to be had in presenting her with Fitz, when she was already acquainted with Innocent Fitztucker.

"I imagine attendance must take a dive when the games are in full swing."

"Attendance bottoms out around thirty percent," he admitted as he flagged down a server. "Black tea with mint and honey, please. But we make use of the reduced attendance to try new arena obstacles and matchups. We always plan our training season to end around the start of the Games, so our newest pit fighters have a bit of experience before attendance soars"

He speaks primarily with his hands, mimicking a mug as he orders, indicating the lowered attendance with a nose dive, circling the air to indicate the start of a new Games, and lifting his flat palm to the sky as it soars. He draws the hand lazily back to his knee as he says, "We always put on the best show we can, no matter what the time of year. And you? Are you enjoying the myriad entertainment the Quell offers?"