sʜᴀʟᴇ (shale) wrote in gamesofpanem, @ 2015-05-15 14:47:00 |
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Entry tags: | ! capitol, - 66th hunger games, victor: 17th drusa quartz, victor: 55th lucretia lyme |
WHO: Lyme, Drusa, and Lavinia Coldcreek
WHAT: mayhem at the midway
WHEN: during Titania's party
PLOT SLOT: Scheming social climber Lavinia Coldcreek has been blackballed from all of this year's most glamorous parties (the rumors on why vary wildly)
It felt really good in a lot of ways, being the last district with two tributes left alive, but the downside, such as it were, was that the mentors had to keep on firing on all cylinders. Lyme loved the strategy portion, talking to the tributes, figuring out how to help them respond in the arena. Socializing and sponsorship, on the other hand? She could do without. She couldn't, of course, so, as much as she longed to skip Titania Blossom's annual halftime party, Lyme had to attend. Not only that, but she had to make the most of the night by bringing a guest who had promised sponsorship in exchange for a spot on the guestlist (being listed under a victor's "+1" on the guest list totally counted). As the party got underway, it became apparent why Lavinia Coldcreek hadn't received an invitation of her own. In the first minutes of festivities, Lyme dragged her away from no less than three arguments, but the woman was slippery, and Lyme had gotten distracted trying to bat a puffy ball of mist away from her face. Then she heard Lavinia's shrill voice. Fight #4. "How dare you! That was my spicy meatball!" Beyond a clot of clouds and scandalized, fluffy socialites, Dru held a meatball pierced by a tiny lightning rod like she was baiting a dog. "This meatball?" She asked, with a little too much mockery around her mouth. Lavinia's throat turned the color of barbecue sauce, and the rest of her might have too if it weren't spackled with a thick layer of pastel blue. She squawked something that might have been YES! as Drusa neatly popped the meatball into her mouth and began to chew. Lavinia didn't take the time to consider how ill-advised it might be to attack a District 2 victor before she lunged for the other woman. She didn't make it very far, however, before another District 2 victor barreled into her side in a neatly-executed takedown, made all the more impressive for the change in center of gravity induced by towering heels. "Get off of me!" Lavinia shrieked from the ground, but she remained thoroughly pinned. Lyme looked up at the target of Lavinia Coldcreek's rage. "Hi, Drusa." Dru finished chewing in no particular hurry, though the lightning rod skewer was tight in her fist, sharp point turned down. Probably best that Lyme had taken a less lethal approach. Probably. She looked down at her last victor with a cool sort of affection: "My hero." Lavinia squirmed and flailed, but she couldn't break free from three years of District 2's finest instruction and over a decade of Peacekeeping experience. Lyme's perpetual scowl softened for a moment. She still wasn't immune to her mentor's approval. Taking stock of the situation, Lyme noted the sharp point in Drusa's hand, the stares that the situation had brought. The situation would have been under control one way or another. "Don't worry, she's already paid," Lyme said. She pinned her captive's arms behind her back. "Maybe we'll get some more as a thank you for getting her out of here. Could you hand me that napkin? I need something to tie her hands." With a lilting 'ha!', Drusa traded a passing waiter the skewer for a napkin, which she then offered to Lyme, taking great care to plant her sensible heel into Lavinia's mink stole. Her love of the Capitol did not extend equally to all of its inhabitants—though there was something to be said for the Coldcreek woman's tenacity. "Lyme, I had no idea you were keeping such spirited company." "You know me, I'd do anything for our sponsors." With the cloth napkin tied into a sort of handcuffs, Lyme sat back and eased Lavinia Coldcreek to her feet. By this point, the party's actual on-duty Peacekeepers had arrived, wearing white as opposed to Lyme's black. She passed off her captive with a nod of recognition. As if nothing had happened, Drusa looped her arm through Lyme's crooked elbow and guided her away from the scene of the party crime. She enjoyed Lyme—it was hard not to—and delighted in her still-youthful antics. Yet, she often felt like the mentor to her long ago tribute. So she said, mildly, fondly: "Always hold a little back, Lucretia. Anything can so quickly become everything." |