With great risks come great rewards! the sign read, in small, cheerful block lettering. Scott narrowed his eyes when he noticed it, sitting back on the buffet table, eclipsed by the colorful fruits and baked goods stacked around it. His plate was already half full of food, at that point, but he was glad he hadn't sampled as he'd moved down the table. He'd been tempted, of course - his anti-anxiety medication gave him a hell of an appetite - but he tended to be a little close-minded about new food. And he didn't recognize any of this fruit, which had him hesitating to try any of it in the first place. Great risks, though, gave him even more pause. Set off alarms that weren't supposed to be going off, not with this amount of alprazolam in his system.
He'd taken half a pill more than he usually did for Capitol functions in anticipation of being, well, more anxious. Victor's balls were one thing. Being back in an arena, any arena, was an entirely different animal. Add to that the idea of edible risks, and Scott was a little more sober than usual at this point in the night. There would be no escaping from this party, he supposed. At least he'd managed to take the edge off.
The urge to dump his plate was strong, but he held onto it firmly as he continued down the table, picking from what was offered until it was full. A large man breezed by as Scott turned away from the table, clutching his stomach and retching as he went. Risk, a small voice in the back of his head chirped, and his eyes followed the man until he caught a shock of familiar red hair in his periphery. Natasha was standing at the other end of the large table, looking.. unhappy? It was hard to say. Scott had grown so used to her public persona that to see her anything but smiling and agreeable seemed off.
More alarm bells. Was she just frustrated having to be here, like he was, or had something gone wrong? Scott drifted her way, figuring approaching her was win-win: either he'd be staying abreast of unhappy developments, or he'd find someone to commiserate with. "Hey, you wanna help me pretend to eat this food?" he asked, leaning down to murmur in her ear as he sidled up beside her. "I'm not feeling the whole risk/reward theme--wasn't looking to gamble with shitting my pants tonight." Scott flashed her a grin, because even though she was struggling for neutral, he was able to muster up some charm.
Cassie was coming in the morning, after all, and even though he hated the idea of her fawning over the arena and its horrific landmarks, he still wanted to see her.