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Fulvia sat alone at one of the tables, her untouched meal laid out before her. She idly maneuvered her fork around the plate, pushing the food back and forth in a futile attempt to appear occupied. The abundance of food felt like a stark contrast to the hunger that plagued so many in Panem, a reality that weighed heavily on her conscience.

El's shoulders drew up slightly as she answered. "Fun. I guess I'm talking about ways we got a little excitement when we were young." She recognized the other's flat tone, the detachment in her regard for the conversation. But then, dealing with the bloodbath came about in many different ways for people. Her mother often disappeared into her workshop afterward, one of her sisters sought out noise and distraction. "The world used to offer those things up on a silver platter to kids."

Link had handled Dot's death with her standard hassle and worry. it hadn't taken an hour, instructing an avox on how to prepare the room, writing a note to her mother and giving it to Nano to sign. For now, she had nothing else to do, so she went wandering. somehow, to the fifth floor. somehow, to electra. "I'm sorry." Link offered, gentle in it's worry. "It never gets easier. some say it does if you never try in the first place, but I can't bring myself to do that."

She'd never half-assed a job in her life. And in some selfish part of her she knew some of this was just that old nagging drive not to fail. To find the solution. She nodded at Link's words, "It's the work. You get it done." That was a common saying when the day grew long in five, or a particular bit of machinery gave you a headache. "How's your remaining tribute?"

"And yet even line dancing is a bit strange, isn't it?" Holland replied, her tone still musing. "It's odd to do something in sync. Odd for us all to gather here and watch this, odd for me as a Gamemaker to prep everything and then set it all loose. It's just-- odd." Unnatural, that'd be a good word for it, but that sounded a bit too anti-Games.

"It's a -" El's brows drew together, half wondering if this was some sort of trap, the capitol was all eyes and ears after all "-tradition." She hated how sour that word tasted in her mouth, but she pushed past it, schooled her features to right. "I think humans are the oddballs. Just our whole deal. Like that," she nodded at the coffee menu. "Olive oil in coffee? Is there an explanation? Do I even want to know?"

"There's always work to be done here as well. I guess I wasn't aware how time consuming keeping the lights on would be." Perhaps she was a little bitter, hurt that they hadn't been in contact as much as they used to be. Hopefully that could change now that Electra was back, just because her feelings were a little hurt didn't mean she wanted to lose Electra as a friend. "Any skills that could be valuable in the arena? Compared to the other tributes?"

"Or how shit of a friend I could be," she added. There was an ease in cutting strings with the capitol. It felt a bit like placing all that noise behind a locked door. But ignoring things was over now, she was back in the thick of it and with a tribute still to fight for. "Only thing of value they've got right now is their life. Same as you and me, Coral. They're no one's favorite, but they deserve the support."

Holland was proud of the safari, the mutts they'd put there. She was waiting for tributes to venture that way only because she wanted to see how it'd go, though that excitement in her stomach did make her feel a bit sick as well, like she was what was wrong with all of this. These thoughts were what was on her mind as she waited in line for a coffee, having been up for too many hours now and with too many hours to go. The breaks in her shifts were relatively short at the start of the Games, especially since she'd taken on a more active role in crafting these mutts and now knew more about them than most others on her team. "What a strange song and dance we're all trapped in," she murmured allowed.

There were a series of long nights ahead and that wasn't a strange sensation for El. There were stretches at the old damn where she'd stay awake for nights on end working on a faulty piece, listening to the machinery hum. They'd drink shitty coffee and live off jerky and after staring at the fanciful coffee menu before her, she almost missed that simplicity. Her gaze quirked toward Holland when she heard the other girl murmuring. "Is it strange?" she asked. "All seems pretty par for the course right? Like line dancing in ten." She'd seen it on her victory tour before, the synchronization blurring her vision.

"How about we start with one drink and you tell me what you've been up to all this time..." They used to see each other a lot more frequently, especially in her first year as they bonded over winning their games. Electra had been there for her when she'd been a shell of herself. "I already told Lee I'd try and help Linden if I could. And since my tributes didn't make it out the bloodbath, I've got a lot of free time on my hands. You've been out of the game for a bit, but I trust your judgement. What do you think Phila's chances are?" Coral wasn't entirely sober at the moment, then again she rarely was.

She nodded, tucking her chin in as her gaze drifted downward. That was called for. District five wasn't all that far from the capitol. She'd been working in the shadow of this city for years now, letting her connections fizzle. "I've been keeping the lights on," she said, looking back up to her old friend. "There's always work to be done in five." The kind that didn't make her feel stretched thin. The kind that left her body a little sore at the end of the day. "As for my tribute well," she nodded toward the scoreboard, "that's not too far off. They need something to focus them, or they'll be cannon fodder."

As she usually did on the first day, Coral stayed in the tower for the launch of the games, as she believed watching it with other people around was less terrible than sitting in her apartment by herself. It also helped in being proactive with sponsors, going right to the source to get gifts for her tributes. Only this time she hadn't even had the time to send them anything because both Meagan and Ray died before the games even started. "Of course I'm disappointed that my tributes didn't make it very far this year, but there's always next year, right?" She pressed her lips together into a quick smile. "There are plenty of other skilled tributes to keep an eye on. I for one am putting my money on Linden from district 7..." She trailed off, winking at the person next to her. Lee had told her his tribute had a child waiting for her at home. If anyone deserved to get a shot at more sponsorships, it was her.

"And how many drinks will it take you to toss a little of that cash at Phila?" El rested a hand against the back of one of the couches, grimacing at the odds for her remaining tribute. The kid was too wrapped in their own head, too easy pickings for one of the better armed tributes. She'd stick with them until the cannon though. "Or have you gone cold on five since I've been away?"

"I've really thought about it, and I just think leaving while the bloodbath is happening is the smartest thing anyone could do – it's so immediately gruesome and personally, I don't feel like I've missed anything important," Moxie stated in more of a murmur than her normal chirpy, overly-excited voice. "The only important part of that is who died and my stomach is just too weak to see how horrific it can be for them."

El, resting at the back of the viewing room with her feet up on the armrest across from her, looked to the escort with some surprise. Weak stomachs were rare enough in her experience. In the districts, the harshness was a fact of life, here it seemed to be a spectator sport. "And here, I've heard rumors about people paying for the 4D experience," she said, crossing her arms. Rooms she assumed, that got you just close enough to taste and smell the arena. "You can turn your back if you like. I'll let you know if either of your two survive."