𝐎.𝐂𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃 ⚜

are you? iza wondered, looking oslo over with a scrutinizing gaze. probably not, but he possessed enough grace to somewhat- slightly- believably profess as much. iza could appreciate that, they supposed. the comment about barbarism had their eyes widening-- but they fought to bury the reaction. interesting. "futile alliances that will get me killed, instead of futile escape routes that will get me killed. got it," iza said, sardonically. at least if they died like that, their fathers wouldn't have to watch it happen. their siblings. ty. they heaved a sigh and cast oslo a look, but took a seat beside him without needing any further invitation.

iza was difficult for a pleathora of reasons. but oslo was struggling to match their logic, their disdain. he didn't want to think about it too much. or how honest this conversation was. it lead to feeling attached, and that was what he was trying to avoid at all costs. at the same time, it wasn't in oslo's nature to sit there pessimistically and not help. "iza..." he began, slumping forward and and resting his head in his hands.

"is this a you simply musn't accept my help because i'm just district trash? or is this more about your own wounded pride and not wanting to appear weak in front of district trash?" peter's head tilted a little, as he lifted the still half full glass of water in his hand, shook it just enough that a few drops scattered over the lip and ran down his fingers. despite the inherent harsness of his words, there was a playful tone attached to them, and he moved a little closer to the capitol boy, oslo, if he was to be believed in this state. he extended the glass of water silently, didn't offer it again in anything but gesture.

"i don't think you're trash." oslo cut in sharply. in fact, he'd been in trouble more than a handful of times for feeling otherwise towards tributes. "you're simply meant to be enjoying the night, not nursing someone who's simply indulged in too much drink." he accepted peter's anger, and wouldn't stand there and tried to dissuade him. oslo thought he had every right to be angry. instead, he answered genuinely, "there is no persona. and i'm very sorry i can't send you back to them." he couldn't imagine. tail between his legs, oslo took the water, drank some, and spit out the rest before looking at peter, "everyone has an appearance to uphold tonight, wouldn't you say?"

"my apologies for ruining your fun." oslo told his brother stiffly, refusing to meet his eye. of all people who could've discovered him out here, this was the worst and by far the most embarrassing possibility. "what do you think i'm doing?" he quipped. he wasn't usually a difficult person, but he couldn't help it around orion. it wasn't his brother's fault, oslo really should learn to be less resentful. but laid bare and drunk in the open, it was difficult to hide it. the mention of their uncle was enough to make oslo sigh deeply, "as if he'll make an appearance tonight. you know he prefers to watch from afar the first couple of nights." their uncle disappeared from topic of conversation as he cut in-- "do not take me home."

Maybe Satin had been a bit of an ass with his Escort on the train, he just didn't see what the rich, pretty boy had to offer him. He was younger than him and had probably never had to fight for anything a day in his life. Sure charisma would get him sponsors, but so would his good looks, and of course his natural ability to win the games. Still, he supposed he'd have to see him for a while before the arena and maybe he should make nice with him, to make the other man happy.

oslo was thoroughly perplexed by satin's change of heart. perhaps it was the adrenaline from the party. or maybe something stronger. he wasn't one to judge...or assume, he himself had a fair bit to drink that evening. with a grimace, he raised his arm to pat satin's back, then pull away. the tribute was so excited, thrilled even. how would oslo feel if he allowed himself to get close, then saw his face dead in the sky weeks from now. "i'm afraid there's not much to know about me." he said curtly, then shamelessly guzzled from a flask. "the most valuable information you can learn is from your mentor...i insist...there's not much i can teach you." hopefully the simple statement would dispel him back to a night of fun.

𝐖𝐇𝐎: ethelia wildbloom & open

"ethelia, hello." oslo said grimly, pulling her in for a hug. as was customary between friends in the capitol. as they parted he left ethelia with a kiss on her fair cheek, "it's lovely to see you, really." though his excitement paled in comparison to hers. this whole lead up to the games felt like a cruel and prolonged funeral. usually he was able to forge his way past it, but not this year. "ethelia, please." he modestly looked down at the body length furs that blended with his suit. "i'm afraid i don't remember, i purchased this forever ago from a very small shop in the city. i never asked the designer." knowing his answer was unacceptable, oslo appeased his friend by adding, "perhaps after the games we'll spend an afternoon there. just you and i."

"well secretion discretion is the most important kind." thimble took the moment to appreciate the rhyming wordplay and giggled. a quick effort was made on her part to scooch over so that the towering figure had plenty of room to sit and even stretch out his legs if he liked. "who am I?" that was a loaded question. "hm." the real answer was probably hard to put into words, and it wasn't really what he wanted to know so she settled for just addressing the intention there instead. "I'm called thimble viridian rinaldi, and I am from little cove in district 8." she offered a hand as introduction, mimicking his own question like a mockingjay. "who are you?"

most tributes fell into one of two categories. total excitement elicited by the first time of reaching the capitol, or complete fear. thimble seemed to walk somewhere in the middle. naturally curious and very brave. his respect was immediately earned. oslo shook thimbles hand and introduced himself far less suavely than he would've liked, "my name is oslo copperhead and i...." he looked around then admitted, "i am from here." his head swirled while thimble talked around him. oslo didn't mind though. her takes were new and exciting. he felt drawn to listen and when she finished, to let her know, "i think you're miles ahead us here in the capitol." on cue with thimble, oslo's attention was pulled upwards, "no, those are real." the skies were enough to make anyone wistful, comforted. he thought about how there were no real stars in the arena, and considered how in a few short weeks, thimble would be there. how would she fare? oslo knew he was only supposed to care about his own tributes, but he just couldn't. solemnly, he dropped his head from the heavens and vowed to thimble, "if you need anything while you're here, please don't hesitate to seek me."

without judgement, oslo answered asena easily, "it's a fish. my uncle's favorite. he thinks them wise, likes to look over them swimming and mull." mulling himself, he stuck the nail of his thumb in his mouth-- gnawing. he much preferred it to the taste of vomit on his tongue. he thought about the fish and added, staring directly ahead, "there's ponds scattered all over the capitol, i must admit i'm surprised someone as observant as you hasn't noticed." it didn't matter though. there were more harrowing things to attend to when asena mavi made her way up to the capitol. "between you and me..." oslo began, turning to face asena. "you can complain. i assure you it will stay here." he thought that she had every right in the world to complain. but he dare not say it. dare not express disapproval for the games for the repercussions would be nasty. he shrugged, "you didn't ask for it either." and as far as the quell went...well, he knew nothing, and had he not been as drunk as he was, his lips would've been sealed. uncharacteristically bitter, he sighed, "you'd have better luck getting my brother to bark about the quell."

location: the tribute center participants: valor aurelius grout & open

"friendly as ever of you, valor aurelius." oslo chimed, pressing the button for twelve. he needed to have a word with their male tribute. strictly personal business, but nobody needed to know that. "are you unhappy with your prospects this year?" he asked, though had an inkling the victor was simply being himself. nobody asked oslo to check in on all the things he did, but while orion was busy rising in the ranks of importance, he tried to busy himself with making people feel comfortable. especially those who didn't have a death timer ticking above his head. "can i get you anything? i hate to see you so..." he gestured to signal, like this.

"oh, well that's okay." thimble assured him gently from their seated position on a step then pointed to a bush on the other side. "I hurled in that one like twenty minutes ago, but that's between you and me now, right? it's going to be our new spew buddy secret, because it's not a cute look for us." eating everything on the craft table was, in fact, impossible to do, but damn it all if thimble had not given it an earnest try.

oslo was surprised at the gentle voice beckoning from behind them. with raised brow, he turned around to size them up. he was silent for a long time, thrown off by their kindess. he had grown to know kindness as a suspicious act. "thank you for your discretion." he said slowly, sitting on the steps as well and slowly inching towards them. when oslo arrived by their side, having refused to watch the reapings, felt obligated to ask, "who are you then?" thimble's offer was accepted silently as oslo tilted his head up to gaze at the tiny specks, "are you this levelled, always?" it was curious to him. he often felt too much of one thing, and not enough of another. balance, unfortunately, didn't exist in many parts of his life. while staring upwards still, he felt compelled to ask them, "were you enjoying it? before the puking at least?"

As the hours ticked by, Willie started to break out of her shell. Well, not fully, but enough to start talking more. Enjoying herself. She knew that this would either be her life from now on or that it would stop in that arena. She had to enjoy it, at least in small increments. She had a drink and some food. She didn't overindulge, but she ate enough to feel like she was walking on a comfortable cloud.

"then i apologize still-- and for the worse." oslo said solemnly, dragging the weight of his body down the railing and then to eventually sitting on the steps. he extended an arm to the girl, "you're welcome to sit if you'd like." with how the train ride over had gone with his tributes, he wasn't expecting her to take him up on the offer. but he'd welcome any company right now, especially company that didn't know him, and wouldn't ask about the games. "you're not hogs..." oslo groaned, hanging his head. far more expressive than he might've been sober. "i find you all very brave, you're taking part in a sacred ritual of our great nation." from him, it was a compliment. he found tributes to have much sturdier resolve than he. oz only wished that it weren't under such polarizing circumstances. he scooted closer to the girl, "what's your name?" oslo asked curiously, then levelled with her, "how are you liking it? here in the capitol?"

⋆

they had given him hell on the train. never in oslo's years of being an escort had he had such disrespectful tributes. part of him wondered if this was karmic, or it was just as simple as his patience wearing thin. oz supposed it truly didn't matter once he was found by iza. he'd be in for an earful, that was for sure. and oslo wasn't sure he was sober enough to wrangle his tribute chivalrously. "iza..." he said strained, quite literally have to bite down on his tongue as he considered his next words. "i'm glad to see you're enjoying yourself." oslo said tersely, looking him up and down. oh iza. oz mentally sighed. what was he going to do with them? "there's a gate lined with peacekeepers, you'd never get past it, and you'd be shot before you could even see them." oslo said, blunt and solemn. "i hate such barbarism." he spilled, thanks to the copious amounts of liquor in his system. as the horizon began to blur and shake, he sat on the steps, looking up at iza. "come sit." oslo offered him, patting the step beside him. "tell me, have you forged any alliances? you do know that's what this event is for, correct? not futile escape routes that will get you killed?"

"excess and indulgence." oslo hummed, bouncing back rather quickly. better out than in he thought. asena and him weren't particularly close, but they'd crossed paths a handful of times. he appreciated how she always filled a room without revealing too much. always. it was artful. and in oslo's opinion, a sign of a true intellectual. which trust him-- he'd been around plenty. the amount of academic circles he felt obligated to run with was exhausting. but not this. asena was a naturally occurring talent and no amount of drink would prevent oslo from prying at it. attempting to get close to it if he was really bold.

Nero spotted him almost immediately. He was hard to miss, honestly, in the sea of feathers and rhinestones-- the unmistakable Copperhead brow, a head above the rest. If anyone was confused about who occupied slots in the Presidential family, of course, they could reference one of the many portraits hung throughout the mansion.

oslo wiped his mouth and turned around to curiously cock his head at the voice. his hand travelled down to his chin which he stroked thoughtfully once. "i suppose i'd never noticed." he responded, still quite puzzled. "you don't think they resemble me?" oslo wasn't sure why that sentiment upset him so much, the thought of so many seeing him through a misrepresented lens-- portrait or otherwise. he sighed and dramatically slumped back into the railing and begin to untie his tie and unbutton the top couple buttons of his shirt, "it's fucking hot." he slurred, stomach churning like he may empty his stomach again.

In a rare, unpolished state, Desdemona sat cross-legged on her floor, new leather-bound notebook open on the refreshment table in front of her. She'd been sketching concepts and ideas for a month, and now that she could put a face to her two tributes, Des was not eager to put it away. They were striking individually, Aphrodite and Loch, but as a pair? Gods, she'd gotten lucky.

"yes, entirely demented." oslo huffed bitterly at her, "forgive me, i've just had...a time with my tributes. they both completely resentment and i've hardly talked to them this year." by all things oslo had been taught, tributes from district one tended to be easier, more excited to compete. while that had been true some of the time, it definitely wasn't this year. well-- with satin perhaps, but he hadn't taken too kindly to oslo either. oz couldn't help but wonder if maybe they were entirely justified. and the wondering alone left him with a weight of guilt.

light and sound was overwhelming, and though peter had wandered about and shaken hands, picked up and nibbled at anything he saw that looked unfamiliar in the least uncomfortable way, and had a few sips of drinks that were both far too sweet and more bitter than he could ever imagine, he was nearly ready to call it a night and wondered when the hell they would be let out of this pony show and sent off to bed to sleep for the evening.

oslo was soft in nature. uncle cal had sniffed that out in him like some prized hunting hound since birth. he masked it through liquor, jewelry, nice clothes, taking way too long on his hair-- partying like a shameful ghost of his parents. he despised how the eyes of the portraits and the public followed him as he stepped through the mansion. even out here on the steps, in the breeze, he felt far more bare than he'd care to be. he only felt worse at the sight of a tribute-- he had to be a tribute, and by the looks of his capitol couture, he was from the tenth district.