#eventidepast

The woman at the front desk had long since stopped asking Natalia why she was there, long since stopped questioning if Mr. Germaine was expecting her. Natalia didn't know why the woman had stopped, maybe accustomed enough to Natalia showing up or maybe Tiberius had told her himself that Natalia was always welcome. Whatever the reason, Natalia was thankful as she sulked into the building with a bloodied lip and what would probably become a lovely bruise if the ache of her throat was any indication.

The penthouse apartment was silent and dark when she let herself in, but that hadn't kept her from making herself at home. Pouring a glass of wine. Showering. Donning a pair of his sweats she'd pulled from his dresser and a t-shirt that she'd found tossed on his bed. Curling up on his couch. Waiting in the still darkness as she sipped from the glass of wine she'd poured herself. Her body hurt and she couldn't let Mags or Beck or Murphy see her like this. At least not until she'd slept it off. God she just wished she could get out, get Snow and all his goons to leave her fuck alone.

She must have dozed off, glass of wine in one hand, the other holding the shirt she wore to her nose, finding comfort in just his scent alone even when he wasn't physically there. God, she's falling in love. Really, she already has. She won't admit that. Doesn't need the gossip journalists anymore in her business. She startles at the sound of the elevator's ding as it announces someone having arrived. Tiberius, she knows, he never hosts other company.

Cecelia was only twenty-three but sometimes she felt like she was decades older. The things she had seen, the things she had to do on behalf of the Capitol had aged her far past her twenty-three years.

She had grown numb to the opulence that surrounded her at Capitol parties while the people in Eight starved and were forced into tiny apartments. Her family's apartment growing up was smaller than the bathroom on the first floor of Lycenius Phipps mansion. One of his artifacts from the before times could probably feed the entirety of District Eight for a year.

There were some people in the Capitol who would dream of being at one of Lycenius Phipps's legendary parties on his invitation. But they didn't know that the invitation came with certain strings that she would be reckless to say no to. All she wanted was to be home in her bed with Sterling, curled up in his protective arms. Her home with her husband was one of the few places she felt truly safe in. Cecelia still got butterflies in her stomach every time she thought of him. They had recently started to talk about having a family and kids, and it was exciting and scary and she just wanted to be home.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a familiar face. Finnick. It was a relief to see someone that she actually could stand to spend time around in the Capitol. But she also knew why he was there and it made her sick.

Grabbing two glasses of champagne she walked over to her friend. "Fancy seeing you here, darling." The mocking smile on her lips was entirely for her and her Capitol persona, she knew he would understand. "The champagne is to die for."

Finnick was no stranger to the glamor and the drama of the capitol. The crowds buzzing with cruel excitement, spilling outlandish gossip and drunken comments were exhausting, but after being in the game for over a decade now, he had grown used to it. Thick skin was a requirement for the job, and while it had certainly taken a lot of growth, he finally learned how to manage it all. Mostly.

He took in the party happening around him. The Presidential Mansion was a notable venue, and even he had to admit that Snow really knew how to throw a party. Of course the Capitol spared no expense when the Games were involved, and but the Quarter Quell — at least in Snow's opinion, it seemed — deserved to be commemorated with something bigger and better.

Despite the fine food, elegant decor, and nearly enchanting music though, if Finnick's attendance not been required, he would have skipped out entirely. According to Snow, however, declining the invitation was simply not an option, and so there he stood alone, having managed to break away from conversations with potential sponsors and clients for just a moment of peace.

He knew it wouldn't last forever. He would be expected to finish making his rounds and playing it up for the cameras. The charisma, the charm...it was getting to be exhausting, but what other choice was there? He was well aware that Snow would make good on all promises, so he's have to grit his teeth and bear it through the rest of the evening.

Finnick's green eyes scanned the crowd, only to stop on one of the newest victors. Peeta Mellark. The two had only met in passing at the wedding, having the opportunity to exchange only a few words. Would now be a good time for a more formal introduction?

He momentarily considered his options, and he realized that in a choice between a fellow victor and literally any Capitol sponsor, the victor would win every time. He decided to make his way across the floor, cutting through the crowd and hoping no one would stop him on his way.

"Peeta Mellark," he said in greeting once he had gotten close enough to be heard over the awful din of the crowd. "Fancy seeing you here. How are you finding the party?"

Ten days. Ten days Xio had spent in the hospital after being dragged burned and reeking of smoke from the arena. She probably would've been released sooner if she hadn't fought the doctors assigned her case over the treatment of the burn that licked up her leg. But cooperation had never been her strong suit and they'd eventually relented after much argument and fighting. But finally, finally, she'd been released and chauffeured back to the Tribute Tower to await for a train back home.

She'd not been particularly surprised to find the floor seemingly empty, she knew she hadn't been the favored to win when it came to her district. The door to what had been her room before entering the arena was closed when she heard the sound of the elevator coming to a stop on the floor. She opened the door then, moved out of the room just enough to lean against the door frame and watched her newfound company for a moment. "Surprise, I'm still alive." Xio smarted upon seeing her least favorite of the victors that'd come to the Capitol for the games.

the games last year had been exciting — domitila is hardly an unbiased opinion, as it had been her first time taking part in the backstage of it all — but this year's is a bit of a let down. she doesn't say it, but she doesn't have to — most years, the parties are highly focused on the screens, but the layers of snow have made the spectacle slow-going and people indulge in the entertainment outside of the arena instead. all over, while a couple from each remaining district in game rot around the mentor's lounge, other victors and capitolites mingle around the city, in several viewing parties. domitila attends one of the most prestigious ones, of course, as does the victors most popular. from afar, she can catch a glimpse of the ever popular finnick odair, but she's also seen a few faces from one and several of her own victors, from district two. as it's only been a year, she's still trying to familiarize herself with them, so she tries not to hound them too often.

there is a few exceptions; two are in the mentor's lounge, but the other, she can see across the room, glittering in a piece domitila herself has gifted her some hours ago. with little hesitation, the stylist makes her way there, a smile bright up in her lips as she sneaks in the conversation. cadence is engaging with a couple domitila is more or less familiar with, and she can see the girl endures them as well as anyone else: with a large glass of bubbling drink. she's all too different from the small girl that had so few odds just last year, who had come out of the arena bloody and filthy; now, with her looks all taken care of, she looks much older, almost like she belongs. "cadence, darling," the eldest swoops down with familiarity, planting a kiss to each of the girl's cheeks. she can smell the drink, but, well, it's not as if she hasn't been drinking as well. "i've been looking for you all evening! i have something to show you. would you excuse you, mr and mrs deeppelt?" the couple is hesitant, but they also have little room for an argument when domitila is wrapping an arm around cadie's waist and leading her away. "tell me i've whisked you away from boredom! those two are hardly the type of people a young thing like you should be around."

who: thea ellis & ezra klair ( @perfectaches )

ezra is normally a deep sleeper. when he's out, he's out. he sleeps soundly for eight hours. some conditions are optimal. he prefers to sleep in the same bed as thea ellis. for someone who so desperately tries for control, she's a little spoon. sometimes it surprises him how vulnerable she can around ezra. it's a gift truly, one that he hopes to continue receiving. because in truth, thea does not owe that to him. even if he likes seeing those walls torn down.

sometimes she's in the capitol for weeks or months at a time. their bed feels too empty then. that's far too much space for one person. these capitol beds are like that. he'd seen kings before, but this was something bigger. and thea was so close for the past week, but embracing in any way was dangerous. he won't even see his better half in the morning. sleep does not readily grace him the night before the games. instead, ezra klair tosses and turns. should he make his way to her room ?

Where: District 2 apartment, Tribute Centre

Who: Brutus and Cadence ( @subsiist )

It had all happened so fast. First Brutus and herself had just been watching the games. They'd done this a couple of times over the course of these games. She'd actually ended up watching more of it with Brutus than Thea this year. That was not a surprise though. She'd have been more shocked if Thea had been out of the mentor Lounge. She'd watched games with Brutus before though, so it felt quite normal. What wasn't normal was the screen suddenly going blank.

"What.... that's weird...." She murmured, standing to her feet as she looks at the blacked out screen in front of her. and before she was really able to process any further Thea had appeared. Before she could talk though Thea was, and Cadie was just staring at her. "Uh....." was all she said, her mind still trying to process the arena screening going black, yet alone what her mother was saying to her.

It's only when Thea is talking to Brutus that it clicks in her mind. This black out, the screen going dead wasn't a glitch. Something was happening. Thea didn't know what, but Cadence did. It was the rebellion. And well, that meant she, they, needed to get out of there. To get to safety. "Promise me you'll meet us there?" She asked, her eyes big as she looked up at her mother. "Mo....Thea.... promise me."

And then she and Brutus were out the door. They needed to act quick. Before peacekeepers were on them. Cadence looked up at her former trainer. "I..... You have to trust me Brut. I know where we need to go. I'll explain when we get there..... but we need to hurry."

Who: Portia and Peeta ( @subsiist )

When she had signed up to be the stylist for District 12 actually ending up liking the tributes hadn't been on the cards. Portia had known District 12 wasn't important. She had seen them simply as a stepping stone to get her name out there. That maybe she'd have to spend a couple of years styling them, and then she could find herself a better district. But then she'd met Peeta Mellark, and found that he was actually quite likable. Then the whole star crossed lovers thing had happened. And well, Portia found herself quite liking being known for styling Peeta.

And in the months since the games, since Peeta and Katniss had left the Capitol, Portia had gotten to known Peeta better. She saw him now as more than just a stepping stone. He was her friend now. The victory tour was frantic, them moving from district to district. Portia had never been out of the Capitol, and she certainly hadn't expected to be on a victory tour so soon. Before she'd known it they were back in the Capitol. Things felt less stressful here. she was on her own turf.

She'd been at one of the tables, sketching some designs when she saw Peeta walk past her. They'd hadn't had a chance to actually catch up lately, and she decided this might be a good opportunity too. So she abandoned her pencils, and headed towards him. "Peeta...." The stylist called out, as she knocked on the door. "It's Portia..."