#mtotask

"Hey! Nettle!" He waved her in from inside the bar, recognizing the tribute from the Tribute Parade, and respecting the hell out of the strategy of making out on national television. "I wanted to give you some champagne in like a... a congrats for you and your girl, I guess. And also a 'hell yeah' for the parade." Maybe a congrats was a little in poor taste, but who would turn down nice champagne?

Alder stared at the little wooden figurine, perplexed. It wasn't so weird, not really, that there were random vendor Capitolites selling Games merchandise in the lobby to those participating in the festivities, but it was still bizarre. Someone joined him, and he looked up, looking disturbed and concerned. When he realized it was Cat, he voiced his thoughts. "This is me," he said, holding up the figure, allegedly carved from wood that came from his home village. Everything about it felt strange and exploitative, he wanted to hurl the statuette into a fire, but unfortunately there were none he had easy access to right now. "This is-- this is supposed to fucking be me, who the hell would want this?"

She didn't know how long she slept, but when she woke suddenly to the sound of footsteps on the metal ride, the air felt warm, and the despite the shade of the roof, she could tell the sun was overhead and bright.

Wattson watched the screen intensely as the games started. He kept a close eye on both of his tributes when he saw both of them were in a fight almost immediately. "Come on, come on, come on..." Wattson mumbled as he chewed on his thumb nail. Then it happened, almost simultaneously.

Holland absolutely loathed this event. A launch party thrown by some Capitolite hanger-on, someone who wanted to capitalize on all of this. A few nods toward the pirate theme were thrown in here and there like after thoughts, though likely the planner hadn't been tipped off about the Arena until the last minute. Holland held a plastic eye patch in her hand and sipped her mocktail -- she had to go back to work after this; in fact, being here was part of work, as it had been heavily suggested that she attend in order to hear reactions to the Arena. What were people liking, what did they not like? What did they want more of? Holland wasn't listening at all, of course, just standing by a table alone as the countdown sounded and several screens around the room played different footage, various cameras trained on tributes, all of whom were working at the cages, trying to find the key or the lock.

"Hope they can all swim," Everett said as the Bloodbath played out on the screen. He was in the lobby, though he'd intended to get a coffee and return to the second floor before the launch. However, he'd been waylaid by a sponsor who wanted to discuss Ezra and Mars's strengths and weaknesses, and now he was left watching as the tributes mauled each other, swam away, or drowned in their cages -- all in public, where he had to act stoic about it, like it didn't affect him. He was the Quell Victor, he was from Two -- he was supposed to keep it all together.