#vb129

Holland was a bit tipsy, pleasantly so. The relief that this wasn’t her own Victor’s Ball made the evening much more enjoyable, but it was growing late, and the people who remained were getting rowdy, drunk now and howling about their favorite moments from the Games of the past decade. Holland wasn’t interested in sticking around to hear what these Capitolites thought of life-or-death moments, so she took Carol’s hand, pulling him out of the mansion, through big double doors and a cobblestone driveway, into the city and down the street towards the Tower.

Everett had thought he might get to find out before everyone else that the new plan was to Reap District Thirteen, but apparently not. It wasn’t all that surprising, he supposed, that Thirteen was being annexed, and that part of that was sending tributes into the Games, but he still didn’t like it. It felt cruel for some reason, more so than sending kids who’d grown up in Panem all their lives. “What do you think the first tributes from Thirteen will be like?” he mused, already a few drinks in.

“Gatlin seems nice?” He was tentative, as always, about a new Victor joining the fold, sizing up how he’d have to handle them as either friend or competition to his tributes. Often both. “I don’t know. What do you think?”

Well here she was again, at a ball and unlike the last one she'd been too there wasn't anything cool to see or do. No haunted ghosts here. So, she'd loaded a plate full of snacks, grabbed herself some colorful, kid-approved (she wasn't a kid, thank you very much) drink, and disappeared under one of many tables, thankful that the tablecloth was long enough to hide her. A handful of minutes later, she peaked her head out again just to ensure she was still alone. She wasn't though and she hurried to duck back under the table with a quickly muttered "shit." She was perfectly happy where she was, hoping she hadn't been seen.

“So, I didn’t have – well she said she’d think about it but I haven’t checked in, but if we can’t get Holland on board we can go with that plan b,” Moxie asserted giving a gentle smile, “So, you write the play, and we maybe do a reading of it like with a group of people we trust and then...talk to Viola for any actors she might know of and go from there?” It was a hopeful idea; that a morality play wouldn’t get them caught – put them in jail or even worse. She supposed she was meant to be thinking outside of herself, wanting to protect her family but...fighting back against the Games meant protecting her family.

Georgia took a sip of what was supposed to be a virgin cocktail, but the bitterness caught her a bit off-guard. She still wasn’t quite used to Capitol drinks, so she shoved it towards the person closest to her at the bar. “Is this alcoholic or not? I honestly can’t tell.”