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“You’d be surprised the weird shit that the public wants the victor’s opinion on.” Although, probably not. Jupiter hadn’t known Gemma to be surprised by many things, least of all which capitol trends that people wanted victors to support. “But I’m sure if you go on Village Watch and tell Flickerman how much you love those glasses, the Capitol will send you an entire crate of them or something. They’re generous like that,” He muttered the last part, rolling his eyes.

“Well if I have your approval, I’ll snatch her away as soon as I can and never look back.” While the new escort hadn’t really done much an any direction for Gemma to form a strong opinion, the last one was incompetent enough to leave a bad taste in her mouth. “Because a victor’s opinion on glassware would certainly be valuable to the public,but if I can get a new set of wine glasses out of it, I’d be thrilled. They break so easily.”

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hey hey hey! i’m gonna be out for most of the day @ the cma festival w/ my parents but i’ll def be back later on to finish up some replies <3 

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“Well, uh, thanks, then,” Jupiter’s face cracked into a small smile. He almost laughed at the girl’s second statement, but he didn’t want to seem too rude. “Or die? That’s a bit extreme, don’t you think? No one’s gonna try to kill you before the games start. But still, you shouldn’t just go running off from your stylists. They’re only trying to help.”

She nodded as she smiled “Well I like your name.” She let her eyes fall to the ground “I didn’t want to do what my stylists wanted but now I know I should go back if I don’t want to be in trouble or die.”

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Jupiter ran a frustrated through his hair, working to string together a sentence. “I— sorry, Andy. I guess it’s just been a long day—” he noticed the swelling in his friend’s jaw and flushed a faint pink “—for everyone.” He knew it wasn’t really fair that he’d decided to take his anger out on Andy earlier that morning, but his friend’s decision to volunteer in Bax’s place had caught him off guard, and if there was one thing Jupiter hated, it was surprises.  “I think I’ve been spending too much time talking to Vit,” Jupiter admitted with a grimace. The schmoozing and networking done by mentors and escorts, Jupiter had learned in his past 19 years in the Hunger Games, was just as important as a tribute’s performance inside the arena. Already, he had lined up meetings with his friends in the Capitol, hoping to score Andy some sponsors before the games even started.

He nodded as Jupiter spoke, trying not to work himself up – It was only their first night in the Capitol, there was no reason to have a meltdown just yet. He knew he was in good hands, but the instinct to worry still remained. “I know,” he replied softly, knowing Jupiter meant well, despite the clearly frustrated tone. Andy ran a hand over his face as his friend spoke, the mental image what Jupiter had suggested being enough to make him both cringe, and chuckle lightly. “Sounds like you’ve got this all mapped out. — You trying to put our crew out of their jobs?”

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“That sounds terrible. Who would wanna walk around wearing some stranger’s face on their body?” Though, he supposed there were worse ways to represent one’s favorite victor. He’d heard stories of capitolites going so far as to get cosmetic surgery to look more like their favorites ( though he couldn’t verify the validity of this rumor, as he had never actually seen it in person ). Jupiter let out a weak chuckle at Ciaran’s morbid joke. “I guess so. I might buy a bunch of action figures for everybody and surprise them with it on their birthday. That’ll be fun.”

“They do. There’s, like, three gift shops in the hobby. One of them is dedicated entirely to Career victors.” He’d seen Baxter’s face repeated four dozen times through the glass of the shop. Despite loving him, the only thing more unsettling than that was in the museum. “I guess everyone should stock up on their faves, huh?” Ciaran made a face, repulsed by his own morbid joke.

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Jupiter’s breath hitched — if Cain could already feel his sanity slipping then it didn’t bode well for his mental state inside the games. There was some part of Jupiter that felt sympathetic to the younger man’s plight ( he could understand, after all, losing a part of ones’ sanity in that arena ) but another part that knew he had to evaluate the threat in front of him. Cain could easily be the biggest threat in the arena, Jupiter mused. Where all of the other victors might have reservations about killing their friends — or anyone in general — Jupiter had watched Cain take down other tributes without even a glimmer of remorse in his eyes. The idea of him doing that to Andy, or Kestrel, or any of Jupiter’s friends sent a chill up his spine. But there was nothing that the other District Two victors could do to help Cain anyway. “I won’t,” Jupiter sighed, still eyeing the other man warily. “But, uh— is there any way to...stop losing it? Y’know, like deep breathing or yoga or something?”

he laughed nervously and pulled a face. “um, okay, well the thing is” he began his sentence. “i’m kind of regretting my decision to volunteer now because i’m losing it again.” he paused and looked at jupiter with a serious face. “but don’t tell the proctors that. or ace.” if anyone from his district found out that he was regretting his decision, they’d be on him in an instant. he would most definitely be the biggest target to the victors. 

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“Like both, I guess,” Jupiter shrugged. He’d never really given much thought to his name. “Why’d you run away?”

She giggled “Like the god or like the planet?” She followed his eyes as the scanned the room “I ran away from my team and I don’t know where Naomi or Everett are.”

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“Vit? You can keep her,” Jupiter laughed. As good as the woman was at her job — truly one of the best escorts in the business, he had to admit — they hardly ever saw eye-to-eye, and their conversations ended in vicious arguments more often than not. And what was an escort if not a glorified babysitter? “I’m sure whatever brand it is would love to have a victor’s endorsement.” They were the closest thing that Panem had to true celebrities, after all.

“Maybe Salivator or whatever his name is knows where I could get a set. I’m sure that Vitae does, but I’m hoping that this new guy isn’t so useless that I have to start poaching your talent. I’m not saying that I’m above just taking them, but if they have other wares I’m very interested. It’s better to have a brand you can trust, you know.”

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ayyyyy guys i’m tutoring kids today until 2pm (cst) so i won’t get on until after then probably, but i’m slowly working my way through my replies & all of the IMs i haven’t responded to yet bc i’m trash :/// but anyway if you’re new or we haven’t plotted yet hmuuuu <3 i’ll hopefully have gotten thru all of my replies & messages around 4 cst but if i haven’t then feel free to yell at me tbh 

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Despite growing up in a district that shared the Capitol’s love of the Hunger Games, Jupiter would never understand the hero-worship that came along with being a victor. He’d seen Capitol children playing in the streets, reenacting famous kills from past games. He’d seen figurines of himself and other victors lined up on a shelf like collector’s items. Hell, he’d even heard a kid tell a victor, ‘When I grow up, I want to be just like you’. ( How fortunate, he had thought, how privileged one must be to look at the victors — their broken spirits, their hollow expressions, their trembling hands — and see something worth envying. ) “I wouldn’t be surprised if they had some kind of merchandise for all of us. Who knows? I hear the value of collectibles skyrockets once a person dies.”

“I fucking hate the face merchandise,” Ciaran wrinkled his nose in disdain. “I forgot they had a gift shop. That’s probably from one of my performances though. I don’t think they’ve got the shelf space for the Victors who aren’t in the game.” Ciaran’s Victor talent made him popular amongst the Capitolites, but he had so little say in his own career, he had no earthly idea what it was they were selling in his name. The merchandise for these Games, however, was new. He swore he’d seen some kid running around with a sword labeled “Hunger Games 46 replica sword.” A replica of what sword, he wondered. 

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who is going to ride or die for me this hard

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He knew it would only be a matter of time before he ran into Kestrel ( or the other way around, as it turned out ), but he hadn’t been looking forward to the encounter. There was nothing he could say to ease the panic he knew she must have felt since that morning. ‘I’m sorry you got reaped’...a small truth, of course, but a meaningless one. What would his empty apologies do for her? He couldn’t turn back the clock to have someone else’s name called ( though he would in a heartbeat if he could ). 'I need you to make it out of there alive’...but at what cost? Andy’s life? No, Jupiter refused to let the thought even cross his mind. He offered Kestrel a small, tired smile that faded from his lips as soon as it had appeared. “And here I thought this was all to make the tributes feel a little more like human beings instead of—” animals for slaughter. He broke off when he realized the insensitivity of his words, his cheeks flushing pink. “—shit, sorry.”

It hadn’t occurred to her then. She’d been too trusting of the Capitol, lured into a false sense of security by their empty words and flawed propaganda. Looking back on it now, she’d been arrogant, all too certain they’d secured their place with the final boom of a cannon. It was a mistake. To put so much faith in a twisted, convoluted world where children were pit against one another for sport— Kestrel should have known better. Berating herself in the days leading up to the reaping had done nothing to alleviate her fears, nor did it silence the sound of her heart pounding in her ears. But she’d smiled anyway, raised her arm to the heavens as though she’d already won. Four had cheered. Kestrel was too busy dry heaving to remember much of the train ride after. Hours later, it was a stroke of misfortune to run into Jupiter so soon. In her rush to escape the onslaught of her “entourage”, she’d brushed the possibility aside. Another mistake. “Can’t have the Capitol’s citizens getting bored now, can we?” She countered, voice dripping with obvious sarcasm.

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Brows furrowed in confusion for just a moment before Jupiter realized what the other victor was talking about. “The wha— oh. Right.” He didn’t understand how Gemma could be so callous as to focus on the glassware in this moment, but he envied it. What he wouldn’t give for that to be his biggest concern. “Maybe if you ask really nicely, they’ll let you take a few of the glasses home.” There was a touch of cynicism to his voice.

“They pulled out all of the stops for sure. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a double wall crystal flute rendered this thin before, and Gaius and I do splurge on these kinds of things. It might be a little absurd for District 1 to have developed new glassware technology for the same of the Quell, but honestly, I wouldn’t put it beyond the Capitol.”

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The thought had never occurred to Jupiter to see how Bax was feeling about the situation. Not when Andy had volunteered for Bax, not during the train ride to the Capitol ( where Jupiter was too preoccupied yelling at Andy to notice the younger victor’s absence ), nor in the hours since arriving at the Tribute Center. So caught up in his own problems was he that he hadn’t given much thought to it at all until Baxter stood in front of him, refusing to meet his gaze. Jupiter sighed. The kid must have been feeling even worse than he did — Andy had volunteered to die in Bax’s place after all. “Tell me about it,” Jupiter tried to keep his tone light. “I thought that sparkly suit they put me in today was gonna blind me once the sunlight hit it.”

After the entire tribute situation had settled, Baxter had been avoiding both Andy and Jupiter, keeping to his own compartment on the train and ducking away as soon as he could once they arrived at the tribute center. Unfortunately, they were all staying in the same suite, so it wasn’t exactly as though he could avoid them for very long, and so he found Jupiter eventually—though he still burned with shame, still couldn’t quite meet his former mentor’s eye. Andy was Jupiter’s best friend; Bax was certain that Jupiter wished it was Bax going into the arena instead as much as he did. “Guess that’s what they were going for,” he said, scrunching his nose at how small he sounded. “I’m sure the stylists are all taking it to a new level this year.”

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“I can't even imagine what they’ll do for the 100th anniversary,” Jupiter mused dryly. And he didn’t want to know. He could only hope that he wasn’t around to see that year’s tributes suffer through whatever the Capitol had in store for them then. Maybe they won’t even bother with the theatrics, they’ll just have peacekeepers publicly execute two kids from each district, he thought, but he didn’t dare say that aloud. The last thing he needed was to give the Capitol a reason to make sure none of his friends left the arena alive. 

“Would you expect anything less from them? Especially for a year as big as 50.” Rowan’s voice held undertones of sarcasm and bitterness, despite her best efforts to keep them hidden. Quell’s were always big. There was always a twist. Still, Rowan couldn’t understand how this one had managed to make the final cut. Victor versus victor, maybe. As much as she hated it, it sounded like something the people of the Capitol would eat up. But victor versus child? It was unusually cruel, even for them. But it wasn’t the first time Capitol Logic had been lost on her and she was certain it wouldn’t be the last.