Daffodil Park

[sitting-on-the-bottom]

Turning to look at the woman who had joined her, Pyxis smiled before turning back to her clipboard to quickly make a notation before looking back up. Flicking one of the long braids back over her shoulder, she also took the moment to look around the gym.

"Ah, just the standard for now." Daffodil was right in the fact that usually, as time went on, sometimes specific things would be made available if there was a possibility of the necessity of special training. However, normally the gym was so expansively stocked around the Games training that it was hard to know what would feature that year and what would not.

Walking closer, she turned on a socked heel to glance around. "No tributes yet either, my guess is they'll start being brought in for training soon though." Glancing over at the woman from Six, she gave a curious look. "What about yours. Any potential there? Need me to kick their asses into shape so they aren't toast in ten minutes?" Six was not a career district, and the tributes usually reflected the lack of training provided.

[ofnarcissus]

Daffodil released a sigh in response to the woman's words, the breath escaping her lips with a touch of theatricality. She leaned gently against the rack of weapons, her fingers gracefully tracing the hilt of the blades. Amidst this, a ponderous thought emerged – were any of the tributes as eager for the impending games as she was? Typically, she could anticipate encountering at least the career tributes in the training arena by now.

"That's truly disheartening," she mused, her gaze lifting towards the other woman. "I was genuinely hoping to catch a glimpse of the competition. I suppose patience will be my ally. Surprisingly, I haven't even met my tributes yet! I was not present during their reaping, the actual introduction will likely unfold in a few days. Far too much time, in my opinion."

[ofnarcissus]

Starter for @mack-montresor

Anticipation surged beneath her exterior, a current of excitement rippling through her as she lingered near the entrance of the tower. Her fingers lightly drummed against her thighs, and a subtle tremor coursed through her body at the mere thought of meeting her assigned tributes. A hopeful spark kindled within her — perhaps this iteration of the Games would be different from the previous, and it could be her tributes triumphing, leading to her embarking on a victorious tour across the districts.

Upon the arrival of her tributes, her smile expanded, revealing a flash of teeth, and she eagerly traversed the room towards them. "Welcome! I trust your journey wasn't too arduous; I know the distance isn't too far," she began, extending her hand and placing it gently on the female tribute's shoulder. "How are you finding the Capitol? It's quite marvelous, isn't it?"

[sitting-on-the-bottom]

Location: Tower Gym With: anyone!

Already, someone was dead and the games hadn't even began. If she was being honest, Pyxis could not remember the name of the head gamemaker even if it would save her life. It was one of those things that just kept going in one ear and out the other. But watching someone get executed on live television? Had her thinking about what she watched happen to District 12 all over again.

At least now, she could turn back to her job. Tribute training was not due to start yet, but that had not stopped Pyxis from returning back to the gym, a place she was comfortable with. With her clipboard in hand, she had gone through what the inventory looked like - something she did every year, always misplacing her list and forgetting. This was also where both mentors and tributes alike would be wont to find her, whether they were looking or not.

As if on cue, Pyxis could hear the doors to the gym slide open. Without looking over her shoulder she called, "whoever you're looking for, if it isn't me, isn't here!" The place was empty sans the redhead with her hair tied into twin french braids going down either side of her head.

[ofnarcissus]

The respite between games had been a welcomed interlude for Daffodil. Without the weight of additional responsibilities, sleep became a blissful escape in the company of her beloved plants. She had invested precious time with her floral companions and friends, feeling rejuvenated and poised for the next games.

The anticipation of the upcoming event thrilled her—waiting eagerly for the arena reveal, watching her tributes' progress, and even placing bets on others if her own met an unfortunate fate. The games, with their epic drama, always touched her deeply, and she couldn't contain her excitement for the unfolding spectacle.

With a radiant smile, Daffodil navigated through the tower, her eyes mirroring the bubbling enthusiasm within. Her destination was the gym, curious to explore the items presented for these games and to check if her tributes had decided to make an early appearance.

Upon arrival, only one other person occupied the space, their voice resonating through the expansive room as Daffodil approached. "Oh, no issue. I was just excited to see what they have put out so far," she replied with genuine enthusiasm.

[ennalydonsbee]

"That's the goal!" Enna joked, although it deeply wasn't the goal. Daffodil knew she just wanted to look nice, it wasn't about putting anyone else down. there was no need to clarify, they were both just joking around here. "is it working? I feel like it's working."

"Slate's been busy, dude. It feels nice to be on the last stop." Higher spirits than ever was true, and that was all Enna could attribute it to. He'd been strange since his victory, but she knew that that was his business, not something to gossip over. "Besides, it's his birthday party after this. are you going?"

[ofnarcissus]

"Oh, it's working wonders, beyond measure," she started with a melodic laugh, her free hand gracefully gesturing toward the bustling crowd. "I can practically sense their envy from here."

"I'm certain the tours are brimming with events, though, while most are delightful, some can be a bit… draining," she mused, reflecting on her own experiences during her tour, solo amidst a sea of unfamiliar faces. "A birthday party, you say? It appears I've missed my invitation… but no matter, I have my plants to attend to."

[slate-skylar]

Slate laughed, and was surprised by the strength of it -- the genuine humor, the fact that it was funny, to picture everyone here with a puppy. "You know what, good point," he said, "probably puppies for all isn't a great move. Just last year I was standing innocently in the lobby of the Tower and wound up the brief guardian of a poodle."

[ofnarcissus]

"Ha!" she began, her fingers tightening around her glass, "I fear I may know exactly who left you with that dog... though I think they have hired a full-time caretaker now since they realized their shortcomings." she offered as her eyes roamed to the crowd before them. "Would you like to dance?"

[luca--acero]

Luca finally made eye contact when she spoke and he sighed, feeling a bit bad about being so rude without even considering who he was talking to. He just wanted to go home, hide away in the comforts of his own space, but these balls were a requirement, so here he was, engaging in small talk under the twinkling lights.

"Of course, I thought you were somebody else" he shrugged off, nodded to the seat next to him in an attempt at redeeming himself. "How are you finding the night? Slate seems to be enjoying himself" he hummed, although he knew it probably wasn't the whole truth.

[ofnarcissus]

"No matter…" she began, casually dismissing his previous statement, having taken no offense. "I would have responded the same had I suspected someone was gearing up for a business discussion. It would be a shame to tarnish this evening with talk of work," she mused, a gentle smile gracing her features as she absorbed his next words.

"Ah, yes, and I'm absolutely delighted to witness him in such high spirits. I had my concerns, what with all the chatter about rebellion, fearing he might be too far gone. But it appears he's basking in the great light of the Capitol!" she declared, nodding with a subtle grace as she brought her glass to her lips, savoring the liquid within. "I spoke to him earlier, and his spirits were soaring, even higher than the tour!"

[leightonmorgan]

Leighton nodded, a bit worried about expressing any opinion on Slate considering his reputation. She didn't think she trusted that he truly was reformed, but it wasn't her business either way. "Yes, he is definitely getting smarter," she agreed, leaving it at that before moving on. "Well, the food and drink is always great around here. So many different things to try. What's your favorite been?"

[ofnarcissus]

"I am so glad; it would be disheartening to witness such a young light extinguished…" she began, lifting her glass in response to the woman's subsequent inquiry. "This drink…" The gold hues within the glass shimmered under the ambient light, the liquid within appearing to sway gently as she observed it. "It's a delightful fusion of honey and plums, with just a subtle hint of lavender. A truly exquisite concoction—you should give it a try!"

[leightonmorgan]

"Well, I'll admit the celebration vibes are feeling a bit subdued," Leighton said, turning away from the bar with a pink and fruity drink in her hand, "but that doesn't mean we can't still have fun!" She had been horrified by what had happened in District Twelve, but her aspirations to be a politician's wife had led her to know that discussing politics was a faux pas that one often could not recover from. The bombing had been political, and she didn't want to speak about it lest she say something wrong.

[ofnarcissus]

"I can't say I agree with you..." she stated, trailing off slightly, her smile wide as she tapped her ornate nails against the edges of her glass, "This event is delightful, and I am so glad to see Slate has changed his tune! I was worried for him, being so young and getting involved in things he does not understand. Now, he finally sees what life can be here - especially as a victor." She offered, her eyes roaming to her companion. "But enough of that..."

"Tell me, how are you enjoying the food and drink here? I think they are the best at any victor's ball yet, the President seems to have spared little expense."

[ennalydonsbee]

"is that-" Enna squinted, seeing the face coming towards her. When they got close enough, Enna jogged in for a hug, holding Daffodil close for a moment as she saw her again. "Hey, Daffodil."

They never got to see each other. not often enough. old friends since Enna's first year as an intern, they'd bonded over a love of houseplants and all plants. Enna hadn't even known there were that many plants in six. They texted frequently during off season, but it was rare that they were able to talk in person, so this was a treat. "I haven't seen you since six!" She was so glad to have been on the victory tour with Slate, to have seen every district and visited the places her friends all lived. but that still felt like ages, even if she'd been there last week. "anything changed since I left?"

[ofnarcissus]

Daffodil's enthusiasm was infectious, her fingers instinctively rising to stifle a delighted giggle that escaped her lips. Her eyes transformed into half-moons as she embraced her friend. "Goodness, it hasn't been that long, but it feels like an eternity!" she exclaimed, pulling back to appraise her friend. "You look absolutely stunning—this must be a new design engineered to make the rest of us appear like mere paupers, I presume?"

With a quick and gentle gesture, she guided her companion to the side of the entrance, creating a pathway for others to enter. "Not much has changed, although I must say Slate appears to be in higher spirits than ever, a significant shift if you ask me."

[slate-skylar]

"Yes, they seem to be good with potent drinks here," Slate agreed, having spent all of his previous balls sober and now finding that the drinks were indeed as strong as everyone had always said they were. "Well, my first decree as king is that everyone gets a puppy. I think the only thing wrong with this country is that not everyone has a puppy." His words were light, as hers had been -- sidestepping all of his many public criticisms of the country, criticisms he'd now had to just as publicly recant, pretend he'd never felt them to be true at all.

[ofnarcissus]

"I always look forward to these events, simply for the strong drinks," she confessed, her smile growing broader as she considered his suggestion. "While I do appreciate a good puppy, I question if everyone here possesses the ability to care for one," she playfully teased, casting a sly wink his way as she observed the crowd.

As the melody shifted, she gracefully redirected her attention back to him. "This song is one of my favorites, would you do me the honor of sharing a dance?"

[ofnarcissus]

@ennalydonsbee

The night remained young, yet the majority of Capitolites had already flooded into the expansive event space, their faces illuminated, hands adorned with either flesh or drink. Amidst them, she found contentment; the games were behind, and in this moment, she could let her thoughts roam freely. No longer would her conversations revolve around the tribulations of the games; instead, the focus shifted to the illustrious victor captivating the Capitol's citizens.

This interlude was among Daffodil's preferred moments, a brief hiatus from her duties where she could unwind with friends. As the realization dawned on her, she scanned the room, eager to engage in lively conversation with someone intriguing. While she had exchanged words with a few acquaintances, she yearned for a companion with whom she could truly have some fun.

Her eyes alighted upon the entrance of a close friend, excitement radiating from her countenance as she gracefully maneuvered through the crowd.

"Enna, my darling!" she exclaimed, arms outstretched in a welcoming gesture. "I am so glad to see you here!"

[slate-skylar]

The kisses on the cheek were a Capitol thing, he knew, one of those polite society moves that he'd witnessed plenty of times before but had never been the recipient of -- until tonight. Now it seemed like everyone was familiar, everyone wanted to kiss his cheek, to hug him, to pat him on the back, to take a photo with him. They all wanted to touch him and see if he'd break; see if he was really, truly changed, or if it was all an act.

He couldn't possibly say anymore.

So he kissed her cheek back, and smiled, and said, "A toast." He raised his glass, took a drink. "What are you drinking tonight, Daffodil?" He'd never been close with her, but he knew her. He'd floated around the Tower for long enough that he'd met just about everyone here.

[ofnarcissus]

The hand cradling her drink gracefully reached out, gently tapping against his own. Her smile remained intact, though in the depths of her dark eyes, she knew he could discern the sympathy she harbored for him. Regardless of the games played or the victors crowned, her heart went out to them. While the other tributes could find solace and escape the horrors they endured in death, the victors carried memories that clung unrelentingly. It seemed as though the world refused to mend their wounds, and the ghosts of their victims ensnared them, dragging them into the depths of the earth and suffocating them. Yet, she understood that in a place like this, there was little she could say to provide genuine comfort. Moreover, their acquaintance had been fleeting, leaving her uncertain about offering anything substantial.

"I'm not quite sure… Something potent, though," she remarked with a light laugh, lifting the glass to her lips and savoring the sensation as the thick-glittered liquid slid down her throat. Refreshing, given the circumstances. "And what's your plan now, now that you've ascended to the throne of Panem?" She playfully inquired, attempting to inject a bit of levity into their conversation.

[luca--acero]

Luca was hiding. His usual tactic at these balls, especially when he didn’t have the pleasure of following Hestia around to keep busy. He almost frowned in disappointment when someone entered the space he’d taken up in one of the corners, not because he didn’t like them, but just because he never knew exactly what to say— especially after a whole load of kids had just died so one could live— even if that one was Slate, who he’d wanted to win, it still felt awful to celebrate that kind of thing.

“I don’t really discuss sponsor funds until the new cycle begins” he said without even looking up from the beer he’d been holding for a while now to see who it was.

@ofnarcissus

[ofnarcissus]

The ball dazzled as always, the Capitol sparing no expense in creating a spectacle of opulence. Elaborate feasts, cocktails beyond imagination, and guests adorned in the epitome of luxury filled the grand venue. This year held special significance, marking Slate's triumph in the games—a notorious rebel now in the clutches of the Capitol's control.

The Capitol, eager to display its dominance, showcased its ability to mold Slate into a mere pawn. His attire, meticulously chosen, seamlessly blended with the Capitol's elite, erasing any remnants of his rebellious past. Daffodil, though conflicted, acknowledged the Capitol's success in reshaping Slate's image. Yet, uncertainty lingered about the impact this would have on the rebellion—would it quell dissent or ignite defiance?

Choosing to set aside these thoughts, Daffodil turned her attention to the drink table. Her hands, adorned with ornate flakes of gold, gracefully grasped a cocktail mirroring the hues of her dress. The glimmering liquid captivated her momentarily until a voice nearby interrupted her admiration.

“Oh, Luca!” she exclaimed, a spark of excitement in her voice. “You know I would never presume to discuss business at a party.”

[slate-skylar]

Slate had attended all of his previous balls sober and found most of them to be intolerable. This one -- the worst one yet, by his calculations -- he couldn't face in that same state. Of course, he hadn't had a day without morphling since the hospital, since they'd properly sawed off the rest of his ear, since Snow had personally threatened his daughter, since they'd bombed his district and killed his brother. Today was not about to be the day to begin a sobriety journey.

And anyway, his role tonight had been made very clear to him. A package had been left that morning at the door to the apartment they'd given him here in the Capitol. It had contained his crown: black, adorned in skulls, tall and sleek. A note had accompanied it: 'Wear it well. — N.S.'

Wearing it well, to Nerissa Snow, meant to play the part. He'd played it throughout the victory tour, smiling and giving the speeches exactly as they were written, faltering only a few times -- in Eleven, in Four, in Two, in One. He'd done what he needed to in order to keep his child safe.

So now, he was still playing the role, though there were no longer any speeches to read or lines to recite. It was freestyle now, and he was doing, he thought, an excellent fucking job.

"To think -- all of this is mine, and all I had to do was the simple task of winning the Hunger Games." He held up his drink.

[ofnarcissus]

An air of discontent seemed to envelop Slate, an understandable sentiment given the emotional aftermath of the games. Daffodil, no stranger to loss in her own Games, could empathize with the profound impact it left. Her lover's sacrifice and the inability to bid him farewell were wounds that time could never fully heal. Slate, too, bore the weight of lost friends, individuals who might have been like family, their futures slipping away within his grasp.

During the finale, she observed the pain etched on Slate's face as he confronted the inevitable demise of those dear to him. The juxtaposition of heartbreak against the backdrop of familiar carnage, though a regular sight for Daffodil, remained a poignant and challenging experience.

Yet, to those around them, Slate appeared unaffected. The Capitol elite reveled in the intoxicating words that flowed effortlessly from his lips, his eyes ablaze with a vitality unseen before. Though their interactions had been numerous during her time in the Capitol, Daffodil couldn't shake the feeling that Slate had undergone a transformation. Was it a figment of her imagination or a genuine shift? She could not know.

Gracefully navigating the dance floor, she delicately maneuvered through the crowd, a soft smile playing on her lips as she approached the victor. With a gentle and polite kiss on his cheek, she extended her congratulations.

“Congratulations, Slate. You must be overjoyed to be back,” she began, leaning towards the ear opposite the cheek she had kissed, ensuring privacy. “I am sorry for your losses.”

Pulling back, her eyes conveyed a shared understanding of pain as she raised her glass. “A toast to the most determined and distinguished of victors!”

[ofnarcissus]

“Just because you are soft doesn't mean you are not a force. Honey and wildfire are both the colour gold.”

― Victoria Erickson, EDGE OF WONDER: Notes From The Wildness Of Being

Daffodil Park's 134th Victor's Ball Outfit.

[ofnarcissus]

"One Daffodil is worth a thousand pleasures..."

-William Wordsworth

"Citizens of the glorious districts, rejoice in the triumph of our newest victor, a shining beacon of excellence who emerged victorious in the arena! The celebration of her triumphant victory shall commence as she embarks on a grand journey, traveling to each district by the impeccable Capitol train. Prepare yourselves for a rare and splendid opportunity to engage with this remarkable victor. Take advantage of the moment and pose your inquiries, satisfying your insatiable curiosity about the Games and the illustrious champion who emerged from the crucible of competition. Join us in embracing the glory of the Capitol and reveling in the splendor of our victorious tribute!"

-- Pulled from the Capitol archives of the 116th games --