where; the gala with; open
"I think I could get away with stealing the president's pajamas." thimble declared after what appeared to be a genuine moment of reflection. they were standing in one of the hallways just outside the bulk of the party. "for no particular reason at all, I think if I could figure out which room is his, I could get into it. when I get into it, I can easily find them and then take them. who would think to stop me? why? what would they do if I got caught? kill me? seems a bit redundant, no? and frankly, quite petty over pajamas. besides, we all can extrapolate they don't want us to die yet, right? that's why they've got the whole energy field over the tribute center to prevent a hop, skip, and jump. so at worst, it looks like I would be punished extra during the games, and at that point... wouldn't it just be funny to have the president's pajamas?"
when there was no immediate response, nor even a reaction, at the somewhat outlandish statement, thimble narrowed both eyes. they lifted a finger and prodded the shoulder of the figure they'd been babbling to who appeared to be made of stone. "hm." that should probably be filed under embarrassing, but as the last two statues they tried to talk to turned out to be people, this seemed to track in the convoluted ways of the Capitol. they turned away and took a sip of the cup in their hand. "so apparently the marble I've been talking to for the last five minutes doesn't have an opinion on it. do you?"
