C'mon Down To The Talent Show // [ 66th Tribs Blitz ]

There had been nights at training center camp which had descended into madness. They always started innocently, well intentioned. Like this one. If he'd judged the night on the first two entrances, he would have marked it a failure. The first girl sat by herself and the second looked barely old enough to be reaped.

He changed his mind about that as she approached, all wide eyes and determination. She would be a knock-out, someday. Well, an alternate someday, wherein one of their lives did not depend on the other. He couldn't remember her name, but he did remember her reaping reel. All those siblings, just like him. Except she was no Phena, no Etta, not even Petalite. No. She was Pyrite with a vengeance. He would not dismiss her, wouldn't pander to her by asking for an assistant. "I very much doubt that." He eyed her, the door, the stream of tributes now joining them. "Can you make sure no one who's not supposed to be here stays out?"

And then the night starts spiraling with the first volunteer. Argo leans back against a table, an easy grin on his face as Magenta entertains them with her bendy body. He cocks his head, rapt, not prepared. She sits; he saunters over, ever the good sport. She leans in. And it's not because he's the announcer, not because he's on the brink of death. There is electricity with Magenta, sparking as his hand covers hers, heartbeat in his throat. Just one more inch...

Argo folds his lips together, chuckling. "Saved by the bell," he whispers, drawing back. It's not just a voice but a body, and it takes him a moment to sort the blonde from the brunette. He can't remember either of their names. He barely think past the next heart beat. The madness has taken root. He used to watch things like this unfold, except usually attentions were directed at Kellan Fray. Correction: usually the attentions of his sisters were directed at Kellan Fray. But he wasn't here tonight, and neither were they. He didn't have them; he didn't even have a real microphone to put between himself and Hannah - that was her name.

"I think we've reached the maximum number of contestants for the kissing category." He announces, drawing back. "It's time for a new category. What do you think? Gentlemen?" He turns around, gaze landing on Claude, hoping he'll help him, be like Kellan Fray. Well, maybe not exactly like Kellan Fray. His smile is mischievous as he turns in a circle. "Anyone brave enough?"

All hell is breaking lose.

A man other than my father ignored my advances! There was nothing blurred about my attempt to woo Mr. Shore, a hot guy like him would have undoubtably been aware of my intentions, but he turned me down. He must be working with my father, trying to keep me from enjoying life, trying to keep the one thing that I want right now, away from me.Yet I cannot come off as desperate, so I smile as he backs away from me. No matter what Mr. Argonite Shore is thinking right now, I could promise that he will be mine. Even against his best wishes, he, like all other men do, will succumb to me tempting advances.

And he will like it.

I glide over to the table holding the bottle, probably vodka or something of the sort, and pour some into my ever handy shot glass. Boy does it pay to be wealthy. Back home we had some five bars in the house, each with it's own bartender. Back home I was able to do whatever I wanted whenever I wanted, and there were people paid to help me! And even if there weren't people paid to help me around, I'd always have others who chose to help me because I"m just so damn attractive.

I do miss it. I miss how this double shot would have been poured by someone else. Someone with more experience at it than I -- then again I do have decent experience pouring shots. Despite this, I manage to pour a triple instead of a double, but I won't complain about it. Without a call for cheers, I simply go bottoms up and down the shot. As always, it burns on the way down, and my want for a chaser shows itself with assuredly mangled look on my face. But I manage. I can't show weakness to these children who I will be slaughtering soon, that will give them hope, and hope is bad.

Even though the effects of alcohol are yet to kick in, I know they are coming, however slight they will be. Instead of looking slighted by Argo, I try to take charge of the situation. I playfully punch him, "Hey Argo, why do you want everyone else to show off their talents? Besides your skill of attracting beautiful women, you must have some other talent? Why not show it off? I lick my lips, "Or are you not man enough to do so?"

I reach to pour another double shot of vodka, my goal soon to be accomplished.