trinkett | First Dispatch. How Utterly Dreadful. Voice.

[Anyone who meets Effie in this post will meet her in full Capitol fashion and makeup. She landed in the shop, you see. A stiff turquoise-blue structured gown, fortunately, landed beside her.

And the wig -- thank the Senate! There were plenty of wigs and there was HER wig, tight and blond and curled and fabulous -- and the new violet wings sprouting from her shoulders were quite irregular but one never drew attention to one's irregularities. If anyone asked, they were Fashion. With any luck everyone who was anyone in the Capitol would be wearing similar ones, soon.

The makeup took a bit longer. Effie finally settled on green because green is one of her Power Colors and it IS almost spring, after all. She drew her lips in a pursed bow to reflect her dissatisfaction with everything.

It had only taken a quick readthrough of the Guide for Effie to grasp somewhat what was going on. It wasn't terribly shocking, but it was highly disappointing. She'd wanted to be in the Capitol for Katniss and Peeta, not transferred to a new post just at the height of a possible professional and personal triumph. Her charges were brilliant! Cinna had shown their fire to everyone. The sensation had been rampant and her promotion near-assured. Effie Trinket's star had been rising in the Capitol, the heart of Panem and civilization.

And then Someone had Bumped her. It was the only explanation for all of this business of waking up in a clothing store in what was obviously a cheap, outlying serfdom of Panem. A lesser woman would have called that Bumping Someone a dirty word, but Effie had dignity and would find other ways to trample that usurper into dust once she got back on her feet and back to the Capitol.]

Attention, Attention:

[Her usual rather chirpy voice is a bit tempered by the fact that she has only recently awakened in a clothing shop in a strange town.]

Would any available Peacekeepers in District Luceti please report to the Clothing Emporium? I repeat: any available Peacekeepers. The Diplomatic Escort for the Tributes requires a full compliment of Security. [Yes: she was still clinging to what she assumed was her now-stripped title and position.]

Thank you.

[[[[IMPORTANT NOTE: While Effie WILL be in full Capitol couture clothing and makeup for this post, some of my icons are simply those of her PB, Elizabeth Banks. I will probably try to MOSTLY use the icons from the Hunger Games movie but just assume she's all made up and dressed to the very weird nines even if you get a plain Elizabeth Banks icon! THANKS.]]]]]

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Absolutely. They're all really hot too. That's nice.

Hot.

[Well now her voice has become crisper, cooler. Almost disdainful, though she is still smiling.]

Yes, I'm sure it is very nice for you.

Might makes Right, of course. The Common Man has Common Thoughts. The Glitterati are the Literati. Don't Question Authority.

"Is it some form of...punishment?"

She seemed interested in this.

"Self-inflicted punishment, maybe."

Yes. Y'know, attractive, gorgeous. Hot.

[He is giving entirely the wrong impression of their house. Well, no. Of his place in their house. The other three though... The point is, he cares not one bit.]

I love it. Nice view in the morning.

I prefer for NO one to see me in the morning. Not before I have applied the Morning Makeup.

Wow. That was very, very strange.

"Don't let me ever," she cautioned him in what were for Effie Trinket highly familiar tones. "The moment I show up dressed as a mouse with a polka-dot bow on my head, send me straight to the Arena. Weaponless."

"Babe, I'll strip search you myself, just to be sure."

"Come now -- you're not a peacekeeper. Are you certain you are trained in proper strip-search procedures?"

"Trust me, Effie, I'm a pro at it."

"Mmmmm." She glanced around and noticed a ride where they could be...more alone. Sheltered from prying eyes.

There was just something magnetic about this man. This celebrity.

"Let us ride in the It's a Small World boat together." Perhaps he would prove it to her there.

Maybe she wouldn't even protest.

His face soured a bit at her choice of ride. Of course, the entire place was private, because only they were real. But the thought of that animatronic hell sounded particularly painful. But. It's what the woman wanted, so with her still by his side, he changed course to lead her there.

"I hope you don't mind cheesy songs."

Effie loves them. The more quasi-pseudo-positive, the better.

"I suspect I shall be too busy enjoying the view to mind much."

She let her eyes slide over his face. Had she ever seen such a chiseled jaw?

There were few men, even among the Fables, to be able to boast such a jawline. His father, Prince Charming, was one of them. Jack had certainly taken after his old man, even if he'd never admit it. But as it was, he was busy trying to imagine what she looked like underneath that poofy outfit. Undressing her with his eyes wasn't that hard, but he'd much rather be doing it with his hands. And for the love of all that was good, make her lose the wig.

"I know exactly what you mean."

Now, the benefit of a fake Disney Land was that there were no lines. Or rather, you could program it that way and Jack had been clever enough to do just that. So rather than the fuss of standing around with a bunch of people you despised for having the same idea you did, they were permitted to go straight to the front. Gentleman that he was, Jack offered a hand to help her into the ride.

There were few women who could resist that kind of princely charm. Even fewer would have the presence of mind to try to make use of it for their own purposes, and Effie was one of these. She wasn't by nature a conniving sort of woman. But a girl who had grown up and gone far in the Capitol -- who worked the social scene of that place of ironclad social rules and hierarchies -- wasn't above searching out the sheen of celebrity wherever she could find it.

And he was so handsome. And helpful. And he'd taken her to this beautiful place, where many little children sang and moved with charmingly jerky animatronic motions. They were beautiful and perfect and false and gay!

Effie smiled as she took his hand and climbed into the boat. This man had been in movies. He was assuredly a Someone it was best to know and to impress, and she was prepared to pull out the stops. There was no way she would pass up an opportunity to gain back her career, or whatever was closest to it here.

"My, my! Quite the gentleman!"

"Anything for the lady."

He disliked the association with his so-called dad, but nonetheless, Jack Horner practically oozed charm. When he was in his suit and with just the correct amount of stubble, he was irresistible to women. Of course, Fable women often had enough time to learn to resist him. But mundy women. Oh, mundy women were always easy. Maybe not always in Luceti, but if he were clever enough, he might realize his success wasn't all him, but a certain amount of popularity power. A power that was effectively halved in Luceti. But he'd been batting a little better lately. Maybe it was the power of a small amount of sincerity, but he figured it was just good karma catching up to him for the ten years of hell he'd faced prior to Luceti.

Jack made sure she was sitting well and proper before he took his place next to her. Already he was annoyed at the singing, but he was too busy thinking to himself how to turn this preschool nightmare into a bedtime fantasy. So as the boat slipped into the tunnel, he casually slipped his own arm around her. Naturally it was just so he could grab her attention and point out one little singing group of dancers that he thought was particularly horrific, but that she might think was nice.

"Oh!" she cried in unfeigned delight. "Aren't they precious?!" And Effie snuggled a little closer against his side.

[It's a tone she recognizes. How many times has she heard it before? That voice that demands apology when apology is most certainly not due.

The result is anything but an actual apology. She scowls instead, not at all caring that Effie can't see her.

Then, she sighs. As frustrating as Effie Trinket can be, she does owe her something, doesn't she? Would the Games have gone anything the same if she had had a different chaperon?]

I'm at home.

There's no paperwork to fill out.

You're on the same level as the rest of us!

Then you need peacekeepers to help from preventing the same happen to you. [ It is obvious by Marita's tone does not approve of this. ]

And you truly believe that?

[Light...this woman is a fool.]

He leaned his head against hers, up until the moment his head was up against all that poofy hair. And then he had to pull it back with what was well practiced regret.

"They aren't the only precious things here."

Oh heavens, was he messing up her wig? She reached up and patted it self-consciously, hoping it hadn't slid out of place.

"Why Jack. I'll bet a man with your insights is a great leader in this place."

[And no invitation forthcoming?]

Home where, may I ask?

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I have a feeling Jack is gonna end up DISAPPOINTED in this thread.

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