trinkett | First Dispatch. How Utterly Dreadful. Voice.

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.]]]]]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Effie, babe, I was a General once. And not just any general. I was a Six Star General. And I led a force of people from a multitude of worlds to success against a madman that wanted to erase us from ever existing. And I won, by the way. Easily."

Oh. Oh. That was sexy, that power. Useful.

"That's.....tell me more."

Nearby, candy-colored robots bobbed and sang about a world of laughter and a world of tears. Their own little boat bumped gently against the walls of the tunnel as they floated through all those beautiful singing dolls.

"Just a moment. It's a little hot in here, don't you think?"

He began to loosen his tie, slowly and carefully, before shrugging out of his jacket.

She smiled at that gesture and tossed off an ever-so-casual "Simmering" before reaching out to help him with that jacket.

"Thanks, babe. But now I feel a little under-dressed." Maybe he ought to return the favor.

Effie misses the sly remark. "No, no no -- in an amusement ride such as this, ties are not required."

Jack gestured to her dress, the wig, everything. "Neither is all that."

She almost nervously fingers the buttons at her throat. "Here? NOW? In..."

What were those dancing puppets? There was a label under them, proclaiming their homeland.

"Spain?"

"That's right. Here in Spain, the saucy senoritas prefer to live... free. Be indulgent-like."

He reached over, to her buttons at her neck, and rather daringly attempts to undo the very first one.

Oh. Indulgent. She closes her eyes and lets him. Soon enough she will have her rightful place in this dump of Luceti.

"It is fun to indulge...general."

If he does manage to get most of her gear off, he will discover a pretty-enough blond with her hair slicked tightly back to keep it under that wig. Effie's kinda the curvy type, which is very in in the Capitol at the moment.

He took his time undoing the buttons, peeling back the fabric as he got past each step. For the moment, his focus was just on her top. But at a certain point, just when he's just shy of dipping below the cleavage, he removes the wig. He then runs a finger through her real hair.

"Look at that. We've got something in common."

This guy knew how to undress a girl covered with yards of structured hot-pink fabric. Effie was impressed.

Also kinda squirmy. Eager. It had been a while for her, this kind of thing.

"We are both fabulous, you mean," she teased. They were both opportunists, though to different degrees -- that was certain.

Jack Horner had lived a long time, from an era when women dressed in what was most practical, to when women dressed in what was most impractical, to a current era where they dressed in what looked best. He'd learned there were all manner of ways to unwrapping a prize. The overdressed ones required special care, because he had to put at least half the effort to taking off the clothes that she put into putting them on.

"The stuff of legends, us." Continuing to stroke back her hair, he nibbled a kiss on the side of her ear, before returning to task of 'unwrapping his prize'.

"Mmmmmmm. And what position will you give me?"

She meant politically.

"You can have any position you like."

He meant sexually.

She paused. "Something...diplomatic."

He had no idea what she meant by that, except to maybe suggest she didn't want anything super kinky. "Missionary?"

"Missionary seems far too...simplistic. For what I have to offer."

She meant her skills and talents in public relations. She didn't want to spend all her time around savages, communicating political dogma to them.

"You're right. A woman like you have a lot to offer. I'm eager to see exactly what it is."

Feeling that the situation was promising again, he went back to the task of undoing the rest of those buttons.

She covered his fingers with her own, trying to still them for a moment. This required clarification. "But we haven't settled on position, yet!"

Oh. Damn. She was stopping him. He wasn't sure why this was so important to her. "I don't like to decide something like that right away. It's best to see how flexible you are first."

"I can do so many things!" she rushed to assure him, tightening her hold on his fingers. "I'm quite efficient! And I've been told I have a most gripping speaking voice."

Speaking voice. What did that have to do with...

"That's fine. You can be as loud as your want to be."

Effie grinned at him. "A lady is never loud. She just speaks with a certain authority and pleasantness."

Authority. Pleasantness. He squinted. "We're still talking about sex, right?"

It wouldn't be the first time

WELL IT'S NOT WRITTEN IN STONE YET LET'S SEE.

dun dun dun...!!

:O

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