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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.]]]]]
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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A nightclub.
I thought you were a general?!"
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"Take off your pants," she instructed. But half of the thrill of it had fled for Effie. It was going to be physical pleasure without the all-important social climb.
Well. Physical pleasure was still something very good which she had not had for quite a long time.
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Jack Horner. Fable power. With a wide grin, he stood up in the ride and began to unzip.
"If you want, you can still pick position."
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There were hopes. There were fears. There was going to soon be some gasping and moaning and a diligent display of gyration technique as she dug her sharp magenta fingernails against Jack Horner's scalp. There was much to share and Effie was becoming more than aware that, in Luceti, it was a small world after all.
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As he let her have her way with him, he let his hands do his own exploring. The first thing he did was remove the wig. In the back of his mind, he recalled the time the last time he did this on this very same ride. He remembered not feeling an ounce of sympathy for the family that got on right after he and whatshername got off the ride.
He buried his face into her neck and gave into passion. This was just what he'd been needing. After all, he'd gone two days without sex.
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Maybe Luceti wouldn't be such a bad place after all.
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"You're some woman, Effie."
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"I could say the same for you.
About being a man, I mean." She was still rather breathless, and now that she was in the light Effie realized that she was also still wigless. She slid off his lap and tried to straighten herself out a bit.
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"I've never had a complaint yet."
He reached for his underwear and suddenly everything vanished and they were in a large empty and well-lit room. The chamber doors opened up to a full view of the battle dome interior.
Oh right. That's what he forgot. The time limit.
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They had gone public. They had gone live. Her bosoms were hanging out!
"Jack!?"
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Outside the chamber, a short Canadian man raised an eyebrow, shook his head, and walked away mumbling something about people wasting precious dome time.
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With the wig in place, she could start getting her clothes in order -- only BARELY appreciative of the fact that he was trying to help her cover her shame, in his own way.
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"Next time?"
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"Do you know of better places?"
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He began to button up his shirt, equally pleased that they'd been left alone. Naturally he had little concern about the rest of his appearance. He looked just as good disheveled as he did all cleaned up and proper. Some might argue he looked better this way.
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Effie slipped her heels back on and leaned in to kiss Jack on the cheek. "When the time comes, I am certain we can make a discreet and appropriate plan," she assured him.
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"Normally this is about the part I'd be making sure I got your number."
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