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 Bite Me., With Zara Van Allen
Circe Hallworth
 Posted on: Jan 11 2018, 05:17 PM
Quote
"Don't want what I can get"
Nineteen
Mentor
Posts: 323
Shadow
Rep: 22 pts


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Circe was about ready to hit someone. She was in a sour mood, depressed as hell, borderline suicidal. She was looking to get in trouble, if she hit someone, if she threatened someone’s life, maybe she’d get shot. Maybe someone would just put her out of her fucking misery. Things weren’t going well for the newest victor. Not in the least. Her word was cracking all around her. She was seeing things, feeling things, things that weren’t there. Supposed to be dead, gone, defeated. Things that she didn’t understand. Her walls were down, her barriers were broken. It was the lowest point in Circe’s victory. The worst possible time to be summoned to the capitol. She would’ve stayed home today, all locked up in her house where no one could bother her. She could sleep the day away, not worry about a damn thing. But that wasn’t a luxury Circe would get.

Instead she was here in the capitol. Standing at the train station, waiting for a Zara Van Allen. She was the one who’d sent her the stupid fucking telegram. Threatening her with dire consequences if she didn’t show. Like Circe was scared, or could be scared of anything the capitol had to dish out. She didn’t know why they needed her, she didn’t care. It was likely for some stupid publicity thing Circe could care less about. She hadn’t done too much to shape her image. The fire victor had been quiet in these first few months. A few scandals here and a couple victory parties there, but nothing outrageous. There’d been no roar to the flames just yet. And she was fine with that. With everything that was happening, she was in no mood to be prancing around on her fake little stage. But that was exactly what they were making her do by calling her here.

Here in the capitol she had a standard to upkeep, an image to appeal to. She was Circe Hallworth, firecracker victor. Spitfire silver tongue and fiery attitude. But that wasn’t who she was feeling like. She felt like she was going insane. She was torn to pieces by what she’d done. Even started drinking. Heavily. Something she rarely ever did before her victory. People didn’t need to know about that though. Why? Circe didn’t really know. She really didn’t care what people thought. They could all go to hell. But something kept her from breaking down completely. Something within her simply wouldn’t budge. Hopefully, for her sake, it would stick.

She looks around the station for anyone that stands out. She wasn’t sure how she was supposed to recognize who would be here to receive her. But whatever, whenever miss “Allen” decided to show her face, Circe would be ready. She leans against a cold metal beam, arms crossed over her chest. Every now and then her fierce blue eyes would flick back and forth within the crowd. This better be worth it.
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Zara Van Allen
 Posted on: Jan 12 2018, 10:17 AM
Quote
Let Me Entertain You...
37
Victor Handler
Posts: 44
Suzi
Rep: 1 pts



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Every time there was a new victor, it was just a matter of time before Zara received a phone call. Mr Lumage was the new secretary to the president, and it was usually him who her business was with. He'd told her that the hype for Circe was dropping rapidly and that it was far too soon to have her swept under the rug with the rest of the victors. No... and young, attractive and fiery victor like her needed to be in the spotlight for a much more prolonged period of time. So far, the Capitol wasn't impressed, and Zara needed to change that - in any way she could. "Whatever it takes" was the usual phrase given to her by Mr Lumage, for it was often his neck on the line if things didn't go their way. Not that Zara particularly cared for the health of Mr Lumage, she did, however, care for her reputation, and one little girl wasn't going to tarnish that.

She had decided to greet the victor herself, with the company of four - rather large - men. They were dressed in black suits, and wore pairs of shades to hide their watchful eyes. Zara was confident enough not to need the men... but you couldn't be too careful. She'd seen her games, and what she was capable of. Zara wasn't exactly strong, but she did hold a presence that no one seemed to dare cross. She was high in threats, and amongst many capitolites, not exactly a friendly face.

Zara had been watching Circe rather closely over the past six months. She'd watched her games throughout, watched the ways in which she killed, spoke and moved. She'd learnt to expect the worst from her, and boy did Zara hope she'd have an excuse to put her in her place. Nevertheless, she enjoyed the victor's attitude, it was refreshing... compared to the scared, shivering imbreds she'd seen before. [i]Alvin and Eleanor[i] sprung to mind. They were easy to control, all it took was a little bit of fear... threats... that was it. Zara had a feeling Circe was going to be entirely different. That girl had little fear, that much she could tell from the get-go. She assumed this was going to be an interesting conversation.

The theatrics she usually would reserve for the lower districts shouldn't be necessary in this instance. Not today, anyway. The career districts were generally the most pro-capitol of them all. The complete opposite of district eight, who were consistently the most troublesome. When Zara arrived at the station punctually, she noticed Circe was already leant up against a metal beam, looking as miserable as ever,
"Ms. Hallworth," Zara said, hands on hips. She didn't bother to outstretch her hand towards her, she merely looked the girl up at down. Zara had dressed in her official clothes, a long, tight black pencil skirt, with a blouse tucked in, paired with a matching jacket, and heels - of course. "Come with me," she said, waiting for the girl to move off of her leant position before taking a step towards her town car. It was new, with black-out windows, and an extended back.
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Circe Hallworth
 Posted on: Jan 12 2018, 02:59 PM
Quote
"Don't want what I can get"
Nineteen
Mentor
Posts: 323
Shadow
Rep: 22 pts


Ms. Hallworth. Circe hated that. Being called “Hallworth”. That wasn’t her name. That was her father’s name. Circe even thought about changing it. To what? She didn’t know. But at least she wouldn’t have anything to do with her family name. She didn’t want a damn thing to do with them. Circe only addressed the woman with a simple and defiant flick of her eyes. “Circe, actually. Has more meaning.” It was the truth, even if she was spiteful about it. Her full name packed quite the punch, even without all the glamor of her current title as victor. But she didn’t care. Circe was the best fit for her. What could she say? She more or less had a death wish. Course, she’d said that before she really assessed the situation for how severe it really was.

Though her fierce gaze doesn’t waver, an amused smirk plays across her expression upon seeing the bodyguards that surround the capitolite. It occurred to her that this little get together no longer carried the similar signs of her capitol visits. Not a newly thought up publicity stunt for her to try. Were they there for a matter of protection? Or were they simply there to intimidate her into complying? She wasn’t impressed with their display. Circe was hardly ever impressed by anything. And either way, she didn’t care what they were there for. She didn’t really care about anything, much less whatever Zara had dragged her out of district four for.

It was true Circe had been shying away from the fame that was rightfully hers. Ever since that night she fought with Kandyll. Everything had gone horribly downhill since then. The rowdy partying at the bars in four, the trouble she’d get into with “friends”. All of it stopped immediately after that. After that mental breakdown. She hardly left the house. She’d shut herself away from the rest of the world to mourn. Apparently, she’d been missed. Everyone wanted to know where she was, what happened to the fire victor that would always have some new big scandal to show off. She didn’t know. And they didn’t know. Circe was smarter than that to just share her sorrows with the world. So no one had a clue.

She’d shown herself in public, but that didn’t mean she had to actually attract any attention. Or anyone had to know she was in the capitol at all. It was wintertime, perfect to harbor Circe’s depressive state of mind. She’d worn a big fluffy coat that covered most of her body, added layers to her small and muscular physique. She had tied up her fiery red hair under a hat for the purpose of hiding, but it served really no point. Circe’s red hair had taken the fashion world by storm. All the most fashionable were wearing her look. As for her face, she just was sure to keep her head down on the train, to focus on the bleak world as the train rushed by.

She pushes off the wall and stuffs her hands in the pocket of her coat before looking to the car Zara moves towards. She stops for a moment, eyes narrowing at the car. Circe wasn’t stupid. She could easily realize just how suspicious this situation seemed. And just how much she shouldn’t get into that car. But really, Circe could care less what happened to her. Maybe a little taste of danger would push her back to what once was. One of the men holds open one of the doors for her. She looks up at him for a moment. Had she been her usual self she might’ve said something bold, something flirty. But she didn’t. Instead she silently climbed into the car and settled down onto the lavishly velvet seat.

It was a large car. It was all done up and practically screamed capitol. Once everyone has piled in, she looks to Zara with a raised brow. She crosses her arms over her chest. “So I’m guessing we’re not on our way to a photoshoot…” she looks to the guards, a bored expression on her face. She turns back to Zara. “What exactly is it that I’m here for?” she asks boldly.
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Zara Van Allen
 Posted on: Jan 18 2018, 08:55 AM
Quote
Let Me Entertain You...
37
Victor Handler
Posts: 44
Suzi
Rep: 1 pts



Compliance. It was an important word to most; it was an important word to the Capitol - but it was not something that would be largely associated with Zara. She answered to very few people in this world - the president, of course... and perhaps a couple of his politicians. Other than that? Zara was her own woman. She had all the power she could dream of really, and then some. Her job meant she was mistress to perhaps the strongest in Panem, and such gave her the respect and admiration of many who knew her well. Her role of victor handler was not widely known, though - not amongst the Capitolites anyway. There were a few trusted regulars who were... somewhat aware of her close dealing with the victors, for the reason that she'd occasionally be asked to arrange a special night for them and one of their favourites from the games. Convincing them was never easy, but as long as you found the right leverage, the easier everything seemed to become. Everyone had a weak spot - that much had been clear to Zara all these years. Did Zara know Circe's? That was yet to be seen. The woman had been smart, and for that Zara respected her - as much as was humanly possible for the woman, so maybe a different approach would be necessary to get Circe to comply with Z's demands.

As the woman walked to the car she considered Circe's correction. Circe, actually. Has more meaning. Zara couldn't care less about meaning - what did it matter if your name meant "the ocean" or "water", or whatever Ser-Sie even represented? Might as well grow up and get on with life before worrying what it was people called you.
"Please bore someone else with the frivolities of name meaning," Zara said bitterly as she turned and walked towards the town car. She had never been anyone's "best friend," for Zara knew not when to hold her tongue. She cared little about the feelings of others and took great joy in their misery. See, Zara was pretty self-absorbed, and she rarely did anything unless it suited her, and she certainly wasn't about to bother worrying what poor Circe would rather be called.

If anything was shady, it was certainly the picturesque scene of entering a black-out car with Zara Van Allen. She was recognisable to some for owning the sleazy strip club in the back alleys of the Rave Quarter. Circe was probably one of the most recognisable faces in Panem right now, so she knew they'd better get out of the public eye as soon as possible. The car was, of course, lavish - it had been provided by Mr Lumage - and of course, they wanted only the best for their new victor. Zara wasn't exactly going to pass that up, and so she gladly stepped inside the gleaming black car.

Once Circe had joined her, she was immediately met with a question. This one didn't mess around, huh. Zara thought it might be pretty obvious why she was called here. The girl had practically gone dead silent over the past few months. No Capitol visits, no screen time - no nothing.
"Want to skip the small-talk? And I had been so looking forward to talking about hair-products with you," she said sarcastically, with a fake pep-girl voice. Not giving any time for Circe to cut in, Zara folded her arms and continued, more serious now, "You've been asked here because the hype for you is dying, and fast." She looked her over, "I can't say I'm surprised," she added maliciously, "but... we're going to change that." She said decisively, and it wasn't like Circe had any choice in the matter.

The car started smoothly and headed towards the underground - there were a series of old abandoned rooms beneath the service of the Capitol, and a large part of it was gifted to Zara by her good friend, Mr Lumage. It was where she dealt with her victors, and Circe would be no different - however, her usual torture rooms were off the cards, for now.

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Circe Hallworth
 Posted on: Jan 20 2018, 05:28 PM
Quote
"Don't want what I can get"
Nineteen
Mentor
Posts: 323
Shadow
Rep: 22 pts


Oof. This woman was not what Circe usually saw from the capitolites. While usually capitolite women were bright and bubbly, this one seemed wound up far too tightly to actually be from the party loving capitol. Tell her that Zara was from one of the lower districts that were known for their bad attitudes? That was far more believable. Even dressed up as she was. Circe merely rolled her eyes like a defiant teenager when Zara went sour at her insistence of being called “Circe”. What was putting her so out of place? It’s just a name, don’t get your panties in a wad. But, all in all, she got what she wanted. A rise.

Circe didn’t think the capitol cared all that much as to whether she was on top of the world or not. All her life she’d just assumed that was an extra benefit to winning. One she was allowed to indulge in or not. She was entirely unaware that wasn’t the case at all. Circe simply grinned at the woman in response to her snarky comments. Circe had been forced out of her district into the company of this woman. Did she want to be here? Not at all. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t have fun pushing buttons. That’s what she did. Or, at least, what she used to do. Having fun wasn’t something on your mind when you choose to hole yourself up in your house.

She listens to the reasons Zara gives. They’re not a cause for alarm, or really any sort of concern in Circe’s eyes. There was a reason for all of that. She wanted to be alone. She was better off all by herself without the prying eyes of the public to look in on her problems. They could all assume whatever they wanted. Fact was, Circe was completely burnt out. She had nothing left to give. And there was nothing left to take. “That’s a damn shame” she chuckles, clearly not taking much interest in the idea. “Maybe I’m just not people’s cup of tea” she grins with a shrug. “Can’t say I care too much...though, I don’t see why you would” Circe raises an eyebrow at her. Zara mentioned something about changing her popularity status. She made it sound sinister, like she had some fun little game ready for Circe to play.

However, in Circe’s case, she wasn’t all that concerned. These days, there wasn’t much that could budge the victor. But the idea was intriguing. Changing how things were. Circe was so damn miserable on her own. Perhaps the capitol had something planned for her that would change things up? She’d like to see what Zara had to try. So, rather than snap back with another snarky reply, she goes silent with a slight nod. She could play nice. As long as there was something in it for her.
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