thecapitol | I was raised by wolves, bitch.

Entry tags:

I was raised by wolves, bitch.

Who | Jolie and Clem, possibly Stephen
What | Jolie sees Clem trying to do something creative and can't help telling her how to do it properly.
Where | Starting in the commons, probably heading to D8.
When | After the abetters/aiders are caught
Warnings/Notes | Could be mentions of prison and crap, little kids being sad, Jolie's language

God knows how she pulled this stunt off without being caught, but it's put some wind in her sails that's for sure. She's still terrified that she'll be caught sooner or later, still carefully following the news and breathing sighs of relief when people aren't knocking down her door to drag her away. It fills her with energy, but also a hell of a lot of restless worry. She's been so desperately looking for projects that most of of her Arena preparation is already finished. She feels awful for what she knows is around the corner in that regard.

With no obligations, she doesn't feel like sitting around her workroom all day to fret, so she's bustling down to the floor of the commons to look for a distraction. What she finds definitely grabs her attention, Clementine catches her eye instantly out of curiosity for what she's doing. Her heart sinks just slightly when the cuff becomes apparent, followed by the fact that the poor thing seems intent on trying to decorate it herself. What an adorable little disaster, Jolie can't resist the need to interfere.

"Where'd you nab that from, kid?" She points toward the supplies Clem has gathered with a wry smile before moving to sit nearby her. "Ever think you should get someone to help you with that?"

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When the peacekeepers had show up at D6, for both her and Stephen, Clementine's heart had been in her throat. Realising that she'd been caught she could only imagine what horrible things they might do to her if she couldn't make up a decent excuse and so... so... she'd done the only thing she could think of in the heat of the moment.

She'd started crying.

All the way to the station where they explained what it was she was accused of doing and Clementine had dialled up her theatrics further, saying she hadn't known what they were, she'd just been asked to do favours for people, that was all! She'd just tried to be good, she didn't mean to betray the Capitol and she was so, so sorry for it.

It must have worked because they let her go with just a cuff on her wrist and the warning she had her bank account frozen, and while that sucked in some ways Clementine was far too used to making do with barely anything at all to really mind it.

The cuff however -- that she wanted to try and do something about. Having played her card at the Peacekeepers Clementine realised she would have to keep up the charade she'd started and so this was the result -- and maybe just because the little girl she'd once been liked this sort of thing too. Her stylists wouldn't notice the missing ribbons and glitter she was sure, they had that stuff pouring out of their ears.

"I borrowed it." Clementine looks up at her visitor, grimacing at trying to tie a ribbon one handed and looking as innocent as she possible could. She recognised her even though they'd never actually talked before. "I should have, it's impossible to tie a knot like this."

Jolie can't help but feel a faint twinge of guilt just from looking at it. She doesn't know what a kid could have possibly done to get herself cuffed, but it bothers her. It's not like she wanted to be caught, but there's still a sense of responsibility bubbling when she knows other people are suffering for something she had a part in. At the very least, she can prevent a fashion disaster from occurring.

"Mhmm." Her eyes glean over the supplies and she doesn't even pretend to look impressed, poor kid doesn't even have the nicest shit they can offer. Without asking, she's leaning in and taking the ribbon to knot it efficiently into a bow before sitting back again and giving Clementine a small smile. "It's Clementine, right? District Six? Let me tell you about District Six's stylists." She raises a finger like she's about to say something terribly important. "They're tacky." Yeah, that's it. "You know what I have? A glue gun. And diamante in like a million colours. How about we step it up a notch and I help you make that thing look fierce?" She isn't in the habit of dragging children to her workroom, but all her nice shit is there.

"That's right. Sorry, I don't know your name, what is it?

Clementine looks down to watch and she can't say she isn't impressed, that's probably the most professional looking bow she's ever seen in her life. Definitely better than one she could have tied herself even with both hands -- which she'd defend as never having had much opportunity or need to perfect that skill when traversing a Walker-infested world.

She lifts up her wrist to admire the new shape of the bright fabric and grins at the comment. "You're right, they're always trying to give me frilly stuff." and there's interest in her eyes at the offer, even though she's not sure what diamante is to start with. "That'd be really nice of you, thanks."

"There's a surprise." She looks dramatically affronted by the fact that Clementine doesn't know her, but she's clearly kidding around. "Très Jolie, technically. I don't think anyone calls me anything but Jolie, though." Bastards. "I'm the stylist for district eight."

Her smile softens ever so slightly when she watches Clem admire the bow. Part of her thinks she's easily impressed, but she can't help but be flattered by it.

"Frilly? Blah! Boring." She waves a hand flippantly. She's pretty ashamed of how little direction most of the stylists seem to have, honestly. It's pretty obvious most of them are in it for money and for ridiculing tributes. "C'mon, then. We can take a trip up to eight, then." She beckons for her to follow as she strides back toward the elevator and hits the button, folding her hands politely in front of her as she waits.

"I said sorry." Clementine says with a smile that says she's playing along with the act. "Okay, it's nice to meet you, Jolie." she offers out a hand if she'd like to shake it.

It's not an act to laugh at that comment and Clementine hops off the couch and after a moment of debate decides to leave her pilfered supplies behind her, more curious as to what Jolie has in mind. She runs to catch up the short distance Jolie has already travelled and match her pace to the door of the elevator. "So... what's diamante?"

When the elevator arrives and the doors open, Stephen's standing inside. He blinks once or twice, looking from Clem to Jolie. It's clear they were talking, and it looks like they were waiting for the elevator together, but he can't be sure.

The metal cuff sits snugly on his wrist.

"...hi," he says, eyebrows arched. "Where are you girls off to?" He doesn't get off the elevator yet.

Jolie does shake the hand, because she's not bitchy enough to leave Clementine hanging. She does think it's endearingly formal for a kid her age, she's starting to wonder why they haven't talked before.

She crinkles her nose at the question, trying not to snark too much. "You know diamonds? Right? They're fake ones, little plastic ones you can stick to things."

She smiles at Clem before her attention turns to the elevator and the cuff. She acts fast and pulls a look of disapproval rather than pity, herding Clem forward as she does. "I found this one trying to decorate her cuff alone. Couldn't let a fashion disaster pass me by, so I told her I'd help her glue some shit to it." She glances down to Stephen's cuff again. "Maybe I oughtta help you too."

"Oh. I know those. Alright." she nods, spinning the cuff around her skinny wrist as she follows Jolie. Skinny her wrists may be, but they'd still made it too tight for even Clementine to slip off.

Clementine blinks as she's herded forward, "It wasn't going to be a disaster!" she protests as she steps into the elevator, with childish indignity, "... it would have looked okay." Probably.

She glances at Stephen and his cuff then. "You could put diamanté on yours too, Stephen." she suggests, not without a glint of mischief.

Stephen knows he's not supposed to be friendly with the Tributes -- that he's supposed to be by-the-book, enforcing regulations, treating them harshly. But Clementine could be an exception: after all, publicly, she had only become involved because she'd been tricked. Being friendly with her was probably safe.

He eyes his own cuff. "Hmm...I don't think so," he says, thoughtful. "As much as I hate how impossible it is to accessorize around this thing, it's important for me to face the penalty for my actions. I'm taking my mistake very seriously." Then he looks back up at Clem. "But I think I'll come with you anyway. If Jolie has her way, you'll have diamanté-studded leopard print."

By this point, Jolie had seen his post and she'd seen the stance he was taking. It was clever, she doesn't doubt Cyrus had a part in it, but she also knows Stephen would have had to play him as well. She's quietly impressed by that, she intends to play along as best she can.

"You morons should both think yourself lucky." She says, not without an affectionate lilt. "Coulda done worse, right?" She casts a side glance to Stephen before moving her hands to place them on Clementine's shoulders as they wait, scoffing as if genuinely offended by his assumption. "Fuck you, it'd be fierce. Really though, does she look like a leopard to you? It's gotta be bunnies, alright?"

Edited 2014-08-29 02:51 (UTC)

Stephen's doing the same thing Clementine is, in a different way, both of them playing ignorant to what they'd done, blaming it on the manipulations of others.

Her grin at the banter isn't false, "I'm taking it seriously too. I thought it was Capitol to make everything pretty." it's not even untrue, at least from Clementine's observations of their obsession with appearances. "I know I'm lucky."

Well, bunnies aren't the worse thing. "I could make that work."

"Bunnies it is, then," says Stephen. He gestures forward, telling them to come on into the elevator and pushing the button for floor eight. "But I'm still keeping an eye on you," he says to Clem. "I wouldn't want you getting into any more trouble."

Jolie doesn't know Clementine well enough to know if she's putting on an act or sincerely trying to claim ignorance, but she pities her all the same.

"It's the most Capitol thing I ever did hear." She slips into the elevator and links her hands in front of her politely while smirking to herself. "If you didn't want her in trouble I should probably get out now, huh?" She raises a brow at Stephen as the elevator brings them to eight. "Worst comes to worst I could decorate something else of yours."

"Don't worry, Stephen, I don't mean to." Clementine says, quietly, with a more serious air. Not get caught anyway but she'll definitely be more cautious with any more rebellious activities she's thinking of volunteering for. "It was scary when the Peacekeepers came."

That part definitely wasn't a lie.

She smiles at Jolie, "It's not hurting anything, right?" and she wasn't trying to get it off.

Stephen snorts, opens his mouth to say something -- then glances at Clem, and thinks better of it. He flashes Jolie a grin. It's not hard to guess the kind of thing he almost just said, considering he's been discouraged by the presence of a little girl.

"Don't flatter yourself," is what he actually says. "You're not that bad an influence. The worst thing she'll pick up from you is some colorful language. It's a filthy mouth you've got."

...all right, so maybe he could have left that last part off, but it was halfway out of his mouth before he could stop it. Whoops.

When Clem reflects on it being scary, Jolie almost subconsciously drapes her arms over Clem's shoulders so she can pull her a little closer. She's so tiny, it's hard not to be a little bit protective.

Stephen's comment earns him a snort and she rolls her eyes. "Guess you're the bad influence now." They're usually interchangeable in that regard, though. "Don't worry, I won't do anything that'll get you in trouble. If anyone tries just tell them I peddled fashion on you- that's what they all say anyway." She shrugs dramatically, unwinding her hands and giving Clem a nudge forward when the elevator opens, throwing a small smile toward Stephen. "You coming?"

"I've heard lots of people swear," yep, that double meaning completely flew over Clementine's head, safe and sound. Stephen is in the clear for now. "I haven't started yet."

It's not her visit to D8 by a long shot, she's come here to visit Joel a few times, especially in a morning when he's cooking up one of his giant breakfasts for her, Ellie and anyone else around (when Joel made breakfasts Clementine usually didn't eat again until dinner). She steps forward without hesitation at Jolie's nudge and joins her in giving Stephen an expectant look.

Thank goodness. Stephen laughs, promising to be on better behavior, and steps out after them.

"Of course."

He'll follow; it's not his first visit to D8 as well, not by far. Actually, seeing the inside of Eight makes his face fall, just a little: it reminds him that Natasha's in prison.

But it's only a moment. His smile is back a second later, and he's looking around like nothing happened.

"So how much of this mess is yours?" he teases Jolie.

"Just swear?" Jolie asks, a little less concerned with behaving than Stephen is, but she's pretty sure that will go right over Clem's pretty little head, even when she grins deviously.

Truthfully, Jolie has been making excuses to get out of the place lately. It definitely has less of the life it usually has, but it also has all of her equipment. Maybe bringing some people into the suite will make it feel a little less lonely.

"Mine? Bitch, I don't do mess. This is what happens when your district is all beefcake." She's even huffing at that as she pushes open the door to her workroom which, to her credit, is much tidier. She wastes no time moving to start pulling out containers of sparkly bullshit, all of which is obsessively colour and size coded.

"Why what else?" Clementine asks as she follows Jolie, head turning this way and that as they walk through the suite. Looks like everyone else is out...

... or in jail.

"Beefcake?" is her second question because she did not get that reference. "Is that some kind of food?" That's all that Clementine could reason before her jaw drops slightly at the sight of Jolie's workroom. "Whoa... this is much cooler than the one in D6."

Stephen lets that first question go unanswered in favor of teasing Jolie.

"Oh, please. Joel and Matt Murdock are the only beefcakes in Eight. Unless you count that alien. Garrus?"

He'll settle into a chair, close enough to talk comfortably but out of the way, and blend in perfectly with all the other glittery shit in the room.

Jolie breezes past Clementine asking what she meant as well, focusing on talking about how annoying everyone in her district is rather than explaining herself.

"Beefcake. Because they're beefy. It's a description." She shrugs." Point is, they're all guys. Big, stinky guys." She pulls a face, because she totally isn't exaggerating here.

"Of course it's cooler, they're incompetent." She quips, setting out trays of decorative beads and glitter before flourishing a hand at them. "Pick some shit out, why don't you?"

"Oh. Uh, okay." Clementine still doesn't get the association with beef but whatever, she's not interested enough to pursue that any further. "An alien like Thor?"

The only alien she's met to make a comparison to.

She grins and looks delighted at the trays of shiny, glittery things. The little girl who used to like dolls and stickers and tea parties is poking her head out from under Clementine's usual demeanour. "Okay." she bends over and sets to work, naturally attracted to the pinker side of things.

"Excuse me, I'm still in the room," Stephen says, when Jolie trash-talks Dee Six. He's not bothered, but he's not going to let that pass without teasing right back. "And I could say a thing or two about some of Eight's staff. I won't -- but I could."

"Nah, an alien like an alien who looks like an alien." Did that make sense? "He looks kind of like a dinosaur, real popular with the ladies, I tell ya." She rolls her eyes as she describes him and leaves Clem for a moment to pick out the things she likes.

"Honey.." Her attention turns to Stephen when he speaks up, crossing toward him so she can put her hands either side of his face and make some intense eye contact. "Your stylists are trash." She says with a nod, pulling back to shrug off that comment. "And my escorts are flakes. I'm running the show here, they should pay me double!"

"Is he green? I always thought aliens should be green." Clementine offers her opinion on the matter.

By the time she's finished picking over Jolie's collection she's amassed a reasonably sized pile that should sufficiently cover blinging out her cuff. She smiles at their bickering, "Maybe eight and six should join forces."

He doesn't flinch when Jolie gets all up in his face -- he just grins at her.

"But then we'd leave some poor district with my stylists and her escorts," Stephen laughs. "I wouldn't wish that on any of you."

He quietly notes the amount of pink and sparkle in her cuff-decoration pile. Who'd have thought it from little Clem in her baseball cap? Stephen will remember it, though.

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I was raised by wolves, bitch.

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