NOW THERE'S A FUCKING GLADIATOR (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
gladiayyygirl) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2014-10-12 09:22 am
gladiayyygirl) wrote in thecapitol2014-10-12 09:22 am
hey oceana can we go thrift shopping
Who| Oceana and Gannicus
What| A very professional measurements session between a Tribute and his Stylist. Really professional and definitely not an excuse to touch Gannicus's muscles. Yeah.
Where| Oceana's studio
When| pre-Crowning
Warnings/Notes| such awful language
The mornings are essentially a write-off for Gannicus. He spends them hungover and recovering in the District Nine suites, unable to do much beyond be a large, noisy nuisance in the lounge and make a shameless mess of the kitchen. When he feels more human once more he inflicts himself upon the Training levels, punishing his suffering body and pushing himself to another kind of excess. It isn't until late in the day that he emerges again, returning to the District Nine rooms having sweated out more alcohol than a normal person would drink in a whole evening.
Showered and dressed - barely, in a pair of slim shorts and not a single scrap of anything more - he wanders bare-footed to his next task. Modern day clothing has been something that Gannnicus hasn't quite grasped yet, and he isn't exactly keen on fixing that. Still, a meeting with his Stylist is a good enough way to pass an hour or so before he plans to throw himself with abandon back out in to the bars of the city and repeat the whole process all over again.
He knocks on the door of the studio with a fist and waits.
What| A very professional measurements session between a Tribute and his Stylist. Really professional and definitely not an excuse to touch Gannicus's muscles. Yeah.
Where| Oceana's studio
When| pre-Crowning
Warnings/Notes| such awful language
The mornings are essentially a write-off for Gannicus. He spends them hungover and recovering in the District Nine suites, unable to do much beyond be a large, noisy nuisance in the lounge and make a shameless mess of the kitchen. When he feels more human once more he inflicts himself upon the Training levels, punishing his suffering body and pushing himself to another kind of excess. It isn't until late in the day that he emerges again, returning to the District Nine rooms having sweated out more alcohol than a normal person would drink in a whole evening.
Showered and dressed - barely, in a pair of slim shorts and not a single scrap of anything more - he wanders bare-footed to his next task. Modern day clothing has been something that Gannnicus hasn't quite grasped yet, and he isn't exactly keen on fixing that. Still, a meeting with his Stylist is a good enough way to pass an hour or so before he plans to throw himself with abandon back out in to the bars of the city and repeat the whole process all over again.
He knocks on the door of the studio with a fist and waits.