But I'm not alive until you call

[milieus]

Who| Jennifer Blackwood & Open
What| Open office hours with your friendly neighborhood Capitol liaison.
Where| Jennifer's office at the Tribute Center.
When| After the mini-arena.
Warnings/Notes| ???

Jennifer's office is tastefully appointed and kept tidy as always, with fresh red roses in a vase on her desk, placed beside the framed photograph of her husband, Arturas. The stack of files on her desk are kept in a neat pile, with Punchy's file sitting plainly at the top. It's clear that she's been quite busy, updating, reorganizing, keeping on top of the changes around the Tribute Center.

But Jennifer isn't in at the moment. She's been called out briefly, but is expected to return at any moment. The Avoxes that tend to her needs indicate that any visitors she may have should wait for her in the office at one of the chairs adjacent to her desk. One Avox arrives with a tray of tea, another with some light snacks, though they soon depart, leaving the guest alone for a minute or so before Jennifer's arrival.

Comments

[milieus]

She wanted to slap him. She really did. Instead, she simply took hold of his shoulders again and gave him a single firm shake. "No, it really isn't. It's your job to help them adjust to Capitol life, to get sponsors for them, and to make sure they're prepared for when they enter the arena. You're not their personal trainer. You're their escort. You need to keep that straight."

Her words were likely too harsh for him to handle, though she realized it just a moment too late. He looked so hurt, so much like a sad little boy. It just about broke Jennifer's heart, until she remember that he wasn't some helpless little kid. This was a grown man sitting before her, weeping like a spoiled brat. Her scowl, unfortunately, was quick to return.

"Are you going to carry on like this or are you going to act like an adult and talk this out with me? I'm sure I have your mother's contact information available if you need someone to soothe you." Her tone was cold, but she was mostly bluffing, to egg him into knocking it off.

[perfectus]

The allusion to Adrastea was enough to make him straighten up. One stray tear lingered, slipping down his cheek before he was able to recover fully, or even mostly. His mother could absolutely, under no circumstances, be involved in this. This was his thing. He could handle a few sassy Tributes.

"No, I'm good." He sniffled again. Recovery was a process. "Really."

Except that he still looked utterly deflated. Not even his healthy bronzed complexion and recently exfoliated cheeks could hide exactly how crappy he felt inside. It wasn't fair. He took great pains to always look his best and the stress of this just-- Well, it wasn't helping, that was for damn sure. He was probably going to wake up with grey hairs or something. Everything was awful. "Don't call Adrastea-- Please. But I need advice, Jenny. How do you get them to listen?"

[milieus]

Now that he seemed to be closer to calm, Jennifer felt more readily able to deal with him. Really, he had to be the most dramatic man she'd ever met, and she was born and bred in the Capitol, so that was saying something. She leveled him with a stern look, one which likely would seem ridiculous to anyone from beyond their sphere, what with her abundance of eye make up and equally bold purple lipstick.

"You have to show understanding. You must make them think you sympathize with them." It was all very simple. It's how she had managed her wins in District Nine so long ago. "Does that make sense at all? You have to convince them that we are all humans."

She wasn't convinced he would understand her though. He'd been brought up in a system which tried to stamp that kind of thinking out. Asking him to reach inside for something that might be dead already could be like asking a stone to bleed. But Cal wasn't a stone. He was a man. Beneath the glaze of perfection, he was just a man.

[perfectus]

"Why wouldn't we be humans?" From beneath the crocodile tears, a look of confusion crept slowly across his face. The unspoken questions, of course, was why would being a Tribute be dehumanizing? At least any more so than life as usual in the Capitol. He pondered deeply, visibly, the gears turning in his head turning in quick and efficient succession. He couldn't figure it out. At least not now.

"I don't hate them. I just want them to win. I want what's best for them." The existential angst in his tone had dissipated only to be replaced by a peculiar, utterly sincere intensity. "They have an opportunity that a lot of people want. I can understand why they might be upset, I guess." He shrugged his shoulders. Even that was efficient, almost mechanical. "But they need to understand that in this world, people want the opportunity to do what they do here."

[milieus]

"In District Two, maybe that's true." Her voice dropped low, barely above a whisper, though her words were crisp and clear. What she was saying was risky, and she knew it was dangerous to say such things in her office, since it was very likely bugged. But it had to be said. Cal had to understand. "It's not like that in the outer districts. In places like Nine, Ten, Eleven, the people never wanted to be Tributes, no matter how glamorous we tried to make it seem. Those people never got volunteers like Two did. Those people were forced to give up their children. They didn't have a choice."

Carefully, she reached to touch his forearm, a reassuring gesture in the midst of his sniffling, and her eyes fixed on the locked door behind him, just in case. Slowly, she locked eyes with Cal again, searching his for some sign of depth or understanding. "These new Tributes never asked for the honor of competing in the Games. They aren't being willingly sacrificed. In fact, most of them barely understand the history of our world, or why the Games are an important reminder of our past. How can they be expected to happily participate in our customs when they don't even understand them?"

[perfectus]

Even without her soothing tone and the physical reassurance, Cal knew enough to realize Jennifer was offering something a little more substantial than the typical platitudes. While another person in her position might simply accept his frustrations (which, if he were to be honest with himself, was un-sportsman-like whining) at face value and allow him time to vent in freedom, they wouldn't offer a solution the way she had. They would coddle, they would reassure, but at the end of it all, there would be empty phrases and nothing on which he could build when he had to wake up and do it all again tomorrow. This, whatever this was, was more difficult and yet had the potential to be more beneficial. It was a manifestation of no pain, no gain, a phrase very close to his heart.

Still, to admit to such things, even in the coded way she had just done, had risks. And if Calendius had somehow misread her admissions, or if Jennifer wasn't even aware of their implication, anything he said to confirm them could be equally, if not more troubling. "Maybe we should teach them about our history. That way they can understand. They do kind of get thrown into it all, I guess." He chewed on his words carefully, the human empathy usually hidden in equal parts beneath careful vapidity and tanning lotion struggling to make an odd appearance. "But it's a great system. I'm sure they'd agree with the right education... Right?"

[milieus]

"Right," she answered smoothly, smiling only with her eyes. She wasn't quite convinced, but she wasn't about to admit as much in the Tribute Center. Maybe someday she would feel at ease enough to confess to someone what she really thought, or the things she'd seen on District tours back when she escorted for Nine. But not now. Not yet.

Jenny sat up straight, looking Cal squarely in the eyes for a moment longer before she finally let him go. "You can't bank on them coming around, though. You have to earn their respect and trust. We expect that these things will be second nature to them, but they simply are not. We were raised properly here in the Capitol. You know how different things are, even in One and Two. Compare Crito's manners to your mothers for a moment, and he was a lamb. My mother told me about him though, when he first volunteered. She said he was a little monster, a complete brat. It wasn't until he was broken in that he became so desirable, such a star."

She wasn't trying to vex him, and she did have a point, so she decided to make it quickly. "What I mean to say is we are ambassadors for greatness. You are, I am, all the escorts are. We have to show them how to behave. Throwing tantrums is a poor example, and if they see you do it, they will expect they can get away with it. I won't allow them to be disrespectful to their escorts, but you must show that you respect yourself. Do you, Cal? Do you respect yourself? And do you respect me enough to do what I am asking you to do?"

[perfectus]

"I--" He struggled, searching for the right words. It was suddenly difficult to simply agree. It all suddenly seemed a lot more complicated than just shuffling a few foreigners from one corner of the Capitol to another and getting them a few endorsements. That he could do easily, or relatively easily anyway. This seemed more like a commitment. This would take thought.

Cal wasn't always the best with stuff like commitment and thought.

It took him a few more seconds, but in that time he managed to avoid stammering awkwardly, and even clean himself up a bit. By the time he met Jennifer's eyes again, he was composed. Ish.

"Yeah-- Yeah. I got this, Jenny." He said, with only half-feigned confidence. "Count on me." Commitment was scary, no doubt, but challenges he could do all day. After all, what was the point of being alive if you weren't actively challenging yourself?

[milieus]

Her voice was steady, her gaze conveying more confidence than he seemed to have at that moment. "I am counting on you. I need you by my side. I need you to help me. I can't do all of this on my own, and I must have you with me." She took hold of his hands again, squeezing them once firmly before letting go. "Don't let them defeat you. You're better than that. I know you are."

[perfectus]

There was a sincerity to her touch, real or projected, that seemed to have an affect on him. Cal swelled under her gaze, picking himself up slightly, moving to stand a little bit straighter. "Yeah, I am."

Abruptly, he became aware of how close they were standing, how intimate and revealing this production had been, and how vulnerably he had portrayed himself. Abruptly, with a knot in his otherwise perfect brow, Calendius resumed his posturing.

"Yeah. Thanks, Jenny." He smiled a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. It was just as well, they wrinkled too much when he smiled. Better she notice the gleaming white of his teeth. "You're great, you know. Bet you get that all the time."

[milieus]

"Not as often as I should." Her smiled slowly faded, and with that she felt it was appropriate to release him. To release her hold on him, anyway, lest he get too attached and start thinking of her as a second mother. She only had three years on him, really. And she hardly wanted to mother Cal. No. Not at all.

Jennifer continued, settling back into her chair, "You're going to do much better now, aren't you? Do better than that. Be better than that, Cal. We're the examples and they will follow us or fall by the wayside. You're far too exceptional to be ignored, and so am I."

What a wicked pair they could make, with her scheming and his unwavering loyalty. Oh, the things they could accomplish together. Jennifer had to wonder, had to hope that there would be room for a man like Calendius in the future she had in mind. She had visions of what the world could be like if she ran it. Enlightenment, expanded liberty, with the educated elite leading the way. She would be the empress come bearing freedom, and Cal would be... what would Cal be? Her soldier. Yes. Every queen needs a knight, and he would be hers.

And Arturas would be her... Well, he could still be her king. It wasn't as though any of it mattered anyway. It was all in her head. But it was so nice to pretend and imagine all the what-ifs. If she wanted to, she could get lost in all the what-ifs of her mind.

[perfectus]

Exceptional. That was a word he didn't mind hearing, particularly from her. He smiled again, this time allowing the expression to betray the lines around his eyes. There was nothing in his head about knights and queens, or political aspirations, he was just happy to be there, working for a District 2 victory. He would do everything in his power to get it, and if his efforts occasionally earned him her favor, well, so much the better for it. He liked Jenny.

"Yeah. We have to lead by example." He nodded quickly, the gelled spikes in his hair bouncing ever so slightly with the movement. "I don't want to promise any of them anything, but I can try and help them and show them how it's done. What they can do."

[milieus]

Jennifer didn't smile, but she did nod. He'd caught on, and what's more, he would be obedient. If only she could cultivate such beneficial relationships with all of her escorts. Life would certainly be a lot more manageable in the tower if everyone were as malleable as Calendius. But she would take what little strides she could.

"That's right. And I want to see more of that smile, Cal." She finally deigned to smile at him, mouth closed. "Now, is there anything else I can help you with today?"