ℭᴀʟᴇɴᴅɪᴜs ℜᴇʏ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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thecapitol2014-11-28 09:38 pm
perfectus) wrote in thecapitol2014-11-28 09:38 pm
Entry tags:
look up in the mirror the mirror look at me (open)
Who| Calendius Rey and open!
What| 3 prompts
Where| District 2 Suite, Training Center, around the Capitol
When| Various points in the day. See the prompts please.
Warnings/Notes| Well. Cal is vapid as hell so that will probably be a thing.
(( 1; District 2 Suites, before dawn ))
To say that Calendius rose with the sun would be an understatement. While he could be prone to bouts of sloth and profound lethargy, they rarely took when he had a project and District 2 was a project, to say the least. So no, there was no time to sleep in, no time to rise languidly, soak in the tub and abscond away to brunch with Apollonia, Adrastea, and her flavor of the month.
No, instead 6am found Calendius awake and in the District 2 kitchen, already preparing a savory (and conspicuously low-fat) breakfast for his beloved team. Perhaps this could serve as a peace offering of sorts. He could extend an olive branch. Or an olive egg white omelet with vegan cheese, as it were.
(( 2; Training Center, midday ))
In the gym, Cal focused as he never focused elsewhere. His precision was uncanny and actually, a little bit unnerving. IT was as if he was competing with some unknown, unseen, all powerful and all consuming force that could only be vanquished by one more rotation, one more spin session. He moves restlessly from machine to machine. He pumped iron, jumped rope, practiced yoga to warm up and cool down, and did lunges in between. Never did he appear to tire, or seem to do much more than break a sweat. Which was the point, of course.
At least it was an attractive sweat.
(( 3; Streets around the Capitol, evening ))
Watches could (and were) set by Calendius' evening jog. Everyday at 4:30pm, he left the front steps of the Tribute Center with his neon pink water bottle firmly in hand. By 4:37pm he was on the steps of the National Library. By 4:42pm, he had jogged passed the Speakeasy and was his way back home. The half hour gave him much needed time to relax and reflect on the day. The scenery of the Capitol, his beloved home, made for a pleasant background. In the half an hour of his job, Calendius came as close to zen as perhaps any living being could. It was truly an enlightening experience.
Or maybe that was the endorphin-high talking. It was cool either way.
What| 3 prompts
Where| District 2 Suite, Training Center, around the Capitol
When| Various points in the day. See the prompts please.
Warnings/Notes| Well. Cal is vapid as hell so that will probably be a thing.
(( 1; District 2 Suites, before dawn ))
To say that Calendius rose with the sun would be an understatement. While he could be prone to bouts of sloth and profound lethargy, they rarely took when he had a project and District 2 was a project, to say the least. So no, there was no time to sleep in, no time to rise languidly, soak in the tub and abscond away to brunch with Apollonia, Adrastea, and her flavor of the month.
No, instead 6am found Calendius awake and in the District 2 kitchen, already preparing a savory (and conspicuously low-fat) breakfast for his beloved team. Perhaps this could serve as a peace offering of sorts. He could extend an olive branch. Or an olive egg white omelet with vegan cheese, as it were.
(( 2; Training Center, midday ))
In the gym, Cal focused as he never focused elsewhere. His precision was uncanny and actually, a little bit unnerving. IT was as if he was competing with some unknown, unseen, all powerful and all consuming force that could only be vanquished by one more rotation, one more spin session. He moves restlessly from machine to machine. He pumped iron, jumped rope, practiced yoga to warm up and cool down, and did lunges in between. Never did he appear to tire, or seem to do much more than break a sweat. Which was the point, of course.
At least it was an attractive sweat.
(( 3; Streets around the Capitol, evening ))
Watches could (and were) set by Calendius' evening jog. Everyday at 4:30pm, he left the front steps of the Tribute Center with his neon pink water bottle firmly in hand. By 4:37pm he was on the steps of the National Library. By 4:42pm, he had jogged passed the Speakeasy and was his way back home. The half hour gave him much needed time to relax and reflect on the day. The scenery of the Capitol, his beloved home, made for a pleasant background. In the half an hour of his job, Calendius came as close to zen as perhaps any living being could. It was truly an enlightening experience.
Or maybe that was the endorphin-high talking. It was cool either way.