[Open]

[conifer]

Who| Emily and YOU
What| There's a new mentor in town
Where| Various locations in the Training Centre
When| A few days after the end of Arena 12
Warnings/Notes| No warnings inherent. Prose and brackets both welcome.


a) District 7 suite - mostly for D7, but feel free to crash the pancake party otherwise

Every available surface of the common room is covered in silver platters laden with pancakes, along with various fruits, nuts, sauces and syrups to top them with. In pride of place are several large jugs of maple syrup, one of District 7's main exports, and Em might get a little offended if her tributes eschew it entirely. She'll give a reserved, polite smile to anyone who walks in, mentally sizing them up and trying to figure out if they have any chance in the Arena at all.

"Hello, there. I'm your new mentor."


b) Training Centre - open to all

She's positioned herself near the survival station - campfires, ropes, plants of all sorts - a place that's not nearly so popular as throwing around a sword or axe, but the one where she feels most qualified to give advice. She'll happily talk to any tribute that comes in to train, whether they belong to her district or not: as much as she wants to guarantee a District 7 win, she's not going to put the other tributes at a disadvantage before they've even got into the Arena. She's had enough of that duplicity for one lifetime.


c) Rooftop - closed to Jason Compson

Even out in the districts, Compson is a name that brings recognition, but only vaguely so far as Emily's own knowledge goes. She's fairly sure that he used to be the escort for District 10 - Calder's district, she thinks with the twinge of bitterness and shame that always runs through her thinking of him - and that makes her feel even more nervous about meeting with him. She tries to push it aside, to assume her usual mask, knowing that they'll be working together now, and that both of them surely have the interests of their tributes at heart.

She rises on hearing footsteps approaching the bench she's seated on in the rooftop gardens, offering a hand for him to shake, if he so chooses.

Comments

[whatisay]

Jason isn't watching her face, so he doesn't notice the pity, and all the better for it - he likely would have taken it as an insult, as reproach to the fragile pride he so viciously defends. He's watching the sky, the lazy trails of birds coagulating into a flock and then scattering again.

"It's an underrated thing, providing for people. There's not enough thanks for it." He thinks of his paycheck, draining each month into his mother's account. He thinks of the money she spends on snake oils, on servants to keep Benjy occupied. He thinks of that money and he imagines it as some great tendriled vine trapping his feet and locking him forever into this city, this life.

[conifer]

She supposed that here in the Capitol, where everyone already had everything, people didn't appreciate the help others gave them. But her own family and the people of her district thanked her every day, treated her almost as some sort of hero for sharing her bounty with them. She didn't feel like a hero, just a coward who'd been trying to save her own skin.

"Overrated, where I come from. But necessary."

[whatisay]

"You don't get any thanks here, at least not anymore that's necessary to slip the money out of your pocket and into theirs." Jason sighs and it actually sounds genuine, exhausted, as if he's been hollowed and burned out not from the difficulty of the work but simply from the fact that there's no end in sight. All the years of future drudgery have already taxed him; his hopelessness tired him out more than any work hours could.

"And don't expect any thanks from the Tributes either, like I say. If you're all tired out of being overrated, these charges will fix you up pretty quickly."

[conifer]

"It sounds refreshing." Among many other things. She felt very daunted, and less eager to meet her new batch of Tributes by the minute. It sounded like the very opposite of her previous mentoring experience, filled mostly with tributes who'd hung off of every word of advice she could give them, knowing the dire consequences for both themselves and their District should they fall in the Arena.

[whatisay]

"The way you say it, I'd expect that they were parading you around on a palanquin." He checks his watch, the one engraved with a forefather Jason Compson's name. "I've got to get running. I have a meeting with a potential Sponsor to suffer through. He wants Beth Greene for diet pills."

He gets up. "Glad I'm not alone on this team anymore."

[conifer]

That's only a bit of an exaggeration, and something she could easily envision the poorest in Eleven or Twelve doing with their Victors. But she doesn't think making a point about that right now will win her any points, plus she's wary about the Capitol watching both of them.

She stands when he does, looking fairly satisfied with how this introduction has gone, confident that she can count on him as an Escort. "You're certainly not. And please do come to me if there are any problems, or anything you need of me."

[whatisay]

"Naturally." And he will. The few weeks he's been doing this solo have already taken their toll on him. He's eager to let someone else shoulder a little bit of the burden.

With that same graceless, purposeful gait, he heads back inside.