Staffer's Retreat

[whatisay]

WHO| Every Escort, Stylist and Mentor. Any Capitolites or Peacekeepers who might have reason to oversee or visit.
WHAT| A professional retreat for the overworked, underpaid, and super underappreciated Tribute Care Teams.
WHERE| A chalet in District One, easily accessible by train.
WHEN| Before the next death roll.
WARNINGS| Typical Capitolites being entitled asshats.
NOTES| I've put up some subthreads for various activities, if you want to add more just do so under the appropriate day subheader!

Staffer's Retreat. Mandatory. The teams for each District are given a handful of days to prepare for the weekend, which, they're told, is going to be scheduled for a weekend with no big shake-ups in the Arena and perfect weather for outdoor activities. On Friday morning, they're taken by train to a small chalet tucked into a mountainside. A few inches of snow covers the ground but the sky is clear, reflected in the beautiful lake at the base of the mountain.

Until Sunday evening, their days will be packed with "professional development". The schedule looks something like this:

Friday:
Icebreakers
Trust Falls
Hypothetical Scenarios: How to Be the First Person Chosen for a Bomb Shelter
Three-Legged Race
Self-Care Hour: Mandatory Yoga
Dinner
Breaking Down Stereotypes Workshop

Saturday:
Mandatory Mentor Group Therapy: PTSD is Not An Excuse
Mandatory Escort/Stylist Workshop: Building Trust with Your Tributes
Mandatory Sexual Harassment Training: Focus on Tribute/Mentor and Tribute/Escort Relationships
Lunch
Capture-the-Flag
Group Lego-Building
Dinner
12am Karaoke

Sunday:
5:30am Continental Breakfast
Compliment Circle
Journal Hour
Farewells

Comments

KARAOKE

[whatisay]

A ballroom is outfitted with a karaoke machine with a bevy of hits from before the days of Panem. Alcohol is flowing freely and the music is loud. The machine randomly selects people it instructs to sing if they're not participating enough.

[Mingle threads.]

Never leave a microphone unattended around this queen!

[cherrypicked]

When Lady Cerise spies the Karaoke machine, she wastes no time in getting herself over to it and queuing up songs to sing to. If there's one thing her younger years in the theatre days have taught her, it's how to belt one out.

Now she's hardly an amazing talent, but the bucket she keeps her notes in is sturdy and lyrical.

At any moment she'll pull someone up to sing with her, more interesting in the fun of singing with people than wanting to actually harmonise, always ready with a compliment after the song no matter who's with her.

"Well aren't you ever such the note hitter?"

Though really, the sincerity of her words does depend on her current partners actual ability.

[perfectus]

He hadn't been expecting it when she'd dragged him onto the stage. Not exactly, anyway. Ever the social butterfly, Cal had chosen a spot near the front where he could applaud enthusiastically anybody who dared perform for their colleagues (all in the name of promoting a positive and fun work environment, of course), but he'd been perfectly content to do just that.

That said, he's not mad when it happens, more bemused by the ridiculousness of it all. His own voice, when he picks up the rhythm enough to croon along with her, isn't terrible at all. He's on pitch and there's a certain broad, richness to his baritone that's probably a little unexpected considering just how shallowly he chooses to present himself. His diction, however, is awful. Unequivocally awful. Literally every word blends into the next and all the consonants are slushy and soft.

"Thanks!" He chirps cheerfully once the music starts to die down. The sharp, staccato sound is a harsh contrast to his singing voice. "Adrastea always told me I should do more with music, but it's just a hobby."

Sorry I'm so late with this! If you don't want to reply that's fine!

[cherrypicked]

She fans herself a little dramatically from the excitement of the singing with a great big smile on her face.

"Well if it's just a hobby, probably think about indulging in it a little more. It was rather quite fun to sing with you."

She pats his arm playfully before brushing away at imagined lint on her dress before looking at him with something of a critical eye.

"Though you might want to practice with a cork now and then. Unless you want to start a trend with letting every verse sound like a whole long and very strange word, of course."

As critical as her words are he tone sounds more like a nagging mother or aunt than someone who is giving any real critique of the younger man.

Linden Lockhearst

[dead_black_eyes]

Anyone who knows Linden at all knows that when alcohol is flowing freely, the District 6 mentor can't be trusted to maintain the standard of professionalism and comportment expected of staff. He struggles with that even when he's sober, actually, and with even just a little bit of encouragement and goading, he is glaring, setting aside his harsh straight liquor, and taking up the microphone. Some people are holding their breath, but others, bless their hearts, have no idea what's coming.

"I'd like," he says, words slurring slightly, "to sing a little drinking song I learned some years ago." Presumably in District 6. "It's all about someone we all know."

He speaks up, and he has a good, strong singing voice. Despite this, someone who cares about him might want to tackle him before he finishes the rollicking verse.

"FRIENDS AND ACQUAINTANCES, LEND ME AN EAR
FILL UP YOUR TANKARDS WITH PLENTY OF BEER,
IF PRESIDENT SNOW COMES I'LL BUY HIM A GLASS,
AND TELL HIM HIS FACE LOOKS LIKE A GREYHOUND'S--"

[bravelyplucked]

"Very nice, Linden." Torin's just glad Linden is scrawny enough that even with one arm, the other Mentor should be easy enough to drag away. And sure, his suddenly rushing onto the stage and trying to drag Linden away might be considered rude, but this is just a little more important than manners. "Such a shame your turn is over now..."

He's just hoping he doesn't have to fall on his sword and say it's his turn now, really.

[dead_black_eyes]

Despite his inebriation, Linden's eyes are hard and sharp; it's likely that he knows better than everyone is giving him credit for what he's doing, but that doesn't change the fact that it's desperately foolish. Linden's behaved in a suicidally audacious manner at various points in the past, but that's what the Capitol as a whole gets for setting him down a track highly conducive to breeding addiction and then letting him near an open bar.

Deafening feedback interrupts the final word of Linden's verse, and he staggers as the older and better-conditioned District 2 Mentor drags him away from the podium. "Over? I've just begun, and everyone was so insistent..." he protests mildly, wavering in an attempt to dig in a bony heel in a misguided and largely failed attempt to steady himself. Then an idea flashes across his pale face, and he's planting the microphone firmly into Torin's chest. "A duet!" he announces, a manic quality to his alcohol-fueled, temporary delight. "If you want in on this, you have to help me finish the song."

[bravelyplucked]

Torin groans. He'd so far escaped having to get up on the stage and sing, but now it seems inescapable. At least he's got a good singing voice, even if he's far too sober for this. "It'll have to be a different song--I don't know the words to that one."

Maybe he can at least avoid any trouble...

[dead_black_eyes]

Torin is far too sober for this, especially in comparison to the very sloppy-drunk Linden, who has seemed to welcome Torin's grasp rather than attempt to evade it or slough it off. He twines an arm around the small of the older Mentor's in the most convenient possible embrace he can give him, shoving the microphone in his face and holding it steady for him, close to his mouth.

"I can improvise. Make it up on the spot if I have to. Sing what you want."

[bravelyplucked]

This is what he gets from trying to save you from a painful punishment of some sort, Linden? Really? There's a resigned sigh. "Fine."

Torin starts singing a fairly inoffensive popular song from District 2. Despite his obvious reluctance to sing, it's actually something he's talented at, and he has a nice voice. The song he sings is just a song about cutting stone, but it involves pickaxes and chisels and lots of things a really determined drunk man could turn into innuendo if he tried hard enough.

[dead_black_eyes]

Well, no one ever said that being Linden's friend, protector or possible father-figure would be instantly rewarding. The younger Mentor latches onto the song eagerly, singing backup for Torin and throwing in some ad-libbed innuendos and made-up lyrics of his own. The apparent camaraderie seems to be enough, for the moment, to distract him from the song he'd been singing before, as well as any dissatisfaction or anger he was feeling prior to it.

[sergius]

Sergius is a great singer!

Okay, great might be overselling it a bit. But he can carry a tune at the very least. He manages to keep the melodramatic love(?) song mostly on point, only veering off on occasion, to add dramatic flare to the number when necessary.

"It's like over and over you're pushing me
Right down to the floor
I should just walk away
Over and over I keep on coming back for more
I play into your fantasy."

Once his turn in the spotlight is up, he grins and waits for some applause. He's not leaving the stage until he gets some.

[lionhearted_victor]

Holy crap what the hell did Cora just hear? The urge to make a snipe at Sergius crooning to Val was stifled, it was too easy and Valerius was terrifying when mad. So today everyone learned that Sergius Romulus could sing. Huh. He clapped, and remarked,

"At least you don't sound like a dying animal." Keep making friends, Leo. He does offer Ser a bottle of water.

[sergius]

Cue the dramatic bowing as he soaks in the attention. Grinning snidely, he sinks into his seat across from Leo. "What can I say? I have a gift and that gift demands to be shared."

[lionhearted_victor]

"You might need more practice if you're going to become Capitol's new Idol," the coach rolled his eyes, "That and a better agent than Valerius. You'll be stuck doing old-world songs."

[sergius]

"It's a good thing they don't let District Two nobodies vote," he said with a snide little laugh. "Because you're clearly a moron with no ear for raw talent. I, my friend, am the real deal."

[lionhearted_victor]

"And I thought I had an ego," Leo laughed along. He had a huge ego, especially with his size, okay? "Fine so you can hold a tune, you're nothing like some of the previous winners. Maybe next year you'll get lucky."

[asmilinggod]

You never, ever have to coax this man to get in front of a microphone.

Most surprisingly, the blonde, grinning, terrifying man can actually carry a tune - he stands easily in front of his audience, swaying a little bit in time with his notes. He gestures as he sings with his red-stained hands, occasionally locking eyes (eyes? voids?) with some poor soul in the crowd for effect.

Not surprisingly, the song he has selected is...embarrassing.

"We must all efficiently
Operationalize our strategies
Invest in world-class technology
And leverage our core competencies
In order to holistically administrate
Exceptional synergy!
We'll set a brand trajectory
Using management's philosophy
Advance our market share vis-à-vis
Our proven methodology...
With strong commitment to quality
Effectively enhancing corporate synergy..."

[whatisay]

Oh, the hell with that. Jason, sober as a patch of dry earth, trying to avoid getting one of his famous and debilitating headaches, and bored out of his skull, gets up from his stool rather suddenly and strides over.

He walks up to the karaoke machine and unplugs it, cutting Kevin off right in the middle of a lyric, and then goes and sits back down, nursing a cup of seltzer water and stirring the ice cubes in it with the stem of a cherry.

Emily Finch

[conifer]

Emily isn't the best singer in the world, but she can carry a tune. Her voice is soft and sweet, though very shaky with nerves. She sings a song of her District; in truth a song even older than her District, one that had been passed down through the lumber workers in that area for centuries.

Come, all young men a-wanting of courage bold undaunted,
Repair unto the shanties before your youth’s decline,
For spectators they will ponder and gaze on you with wonder,
For your noise exceeds the thunder in the falling of the pine.

The shanty is our station and lumbering our occupation,
Where each man has his station, some for to score and line,
It is nine foot of a block we will bust at every knock,
And the wolves and bears we’ll shock at the falling of the pine.

When the day it is a-breaking from our slumbers we’re awakened,
Breakfast being over, our axes we will grind,
Into the woods we do advance where our axes sharp do glance,
And like brothers we commence for to fall the stately pine.

For it’s to our work we go through the cold and stormy snow,
And it’s there we labor gayly till bright Phoebus does not shine;
Then to the shanties we’ll go in and songs of love we’ll sing,
And we’ll make the valleys ring at the falling of the pine.

When the weather it grows colder, like lions we’re more bolder,
And while this forms grief for others, it’s but the least of mine,
For the frost and snow so keen, it can never keep us in,
It can never keep us in from the falling of the pine.

When the snow is all diminished and our shanty work all finished,
Banished we are all for a little time,
And then far apart we’re scattered until the booms are gathered,
Until the booms are gathered into handsome rafts of pine.

When we get to Quebec, oh, me boys, we’ll not forget,
And our whistles we will wet with some brandy and good wine;
With fair maidens we will boast till our money is all used,
And, my boys, we’ll ne’er refuse to go back and fall the pine.

[contrarianlibrarian]

There's soft applause after she finishes. China was about to attempt to slip away before she could be asked to participate, but she stayed to listen to this song.

"My, that was lovely." And she means it. There's something charmingly rustic about the lyrics and someone who can actually sing is welcome after some of the other performances China's heard. "Where did you learn that song?"

[ooc: Apologies for the late tag--I can delete if it's a problem.]

[conifer]

Emily looks genuinely surprised that her contribution had been appreciated, especially as she'd struggled to remember some of the words; it was one of those songs that changed depending on who was singing it, different families and settlements in Seven having grown up with slightly different versions. It's also a little surreal being in the spotlight for something that was truly important to herself and her heritage rather than the more manufactured image that had been devised for her as a Tribute and eventual Victor.

"Thank you. It's from my district. One of the songs we sing when we're heading to work in the forests."

[ooc: never too late! c: ]

[contrarianlibrarian]

"District 7, that would be?" She's new, but she made sure to at least know the basics about her colleagues. It would probably be harder not to know, considering the coverage of everything surrounding the Games.

She can't imagine singing on her way to work, even if she does love it. Her library at least. "Fascinating. There are more of these? Have you considered recording them?"

Information is information. Who knew when the next district would shuffle off the mortal coil?

[ooc: Thanks!]

[conifer]

Emily nods proudly, though with the mention of working in the forest it wouldn't really have taken much to guess her District. She loves being able to share those little snippets of the culture of Seven with anyone who cared to listen, especially as there's a part of her that's terrified it will end up like Three.

"Oh no, I couldn't. I'm not that good. But someone should." It was important to her that the history of the Districts lived on even if the Capitol could eradicate them.

[contrarianlibrarian]

China idly wonders if the modesty is feigned or genuine. One learns to expect the former in the Capitol, but these District people can be unexpectedly real. It's just bizarre. "Nonsense. You can say it adds to the rustic charm."

She cants her head to one side, "Really, now, can you imagine what would happen to it if you left it to a Capitol singer?"