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

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.

[bravelyplucked]

At least the ad-libbing isn't something that could be considered politically subversive. Torin will take what he can get, and he keeps innocently singing away. If this has turned into a comedy act, then he'll play the straight man.

[dead_black_eyes]

Linden's manic tonight, but it definitely seems like the type of flare that can be contained, or at least channeled in a productive direction. When they finish the song, he's significantly more intoxicated than he was when they started, likely the effects of the shot of liquor he had right before going onstage, and he wavers where he stands. He probably won't pitch off the edge of the stage when he takes a bow, but then again, his balance isn't spectacular when he's this drunk.

[bravelyplucked]

Torin's not really bothering with a bow; he's more focused on getting off the stage. And if it looks like Linden's going to fall, well, he's just going to reach out with his good arm and grab the other man's collar, hoping to prevent an accident.

[dead_black_eyes]

Just when Linden thinks that his center of balance is off, it's unfortunately too late for him to do anything about it in his inebriated state. Luckily, Torin's reactions are faster, and he manages to grab him in time before he topples off into the scattered, waning applause.

"...hey, thanks, I almost took a spill," he says unnecessarily, straightening and brushing off his jacket, blinking like he still can't quite wrap his head around what nearly happened.

"Kind of nice, to be saved by someone in District 2, for a change..."

[bravelyplucked]

"Glad I could help." It occurs to Torin that an incident like this is not unlike that stupid trust fall they'd had to go through when they got here. At least this one wasn't staged. "There's always a first time for everything, I suppose...are you all right?"

[dead_black_eyes]

Though Linden is sloppy-drunk and too dazed to give it a lot of attentive and keen thought, Torin's words sound genuine enough. He takes them happily at face-value, and as with their first meeting, it is wonderful that Torin is himself, and not some opportunistic Capitolite who views Linden as an easy conquest.

"I'm OK. You're a good singer," he comments, draping an arm over Torin's shoulders and leaning against him for support, with little regard to the other man's personal space. "I didn't know. Were you always? Did you learn in District 2?"

[bravelyplucked]

Torin continues firmly but gently guiding Linden away from the stage and the spotlight and anything else he can use to accidentally hurt himself. He'll worry about personal space later. "I don't know that I ever learned," Torin admitted, "but I've always just had a good ear for it."

[dead_black_eyes]

Linden seems to have no idea what he's doing; forget whether or not it's appropriate, because he's having a lovely time and has found someone warm and strong to flank him for the moment. He follows without any resistance or fuss, even if his feet drag unevenly and he seems to struggle to maintain his balance even with Torin's help.

"Me too," he laughs breathlessly. "Me too. Hey, I'm going to get another drink, OK? Do you want anything?"

[bravelyplucked]

Torin's still not letting Linden go, though he'll at least help the other man walk towards the drink table. "I don't need anything, thanks." And it's worth a try, but... "You should probably get water, you know." It's a concerned, gentle tone, and it's not like Torin's actively dragging Linden away from the drinks.

[dead_black_eyes]

The help appears to be something he needs; the way he weaves and wavers on their way to the alcohol table says as much. "Nothing at all? It's no fun drinking alone... I'd know. I do it all the time," he laughs, reaching for a bottle of something that marks a point of no return for the evening. If he drinks this, he'll be sick tonight, and hungover all day tomorrow.

"Water? You sound like Stephen," he chortles. "I'm fine, Torin. People always want to stop me just when I start having fun."

[bravelyplucked]

"There's fun, and then there's hurting yourself." Torin privately thinks that sounding like Stephen isn't a bad thing here. "I'll just have a little bit of juice and club soda, myself." It's not a bad drink to have if one wants to make it look like one's got something more fun in that glass.

[dead_black_eyes]

Linden looks briefly stricken, as though the uncomfortable truth of Torin's observation has cut him to the quick. He seems torn as he pours his liquor, but there's less of it in his cup than there might have been if Torin had said nothing, and he waters it down... behavior that's practically unheard of for Linden.

[bravelyplucked]

If Torin notices that stricken look, he doesn't react. It's not his style to relentlessly press in for the attack; this blow struck its mark, and Torin will give the other a bit of time to deal with that.

He nods in approval when Linden waters down that drink. Baby steps. Progress.

[dead_black_eyes]

He's certainly planted a seed of unease, that's for sure. Linden's quiet as he sips his drink; it represents an escape, but something else too, something demeaning and shameful. In the Capitol, where so many indulge to varying degrees in excess, it slides under the radar so often, but in the company of individuals like Torin it actually feels like disgusting behavior.

"Right, your juice and club soda..."

He sets aside his glass, taking it upon himself to mix Torin's drink. His hands aren't particularly strong or steady, but Linden's comfortable mixing drinks; he's certainly spent enough time in his life doing it.

[bravelyplucked]

Torin was going to make his own drink, but if Linden's busy making a drink, then Linden's not really able to drink his own drink. Torin will gladly let the other man do this and give him a nod of thanks. "I'm not too picky, but I'm sure you'll do a better job of it than I would."

[dead_black_eyes]

Linden's hands are steady and sure as he goes through the set of well-practiced motions, acknowledging Torin's nod with one of his own. "Not a better job, necessarily, but... perhaps an easier one. With your arm that way, you probably get a lot of offers for help, so let me know if I ever overstep my bounds."

[bravelyplucked]

There's a rueful smile at that. "I don't think you will. You seem to understand that it doesn't mean I'm completely helpless." Usually, that was how the Capitol rolled. Either they thought Torin was totally helpless, or they completely failed to make allowances and just made things awkward for everyone.

[dead_black_eyes]

"No," he's quick to respond, putting the finishing touch on the drink; a cherry garnish, because they are there, and he likes the way the color and shape sit so pleasantly and promisingly on top of ice. He's conditioned to find the sight very comforting.

"You're not. I don't think that at all. You're actually one of the more capable Mentors."