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

[69problems]

"The one I killed is long gone, either home or dead," he says, which is only half-true. But the Psiioniic in the arena now is not the Helmsman he killed then, and it would be unfair to treat them like the same person when they're from such vastly different points on the timeline.

"The other I have made peace with. It was a better bandage for the wound than just time, and I've found no good in holding grudges."

[confidentially]

As the discussion wages and heats, Jessica finds it difficult to sit still. These memories are ones she can't stand to touch. She hates to think of herself as she was in the Arena: dirty, desperate, and afraid. There's something appalling about admitting that it was her in that arena, that she was the one who'd manipulated... no fucked with those other kids to the point that they were all dead and she was left a broken, empty whore of a woman. Thinking about it sucked. It made her want to stop teetering and instead dive straight off a ledge.

"I can't do this. I need to leave."

[burnedbrighter]

"Stop." Azula hears herself saying before she actually thinks about it. Her gaze is set on Jessica now and she wonders just why she's about to try and convince Jessica to stay. Why even keep the attention when all she wants to do is drink herself into a nap after her own confession.

"You can do this. And you should do this. After all what's the point of being here at all if we don't make an effort? It's not as if we haven't all seen the tapes before." There were few secrets among them when it came to life in the arena.

[confidentially]

Jessica turns back quickly, expression as blank as it's ever been in her whole life. "What's the point in being here at all? They've taken everything else from me. They're not going to pry open another wound. Not today. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need a damned drink."