sleep over

[setfires]

Who| Cinna and limited OPEN
What| Cinna invites people to sleep over at his home.
Where| Cinna's little two bedroom apartment.
When| The first night after District 12 Suite's destruction.
Warnings/Notes| None yet.


Cinna still lived in the apartment he had grown up in. His mother had passed away and he had taken it over. It was safe compared to other places in the Capitol. He had a decent income as a Stylist, but he spent most of it paying off the debt that had gotten him through school and purchasing materials. His furniture and electronics were a little more modern, having been upgraded from the things his mother had had a few years ago, but it was mostly covered by fabric rolls and sketch books. It wasn't really a "mess" so much as cluttered with ideas, much like his mind could be at times.

The small apartment had two bedrooms, one that had been converted to a work room. The items that had originally been designated from the work room had spilled over into the rest of the apartment. There were sketches on the walls of each of the District 12 Tributes and a variety of designs he had in mind for them. There were pieces of fabric and little inventions that would help him bring life to his work.

When he opened the room for the Tributes he frowned a bit. "I'm sorry for the mess," he commented before moving some of the items into his work room to clear enough floor space for them to sleep. He cleared off the couch and managed to get the space to look half-way decent.

Once that was done he smiled at them all and offered to get something to drink.

Comments

[mudbloodhater]

"Well, it was in my room. They don't let me take it in. It's a weapon, they say." He rolled his eyes, but it was true. It was a weapon.

"Now..." Draco trailed off, shrugging, glancing aside almost sadly.

[setfires]

Cinna didn't like the sound of that at all. "We'll find it," he said. "If it's still there. We'll look for it." After a moment. "How fragile are they?"

[mudbloodhater]

"It's made of wood." And that ought to have said it all. Draco couldn't help the dejected tone that seeped into his voice.

[setfires]

"Well, fire may be attracted to wood but it's also a fickle thing. It doesn't just consume, it follows a path. It flickers and moves. There was an explosion, but the flames might not have reached your room," Cinna pointed out. "Don't give up hope until you know for sure."

[mudbloodhater]

He glanced up, letting that sink in though it didn't seem to make him feel much better. Not by the expression on his face. He looked more like a kicked puppy than anything else.

"It's horrid, how they just let that happen. That was where we lived," he said then, hiding some of his sadness in a frustrated snap.

[setfires]

"They didn't just let it happen, Draco. It was the Rebellion."

[mudbloodhater]

"It doesn't-" he sighed. "It doesn't matter who did it. It still happened. We still have to stay here with you if we want any modicum of comfort."

[setfires]

Cinna nodded then. "I'm happy to open my home to you for as long as you need, but I do wish that you wouldn't stress yourself out while you're here. Not over things we can't change."

[mudbloodhater]

He inhaled at that, running the words over in his head before letting go of the breath slowly. "Right. Sorry," Draco murmured, nodding. He would still fret over it, he knew, but now he would simply keep his mouth shut about it.

ugh. what is with the typos? that should be do not wish. clearly.

[setfires]

Cinna put a reassuring hand on Draco's shoulder. "I'll do what I can to make sure you're okay. You know that don't you?" He wished he could do more for the boy, but he had his own restrictions.

/snugs

[mudbloodhater]

Draco nodded his acknowledgement. He wasn't used to accepting help from anyone; he wasn't used to needing help from anyone. Everything he'd done in the past, he'd done on his own, or at least tried to. Certainly, his mission wasn't going flawlessly, but it wasn't that bad-

He nodded again, "I know. That's why I'm here, isn't it? And not back at the tower?"

[setfires]

"I'm glad that you are, and that I could offer this to you," Cinna said, smiling a bit. He wanted to give Draco more, but he couldn't. Not with his position, and not while the Capitol was still in power.

[mudbloodhater]

A small smile. He appreciated it, strangely enough; it was still beyond weird that anyone was trying to help that way, absolutely unconditional - or so it seemed, at least - but Draco was done questioning it. It wasn't as though he didn't deserve some special treatment every now and then, after all.

Opening his mouth, the blond found that he wasn't actually sure what he ought to say in return to that, and closed it again. Failing at finding words was a problem he'd been dealing with more and more since he arrived, and if asked, he would simply explain it as the shock of being somewhere new. Finally, he tried a different topic: "How long have you been doing all this for?"

[setfires]

"Been doing what?" Cinna asked. "Styling Tributes?" He wasn't exactly sure what it was that Draco was questioning.

[mudbloodhater]

"Yeah," he confirmed casually, evidently feeling at ease enough with his District to relax his formal speech patterns a bit more. "You can't have just walked into it one day last month or something." Though he knew quite well Cinna had been there longer than that. He just didn't know how long.

[setfires]

"I've been a designer and Stylist all of my life, but Katniss was the first Tribute I worked with for the Games," Cinna explained. "The 74th Hunger Games was my first." He had been that bright, upcoming star, but his agenda had always been more than just getting his designs attention.

[mudbloodhater]

"Really? That wasn't that long ago. What did you do before that?" He asked, curious.

[setfires]

"You have to make a name for yourself before you can work for the Games. I was a designer."

[mudbloodhater]

Draco merely shrugged, making a face as though that made sense, in a way. Couldn't just start from nothing, really. "But for what?"