The Signless (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
69problems) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2015-03-27 12:38 am
69problems) wrote in thecapitol2015-03-27 12:38 am
Entry tags:
paint-by-number morning sky [semi-open!]
Who| Signless and Tony, Signless and the D12 tributes, Signless and YOU!
What| Taking care of business, then taking care of pets.
Where| D12, then the lobby.
When| Now (after the arena, before the crowning).
Warnings/Notes| Nothing I can think of, will add if something comes up.
A. For Tony
Remembering the whirlwind of interviews and speculation and internal conflict he had to deal with after winning, the Signless has left Tony more or less alone since the end of the arena. There's only so long he can put off talking to Twelve's new victor, however, and he feels it's reasonable to want to be on the same page since they're going to be working together. It won't do their tributes any good if they're working hard but working at cross purposes.
With that in mind he stands outside of Tony's door and gives a brief, polite knock.
"Tony? I'd like to speak with you, if you don't mind."
B. For All D12 Tributes
Just as important as keeping on the same page as his co-mentor is keeping up to date with his tributes. In his opinion he'll be best-equipped to help them if he hears from them what it is that they most need. On top of that he wants to get to know all of them better. Twelve is many things and especially right now it's a mixed bag of very different people with very different skills who need very different marketing to make sure they get as much help in the arenas as it's possible for him to secure. Perhaps it's not the most efficient way of doing things but he wants to be sure everyone is being presented to sponsors in a way that they're, if not happy with, at least not vehemently opposed to.
Each of them will receive a brief, friendly note on their door asking to meet in the suite common room at an appointed time for a brief check-in. He parks himself on the couch with a notebook, a pen, and a decidedly non-alcoholic drink, and waits.
C. Open!
It hadn't been as much of a surprise as it might have been when after his crowning he was presented with the small crablike creature the Capitol had billed as a 'mutantblood lusus'. He remembers very well Maximus and his pet tiger. No, the problem with his new pet isn't so much that he hadn't been expecting it and more that it has absolutely no manners. He's discovered that with the exception of himself and Karkat it's distrustful of people at best and attempts to eat their ankles at worst. 'Worst' happens to be its default.
Naturally the solution is taking it down into the lobby of the tower (on a short leash, of course) and attempting to get it used to people. It skitters around his legs, clacking its claws and blinking its four white eyes suspiciously at anyone who gets too close. When it's not making agitated chirping sounds or screeching in alarm at a Capitolite's oh-so-scary shiny accessories it's emitting a low, constant and very uneasy hiss.
"Sorry," he says, nudging it with his foot away from the person it's most recently decided is its mortal enemy. "I'm trying to teach him to be a little more personable and it's not going well."
What| Taking care of business, then taking care of pets.
Where| D12, then the lobby.
When| Now (after the arena, before the crowning).
Warnings/Notes| Nothing I can think of, will add if something comes up.
A. For Tony
Remembering the whirlwind of interviews and speculation and internal conflict he had to deal with after winning, the Signless has left Tony more or less alone since the end of the arena. There's only so long he can put off talking to Twelve's new victor, however, and he feels it's reasonable to want to be on the same page since they're going to be working together. It won't do their tributes any good if they're working hard but working at cross purposes.
With that in mind he stands outside of Tony's door and gives a brief, polite knock.
"Tony? I'd like to speak with you, if you don't mind."
B. For All D12 Tributes
Just as important as keeping on the same page as his co-mentor is keeping up to date with his tributes. In his opinion he'll be best-equipped to help them if he hears from them what it is that they most need. On top of that he wants to get to know all of them better. Twelve is many things and especially right now it's a mixed bag of very different people with very different skills who need very different marketing to make sure they get as much help in the arenas as it's possible for him to secure. Perhaps it's not the most efficient way of doing things but he wants to be sure everyone is being presented to sponsors in a way that they're, if not happy with, at least not vehemently opposed to.
Each of them will receive a brief, friendly note on their door asking to meet in the suite common room at an appointed time for a brief check-in. He parks himself on the couch with a notebook, a pen, and a decidedly non-alcoholic drink, and waits.
C. Open!
It hadn't been as much of a surprise as it might have been when after his crowning he was presented with the small crablike creature the Capitol had billed as a 'mutantblood lusus'. He remembers very well Maximus and his pet tiger. No, the problem with his new pet isn't so much that he hadn't been expecting it and more that it has absolutely no manners. He's discovered that with the exception of himself and Karkat it's distrustful of people at best and attempts to eat their ankles at worst. 'Worst' happens to be its default.
Naturally the solution is taking it down into the lobby of the tower (on a short leash, of course) and attempting to get it used to people. It skitters around his legs, clacking its claws and blinking its four white eyes suspiciously at anyone who gets too close. When it's not making agitated chirping sounds or screeching in alarm at a Capitolite's oh-so-scary shiny accessories it's emitting a low, constant and very uneasy hiss.
"Sorry," he says, nudging it with his foot away from the person it's most recently decided is its mortal enemy. "I'm trying to teach him to be a little more personable and it's not going well."
no subject
"Do they? I've only ever seen Panem bananas." There was a similar sort of fruit on Alternia -- similar, but not in any way the same.
"I'm sorry. I'm probably not going about this entirely right." He offers Bayard a slightly sheepish smile. He doesn't see any reason to pretend he's more confident than he is -- and in his experience most children are perceptive enough to know when adults are bullshitting them on that front.
no subject
He doesn't match Signless's smile with one of his own, which would be condescending, he thinks, but instead a completely blank look of consternation, as if Signless has done nothing whatsoever worth apologizing for. "Going about what right, sir?"
no subject
Maybe it's less important to help Bayard naturalize -- that will come with time, he knows. Maybe it's more important to focus on helping him keep that part of himself that is not at all of Panem and never will be.
"Here. Let me ask you this instead: how do you want the people of Panem to know you? That is, what impression do you want to give them? What about yourself do you want to be sure they have right? Part of my job is to communicate those things to people who can help you stay alive. I want to be sure you have a say in what I tell them."
no subject
"I reckon I'd like to be someone to Panem worth knowing, before they actually know me honestly." Bayard bites his lip and curls his hand around his chin, having not thought of this before and as such having no quick and easy answer to the question. "I'd like them to think of me a good man, but I'd also like to be a good man. Does that make sense, Mr. Signless."
no subject
"It does, yes."
Something about the way Bayard phrased that catches in his mind. He isn't sure if it's overstepping his bounds to ask, but...
"Do you think you aren't a good man now?"
no subject
Bayard's face contorts a bit as he tries to put words to what feels like a concept a little difficult for him, a sort of abstract that's beyond what a twelve year-old can fit into their head. He drinks from his mug and watches Signless' face for some evidence that he's being clear.
aaaaand this seems almost like a decent place to end it unless you wanted more
"Well-put. I think so long as you keep what you just said in mind, you'll do fine."