69problems: <user name="roachpatrol" site="tumblr.com"> (xtra | To find my way back in this life)
The Signless ([personal profile] 69problems) wrote in [community profile] thecapitol2015-06-07 12:03 am

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Who| Signless and Beck | Signless and OPEN
What| Signless has a chat with the new D12 stylist and does his best to stay occupied.
Where| Around the Tower
When| Arena Week 2
Warnings/Notes| None I can think of!

A. For Beck | D12 Stylist Area
Stylists are, admittedly, not Signless's favorite part of the Tower staff. He doesn't like being fussed over and prodded and put in outfits that are more impractical than they are comfortable. It's incredible how much he misses Cinna and Cinna's understated style, even if the stylists that have been looking after Twelve since Cinna left have been giving him increasingly more and more freedom in what he wears. There are some perks to seniority, he supposes.

It's therefore with only a little trepidation that he steps into the domain of Twelve's new stylist, an as-yet mostly unknown entity to him. When she introduced herself over the network he was still steadfastly ignoring his communicator and so he has no idea what to expect from her. These tattoos aren't going to update themselves, though, and she's the best place to start.

"Miss Scordato? May I come in, or are you busy?"

B. OPEN | Tower Commons
A new rack of Celebrus is always something to at the very least take a glance at. Most of the time Signless just hopes he and those he considers his have been overlooked, but it seems this time he hasn't escaped a mention. Frankly he's surprised there wasn't more of a focus on him given his connection with the Initiate, but he's grateful that connection wasn't mentioned or, god forbid, the focus of a whole tragic chunk of an article.

No, they chose to talk instead about the time he thought providing a mercy kill as someone who'd never killed before was a good idea. They chose instead to focus on a relationship with the Psiioniic he doesn't actually have (wrong quadrant, still very much up in the air) instead of the relationship he does have and has had for months. It's not really that bad but he knows his small but dedicated group of fans are going to have a field day about what they see as confirmation of their 'ship'. Panem humans are weird.

"At least cloaks are finally in fashion," he mumbles to himself, flipping idly through the pages.

C. OPEN | Around the Tower
If there's one thing Signless has noticed about Capitol fashion, it's that male humans seem to wear an awful lot of dresses. He may be somewhat biased by the large amount of drag queens on staff, but he still feels as though that might be something he should get in on. And why not? Leggings are 'feminine' clothes (apparently?) and those are perfectly serviceable and comfortable. The right dress should follow the same principle -- and, furthermore, should show the Capitol that he's making an effort to adapt to their norms and lifestyle.

Alright. So it's possibly a little flawed, as plans go, even if it comes from a good place. It doesn't stop him from talking with Beck, and it doesn't stop Beck from making the dress or setting him loose on the Tribute Tower with it on. As expected, the dress itself is quite comfortable -- he asked for one that wasn't restrictive and that showed off the floral tattoos on his arms, and that's exactly what he got. He doesn't even mind the makeup, simple black eyeliner and red lipstick; it's no worse than any of the other makeup he's been put in and for once it actually suits him. No, the real problem is the heels.

Signless doesn't like shoes at the best of times. He's worn heels all of once, a pair of low chunky blue things that were part of his disguise during the first jailbreak. These heels -- bright red, fairly tall, strappy -- are an entirely different beast. When he's not wobbling around like a baby giraffe he can be found sitting on the nearest flat surface giving his feet a break.
talltaleteller: (Flowery)

C

[personal profile] talltaleteller 2015-06-07 06:36 am (UTC)(link)
Another afternoon, another trip out to the Tribute center with the vague excuse of checking up on her Uncle Torin. It wasn't a lie! Felicity did want to make sure that things were coming along okay for him for this arena! The last one had some stuff that hadn't been good for his oldschool Victor nerves. If this one suddenly did, too, well, she'd be there. If it meant that she'd also be there to stare at celebrities and soak up the atmosphere, well, that was the benefit of being such a dedicated niece.

She was mostly spending her time with her notebook lifted to cover most of her face, trying to be subtle about watching poor Signless attempt to walk in a pair of heels even more precarious than the ones that had gotten thrown onto her feet when she wound up at Stephen Reagan's latest party. The poor guy. The poor, poor guy... and not just for the heels, no way, no how. Though she really needs to stop thinking about that. Yeah...

"...oop!" When he gives a particularly awkward wobble, she can't keep herself from exclaiming with worry.
talltaleteller: (Hwhat?)

[personal profile] talltaleteller 2015-06-07 07:29 pm (UTC)(link)
He has noticed her. He wants to sit down! There are a few moments of starstruck stammering, but then her notebook is set down, her head nodding vigorously. "S-sure! Have a seat, have a seat! Heels are tough." It's easy to have sympathy for him. Their places could be easily exchanged.

"Aaah, aaah... nice dress!" Because it is a nice dress. Super-cute. Wouldn't mind having it, herself. And it's something to say, and compliments always go over well, right?
talltaleteller: (Now Wait)

[personal profile] talltaleteller 2015-06-10 10:57 pm (UTC)(link)
It's only a matter of time on the awkward packet of lovingly-crafted words, Signless. No worries there. Or maybe all the worries.

"Aw, really?" She's not at all shy in expressing her disappointment. "That's kind of a bummer. They make your legs look really good!" Wait, that came out wrong. She squeaks and coughs and shakes her head and tries again. "I mean! I mean, in the general 'you' sense, not.. not you-you! Though. They do look good. I mean. I...."

And then she sighs despairingly and covers her face with her notebook. "You should probably go, I'm no good at this...."

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Yup!

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beckstitch: (You can read all about it)

[personal profile] beckstitch 2015-06-07 03:50 pm (UTC)(link)
Beck is sitting at her desk, one bare foot tucked under her, working on some sketches. She's given herself a day off from sponsor duty, on the grounds that she has to have some time to work, and is rather enjoying the respite from high heels and schmoozing. That doesn't mean she doesn't welcome company, though, and when she swings her chair around to face Signless as he comes in, her smile is broad and genuine.

She doesn't look much like a Stylist at the moment. She's reverted, on her day off, from fashion to statement wear; a fitted hoodie and leggings, her curly hair pulled back in a simple scrunchie and her makeup limited to a dash of colour on the eyelids and lips. It's a look so absurdly unfashionable that it goes all the way back around to being a fashion statement again, with the added benefit that it's much more comfortable than strappy bodysuits and eight-inch heels.

"Hey, Signless. Come on in, sit down. What's up?"
beckstitch: (I just need you to confide in me)

[personal profile] beckstitch 2015-06-11 06:21 pm (UTC)(link)
"I wasn't going to say anything..." Beck replies, and laughs, shaking her head. "I'm glad you came by. Didn't know if I ought to bug you at a time like this. Here, do you want a cookie?" Digging around under the desk, she pulled out a tin, proffering it. "Storebought, I'm afraid. Haven't had time to bake lately, what with all the coming and going. They're nice, though."

She takes a cookie herself, although she sets it down on the desk rather than eating it, nudging it to a corner where it won't get crumbs on her sketchpad. Then she puts the tin away, looking at him expectantly. "It's an honour to actually meet you properly, by the way."
beckstitch: (When you need to smile)

[personal profile] beckstitch 2015-06-14 08:52 pm (UTC)(link)
Beck's quiet for a moment, then she nods a little. "That's true," she says, with a little half-shrug. "But surviving isn't nothing. I've lived in the Capitol my whole life, watched the Games every year. Survival is an art, around here. That you're here just means it's an art you've got on lock."

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dead_black_eyes: "Love Ballad" ('Cause this is my one true sacrifice)

B

[personal profile] dead_black_eyes 2015-06-08 02:44 am (UTC)(link)
Celebrus is on the racks, and Linden's not thrilled with this month's focuses. Someone had tactfully suggested that he take a peek just so he wasn't blindsided later, and while he can't say he's surprised, the added attention is about the last thing he needs now that he's thrown in his lot with the Rebellion and could use some discretion. To have the Capitol breathing down his neck, waiting to see if he's really pursuing an inappropriate relationship with a District 9 Tribute, is highly inconvenient.

He shuffles down to the tower commons with a half-finished bottle of liquor in one hand and a packet of cigarettes in the other. He hears the comment about cloaks and notes that the pacifist Victor is the one giving it voice, and he brushes past Signless toward the rack. Almost nonchalantly, he brushes the issues off into his scrawny arms, dumping them in a nearby trash bin and tipping his bottle over enough to lightly drench the glossy pages. Then he takes a swig, lights a cigarette, and tosses his match into the bin where it ignites. Some nearby Avoxes look apprehensive, but this is clearly not the first time Linden's done this.

"They'll stock more within the half-hour, but it is cathartic... and Victors can get away with much more."
dead_black_eyes: Ange et Démon (Crois-tu que je suis Ange ou Démon?)

[personal profile] dead_black_eyes 2015-06-10 10:36 pm (UTC)(link)
Just because the Victors won their Hunger Games and are named "Mentors" doesn't mean they're necessarily any more enlightened or mature than the average individual, and one thing that's always happened is casual hazing of newer staff members. Linden went through it his first year as a Mentor, sixteen years old and without a clue what his duties were or how to perform them, and when he wasn't doing his best to console Tributes that were basically his own age, he was being pranked, mocked and harassed. Times have changed; he's learned the ropes, of course, and has naturally begun subjecting the newer Mentors to the same absurd insanity.

He's not exactly Johanna Mason, known to strip down to nothing in elevators while maintaining eye contact, but he does go for the same type of shock value. It's a way, perhaps, to remind those who are fresh from their Games that another, much longer Arena is beginning.

The Mentors who become friends have an understanding: that they went through different versions of the same Hell, and they had to kill gentler people to come out on the other side. Comfort in place of judgment, compassion in the place of resentment or anger. In another Arena, we might have tried to kill each other, but now we are allowed to share a drink or an evening as allies. It almost makes the nightmares worth it.

Linden's eyes follow Signless, paying close attention to his reaction. It will decide a lot; because he is the "Pacifist Victor", there are a few Mentors who consider his win little more than a joke. They find it ridiculous, and maybe they're a little envious, too, that he's afforded the luxury of a soul untarnished by murder. That's the price for most people to win, and Signless didn't have to pay it. The show of solidarity makes all the difference it possibly could; if it's a test (it is a test), Signless has passed it, and the corner of Linden's mouth turns up in a taut smile.

"Outlets? Something like that," he says casually, as though they're having this conversation in front of a fireplace instead of a burning trash receptacle. "But that line keeps getting pushed back. It's getting harder to tell what those things are, the ones you have to get away with. Technically," he muses, leaning over so he can watch the glossy pages bend and curl in the heat, "there's no rule against burning a few magazines."

There absolutely will be by the end of the day, but that's not exactly Linden's point.
dead_black_eyes: "Secret Agent Man" (I just speak in future tense)

[personal profile] dead_black_eyes 2015-06-14 11:23 pm (UTC)(link)
"Do you want one?" Linden asks casually, pulling out seven books of matches and thumbing through them like it's his own personal arsonist's rolodex. "A cigarette, maybe, as well? I don't know if you smoke, but it's also a cathartic habit."

Without waiting for Signless to answer, he's got another one between his lips, lighting it, inhaling briefly to get it started, and then offering it to the Troll. Along with it, he offers two books of matches.

Victors, after all, can afford to be generous.

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crabmunicator: (054)

B (cw: blood for the image linked)

[personal profile] crabmunicator 2015-06-09 09:39 pm (UTC)(link)
It's on his return from a visit with sponsors that Karkat finds his ancestor. He's tired out, mind drained from the act of having to suck up and pretend to be more appealing than he thinks he is; of pushing out emotional, syrupy pleas to aid the people he cares about; and of laying his pride underfoot to be crushed and cracked as he made offers and deals of trading advertising for gifts. He's grateful to Linden and Stephen for their advice and pointers, but there's a reason he avoided as much of this as he could before this arena.

Still, his ancestor always draws his attention, and more so in this case because of the magazine he's holding. He knows that magazine. He painstakingly scribbled and wrote all over the bingo card in a copy sent as a gift to Dave. But the thing is, there was something about the Signless in there that he just has to ask about.

Compared to the drab things he adopted in the month between his imprisonment and the start of the arena, he's dressed simply but fashionably today. He doesn't care about the design, but his stylist insisted it would make him more appealing.

He marches up, snaps a copy of the magazine off the rack, and turns until he finds the right page.

He shoves it open-paged at his ancestor's face, finger stuck on the relevant part. "The fuck is this about?"
crabmunicator: (091)

[personal profile] crabmunicator 2015-06-15 02:11 am (UTC)(link)
Karkat's eyes swing into a wide roll. "I was hoping you would delight me with seven rounds of tic tac gore. Get up and haul me off to your block if it's easier, but yes, I want the full story."

He's not sure what he feels about it. It's not like the time Terezi told him she killed his ancestor, but it feels still like something's been kept from him. He thought his ancestor was a pacifist from the start. And while he's not expecting another round of the Initiate to crop up, surprises like these still have him jumpy and on edge.

Besides, if somehow things come out smooth and the long story proves a solid one, he still wants to ask about that supposed quadrant.
crabmunicator: (055)

[personal profile] crabmunicator 2015-06-20 10:05 pm (UTC)(link)
He nods without fuss. Private makes sense enough, and despite his irritable mood he's not going to begrudge him that. He's dealt enough with the public as is.

He follows to the elevator and thumbs the button for District 6 once it's arrived. He has nothing to say on the ride there, and if his ancestor doesn't either, will simply lead him to his block afterward.

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lionhearted_victor: http://girlyb-icons.livejournal.com/19937.html (Default)

C, sorry not sorry

[personal profile] lionhearted_victor 2015-06-14 07:19 pm (UTC)(link)
Leonidas wasn't a man that was easily impressed, especially with people in drag. He worked with the likes of Oceana and Jolie after all, and those two were quintessential staples of Capitol fashion. But when he saw a Victor, Signless of all people, it made the coach stop in his tracks and stare.

"Tell me this is a Sponsor idea."

Nope, but what's going on here?
lionhearted_victor: http://kankonkine.livejournal.com/20913.html#cutid1 ([SILENCE IS GOLDEN])

[personal profile] lionhearted_victor 2015-06-16 11:29 pm (UTC)(link)
"Are you partaking in the sacred tradition of drag? Because you're missing like a pound of make-up and a wig that's taller than a child," Leo pointed out as quickly as Signless said it. He didn't want to admit that the troll messiah was...entertaining to say the least. At least now as he bucked up for the Arena sponsor grab-all.

"I wonder if there's a queen mother you can have to teach you the ways. Jolie shouldn't be too busy."
lionhearted_victor: http://girlyb-icons.livejournal.com/19937.html ([CLEAR THE ARENA])

[personal profile] lionhearted_victor 2015-06-21 03:33 am (UTC)(link)
"Did you forget where you are? Must be some short-term memory problem with trolls, or is it just you?"

Banter aside, Leo tossed the Signless something that could help: a tablet. "You're a Victor, understated has stopped being in your vocabulary for a while now. What you can do is vintage, the Capitol will eat it up and you're looking like the next new fad from the past."

At least he was being as subtle as he could about calling the troll a victor given his pacifist behavior.

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bless this thread

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