'Cause we all wanna party when the funeral ends and we all get together when we bury our friends

[etcircenses]

Who| TYP Children and You?
What| TYP Children have the opportunity to look around.
Where| The Tribute Tower main floor.
When| Now through the week leading up to the arena.
Warnings/Notes| TYP children showing up early is not mandatory. This is merely an avenue for those NPC players who were interested.

In part with the President’s wishes, the District children are not training or living in the same building, but rather, a refurbished old Tribute tower as was used in the days before Tributes were offworlders of vast number. Mentors, Escorts, and Stylists alike will need to travel to the new building to work with them, then travel back to see to their offworld Tributes. Public appearances are minimal so long as the Tribute is kept busy with training and private interviews. There is, however, a brief chance to meet a few of them before the arena, should you catch them on a visit to the offworlder’s tower, restricted to the main floor. Through this, the lucky few District children able to show are allowed fleeting glimpses in person of those they will be competing with and possibly even a chance to talk to them in person.

Comments

[m0llusc]

He notices the way her eyes seem to linger on his mouth, furrowing his brow.

"Well... hello, then," he says shortly, untying one of his knots so he can start over with it. He's very talented at this, even by District 4's standards. The reason for the close attention on his lips becomes clear at her further explanation.

"I can read and write. It's fine," he says. "Sorry you can't hear. Do you have the pen and paper on you or do I have to use some of my precious remaining time to go hunt them down?"

[furgood]

Meulin catches almost none of what he says after he seems amiable. She hadn't been trying to imply he couldn't, but that was a mistake not worth worrying over. The rest is lost to her, due less to a failure to read his lips and more about how her attention and gaze are focused on getting out her notebook and pen. She holds them out, clasping her hands in front of her once they're in his possession.

"Never leave home without them."

She could always ask an avox for something to write with but that wastes time and, well, it still feels wrong. Something she's still getting used to in the Capitol and not something she wants to bring up in front of him.

"How old are you? If you don't mind my asking."

[m0llusc]

He nods and accepts the pen and paper, uncapping the writing utensil and tapping it against the paper. It makes him think of the story that Aang encouraged him to start writing, and that's bittersweet. He's fairly sure that he might not live to finish it, never write any more, and it makes him hesitate.

He blinks, then starts writing.

15. I don't mind. What about YOU??

[furgood]

Fifteen, a year younger than her sister. Her gaze rests on the paper longer than it takes to read it as the implications flood in. Once again, she wonders what would have happened if they'd stayed there. Finally, she raises her eyes and smiles faintly. It's harder to figure out the right sort of expressions she's allowed to have. What's appropriate? Is remorse and sorrow allowed or would that be seen as allying too openly?

"Twenty three last month. I thought you were around the middle," She pauses, "Did you ever train for this?"

She knew some children stopped when the reapings did. Other kept up, fearful and resolute, afraid of something like this or training for altercations that might come.

[m0llusc]

Mollusc looks long and hard at her expression, and if there's something sympathetic and kind there, it's probably safe to say that he's successfully picked up on it.

He bends his head over the paper again, wrist curling as he writes an answer.

Never thought I'd get Reaped. Unless swimming and fishing and tying knots is training, I didn't train any more than you probably did. Unless you mean since I got here. If that's what you mean I'm still waiting for my Mentor to do what they're supposed to and help.

[furgood]

Of course he wouldn't have trained. He probably hadn't gone through a reaping where his own name was in the bowl. At 15, he would have just missed it. Lord knows, she hadn't trained for the Arena and she hadn't needed to. The odds had been in her favor. If only the same had held true for Mollusc.

"They'll take care of you. I purromise. Just listen to them. Derek and Chuck have done this twice now, they've gone up against the people in the arena now so listen close to them. Anna won so listen to her too. Ally if you can, people here now are far more amenable to alliances than before. And ah--survival skills maybe?"

Meulin tucks a curl of hair back, eyes far off as she thinks.

"Do you have a token?"

[m0llusc]

Though Mollusc grew up with the Hunger Games, he really did think that he dodged a bullet by being just young enough to come into the age range when only Offworlders were getting Reaped. That makes all of this even more painful.

I'll listen. Trust me, I don't want to get killed.

He seems surprised at her question, but bows his head to write again.

Nope. Couldn't decide on anything.

[furgood]

His hope spurs her own. Maybe he can win, maybe, if they work hard enough to keep him alive and send him off with enough skills. If they just try hard enough, District Four can have another winner, a true winner. She'd show and smile through the playacting and condescension of her District, if only he'd win.

"Good. Best attitude to have," she says, as if he doesn't know it himself. Of course he does, they all do. Killing and surviving are the games. He'd know it.

"Well, I had an idea. Not an idea, just, something I brought. Just in case?"

She fumbles through her bag for her favorite necklace, the one she wore when she faced the Capitol the very first time. It's held out in her palms, a strong cord knotted around a pearl. It's not the perfect pearl, a little off from sphere with a knobby bit to the side.

"I got that pearl when I was younger than you. From diving in District Four. I might not wear it as a necklace in the arena but a bracelet maybe. It'd wrap twice."

[m0llusc]

Mollusc is a cocky and optimistic kid, if somewhat sarcastic at times. He wants to win, not because he wants to kill but because he wants foremost to survive and return to his sister. If he wears that attitude firmly enough, maybe he can get enough sponsors to make winning a sure thing for him.

"Huh? An idea? OK..." he says, before remembering that he's supposed to be writing. He scratches the words out and then leans forward to see what Meulin is taking out of her bag. He knows what it is immediately, and his eyebrows raise.

Sounds like it means a lot to you. Are you sure it's OK for me to take it somewhere it'll probably get damaged?

[furgood]

It's a valid question. There's a decent chance she won't see it again or even if he wins, his token might not survive as well. She offers it regardless. It's what she thought she would take if she was reaped. It's what she thought, in the back of her mind where she worried about things, that she might give to her sister if she was reaped. It was only right that it go to an actual Districter.

"I know where you'd be taking it Mollusc. It's alright. I wouldn't offer it if I wasn't prepared to see you keep it. Just bring it back to me.Unless you'd rather have something else. They can find something else for you, your mentors and things."

[m0llusc]

Even though the Gamemakers do their best to make sure that Tributes are as intact and recoverable as possible, bodies are frequently completely decimated in Arenas, clothing, tokens and all. Mollusc grimly faces the potential for that to happen.

"OK," he agrees, nodding, reaching out to take it. He thinks it's clear enough that he doesn't have to write it down, but what he wants to say next could probably benefit from a physical representation for Meulin's benefit.

I'll do my best. That's literally the most I can offer, but I appreciate having something from my District. I guess I didn't think to bring anything. Do you mind if I tell Caesar where I got it if he asks?

[furgood]

With care and reverence, she places the token in his hand, the cord coiled in his palm. It may be the last day she sees it in person but she's prepared for that. It was always meant to be a good luck charm, maybe it'll bring him luck now.

The question isn't unexpected but requires some thought. It's known who she is and where she's from, but it might seem too much like a stark reminder of the fact. Then again, the audience might appreciate the touch of loyalty for Panem. A Districter seen with offworlders supporting a son of Panem. Maybe that will keep her and hers safe in the end.

"That's all we ask. I can't ask anything else from you," she says, "And you may tell him. It's not like where I'm from is a secret and they must expect me to have some ties to it still, given who I live with. If I throw my support behind anyone, you're the best choice. Better you than an offworlder."

[m0llusc]

He closes his hand around the token, taking equal care and reverence to let her know that the precious object will be cared for and treasured to the best of his ability. Even though he'll be a child fighting for his life in the Arena, he'll try to protect it with everything he has. When he opens his hand again, he wraps the cord around his wrist twice, tying it in place with one of the securest knots he knows. He's so good at it that he's able to do it one-handed.

He nods, accepting her permission to drop her name. Then he starts writing again, raising his eyebrows questioningly as he finishes and glances back up at her.

You don't like the offworlders? Not any?

[furgood]

Her fingertips find the clover tattooed on her wrist. Her smile shifts with a hint of sadness, something subtle. It's not particularly safe to like offworlders right now.

"I've met some I like. I'd count a few among my friends, though at least one didn't make it back last arena." The lie sits easy on her because it's not wholly a lie, she isn't here after all. Just like many of the tributes who ended up in District 13. Gone but not gone.

"But after the interviews, well, they're dangerous."

[m0llusc]

Mollusc is a clever enough boy to pick up on certain tells and be aware of what subjects are unsafe to pursue. Subtle or not, he gets it.

Sorry about your friend, he writes, sincerely sympathetic. I guess I can see how they wouldn't be considered safe after those interviews.

But I still think it's pretty cool, the way that happened.

[furgood]

Privately, she'd agree. It was kind of cool how it happened. It hurt to have to publicly dismiss the children, especially Aang who was just trying his best. She nods a thanks for his sympathy and moves on.

"I'm sure they didn't mean anything horrible by what they said. They don't usually. They wanted to help us in some way. Just went about it all wrong."

She shakes her head, as if dismissing them entirely. Appearances had to be kept up.

[m0llusc]

There's a lot that Mollusc privately feels, but has the good sense not to say out loud... even if this latest development makes him want to. It's even harder when he's pretty sure that the individual he's speaking with sympathizes, but even if some people are safe, the Tower certainly isn't. Probably more buggy than a rotted-out log.

They're just Offworlders. Probably don't know any better.

He likes Aang, too. It's a very weird situation to be encouraged to be someone's pen pal only to arrive and find that person sort of shunned.

[furgood]

The feeling of having to talk past an issue is one she's intimately familiar with. There's so much she wants to ask him that she just can't. Instead, she shifts her weight and shrugs. The offworlders tried their best and it was obviously enough to make the Capitol nervous. It obviously made it to the Districts or at least she hopes so. He might have picked it up while he was here. She can't ask.

"That much is obvious," Or they might have covered their backs better.

"And they're expecting less of a fight with the games now. So don't hesitate."

[m0llusc]

His eyebrows raise at the way she phrased that.

"Don't hesitate?" You mean, to kill anyone? That might be getting ahead of ourselves. I actually would rather not. These people aren't my enemies unless they make themselves my enemies. Not before then, but after, they'd better watch out.

[furgood]

Sometimes Meulin forgets she's friends with what essentially amounts to two Careers and that they have muddled her ideas of what to do in the arena. It's unclear, even to her, if she meant killing or simply self defense, so just nods.

"No, no you're right. I just don't want you not to defend yourself. They can come back, you wouldn't. You only have the one life, just take care of it."

[m0llusc]

Careers will certainly warp that view, and though 4 is closer to Career Districts than most of the outlying ones, it's not as true these days as it used to be.

He snorts before writing his answer.

Don't worry. I've got a sister to get back to. I'm not just gonna lie down and die. I'm going on as long as my body lets me, and then a little bit further.

[furgood]

His reply works either way. Determination is a good thing to have and he seems to have it in spades. Her expression softens and she leans down to peck a kiss on his forehead. It's probably too familiar, but that's Meulin at her best. Too familiar.

"Good. Don't let your sister down. I'll bug the boys to take care of you. Inside the arena and out."

And she steps back, holding out her hand for the notepad back. She shouldn't have been here talking to him in the first place really. There were things to do.

[m0llusc]

Mollusc is, as native Tributes go, a pretty good bet for any Sponsor who likes their kids plucky and tough as nails. He blinks, but otherwise doesn't react to the kiss. He's not like some of them, jumpy about physical contact; he knows that if he wins, he has to get used to that anyway, in situations ranging from innocent to anything but.

He hands back the notepad, giving her a minimal and respectful nod in parting.

[furgood]

With just a nod back, she turns, leaves. He deserves a better goodbye but she suddenly can't stay here. If she stays, she'll want to drag him out. To save him from the end he's marching toward.

Outside in the clear air, she reaches in her pocket for something that isn't there, then hurries away.