'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]

"Guess so," Mollusc says, shrugging as he starts to follow Roland. He keeps a reasonable distance, even in the elevator, because if Roland is really willing to let him go far enough to enough to hold a knife to his throat, he must have some kind of plan to circumvent it if Mollusc shows any signs of taking it further.

They stand in silence for a second until Roland breaks it, asking Mollusc to talk about himself. He crosses his arms over his chest, considering it, deciding that it's nothing he won't eventually hear in an interview anyway.

"I like to fish, I like to cook. I'm a strong swimmer. I have a sister, and I wrote a story with my pen pal that I'm probably not going to get to finish. How's that to start?"

[ka_sera_sera]

Roland considers. "A fair answer," he decides. Roland likes to cook, too, and could now say so, but doing it doesn't occur to him. He's trying to gain some part of the boy's trust and make him an ally, not charm him like you'd charm a shy child determined to hide behind his mother's skirts.

Tall as this building is, taller even than most in this high, beautiful city - because as much as its inhabitants seem to Roland all rotted and spoilt, the city itself is beautiful - the elevator doesn't take long to make the journey and its doors open before Roland's decided to continue.

He will continue, though, and does as he makes his way down the hall toward the training rooms. They've got a little walking yet left to do, and Roland is curious. "Pen pals. That must be a tradition of this world I haven't heard yet. Did you and your penned pal imagine your story, or did you tell of something that happened?"

[m0llusc]

Mollusc might be stoic and standoffish, but shy isn't the right word, and he's not had a mother's apron to cling to in many years. It's just been him and his sister, and it's made him old and protective beyond his years.

They're moving quick, and then the doors are sliding aside and they're stepping out on the training center's floor. He follows after Roland, dark eyes attentive, never leaving the other man's back as they walk and talk.

"It was for the Youth Programme," he explains, opening up more now that the other man has demonstrated that he's willing to turn his back on Mollusc. "The Offworld kids wrote to District kids, and I was one of the District kids. Mine was Aang. He sent me some drawings and I wrote a story about a sea witch, but we talked about plenty of things that happened, too."

[ka_sera_sera]

"A witch, hm? I'd like to hear a little some time, if you'd tell it." This is no meaningless pleasantry. He really does want to hear it, and his tone may hint as much. It'd tell him a little about district four, maybe, and probably a little about the boy himself. No time now, though, because even as Roland says it he's walking into the training rooms. He slows a little, turns to watch Mollusc's reaction to the place. All the weapons, the machines meant to train and teach, the people here and there showing their skill. Panem being what it is, he doubts such a set of rooms even exist outside the Capitol, and how the boy reacts to that might be a good thing to know.

"Aang's a fine boy," he says, watching Mollusc's face. "Very agile, knows his way around a fight. I'm sure there's a few things he can teach you, too. But weapons - especially long distance ones - are what I know well. Pick one." His right hand waves toward the wall near which most of this place's training weapons are stored. With the gesture the cogs and gears that make up that hand's first two fingers flick toward a knife, and Roland raises his eyebrows. They can't just go and pick it up, after all. Well, they can. But a pretext will help.

[m0llusc]

"It's just a stupid story," he mumbles, but without ire. The man's interest is genuine, and that comes through in his gentle, interested tone. It's different from the overblown ecstasy that Capitolites treat him with because he's a lamb all trussed up for slaughter, and he appreciates it in this existentially lonely hour. "...but if you really want, I guess so."

When they come to the training room, Mollusc stares around at the wide area, the racks of weapons and games meant to hone the reflexes and instincts. He sets his jaw, determined not to look intimidated when faced with an array of deadly things that could be used against him in the very near future. Then he heads for the rack with the knives, steps steady and brisk. He selects one similar to the one he has back home, that he uses to gut the fish he catches.

"On your knees," he demands, an attempt at sounding authoritative and like someone to be feared. "We'll see if you meant it."

[ka_sera_sera]

Roland raises his eyebrows, but he doesn't hear any commotion from anywhere nearby. Seems like no one's listening that closely. Which does not mean that no one is watching. "I mean to try and keep myself out of trouble for this. So if you don't mind-" He pauses, holding out a hand. "Hand that to me. Try and look curious, as if I were explaining its use to you. I'll sit in the corner over there, and you'll sit in front of me. I'm not broad enough to block you completely, but maybe enough that no one'll look too close."

He waits a second, but even if Mollusc does not hand him the knife he'll move over to the corner anyway, sit down cross legged, and wait. He doesn't mind it, waiting. Give the boy time to think, if he happens to take it.

[m0llusc]

Oh. That's right, there are rules against Tributes fighting each other, and Roland and Mollusc both absolutely run the risk of getting into trouble. At first he looks distrustful; handing the knife to Roland defeats the entire purpose of why they came here, doesn't it? He doesn't hand it over, rather holds it tighter, and then he watches the man calmly go to the corner and sit down. He's not bracing, not concerned or on the lookout for an attack. It's essentially the proof that Mollusc wanted, albeit packaged a little differently from the agreement they initially made.

He follows, then tosses the knife to the floor in front of Roland where it lands with a metallic clatter.

"Fine. I'll trust you. Only someone I've got no reason to be afraid of would act like this."

[ka_sera_sera]

He nods, looking at the knife but not taking it. "Tha-th-th- Thank you, Mollusc." Roland's jaw goes a little tight, and the line of his lips presses a little more closely together. Every now and then he does stop himself from using his world's words in time to keep that sort of thing from happening, but he's made it a habit not to bother. This gives him something almost like freedom - the knowledge that they haven't conditioned him that far, not yet - but that can sometimes make things inconvenient.

Makes things a pain in the ass, actually. Thankee-sai would've been alright, even if the boy had no way to hear the respect inherent in the phrase. What Roland got instead - well. All he can do is move on, hope it didn't make him sound nervous, because with this boy - as with certain other dangerous boys he's known, as with the boy he himself was, once - even an instant of perceived weakness could be one instant too long. He keeps his expression even. "Does that trust go far enough to earn me your weaknesses? We're in the right place now, after all, to try and train them out of you. If you've the time."

This last is delivered dryly, pointedly. If he pokes at the boy a little, lets his tone hint that Mollusc might not do all he can to survive in this place, any perceived moment of weakness on Roland's part might just pass the boy right by. One can only hope.

[m0llusc]

Mollusc cants his head and looks confused; for a second it sounds like Roland's stuttering, which isn't consistent with the calm and collected bearing he'd affected a few moments previously. Offworlders are weird, though. He knows that, all the Tribute Youth Programme kids know that. There's probably a reason for it that's beyond his understanding.

He sits down nearby, folding his legs indian-style.

"Weaknesses? Guess it'd be whatever else a soft squishy body would be weak to. Knives, spears, bullets, that kind of thing," he says with a shrug. "But if you're asking something that's not obvious, I guess I can be kind of rash. I can get myself into trouble with the stuff I say sometimes, and the stuff I do."

[ka_sera_sera]

"I was thinking in terms of skill, whether you've anything in particular we might be able to hone. But since you'd speak on it, how do you mean to act in the arena? Do you mean to make friends, or enemies?" His tone places favor with neither of those options. He isn't asking to judge one or the other, he's only asking.

[m0llusc]

"I'm not here to make friends or enemies," Mollusc clarifies. "I want to make it home and it seems like both of those things are just going to get in the way. If I have to pick ones, it's gonna be friends, obviously, but I mean... I'll do what I have to."

Thinking of never seeing his sister again and spearing someone like an eel is an easy choice for Mollusc, in other words.

"If you're talking about skill, I guess it's a little late to be learning anything new. I'd rather focus on what I've got some hope at using, things like honing spear technique or perfecting my knots."

[ka_sera_sera]

(ooc: is there anything else it would be fun to see them do or shall we fade here-ish?)


"Fair enough," Roland says and stands, nodding toward the knife. "Take that for now, if it suits you. The spearwork first, I think - your knotwork is fine enough to go on. Come, Mollusc. I'll help you prepare as best I can."

/thread wrap!

[m0llusc]

Mollusc seems to consider for a second before deciding to take the knife, grasping it and nodding briskly.

"Don't know how much of this is fair, but close enough, I guess. Thanks for your..." he frowns, having some difficulty finding the right word. "Thanks for the trust, I guess. Wasn't expecting to find that anywhere here."

With that, he goes with Roland to work on his spear technique, help that he accepts gladly and takes very seriously.