'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

[piroudeath]

Some of Sansa's words are painfully familiar and straight out of some of the books on dancing her father had imported to District 8 after he married her mother, some of them she even knows the steps and the timing for (and tries not to think about the fact that her father will probably never help her practice her waltzing again). "They sound lovely." She can't help but beam at the other girl. "Though, I have to admit, I've never heard of anything described as Mereenese."

Without even thinking, her feet slide into fifth position. "I'd love to, though I don't know how much time I'll have." That comes out far grimmer than she intended, but at the same time, it's the truth.

[porcelainandsteel]

Sansa's smile falters for a moment, and it's only her strong will and long practice that lets it return to looking natural. She hates that thought, and all that goes along with it. She hates that there's nothing she can do. She'll be hard-pressed to survive, and has no illusions that she'll be able to protect anyone else, but gods, she hates the thought of this girl dying.

"You could show me now," she suggests, her tone falsely bright. "I mean, why not? It would let the Capitol see you, as well."