[CLOSED]

[69problems]

Who| The Signless, Peeta, and Cinna (not all at once!)
What| Signless meets his mentor and stylist properly.
Where| District 12 suites; prep center
When| Now-ish probably!
Warnings/Notes| Probably none. If anything comes up I'll add.

The Signless has spent a good deal of time in his room since he died and was brought back to the Capitol. It's not that he's antisocial -- he's quite proud of all the alien acquaintances he's made -- but there's simply so much to take in and a good deal of it he can get to without walking more then ten feet. He spent a good several hours messing with shower combinations once he figured out how it worked, and even though he's used it a few times now, the idea of being able to order any food you like at any time and have it appear immediately still enchants him.

The Capitol doesn't have much of the sort of food trolls recognize, so he's been being adventurous and picking at random. Today that means some sort of shellfish in bright green sauce, which is turning out to be remarkably good even if it may be a little strange to eat it while sitting cross-legged in a pile of blankets and pillows in the middle of the floor.

***

The Signless has been here before, but he's still not necessarily comfortable in the prep center. It's so sterile and, well, alien, far more alien than the rest of the Capitol. He thought the first time they brought him down here and did their very best to remove fourteen solar sweeps of calluses was the last time, but here he is again, because apparently there's someone else who'd like to see him. He hopes they aren't going to try to scrub the bottoms of his feet off, whoever they are.

Comments

Peeta thread!

[shinyisfalse]

Ah, shower combinations. Peeta still has to laugh at himself for dealing with that one. Showers were not something they had back home, not until he came to live in the Victor's Village. He almost missed that place at times, until he was able to eat here. All the food you could want. Anything you could want, actually. Even now, it's all still very strange to him, and he's noticed how strange it is to everyone else.

But he was really surprised to see someone sitting in the middle of the floor in a bunch of pillows and blankets. So when he came in, he didn't say anything for a minute, grabbing a glass of orange juice first.

"Having a picnic?"

[69problems]

The Signless looked up at Peeta the moment he spoke, clearly spooked until he saw that this person wasn't threatening and relaxed. He had expected Karkat -- Karkat was the only person that ever came into his room without knocking.

"Lunch," he clarified. "In the middle of the day, which is strange, but I'm getting used to it. Who are you?" It seemed a little rude to ask, but then, this person had just sort of barged into his room.

[setfires]

Cinna appeared after the prep team had had their way with The Signless. He smiled as he came over to where the troll was waiting and sat down in front of him. After the colorful prep team, Cinna's black clothing seems almost monotone. The hint of color around his eyes brings up the gold specks in them.

"Hello," he said. "I'm Cinna."

[shinyisfalse]

"I'm sorry, I really should have knocked," Peeta apologized sheepishly. "I'm not used to all of these rooms being occupied, I promise, I won't ever do this again." It was strange to be back here all the time. Really, Peeta hadn't spent a significant amount of time here since his own games. They had stopped here every so often, but everything was different now. There were a lot of people here.

"I'm Peeta, and we obviously haven't met yet, but I'm one of your mentors," He could leave it at that, but. "You don't have lunch in the middle of the day back home?"

[69problems]

Oh, thank goodness, someone who looked... well, not normal, but at least more normal than the bizarre Capitol people who worked on the prep team. He was wearing all-black, like many trolls did, which was just familiar enough to be comforting.

"The Signless," he said, nodding his head politely. His hair, freshly washed and brushed, flopped into his face and he pushed it back with a hand the nails of which appeared to be naturally yellow.

[setfires]

"I'm your Stylist," Cinna explained. "Do you know what that means?"

[69problems]

"Mentor. Right." He pondered this word and what it probably entailed, and decided he didn't much care for it. It meant this person wasn't a fellow tribute, and thus was likely a native of this world and someone who wholly bought into the idea that a forced death match was a perfectly lovely form of entertainment. And what could this alien male possibly teach him? How to die in a more entertaining manner? He certainly wouldn't get very far trying to teach him to kill other tributes, and if he had any delusions of that, the Signless was going to have set him straight soon.

"And no, we don't. Trolls are nocturnal. Right now I should be asleep." He was trying his very best to adjust to a diurnal sleep schedule, and he was to be fair doing alright, but it still felt fundamentally wrong to be up and about at a time when he should have been dreaming. "For how trolloid your species is, there are a few fundamental differences that've made getting used to life here difficult."

[69problems]

"Not entirely. But I assume it has something to do with my physical appearance. Humans -- at least, the majority of them that live there -- seem very preoccupied with how they look. And how we look."

At least, from what he could tell from the chatter of the prep team. Theyd commented on everything, from his blunt, triangular teeth ('unsettling') to his red and yellow eyes ('striking') to his horns (they were oh, so excited to get to work on one of the creatures that had started that 'new, hot trend') to his height ('disappointing').

[setfires]

"That's true. My job is to play with the aspects of yourself that you want to show the cameras. Anything that will help you get the sponsors that you need to survive."

[69problems]

"Ah. That's going to be an issue." He met Cinna's eyes with an earnest expression. "There's not a lot at all that I want to show the cameras. Not that they'd like, anyway. I don't think they'd think of pacifism as entertaining."

[setfires]

"Pacifism?" Cinna asked, intrigued. "What do you mean?"

[69problems]

"I mean that I don't -- I refuse to cause harm. I don't believe that any sentient being deserves to be killed, especially not for the entertainment of those who've never known a hardship in their life and find it novel and therefore funny." His tone is perfectly measured and reasonable, but he's expecting a fight. He knows enough by now to know that this is not a popular view of things.

[setfires]

Cinna nodded at that, thinking it over. He didn't seem like he wanted to fight. If anything, he was impressed by the conviction. "Are you prepared to die because of that?"

[69problems]

He nodded. "For as long as I'm a prisoner here. I was prepared to die for my beliefs long before this, so really, nothing's changed except location."

[setfires]

Cinna nodded at that, accepting it. "Then my job will be to make sure that people care when you do," he said. "If you make an impression, you can do more to honor your convictions."

[69problems]

He mulled that over. Really, it made sense. If he kept to what he believed and died for it, he had more chance of reaching more people, of touching their hearts and minds, if they cared for him.

"... Alright. How do you suggest I make an impression? My horns already have." Even if troll horns didn't come in rainbow. It wasn't like the Capitolites could be bothered with particulars.

[setfires]

Cinna nodded and stood then. He came closer to the troll, inspecting the horns in question. "Do you mind if I touch?"

[69problems]

"Oh." Well, he couldn't possibly mean it in a flirtatious way, could he? "No, go ahead."

The horns wouldn't feel particularly strange; they were smooth and hard, inflexible -- though the Signless's were so small that they wouldn't have bent much either way.

[setfires]

Cinna's fingers tested the texture of the horns as he looked at them carefully. "It might be a good idea to play off of them," he commented. "They are the unique thing." People could always dye their hair, skin or eyes. He pulled back then and looked over the form in front of him.

"How do you dress when you're home?"

[69problems]

His face brightened immediately. His mother had been his original stylist, after all.

"A gray cloak," he said, "And a pair of chest-high leggings with red ornamentation. Simple. Easy to move in. No shoes," he added. "There's a particular human woman who's very insistent that I wear them. I never have and I do better without."

[setfires]

"We can work with that," Cinna said. "Not wearing shoes is a sign of humbleness in human culture. If we do it right we can play into your pacifism with it." A pause. "Though you can expect my prep team to constantly be cleaning them. I hope you won't mind too much."

[69problems]

He sighed. "I'll bear it. Just tell them to leave my calluses alone, if they can. If I'm trying to walk around an Arena on perambulation nubs with skin as soft as a grub's underbelly, I won't get very far."

[setfires]

"Can you withstand extreme temperature?" Cinna asked. "If the Arena is covered in ice should I plan for shoes then?"

[69problems]

"We can't stand extreme heat. Our sun is in its later stages of life; we're nocturnal partially because we have to be. It's too hot during the day and looking anywhere near the sun can be permanently blinding. I don't have as much experience with cold, since Alternia is a warm planet, but some protection might be good until we know for certain how much cold I can take."

Better safe than sorry, right?

[setfires]

Cinna nodded then. "I'll keep that in mind. I don't know a lot of the Arenas but if we have a bad summer here, I'll work with you to make it bearable."