Late (any tributes)

[jimmylost]

Mel had gotten to the training centre late. Her fashion team had made a big deal about two hours only being fashionably late and it would just give all of them a chance to take in her fabulous new look. Well they would say that considering it was mostly their fault she was late. Apparently her little getup during the reaping had inspired her stylist. He hadn't realized that covering up the frilly black dress with a heavy work jacket and wearing old boots that were still covered in mud from that mornings thunderstorm hadn't been a fashion statement but her own little form of rebellion.

He said it made her the girl with layers, tough and hard on the outside but soft and girly on the inside. Mel didn't know how she felt being described like a candy bar but she didn't argue. Two sides was hardly layers but she guessed the Capitol citizens probably couldn't handle much more then that.

Her stylist used the word dichotomy quite a bit when he was preparing her for her training outfit, like a little boy learning a new swear. She didn't think he actually knew what it meant. The end result had her in a dress that looked like it was made of black bows that ended at her knees like her reaping outfit had done. Rather then leaving her legs bare though they had put her in a pair of bright pink leggings. The whole thing was covered up of course with a heavy jacket that had an excess of buckles and zippers that didn't actually do anything, the same with her boots that also had large chunks at the bottom to make her look taller.
She had been able to stop the stylists from going too overboard with the makeup arguing that anything more then some eyeliner would lean her too far towards the hard side that it would take away from the soft. Her stylist seemed so happy that she actually understood his vision that he had agreed though not before dotting her cheeks with pink blush that matched her leggings. Luckily she had manged to wipe the blush away along with most of her eye makeup while she was in the elevator going down to the training centre.

She concentrated on what she had been doing instead of sleeping last night. She had been going over the reaping over and over, trying to get an understanding of the other tributes. She hadn't manged to pinpoint anyone she's want to ally with though she had made note of people she decided she liked. People like the girl from ten who volunteered to save her sister, or the boy from nine who shared a name with her deceased brother. She wasn't looking for allies, in fact her plan worked better without them, but if she was going to some she would have to be smart about it.

That's what she was thinking about when the doors to the lift opened and she walked into the training centre. She folded her arms over her chest immediately grateful for the ridiculous jacket because it put up a layer not only between her and the chill in this place but also between her ant the other tributes.

[Prince Inigo]

Papero Hitomiya

Training was precious; time was precious; everything in the Training Center, precious. If a single minute was wasted for District 11's Tribute, detrimental - or fatal - results could come to him later. His thinking was clear, unobstructed of other pesky notions. Training was important.

Other Tributes earlier interrupted mastery progression when he had barely gotten the protocol. Tan hands and feet slashed imaginary enemies at the hand-to-hand combat station. Muscles were starting to resist less with the motion and let the mind be open to the universe. The man was smiling in pride, in happiness as small salty beads rolled down his face.

The male Tribute, after many punches and kicks, decided to take a short break against the wall. Short huffs escaped his lungs. He caught a presence entering the Training Center, perceiving a woman probably near his own age crossing arms over her chest. Blinking, he was deciding between two choices, while taking into consideration the current state he was in, seemingly improper and barbaric.

[jimmylost]

The hairs on the back of Mel's neck stood on edge. She turned to the cause a sweaty boy clearly just out of one of the fighting stations was staring at her. She called up his name from her night of studying, Papero, easy to remember because it was so odd. He was the male tribute, a volunteer from District eleven, even more odd. His overall demeanor while on camera up until now had been one of a gentleman. Now there seemed to be something under the surface of that, and Mel didn't like it.

Taking strength from her shield she strolled up to the boy. She had to hold onto this character even for the other tributes. This would give her the same choice every time she spoke, or acted, or moved. Soft or tough.

Looking over at one of the younger tributes with tear stained eyes carrying on a constant weeping act she decided soft was taken. She kept her arms crossed and met Papero's eyes.

"Can I help you with something?" she said in her best tough girl voice.

[Prince Inigo]

Papero grew embarrassed as the girl Tribute started walking to his location. As per the gentleman traditions, he attempted to remain tranquil towards the situation.

"Oh, I am quite sorry, Madam," he started, frowning. "Forgive me for my rudeness. I was contemplating if I should properly introduce myself or stay silent if the previous choice was too improper and sudden." He kept his eye contact on the woman, though they wavered. "Will you give me the honor of your name, Madam?" Papero suddenly thought over his condition. "Or, perhaps not right at this moment. I am reeking with sweat. It's not proper protocol in an introduction."

[jimmylost]

Mel decided she had imagined whatever it was that made her so wary of the Papero. As soon as he opened his mouth calling him gentlemanly seemed an understatement.

"You're talking about manners as we all run around training to kill each other in a few days time. The sweat's no big deal" she held out her hand "Melanie Clark District Three, most people just call me Mel."

[Prince Inigo]

Papero chuckled lightly. "Manners are my best suite, I'm afraid. It still is very improper of me; but, if you do not mind, then I will not run off for a quick rinse."

The District 11 Tribute firmly shook the District 3 Tribute's hand. "Papero Hitomiya, District 11 male Tribute. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Ah..." He let go of her hand. "Since you mention what other parties call you, which would you prefer: Ms. Clark or Ms. Mel? Or even Ms. Melanie?"

[jimmylost]

"Um, well just Mel is fine but if you must Ms. Clark would make the most sense wouldn't it?" said Mel.

She let her gaze wander around the training center, things were defiantly already underway with tributes already clumping together into alliances. Mel was beginning to twist her strategy to fit into these situations. If she stayed alone she would either be at a very great advantage or an even greater disadvantage. Not to mention this completely messed up the first three days in the arena if people were all sticking together.

The best thing to do would be to plan for both situations and act according to how things played out. She looked up at Papero, he'd make a good start.

"Looks like this year is going to be heavy on alliances huh?" she said tilting her chin towards the clumps of tributes.

[Prince Inigo]

"Then I shall call you Ms. Clark. It is a more suitable title for your grace." Papero had no problem saying truthful comments; he saw no wrong in them.

He followed her gaze wherever her eyes went. A forming opinion entered his mind, and silent he was about it.

As Mel asked a question, his brown orbs returned to her face. "Indeed, it certainly seems so, Ms. Clark. It even seems like the Career Tributes are allying with lower District Tributes for these Hunger Games. Quite a perplexing notion, I say."

[jimmylost]

Mel smiled, talking to Papero was kind of like having a butler.

If I win this thing I could actually get myself a butler she thought.

Directly after came another thought.

No the only thing worse then losing you now would be getting you back the way you would be after her mother's voice rung in her ears followed by a much younger one.

Now, Mel, you're now in the Games, where I was going to go. Isn't it exciting! It must be great! You have to be great! You have to do your best! For your family, for District 3, for the Capitol.--- Unmistakeably Pystan.

Mel shook her head to free herself of the conflicting thoughts and voices returning her attention to Papero.

"I guess the Capitol will be getting there share of betrayals this year" she said with a smile practically channeling the career she stole this place from "Well I better get going I'm already late as it is"

The change between her though side and her soft side defiantly seemed more multiple personality then layered. Mel liked it better that way, it was so much more fun to be crazy then complex. she flipped her hair and skipped off; as best she could with the chunky boots, to the fire making station.

[Prince Inigo]

Brown eyes widened to the size of quarters. Papero almost gaped his mouth in utter surprise, and the emotion left after the impact was a heavy dosage of confusion. Remembering his manners, the Tribute shook away his puzzlement and walked - anxiously and curiously - after Mel.

Following her, he spoke softly but more loudly than usual, "Ms. Clark, might I ask if there is an appropriate reason to the sudden change of personality?" Papero rolled his eyes to the boots. "And might I suggest you be more careful as you're skipping and frolicking about your ways? I'm afraid you might hurt yourself."

[jimmylost]

"Oh don't you worry about me" she said turning on her heal, no easy feat "I'm just going to try and start some fires, I'll have to ask my stylist to get me some less useless shoes for tomorrow"

She sat down looking over the supplies in front of her. This was actually something she wanted to get right so she dropped the act to pay attention to the tutor who was demonstrating the hardest method, according to him, of lighting a fire. No flint just sticks, rubbed together, Mel had thought it was just a figurative statement. She accepted her ignorance and mimicked the tutor.

[Prince Inigo]

Papero rose both brows and blinked his eyes. He regained normalcy almost immediately, smiling gentlemanly. "Then allow me to practice with you at any station we happen to share; and, allow me to escort you and watch over your performances so that I may support you. A gentleman always hands support to a lady in their activities and hobbies." His eyes had an alluring aspect in them. "Since it seems that we're heading to the fire-making station, something I hold interest in, I will practice there with you."

Earlier the gentlemanly Tribute had learned his fire-making skills by flint and stone; he was really surprised by the change of instruction. Papero sat at a station and, after listening to the instructions, quickly tried to set ablaze his pile of firewood. The friction of the sticks was almost nauseating, but Papero resisted the temptation to back off."

[jimmylost]

Like an imaginary switch had been flipped Mel went back to being 'tough'.

"Or you're following me around to gage my weaknesses and strengths" she said while she worked.

"I didn't miss that we're probably the oldest of the lot here Papero" she said more like herself then anything "and you volunteered, now that may mean you're just a really nice guy, a gentleman..."

Her pile of dry hay began to smoke. She leaned forwarder and gave it a few light breaths. There was an orange glow but it just spread through the hay smoking more then burning. She sighed with just flickered it out. She didn't allow that to get her down switching back to Pystan she started the process over.

"...or maybe not" she continued in a sweet voice"maybe you're quite the opposite"

She through him a quick smile and returned to her sticks and hay which were starting to smoke again.

[Prince Inigo]

Frown. Confusion. A swirl of emotions never before concocted until Melanie 'Mel' Clark appeared in his life. During the process of fire-making by stick friction, Papero had a slurry of questions to rapidly answer mentally and hopefully with correctness, using emotion, trust, and faith altogether. The effect was nauseating as much as the smoke.

He rose his eyes to Mel as she spoke but kept the hands working. Wide smile. "The notion you have spoken of has always crossed my mind. Indeed, the ideal gentleman has been lost in the world of Panem." The orbs in the sockets glowed fiercely, almost like the light of kindness was extinguished. "But whether or not you trust me, Ms. Clark, is entitled to you. Perhaps I am a brute in the inside, or maybe I'm not." His face returned to normal. "Might I ask if you mind sharing your thoughts on the matter, Ms. Clark?"

[jimmylost]

"Hmm I'd say you have yet to do anything to make me think you're anything but what you appear to be" said Mel with the same sweetness.

She once again attempted to coax a flame from the smoking pile in front of her. This time it seemed to catch. She leaned back to admire her work.

"So I have no reason to avoid your company"