primadonna girl

Anon was stunned and almost offended by what she said about independence. It’d taken him over two decades to get his independence, to be free from people who wanted nothing more with him than to make him a lab rat. Nothing about independence was overrated to him, but he couldn’t quite find the words for it and just stared at her in shock for a little while. “I’m…I’m not.”

“Hm. Really? Where’re you from? Maybe you just need someone to educate you.” She decided, nodding to herself.

Chip immediately shifted away from the woman and then quickly looked around the corner of the statue to see if his stylist was still around. “M-my styl-list,” he explained as briefly as he could, still not certain the man wasn’t lurking around somewhere. “H-he’s on a rh-rhinst-stone r-rampage.”

“Well, can ya blame him?” She giggled, “Rhinestones are the key to every great outfit, y’know. It’ll make you shine on stage, though if the light hits them at just the wrong angle, you could be blinding the audience. So, there’s always a risk.”

“Um… no, thank you,” she said, knitting her eyebrows together a little as she frowned. She had no idea what this woman was about to do. The best she could hope for was to look at least 75% the same as she did now. It wasn’t likely, but she could hope. “Or brown,” Winnie added softly, running her fingers through the ends of her hair. “I like it the way it is. Did you… I mean, do you have any ideas? For us? What we’re wearing?” 

“Hmph, probably for the best. Wouldn’t want it to be too bright in the arena, not good for hiding and such, y’know.” She muttered, more to herself than the girl. Callie was the type of person who needed to utter her thought processes out loud, to convince herself they made sense. “Of course I do.” She laughed, “You’ll have to wait and see the finished product, but I think you’ll like it. The colour scheme: gold. I know that’s usually One’s colour, but they can’t have all the fun.” She explained, stretching her arms in front of her as she announced the colour. “It’s almost all done, I think. Just need to get your measurements and such. If you have anything you want me to add though, just say the word.”

“Oh, um…” Winnie looked around, as if hoping someone could rescue her from the measuring and styling. Being the center of attention, or being fussed over, was basically her worst nightmare. “Okay, I guess. I don’t have a choice, do I?” Winnie reluctantly took a quick sip of her tea and smoothed her dress out. “You’re not going to die my hair blue or anything, right?” 

“Well, I mean, not unless you want to go out there in some ill-fitting potato sack.” Callie giggled. She needed the tributes to look good. If she messed things up in the first year, she’d lose her job, and she couldn’t afford to do that. She’d worked so hard for this, and people were counting on her presence within the Tower. It was vital, she was sure of that much. “Wasn’t planning on it. Don’t think you’d look quite right with blue hair. Maybe lilac, or silver. I can picture that.”

Anon flipped to the next page as he listened to the girl, but he was unable to focus on both and instead opted to focus solely on the conversation. “It’s fun to be independent, I think,” he reasoned. He rubbed his stomach a few times as he recalled some bad experiences with takeout. “And it doesn’t always sit well.”

“Independence is overrated.” She lied. Even though being her own person, being ‘free’ was just about the only thing Callie ever concerned herself with, Callie enjoyed disagreeing with people. It often threw them off, which was always fun. “It does if you know the right places to go. You’re clearly just not well versed in Capitol cuisine.”

Chip’s heart suddenly skipped a beat and he felt breathless for a moment before he realized it was just some random girl who’d spotted him. “N-n-no one,” he muttered, but he contradicted his own words when he glanced around the statue and then quickly ducked back behind it upon seeing his stylist still roaming around.

“Hmm, I don’t believe you.” Callie decided, before ducking behind the statue along with the Victor. “So, what are we dealing with? Crazy ex? Rabid fan? Anyone with a slither of authority?” She asked, peering around the statue to try and figure out who -- or what -- was causing him so much distress. 

chariot outfit 121 ; rowan nightfall

though both of calliope’s tributes this year are considered ‘criminals’, they are, first and foremost, performers. she chose to draw on this aspect when designing outfits for the tributes. the shirt rowan wears has been embroidered with musical designs, and is to be worn under the gold suit. the bracelet rowan wears is made of guitar string. gold is the colour most often associated with victory, but is also associated with love, compassion, and courage, something she knows rowan and winnie embody.

chariot outfit 121 ; winnie sycamore 

though both of calliope’s tributes this year are considered ‘criminals’, they are, first and foremost, performers. she chose to draw on this aspect when designing outfits for the tributes. the dress shown has been embellished with a musical design, and the bracelet winnie wears is one made of guitar string. gold is the colour most often associated with victory, but is also associated with love, compassion, and courage, something she knows winnie and rowan embody.

Winnie jerked out of her calm trance as someone grabbed her. She wasn’t shy about physical touch, but anything unexpected drew her away from trying to remember exactly how to breathe. Surprises were not a vital part of Winnie Sycamore’s balanced lifestyle. 

“Oh, um…” she steadied herself, hoping not to spill her tea on the very excited woman who all but dragged her away from the bewildered Avox. “I-yes. Winnie, um, yes. That’s me. It’s nice to meet you, ma’am. Does that mean Rowan’s been fitted already?” she asked, her eyes wide. “Can I see him now? Again, I mean? If he’s all done?” She’d abandon her cup of tea as fast as she could if she could be with Rowan again, the one thing here that made her feel safe. Definitely more safe than this woman made her feel, anyways.

“Mmhm, he’s all done honey, but it’s your turn now.” She explained with an enthusiastic grin. “Don’t worry, you can go back to holding hands or whatever as soon as I’m done. It won’t take long, I promise.” She giggled, practically jumping up and down at this point. Though she loathed the Games and the position these kids were in, she was determined to do everything she could to make this as enjoyable as possible for them. And, for Callie, that meant helping them look as good as they possibly could. A new dress or hairstyle was always enough to pull her out of any kind of funk. 

Being in the Capitol was something Rowan did not want to celebrate. There was no fanfare with district ten’s arrival, no smiles at the crowds of people wanting to get an early look at the two underdogs, just a stoic and neutral face. He was here for Winnie, he wasn’t here for any Capitol bullshit. But as he entered the lobby, he heard something that made him beyond angry. There it was, Winnie’s song, playing over the speakers, sung by someone who wasn’t her. It made him so pissed off that he didn’t look where he was going, completely walking into someone or some wall somewhere, he didn’t quite know. “That’s my bad, got distracted for a moment there, hope I didn’t cause any fatal injuries or anything.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it, honey.” Callie waved it off, managing to keep her balance despite the eight inch stilettos she sported. She’d just assumed that he was put off by the grandeur of the Tribute Tower lobby, unaware of the significance of the song playing in the background. “Pretty overwhelming, isn’t it? I just stared at the walls for a solid ten minutes before I went upstairs the first time I was here.”

Chip was in hiding. Since his stylist heard he was back in the Tower, he’d been seeking Chip out to try to force the boy to try out some new hairstyles that he had no patience to sit through. When Chip spotted the stylist from across the Tower, he quickly ducked behind a sculpture and stood as still as he could as he tried not to be spotted. It was day one and he was already exhausted.

“Hiya.” Callie giggled as she spotted the mentor ducking behind a statue. She was leaning against the wall next to the sculpture, a fruity cocktail in one hand, as she twirly the long, twisted straw with the other. “Who’re you hiding from?”

“I never realized that cooking actually required so many things…” he said to no one in particular as he flipped through the used cookbook he’d bought the week before. He’d been determined to try to learn some new things to cook, but so far he was just overwhelmed and spent all his breaks and free time trying to decipher the worn pages of the book.

“Hmm.” Calliope looked up as the man spoke, peering at the book he was flipping through. “Wouldn’t know, honestly. Never cooked before. There’s plenty of great places to get take out here. I mean, why bother?”

The Tower was more than Winnie ever could’ve imagined. More beautiful, more intense, more crowded, more loud. As much as part of her wanted to cling to Rowan or cry into her pillow, there was another part of her that just needed to walk. She couldn’t go out into the fields the way she used to back home, to run her anxiety off surrounded by cattle and sheep, but in the Capitol, they didn’t seem to admire open air or green space.

Also, it was winter. And it was freezing. The knit sweater over her dress that kept her warm in Ten did not work here in the Capitol where they actually had snow. 

The best she could do was get a cup of tea and just hang around the outer walls of the lobby, until Rowan was finished being measured for his costume and could be back at her side. It felt awkward, being alone here. She never felt fully complete without him. An Avox approached with a tray of drinks and she shook her head. “Oh, no thanks,” Winnie said softly. “I’ve got something, already.” Turning to the person nearby, she waved them forward, hoping she wasn’t standing in their way. “Oh, sorry about that. You go ahead.”

This was her first real Games as a stylist. With real tributes. Who weren’t dead, not yet at least. With little word from the Black Eagles as of late, Callie took her calling to be throwing herself wholeheartedly into her work. She needed to look the part of some Games-crazed Capitolite, at least to the outside world. She’d finished fitting Rowan for his outfits, and had sent him on his way before seeking out Winnie. 

Despite herself, Calliope was actually excited about everything that was going on. She had a chance to do some real good for these kids, to help bring them home, like she’d been helpless to do with her sister and countless others. Recognising a girl in the lobby as the one from the Reaping video, talking to someone she didn’t recognise. Painting a beaming smile on her face, she rushed forward and took Winnie by the arm, not particularly caring about personal space. “Thank god I found you. Winnie, right? I’m Calliope, your stylist.”

Anon was starting to get extremely warm in his onesie, though he did love just how comfortable it was. After the ease of preparation and fun compliments he got the last time he wore a onesie, he decided to do it again. After pawing at the hood and shaking his head around, he managed to get his face totally free and looked around. “Do you know where the nearest place to get some water is?” he asked the nearest person.

“The bar, probably?” Calliope offered, sipping her cocktail through a straw. “They always give out water at these types of things, stop people from getting too drunk and getting sick all over the floor. Ruins the atmosphere if that happens, y’know.” She explained, before looking the man up and down, “Bold outfit choice, by the way.”

“Yes, I did pick out Kahente’s headstone,” Satine confirmed to the small group of sponsors she had gathered. “It was important to me that she and her father had somewhere nice to rest.” Two small paws gently scratched at her leg just above her ankle, and she looked down at Kismet. “If you’ll excuse me,” she told the sponsors, “I think my dog needs to go outside.” With a little wink, she bent to pick him up and turned towards the door, bumping into somebody and immediately clutching Kismet tighter to her chest. “I’m so sorry. Are you alright?”

How anyone could not be having fun at an event like this was simply baffling to Calliope. Taking a flute of champagne from a passing avox, Callie made her way through the crowd, dancing along to the beat of the music with whoever caught her fancy. She had no one to mourn here, she hadn’t even started when her tributes were still alive, so, overall, she just wished people would lighten up a bit. She was weaving her way between one group of people and another when she bumped into Satine, “Oh, I’m fine! You have a dog!” She grinned, already leaning forward to pet the dog. 

Lysetta Prior’s outfit for the 120th Victor’s Ball