colors - stripped. talon & sailor, vt.

new

« Prev
1
Next »

✨ zozo.
Retired Staff

8,205 POSTS

Pronouns: she/her
last seen Nov 22, 2024 15:02:31 GMT -5

bloomtodeath

colors - stripped. talon & sailor, vt. May 16, 2022 0:42:00 GMT -5

Post by ✨ zozo. on May 16, 2022 0:42:00 GMT -5

"...I'm not a boy."

Sailor sits up, narrows her eyes at the screen.

"Huh," she remarks, pointing half-heartedly to someone beside her without taking her eyes off of the screen, "Write that down."

When nobody moves she turns and scoffs, already annoyed at 10 past 8 in the morning. Grabbing a sketchbook and an eyeliner pencil from her bag, a sigh proceeds her next words.

"Mama always said if you want it done, do it yourself!"

She knew it was a bad idea to hire interns halfway through college. They just stare and gawk, either at her or the television screen. One of them asked for a POLA selfie on Day 2 of the programme and she just rolled her eyes and walked away - there had to be a better way to recruit new kids into the fashion world. Sailor made a mental note, then decided to jot it down next to her previous one.

1. Talon - not a boy.

2. Call Sampson ab idea 4 intern competi

"Argh fuck!" she curses under her breath as the point of the pencil snapping under the weight of her furious penmanship meant to grace skin, not paper. Throwing the damn thing on the floor with a groan, Sailor should have known. She was always a liquid eyeliner kind of girl anyway.

"What do we pay you lot for, sitting and looking pretty? No! Go be useful -

"Um, actually, we don't get paid-" one of them dares to pipe up, which made Sailor frown.

"Really? Not a dime? Man, what the hell!"

Twenty-something and already over this day, she reaches for the pencil to write down 3. Pay these kids subconsciously only to remember the fate of her writing tool. "Argh fuck fuck fucker!" again, she throws the pad down to join the pencil on the carpeted floor and turns to the one kid that had dared open their mouth to give her some half-useful information: the best she'd received all week.

He looks, understandably, terrified of her.

"Kid, go upstairs and fetch me pencils that aren't meant for your face yeah? You'll get a free coffee for your trouble."

She tries a smile, from the look on his face far too forced. But he turns on his heel and obliges, scurrying out of the room in the blink of an eye.

Sailor curls into herself on the couch, eyes flickering back up to the television to study Talon Grey. The other interns shrink away, busying themselves with sketches and re-threading the sewing machines despite being ready an hour ago. She was never good at making friends when she was a fresh adult, let alone now. Sailor decides she'll do what she always did: throw her efforts into her work instead.

"And can someone call Zen Minokato? We've got work to do."

⚓︎

And there they are. Sailor's been doing this long enough to know the drill, a far cry from the nervous girl who Beck had discovered having a panic attack in the men's room during the 85th. Talon Grey has the face of a ghost but their eyes are just like Beck's - haunted.

Zen had given her that one golden piece of advice about Beck that she carries through to this day: you need to dress him in a way that will help him feel comfortable, like himself on the stage. And Talon had told her - told the world, sheepish smile. Desert skies stretching behind him.

"...but I'm not a girl either."

So she smiles, eyes shining, and stands to greet Talon when they enter the room.

Her voice is bright, brimming with excitement. "I'm so glad you're here," gentle - far gentler than she is with her interns, although coffee boy stands to the right in front of rows and rows of clothing racks, now paid in more than just free caffeine.

"First things first - let's figure out what you like, huh? Tell me what you gravitate towards. There's no right or wrong answer."

Sailor gestures and coffee boy steps to the side to reveal beautiful garments hung across the entire spectrum of fashion. Masculine, feminine, leathers and lace and gowns and pants, button-up shirts and see-through blouses. Jewels and wrist-watches, boots and heels, everything & anything the interns could procure after days spent on telephones with designers and outlet stores across the city.

"Go on," gentle, eager. "Take a look!"

“and men said that the blood of the stars flowed in her veins.”

Arrows
Retired Staff

3,236 POSTS

Pronouns: He/Him
last seen May 23, 2023 16:50:31 GMT -5

your resident blonde bisexual boy

colors - stripped. talon & sailor, vt. May 28, 2022 22:23:32 GMT -5

Post by Arrows on May 28, 2022 22:23:32 GMT -5

t a l o n .

"you are weak
but not foolish
you have learned
how to die."

"It's called a what?"

My eyes blink in a small spurt of clear confusion. I haven't been out of the hospital for more than an hour before one of the Escorts is in my room ushering me onto some style-thing. There's still a dull ache in the back of my head from a literal blade and they are already sending me to try on clothes? What else did I expect? I guess the Capitol can't be kept waiting too long for their newest- I feel myself kind of tense up. I still don't feel like I can even call myself that yet.

"A fashion evaluation. It's with Sailor to make sure you look your absolute best going forward. Now come on, we've got a tight schedule to keep."

I was never good at keeping a schedule before so I don't know why they expect me to be good at staying on time now, but I guess I'll listen. Anything to make them stop pestering me for at least a little while. Who knows, maybe I'll enjoy the evaluation. I've always really enjoyed fashion. I'd spend hours as a kid inside of the Alibaster's clothing store with Grace trying on anything and everything. Maybe this will feel a bit like that, a bit more... normal?

I don't really know where I was expecting them to take me, but all the way out of the Training Center definently wasn't it. The amount of steps they take in order to keep me under a guise of secrecy seems surreal. A car is waiting for us in an underground parking facility surrounded by a squad of peacekeepers and not another soul in sight. Even the windows are completely tinted black so that no one can see inside. I suppose since it's before my crowning ceremony they can't risk anyone seeing me before the big moment. I don't say a single word, I just get in and wait for the ride.

The drive is short and most of it I spend looking out of the window completely tuning out the endless drabble of my Escorts. They're busy talking about punctuality and important events while I am lost watching the alien world around me. This is the first time I've really been out and about in the Capitol. From the fashion to the skyscraping buildings, everything is like a mystery to me. So much wealth and extravagance all while they watch kids kill kids on national television. I guess I do like some of the tattoos I see though.

Eventually the car stops and I'm jolted slightly by the lack of motion. Eyes darting around, it takes me a minute to calm myself down. I'm still used to the movement of the mechs, stopping almost always meaning there is violence ahead. I wonder how long I'll be like this. I wonder how often I'll keep looking over my shoulder. I wonder how many nights I'll sleep in the same curled up ball like how I slept in the arena. I wonder whether I'll actually ever feel fully human again or if a part of me will always be partially a machine.

I'm saved from my thoughts by the door being opened for me and a swift, guarded, walk inside of a nearby building. The air smells sweet inside as I'm led through a hallway full of different portraits and pictures of models in poses. That's not all though, my eyes even catch several shots of previous District Four tributes like Beck hanging in their own places. There's even a picture of Parker and I on the chariot illuminated by the deep sea inspiration of Sailor. There is beauty in the darkness, I think that was the theme.

Another door is opened for me and I find myself in front of the woman herself and an endless sea of color. My eyes don't know what to focus on as they bounce from the intern, to Sailor, to the racks and racks of clothes, back to Sailor, back to the intern. Luckily Sailor gives me something to anchor on as she speaks up before I even have to say a word. "I'm so glad you're here."

There's a softness in her voice, gentle like the sea when the waves are subdued. A piece of me wonders what part of her is happy. Is it the stylist with a winning tribute to gain stardom from or something more genuine, more human than that? I know it might be naïve after living through what the Capitol can do to people, but I do think it's the latter. Even for the parade she spoke to Parker and I as equals, wanted our input. She didn't have to do that, most didn't.

"First things first - let's figure out what you like, huh? Tell me what you gravitate towards. There's no right or wrong answer."

Oh fuck. My eyes shift back to the clothes as a singular gulp swallows harshly down my throat. I don't know where to even begin there are so many options. Although there is something else tingling in electric current beneath my skin: excitement. Isn't this it? Isn't this the exact kind of expression of myself I fought for? It has to be or why else would there my a small smile on my face?

"A lot- I like a lot." I confess stepping towards the first set of racks, my fingers fluttering through the clothes. I trust myself though as my hands begin to poke and prod through several sets, several options. I can see the turtle necks off on another rack, an absolute yes. I can see some furs and leathers that are already catching my eyes, but I stop at another rack first. My hands pull out a light lavender dress, not tight fitting but naturally flowing. Something sharp stings a little from my memories.

"My dad smacked me the first time he caught me wearing one." I don't look away from the dress, I don't really want to see her reaction. "He tore it to shreds in front of me. I just wanted to be beautiful, but he wanted me to be handsome." Something of a sigh looses itself from my mouth. "I never understood why I couldn't be both."