reinventing you | torian & reinhardt

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MATTIO
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reinventing you | torian & reinhardt Feb 7, 2024 23:24:25 GMT -5

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Post by MATTIO on Feb 7, 2024 23:24:25 GMT -5

r e i n h a r d t

Last year's celebration of Torian Vice as District Seven's victor (on my first try nonetheless) did not count. The festivities of the quell swindled the waves we crashed upon the Capitol's waters, mitigating them into childish ripples. Two years removed from the Games, now, and there was still so much to do! I knocked on his bedroom door seven times. It was either seven or ninety-four for our secret code, and ninety-four knocks might be too much.

I pull back and forth between the pages of my binder. They held outfit numerous outfit concepts, which was the whole reason I was at his doorstep today. He's no longer the little kid that I dressed up in my first year as head stylist for half of District Seven's entourage. And he's growing, too; that's both the exciting and urgent part. My measurements were constantly getting outdated by the spurts in Torian's height and the muscles he naturally gained and would continue to gain through his teenage years. Even his shoes!

That made today, and the 96th Games as a whole, the perfect opportunity to master the image and aesthetic of Torian Vice. I considered returning to his routes in the fantastical world of the Ninety-Fourth, find a way to bring back his antlers, but it dawned on me that Mackenzie had already taken up that lane. Maybe if it was one of the victors from a different district who were dissociated from the situation, but a fellow victor from Seven? No way. Not only would it make Torian look like a copycat, but it would tarnish my creative reputation as a whole. And that's not something I'm willing to give up.

"Torian? Torian! Hey, bud. You in there? It's almost time for our meeting!" I have a few things in mind for the celebrity Torian Vice if he ever opens the door. Flowers, a bit of light facial makeup combined with matching suits. And if he wants to stick to his intellectual roots, I have a few pairs of glasses ready for him to try on… little Smartie Pants! His IQ would probably cut mine in two. Whatever he wants to do, I'm here to make it happy… so long as he agrees to do something. "I'll be waiting out in the lobby." I made my way to the long sofa and laid each design concept onto the glass table.

Hopefully, Torian will find something he likes!

Python
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reinventing you | torian & reinhardt Feb 8, 2024 22:50:12 GMT -5

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Post by Python on Feb 8, 2024 22:50:12 GMT -5

Torian had to remind himself every hour that this year would be normal. Everything was back to status quo, the games were predictable again, and his bedroom would not be used as a battle stadium for bloodshed. He decorated the walls in visions of district Four, waves crashing along beds of sand. Seven was home, but their emerald jungle version of Seven reminded him too much of his time in the Games. Being in here still made him feel sick. After finally falling asleep, it was no wonder the night passed so quickly, and morning arrived before he could find comfort in a dream.

He was too sleepy to count the knocks, but he was pretty sure it was Reinhardt. His tablet agenda was always at his bedside. If Torian was anything as a victor, it was punctual. He didn't like making promises or creating schedules he could not keep. All he guaranteed to his mentees was that he was working on the perfect equation to obtain victorship. It would be a lifelong journey; there was no one formula when the outlier of luck played its role, but it was something to occupy his time while in the company of ghosts.

"Coming! Give me a minute, sorry." He said it out of pure exhaustion. The room was cold and he sank into some cozy slippers. He had an eyesore of an orange robe to put on because he didn't feel like changing if Reinhardt was just going to throw something else on him. It didn't really matter what state he was in anyway; stylists had the talent of erasing the dark circles under his eyes.

He slid out of his bedroom quietly. "I didn't sleep well last night." The room was haunted by memories. "So, what's this meeting for again?"

MATTIO
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reinventing you | torian & reinhardt Feb 11, 2024 11:34:06 GMT -5

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Post by MATTIO on Feb 11, 2024 11:34:06 GMT -5

r e i n h a r d t

"Coming! Give me a minute, sorry."

Aw, the sweet angelic boy was still sleeping! It amazes me how much someone his age can change within just a week and a half. During his Games tenure, I mean. I organize the designs based on color, putting the warm tones on the near side and the cooler tones on the far one. Now, I suspect he'll gravitate toward the greens and blues, just from what I know about Torian Vice. However, deep down, I want him to pick the red and pink colors. Maybe even sunset! He has the potential to lift the spirits of the Capitol with his intelligence and kindness. It's hard to do that when you wear colors that are so closed off.

"I didn't sleep well last night." Poor angel, again?! I'm too fixated on moving the concepts around the glass to look him over. Sleepless nights are easy to mask with some makeup. "So what's this meeting for again?"

"Well, I was just planning out your aesthetic evolution and wanted to get your oH MY GOD." Once my eyes took the smallest glimpse in Torian's direction, I jumped. Who let him wear THIS?! A most horrific and nauseating orange robe. Like, neon Lorax, neon Garfield. "This." My hands wave over his clothes through the air. "We're going to fix… this."

I usher him to the table, where there are about two dozen outfit designs laid out over the coffee table. "Today, we're picking your Day One look. Last year, we didn't really have time to grow Torian Vice: The Victor. Day One this year is your first big impression! It's going to tell everyone who you are."

The outfits pop off the page. None of them are Capitolite, as that's something Torian could never be, but my hope is that by this time next week, his fashion has matured into a decade long shelf life. "I am a seamster, as you know. I can get whichever one of these you like onto a mannequin within days." I boast my reputation to him, silently repeating the phone number of my favorite discrete seamstress in my head.