Inspiration <OPEN>

Inspiration <OPEN> Sept 5, 2011 13:12:54 GMT -5

Post by gemmawolf on Sept 5, 2011 13:12:54 GMT -5

Constellatia Swift:

I leave the house at eleven o’clock precisely, determined to get some work done today. It has been too long since my last big breakthrough in art, but today will be different! Of all the places in Panem, where else is better than the centre of the Capitol to search for inspiration? The colours, the people – the everyday adventures that steer us through our lives; that is what will be my muse.

I take the lift, taking barely five seconds to reach the ground floor of my apartment’s building, and head left up the street toward the city circle, pad and pencils tucked neatly into my bag. I spy the most ingenious outfits on my way: skin-tight bodysuits decorated in swirling patterns; cone shaped skirts with frills. But copying other designers will get me nowhere; I must find my own way.

It is unusual for me to stray to the outdoors in pursuit of ideas. Shows how desperate I am! I typically stay indoors with a delicately set air-conditioning system to keep me at the perfect temperature, but luckily it won’t be needed today. The wind stirs the leaves of the trees on the avenue, encouraging them to sing their song in a rustling voice. I hear various bits of speech as I weave in between the people. “Did you hear how... completely outrageous... why I wish that it was... ready for another one soon... perhaps we’ll get lucky... I’ve heard that the next Arena will have...”

“Excuse me,” I repeat, slipping through the tight gaps. There aren’t usually so many people before noon. There must be a long-awaited product available today, I think, hurrying on my way. I stop off at my favourite cafe to collect a cup of their exquisite mint coffee and a box of miniature sugar twists. They are supposed to last me three hours at least, but I can’t resist helping myself to one of the pastries as I leave.
I am still licking the sugar off my fingers when I round the corner onto the circle. It is bustling, but not overrun, thank goodness! I search for a bench and succeed, settling down on it with my back to the President’s grand mansion. I set my snacks to the right on the surface and put my bag to the left on the ground. My eyes scan the area for many minutes before I sigh and take a sip of my coffee.

It’s teeming, I say to myself, so why haven’t I already latched onto something? I do hope this morning isn’t going to be a waste. I think back to my vow from earlier on. I will not let myself down! I will break through my creative barrier using anything I can! I am not the sort to quit, I will just try harder. “You’re as stubborn as a mule at times, Stella!” echoes my mother’s voice. But she’s right.

I decide to look further than the citizens and focus on the buildings and statues. Shall I go for modern or traditional? Such a hard question, but one that I ask myself many times; I know the answer: modern. Excentral designer fashion – the clue is in the name, isn’t it? All of my traditional orientated styles have been turned down by my boss Miss Reah.

Reah! The very name itself puts my hairs on end. The one person who I cannot stand. I would rather work for a District 8 worker than that witch – they would know more about fashion, surely! They would know how much work goes into it all. They would appreciate that adding a few days onto a deadline isn’t the end of the world. But they wouldn’t push us all so hard in the first place.

A smile creeps across my face. I cannot pull my imagination away from placing her in the Games, wearing rags, and watching her be attacked by those children. Crying, begging for mercy; spending her final moments in tattered, moth-eaten robes stitched together by talentless Avoxes in a backstreet workshop. No weapons, no sponsors, no hope. But justice. Revenge.

I begin sketching immediately. First I draw out the base model; tall, slim, feminine. Then I add the basics of clothing. Sweeping pieces of fabric, thin materials – perhaps cotton or silk – then apply the crimson patterns. To hell with it! I use the swirls I saw on that bodysuit earlier – all artists copy off each other anyway!

I am nearly finished when I suddenly become aware of a presence on the bench with me. I turn to find someone looking over my hunched shoulder, looking straight at my work. “Can I help you?” I snap, pulling my pad away. How dare they try to steal my ideas! “What do you want?”

(OOC: Sorry if this is too short or difficult to work with, I’m new to the RP world. Please forgive me.

But practice makes perfect.)

Inspiration <OPEN> Sept 24, 2011 9:29:59 GMT -5

Post by Red_Rose on Sept 24, 2011 9:29:59 GMT -5

Ashielle Flysee

[/center]

Ahh. I stretch my arms and bounce out of bed. I'm unusually energized. Then I remember why. It's my day off! I love school and everything but sometimes , a girl just needs a break. I pull out my favorite pair of jeans and an over the shoulder top. As I am doing my hair and makeup , I try to come up with somewhere to go today.

I could go to the mall, but to be honest I don't really like capitol fashion. I can go to get a new piercing , but I'll have too many if I do that. I snap my fingers, I have come up with the perfect plan. It's my day off , so it's supposed to be relaxing , right? So a walk in the city circle is perfect!

I trot down the stairs to the front room. I pick up a pair of white trainers and lace them up. "I'm going out" I yell up the stairs , before I remember that no-one is home. I swing open the door and it hits the wall with a loud bang. It left a dent in the wall. Oops. Remember to tell the workers about that. I remind myself. I slip out into the street. I cross the street , swerving through dozens of black automobiles. In my family , none of us own cars. My dad always said it was because walking makes you skinny , but I think it's because he gets car sick.

I continue to walk until I see the signs pointing to the square. I've been here so many times that I don't rally need them. Regardless , they're good for telling you how close you are to the square. I wander around aimlessly for awhile before ending up in a bookstore. I usually don't have time for reading , but I do enjoy it. I walk over to the shelves and pick up a magazine. Panem's insider guide to the Hunger Games.Cool. I love the games, but not for the reason you might think. The deaths and battles are cool and all but it isn't what draws me in. When I watch the games I look at the layout of the arena and attempt to draw it out. I don't know why I have this fascination; maybe it's because my dad is a gamemaker. Whatever the reason , I can't wait to see this years arena.

I begin to walk up to the cashier , but can't help getting distracted by little doo-dads along the way. I try to tell myself that they are strategically placed to lure me in , but I just can't bring myself to put them down. I pick up pins , erasers , little cameras , a bleeping robot that crawls across the table and my favorite thing : The 50 piece miny map making kit. "It's like they knew I was coming!"I squeal.

I eventually make it to the cashier. I hand him the purchases and dump the amount of coins needed on the counter. I shoulder the bag as I exit the store. I drop by the alteration salon and grab a catalog showcasing the newest procedures. "Bye honey!" She yells behind me. I hold my hand up to show that I heard. Where to next? I ask myself.

Eventually I just end up on a bench beside this girl who is working on art. I crane my neck to get a better look at what she is working on. “Can I help you?” she snaps. Oops. I didn't think watching her would make her angry , but I guess it is a little creepy. “What do you want?”She says. "Oh, I think you misunderstood." I begin. "I was just admiring your art. You're amazing!" I exclaim. "I'm not really much of an artist , but I find myself drawn to art." "Sorry if I creep-ed you out." I say with a sheepish smile. "My name's Ashielle Flysee. What about you?" I say , offering her my hand. Maybe this walk was a better idea than I thought.