the sheep's white fleece // alyssa

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the sheep's white fleece // alyssa Jun 3, 2020 1:11:28 GMT -5

Post by Deleted on Jun 3, 2020 1:11:28 GMT -5

s a m p s o n .

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

They had been moving furniture around since they made it to the stylist station. It was cold in a way, yet so inviting and that may just be the destined tied to this room -- Sampson had worked twenty years to get here, for the status. For the praise, and they still felt so small in their mother's shadow.

The candle sticks on the wall were fake, probably a motif of the district one's elegance. Opulence in its plastic, it was all fake. Sampson couldn't stifle the laugh, the sneer of seeing what they worked so hard for -- district one was built around that whole idea. The careers would volunteer for their own trauma, for the fake jewels and golds and they had been so nervous five minutes ago.

Sardonyx's shadow would always be so much larger than them- they felt small in it, obscure. Pressure on the name and worry in their brows, it was all fake and they still cared so much for that approval. Watched every pregame, talked to Opal and heard of the stories -- they had seen Emmett Le Roux, a victor's cousin and attractive in his own strength.

And, "Jade Morin!"

Wide smile, jacket sleeves, Sampson was waiting there until she was ushered into the room. "Oh, I love your hair," they felt like they covered this eyes until this moment and finally were able to see that dream in Jade Morin. Their first tribute -- would the two of them be so lucky on their first try? Sailor had been.

So they decided, as they saw Jade, that the two of them would win.

"C'mon, come sit babe," they ushered Jade into the seat, eyes dilating as they looked into the bright bulbs in the room. The golden scale drapes of the chair scratched their palms as they pulled it out to welcome their tribute down. Their tribute, it felt so damn nice to say.

What's better than being successful, you know?

"Now, we've got a lot of work to do, but," they began moving away from the chair to pull the tweezers off the counter, "first things first, I think you need a celebrity name, get 'em talking." That, and some fresh eyebrows, they couldn't decide if Jade needed a slit in her right brow or not.

Hmm. They tapped the tweezers on their lips twice, sizing Jade's face up and thinking over everything. Everything at once, before pulling a velvet stool from the side of the station. "Sell your story, what makes Jade the one who lives?"

"Three words, they don't listen any longer than that."

They stare at her eyebrows when they take the seat.

D1f Jade Morin - Alyssaimagine
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the sheep's white fleece // alyssa Jun 5, 2020 2:15:10 GMT -5

Post by D1f Jade Morin - Alyssaimagine on Jun 5, 2020 2:15:10 GMT -5

JADE MORIN

Jade had spent her life fighting and getting dirty, so she didn't exactly feel comfortable wearing pretty things and sitting still. That isn't to say she'd never done it before: she was still from a high class family and had to dress for the occasion whenever there was a special dinner or occasion, and she'd still have short nails or wore bruises on her skin, but that's what fighting earned. Truth be told, Jade liked to look pretty and to stand out. After all, she did want to be famous! She just didn't really enjoy the process and really didn't like the feeling of make up on her skin, of high heels, and being careful about being pretty. She was more comfortable in clothes she could really move in, because she couldn't really land a good hit with a sword in a dress and heels, now could she?

Top that off with her newfound doubts, she was very uncomfortable. She'd trained all of her life for this. Put everything she'd had into it, but now that she was here she was busy wondering if she'd made the wrong decision. She was wondering if she'd really made it for herself. How much was Jade and how much was her family? She wasn't so sure, and she wasn't sure that she ever wanted to figure it out. If she discovered that she'd only entered the Games to gain her family's love, would she still have the strength to carry on and do what needed to be done?

Hands were placed on, and shoved them away for a moment. She'd been too lost for a moment, too focused on her own self reflection that she had lost her refined look. It was just the person ushering her into a room, though, and so she figured that was fine. At least it wasn't the cameras. At least it wasn't another tribute. They couldn't be allowed to see her lose her cool, because she needed to look fierce. She needed to look pretty. And she needed to look absolutely deadly, because she needed sponsors and she needed to kick butt in order to get back home. And that's exactly what she was going to do. So, she took a deep breath, collected herself, and then allowed herself to be brought into the room.

Now, she was the refined warrior she'd always been taught to be. Collected. Refined. Strong. Powerful. That's what she needed to be, if she was going to come back home a Victor and not in a body bag. Her stylist appeared eager, and it was almost too much at once. Their eagerness, her nervousness, the discomfort. It was all almost enough to lose her cool, but she just breathed in and remembered herself. She flashed Sampson a smile instead. All a part, she needed to keep being a good actress if she was going to win enough hearts to make it back home, because she knew brute strength could only get her so far. There weren't enough Career Victors, after all.

Jade followed him over to the chair, watching her steps. Playing her part well, she hoped. She let Sampson look her over without much comment. Partly because she was still processing everything, and partly because she felt they probably needed some silence to do their job right. She crossed her legs at the ankles and set her hands in her lap, and tried her best to just live in the moment, and not in the future. She'd have plenty of time to focus on the Hunger Games when she was in them.

"Make me look stunning," Jade finally said, looking up. "I want them to remember me."

Her eyes were fierce, and she hoped she looked determined. She knew that some Capitolites made horrible looking costumes, and she could only hope that her stylist had some actual style. She would not go out there and be forgotten. She was going to make her mark on the world, because she had to in order to survive. The mask almost cracked for a moment, as thoughts flooded back to home. To Gunner. To Dagger, but she shoved them out of the way. For now, Jade couldn't focus on them. She needed to focus on herself to win.

"The Warrior Princess," she decided that Sampson wasn't so bad. At least, they seemed to realize that she needed to be fierce and remembered. She hoped.

ooc: so, really, i can't make nicknames. like, I even looked up websites for this lol and i am not charismatic or great like jade lol i can't for the life of me so yes this is from xena lol but seriously if you have something better pls tell me because i am lame lol
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the sheep's white fleece // alyssa Jun 6, 2020 0:30:59 GMT -5

Post by Deleted on Jun 6, 2020 0:30:59 GMT -5

s a m p s o n .

"god bless, mother nature!
she's a single woman, too
she took off to heaven,
and did what she had to do!"

"Stunning, yeah?" It was like she pulled on their heart strings, this girl, Sampson felt for her. Nearly wished they had just sat back and let their mother handle this, give Jade Morin that edge, that extravagance. Sampson was no wash, but with life and death dancing on the edge of an eyelash curl and some bangs, they weren't too wrong to be hesitant. "You talk like you're going somewhere, baby!"

They wanted to make her secure, confident, believe in herself like they wanted to; there's a strength in being aware of yourself. Just letting the inhibition go, living while you can -- even if it were two different futures for them. Sampson would just grow old, scary in its own right, but at least it was certain.

And maybe it was just the inexperience, but they believed in Miss Morin, holding the comb and scissors in between their fingers and they pulled back Jade's hair from behind the chair.

"The Warrior Princess."

"The Warrior Princess..."

They made eye contact in the mirror, Jade's doe eyes melting them; this was a girl not just to remember, but to know. Adorable in her own right, she held her hands in her lap and Sampson was intrigued, to say the least. That's good, -- win us over sweet heart, "I like it," smiling something reassuring, it was good that she had an idea of how to portray herself. Something natural, Sampson squinted at the scar at her shoulder and the one spearing its head on the tip. "Okay, Miss Warrior Princess! I see we've got some badass on us," they hoped they weren't cutting too many boundaries.

Besides, it's part of the job to make her flawless. "Are you comfortable showing these off for the interviews? If not, we won't do strapless- or I'll," they scrunched their face thinking over some options, "cover it with some foundation, but showing it off would be kick ass!" They smiled at Jade through the mirror, practically rocking in the way they say it.

"Stunning and badass, that'll get them talking!"

[ don't worry about it, alyssa, you're doing great! ]

D1f Jade Morin - Alyssaimagine
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the sheep's white fleece // alyssa Jun 6, 2020 23:27:57 GMT -5

Post by D1f Jade Morin - Alyssaimagine on Jun 6, 2020 23:27:57 GMT -5

JADE MORIN

How long had she been dreaming about the Hunger Games? For as long as she could remember, the Games had been drilled into her head. At first, it was difficult. Her first time watching the Games, a part of her innocence must have disappeared. She was three years old when her father had placed her in front of the television. It was that years Games, and he had looked at her with that typical stern expression and told her, "You better watch, and you better not look away," At first, Jade hadn't understood the warning: why would she want to look away? She'd been watching the interviews and the Opening Ceremony with everyone else and been as eager as was expected of her. In fact, she'd even had a favorite already: the girl from her own District.

The bloodbath provided the reason behind the warning. There was so much blood and so much chaos it was hard for a three year to really follow. She had found herself wanting to close her eyes to block the scene several times, but she had been aware of her father standing there right behind her. So, she braved on and kept her eyes wide open through it all. The first death really tested her: she felt the nausea, and her small hands grabbed at the dress she had been forced to wear. She had wanted to rip the dress in order to take her mind off of things, but she hadn't. Jade had always been a good daughter and did what was expected of her.

After, her father had looked at her. There was a tiny bit of warmth. More like pride, and he'd nodded. It would be the same gesture she'd get whenever he approved of her actions, and before she ever realized what she was doing, she'd dedicated her life to receiving that bit of attention. It had made her heart soar, but she'd also felt sad. Like she was missing something, she was yearning something that she would never have. Like her father's arms holding her, rocking her, telling her she'd be okay. She hadn't realized that.

Each day of that Hunger Games had been a test for the little girl, and she'd often wake up with nightmares, but now she barely remembered the initial hardship, but it is partially what made her who she was today. Through all of those years, she had become more and more desensitized from the violence she had watched. She would have no issue with breaking bones, or cutting through skin if need be during training. In fact, she'd even grown to love it. And now, it all led to this moment. Her sitting in a chair. Her being prepared to look pretty before the crowds. And then, she'd be sent into an arena to fight for her life.

And she really might not make it out of there alive. Like when she was just a little girl, her hands grabbed at her dress and she held it tight. It was brief, for just a moment. Coping, so she could come back to reality and face what awaited her. She took a deep breath, and forced herself to pay attention to Sampson. Right now, only they existed, because right now only they could give her the strength she needed to go on. They'd make her look stunning, and the Capitol would throw their money at her feet. She would make it out alive, then, right?

It was a strange smile. Half real, half lie. She'd been trained to smile, to act, and even when her life was falling apart at the seams, it's what she held onto. Half real, because Sampson's reply was what she'd wanted to hear. It made her heart beat against her chest, made her feel just a little stronger. "That's right," she agreed. She was going somewhere. "I'm going to come back a Victor." And she almost believed her own words. Almost.

Slowly, a real smile emerged. The more Sampson spoke, the more confidence Jade had. The more she approved of the Capitol's choice of stylist. They were perfect. They were exactly what she needed, if she were going to make it out alive. That strength. The mentors weren't as helpful. They were obviously scarred from their arenas, and they were more doom and gloom. Less hope, and right now she needed hope if she was going to make it back home. If she lost her confidence, wouldn't she only be placed in a coffin?

Her grin was completely real when she gazed up at Sampson. "Oh, I've got no problem with showing. Let's give them a sight they can't forget."

Jade Morin was going to be remembered, and that was final.

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the sheep's white fleece // alyssa Jun 8, 2020 4:21:23 GMT -5

Post by Deleted on Jun 8, 2020 4:21:23 GMT -5

s a m p s o n .

"god bless, mother nature!
she's a single woman, too
she took off to heaven,
and did what she had to do!"

As Jade grew ever more lovely, Sampson felt their stomach tense. That familiar unease, their mother had always told them not to get too attached, whispered the words Pillar Fray and ushered the topic along -- it seemed so difficult now that they played with her hair. Not to get attached, how silly that may be- it seemed like such a silly loss to wager.

Jade would die, and Sampson would never have the chance again to hear her thoughts. Learn her story so organically while the cameras weren't rolling; that was the beauty in this, right? They'd take their own credit where they may, the glitz and glam definitely played its own part, but without Jade, it was just another garment on another catwalk. They tried to keep it that simple, it'd make the whole situation easier to digest.

And if she had wound up winning, Sampson would feast on those spoilers and say they truly cared something passionate. That they played their part in seeing a star be made, and they felt it in the way she talked. Tributes would lie and make themselves into whatever gave themselves the best chance at winning, but Sampson took those smiles genuinely, naively. They so wanted it to be real, for the both of them.

Even if she would die in a week.

It felt strange, almost as if they were prepping her for the casket. Her own funeral beckoning and come hell and high water, they wouldn't tell exactly when that was until her last breath. It could be a week, two weeks- years from now. They didn't want to think about Jade growing old; Sampson couldn't even picture themself growing old. Like they'd ever show it, pressing those wrinkles and greys back into place just as they had begun planning to do with Jade's eyebrows. She said those thoughts out loud, like a chorus of spoken hymn, "I'm going to come back a Victor."

It warmed their heart, feeling that radiant courage.

"That's right, baby!"

They moved on from the girl's scars as she talked about them, grabbing tweezers from the station's basket. She just lit that fire under their feet in a way Sampson could only hope to reciprocate -- they both needed each other in a way. Jade needed every opportunity to stand out, to be the one out of those twenty four, and Sampson needed her to as well. They tried to imagine how Bambi and Emmett had been discussing across the hall, the way she'd pamper him in a decade's worth of growth and all they had was a last name.

Well, that and a shit ton of passion. That's two things you can't just will into existence, "you tell 'em, let them see that skin, all of it," they pulled the stool from beside the station, wielding tweezers like a weapon. Almost frighteningly so, they sit eye level to Jade nearly- just an inch or two taller. They took note of how those bangs would look on close ups, how they'd need to tuck down strays and splits, "oh your eyelashes are beautiful," they practically gasp in how their pitch raises.

"That's good, you've got good face!" Sampson places their hands softly on her chin, turning her to face left and right, "good portraits!" Near symmetrical, "when the camera's are on you, remember your left is your good angle," raised slightly higher, a tighter brow bone and it makes the eyes look bigger as well. They took a slow breath, trying to visual just what they were doing before altering anything.

Okay, "now, try not to flinch," probably the worst advice Sampson's given so far. they'd only pluck enough to taper the ends and clean up a little, "let's practice your interview some while we're here- what's your family like? Anybody lovers," they say, mocking Caesar almost. It was no secret that their mother had been vying for that job for ages, and not too many people were opposed.

"Any dogs?!" They scoff as they pluck the first eyebrow hair..

D1f Jade Morin - Alyssaimagine
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the sheep's white fleece // alyssa Jun 11, 2020 22:05:43 GMT -5

Post by D1f Jade Morin - Alyssaimagine on Jun 11, 2020 22:05:43 GMT -5

JADE MORIN

Jade hadn't anticipated liking their stylist. She had been sure that everything inside the Capitol would be fake: smiles, relationships, interviews. All of it fake. It's what she had expected. Her parents wanted Capitol connections, of course, because they could make their lives better. Know someone from the Capitol high enough up? Maybe a crime could be...overlooked. Or better prices for, or just more money overall. At the very least, high up connections would mean more influence within the District and her family cared about that sort of thing. Jade wasn't stupid, though. She may love the Games, she may have been successfully brainwashed in so many ways, and she may even want to be famous, but she knew things. Like how silly the Capitol could be. How fake so much of it looked. She may not know everything yet, but she was pretty sure everything in the Capitol was superficial and fake. That the people in the Capitol weren't actually real compared to the people back in the Districts. After all, why make something featuring kids killing each other a glam product? Dressing them all up nice and fancy and treating them like celebrities, when only one of them was going to walk of this thing a celebrity.

All others would be forgotten, and Jade wasn't having that. The very idea of being forgotten was enough to make her shudder. If she died, who would remember her? Gunner, and Dagger she hoped, but the rest of her family? She'd be scribbled off the family register and just a source of shame to her own family, even though she had made it here. That wasn't enough for the Morin household: she had to make it back home a Victor. The people at the capitol? She'd be forgotten, overshadowed by the Victor of the Quell. She'd be nothing. And she would not have that. If she was going to be in these Games, she was going to be remembered. She was going to so fabulous that absolutely no one could forget her. Even if she did lose and her memory forgotten with her parents, Jade would ensure the rest of the world remembered her name: Jade Morin.

She'd rather be remembered a Victor, however. She'd love to make it back, and she'd have to thank Sampson when she did, because it was them who helped bring back some of that strength and fierceness that she'd so desperately needed. Someone who realized she was fierce, that she was worthy, or at least she hoped that they did. She hoped that it wasn't an act, and that they were a better actor than she'd ever be. With slight uncertainty, she glanced at her stylist and tried her very best to read them, but she could never be sure, but this was the Capitol. The home of insane prosperity and people so lost from the rest of the world that they couldn't possibly be real. Not in the way that she was.

At first, Sampson's words sent a rush of warmth through her body, making her slightly flush. They believed in her. Supported her. She could come out of this alive - then reality settled in, making her shoulders slink, her head lower just slightly. Why did this feel like a funeral at the same time? Did Sampson think they were prettying her up only to die? Was that the truth of it? Was she really going to die? Her hands grasped onto her dress, stroking the fabric, trying her best not to focus on that train of thought. Just the fabric. Jade couldn't die in the Hunger Games, because she had so much life to live. She'd never be famous dead, now would she? The Morin name would become a mockery. She would be a mockery. Not a lioness. Not fierce. No flames. No glitter. No glam. Just a name in the sky, relief for those who did survive.

Jade couldn't go out like that. She needed so desperately to survive and discover life was so different than she'd experienced so far. She needed warmth, love, and all those things that she wouldn't admit to needing. A mother and father who loved her so desperately they'd be crying because she was in the Games. If she were to dig deeper, she'd realize that she was jealous of those tributes who had sad families back at home. They didn't realize just how good they had it, when she had nothing but a cold family. She needed so much more than that, but she wouldn't dig deeper and she wouldn't allow herself to realize that, because it very well might break her when she needed strength more than realization. That could come later. Had to come later, because she had to make it out alive. She took a deep breath, and tried her best to settle her thoughts.

Back to the real world. With Sampson. With glam. Not blood and death. At least not yet. For a little longer, she could breath knowing she would still be alive for sure. Absolutely for sure, at least for these days before the Games. She listened to their words, she hung onto them, listening so desperately, hoping for warmth, for friendship, something genuine in a place that was all fake. She didn't realize she was hanging onto the words, listening to each, paying close attention, but for some time not saying a thing. Not at all.

Allow the compliments to fall on her. Make her feel good. Make her feel pretty. Know that she was doing a good job with her part. She needed that much. A smile, only slightly real. For a moment, she almost nodded in response to their advice. Good angle, understood, but she remembered they were working on her and she'd only make their job harder. "Left. Understood." She flashed him a grin, hoping they knew that she did, in fact, understand. And didn't want to disturb their work, either. She listened to their warning, but she hadn't needed it. She'd wondered why the warning was there at all. No flinching. She'd been through so much worse than some eyebrow plucking. That was nothing at all. Her brother had hurt her much worse than that.

At their questions, she perked up. At least a little bit, and she'd turn to them and show another real grin. "The truth or what I'm going to tell the interviewer?" She asked them, real amusement dancing in her eyes. She'd make up a story of a nice, sweet family. A good girl, from a good family. Not the truth, because no one wanted to hear that nonsense. "The story where my family will forget I ever existed if I die, or the one I will tell the capitol about where I spend my time on family picnics basking in the sun?" There was some pain hidden in there if one were to look close enough, but the humor wasn't faked, either.

"Lover? I'll tell them I'll have plenty when I get back," A real laugh escapes, then. She'd never even dreamed of a lover before. Not between training and her own life. A lover. Maybe. One day.