miranda tern (fins) wrote in colosseum, @ 2014-02-17 10:02:00 |
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Entry tags: | ! 56th games, - arena, tribute: 56th aramis rosegold, tribute: 56th miranda tern |
WHO: Miranda Tern and Aramis Rosegold
WHAT: Gay or Capitolite, Part 2
WHEN: Day 8
WHERE: Career Camp
"You're not interested in girls," Miranda said bluntly, looking up from checking the cut on her arm. It wasn't a question as much as a statement (the Vellum Spry Himself adoration had gotten a little obsessive from D1, lately), and she didn't bother waiting for Aramis to confirm or deny it before she continued talking. "But how good are you at telling if other people are?" She grinned, peeling open a can of salmon and sniffing it, cat-like, before she began to eat the fish, piece by piece. "Because I have a test case." Aramis, on the other hand, wrinkled his nose at the smell of fish -- thank God he wasn't from Four -- and Miranda's initial statement. Once again, Pecan's reminder that he had to make sure he didn't alienate his mostly female fanbase by being too obviously in love only with other boys flashed through his mind, but as per usual, he hadn't been able to get a word in before Miranda barrelled forward with her second question and its accompanying proposal. He'd heard this one before, though he simply gave the girl a cheeky smile instead of sighing. 'I'm good at everything.' In his hands, he played around with the throwing knife he had named Spry. 'And I never said I wasn't interested in girls -- the Capitol's won me over there. Isn't that right, ladies?' He winked at the unseen cameras around them, as if all the girls and women watching him were in on a special secret of his or implied to be the One for him once he was a victor. Miranda actually stopped eating the fish and stared at him in mild disgust. "Can you pay attention to me and not the camera for two fucking seconds?" she asked with mild curiosity. "I'm sure they're watching, but I've heard everyone really likes it when you act natural-like…" She imitated an exaggerated wink at the sky. It looked like she had an eye tic. "Our D4 escort wears more perfume and hair gel than I do, but he says he has a girlfriend." Air quotes accompanied the word says. "I don't know much about the Capitol, but I assume it's not hard to like, find a fake girlfriend, right?" Aramis rolled his eyes, but fluttered his eyelashes one last time for all the women (and men) watching him on the other side of the camera before turning his attention back to Miranda. 'Why would anyone pretend to have a girlfriend? And what's wrong with perfume and hair gel?' He didn't even know who the escort for Four was exactly, though he furrowed his brow as he tried to remember what he looked like. Miranda rolled her eyes back. "Nothing in principle, but Ianto smells like my Aunt Calypso," she said boredly. "Men don't wear floral perfume in D4, anyway. Do you use perfume and hair gel? Is it weird not to have it? And I guess there's no real reason he would be lying, but I just thought his photos looked a lot like those ones where you hire people to be in pictures for you." Well, District 1 was known for its perfume -- both Pecan and Vellum's families were involved in that particular industry -- but it wasn't as if the Capitol allowed anyone from the district to keep much of anything they produced for themselves. Sort of like how even though his mother was a vintner, Aramis only really had wine during the annual wine festival where they chose One's pool of potential volunteers. 'I don't use either -- my hair's perfect the way it is.' Or, well, it used to be, along with however he smelled -- after a week in the arena and even after taking an impromptu bath in the whirlpool trap the other day, he was sure he was as disgusting as he felt. But he was probably still better-looking than everyone else in the arena, even with half of his face torn apart, and he ran a hand through his hair anyway. 'Anyway, now that I think I know who you're talking about, I'm sure your escort isn't into men. It's hard to tell with Capitol sorts, but I'm certain about this one.' "Fine," Miranda sighed, shoulders slumping good-naturedly. "Ianto, have fun with your 'girlfriend.'" She ran her fingers carelessly through her own hair, which felt grimy and greasy to the touch, though she admittedly wasn't that bothered by it. (Multi-day fishing trips, after all, didn't have Capitol showers that spewed perfumed foam). "But honestly, Aramis…" her voice took on a holier-than-thou tone. "I'm gonna tell you as a friend. Your hair looks like shit." |