concierge: (Default)
[personal profile] concierge
Any entries earlier than this were pre-reboot.
designerebel: (cinna § 73)
[personal profile] designerebel
[ OPTION ONE ]

Ask and you shall receive. It's been months ago that Cinna has requested an area to work in. The hotel has given him a space on the first floor near the cafe. Supplies have been gathered and the space redone to accommodate Cinna and his craft. That's right, there's officially a clothier's shop in the hotel. Cinna is indeed in his element.

Upon first entry to the shop it looks very unassuming and casual. There's the mixed aroma of freshly brewed tea and coffee as well as some pastries brought over from the cafe. The front half of the shop holds everyday clothes that seem to be the norm of what most of the people in the hotel wear, things like tees and sweaters and jeans and shorts. In the middle of the shop there's a round dark mahogany table with three high-backed plush armchairs around it. The armchairs are cushioned black with golden embellishments. Toward the back is where Cinna's influence shows through more prominently; clothing, both everyday and formal with unique and futuristic flares and touches. It's Couture at its finest. There are tall, large mirrors in the back as well as dressing rooms.

It should also be noted that as he has befriended both Milady and Aramis, there is attire befitting both men and women from their time period in Paris. Beautiful gowns and carefully stitched shirtsleeves and doublets. Cinna is always accommodating and will take special orders all day every day.

Outside of the space is a bracket with a swinging sign placard bearing the shop's name in an elegant golden script: Design by Cinna.

Cinna can almost always be found at the mahogany table in the center of the shop, sitting in one of the chairs with material draped over his lap and needle and thread in hand. He'll welcome anyone to his new shop. Please feel free to stop by!


[ OPTION TWO ]

Oftentimes Cinna can be found in the conservatory, sitting among the plant life and sketching new designs. It's peaceful in there. He'll greet and chit chat with most anyone who happens upon him.

However, one day he opens a door that he thinks goes to his hotel room but finds himself in the outdoors instead. The environment is boisterous and loud, crowds walking through fairways and strange music in the air. The sky is blue overhead, with the occasional cloud here and there. There are shops and tents and big contraptions with some kind of transport on them that has people screaming as they zip over rails.

Cinna, coming from Panem, has never seen anything like it. A man comes by and offers him a stick with a ball of pink cotton on top of it. What is it? He sees someone else with something similar eating the cotton. So he pinches some off and puts it in his mouth. The sugary sweetness surprisingly melts in his mouth.

Certainly, a place such as this can't be anything bad, right? Cinna is off to explore the amusement park.

May. 4th, 2016 07:09 pm
silenttrainbaby: (light!)
[personal profile] silenttrainbaby
12/28/2015| Beach door

Cinna introduces Grey to the wonders of the beach, sand and the ocean.

warnings for schmoop/PG-13
silenttrainbaby: (crouching)
[personal profile] silenttrainbaby
Dec. 6 | hallway and Cinna's room

Grey finds himself someplace entirely new. Luckily one thing - the most important thing - is beautifully familiar.

reunion sexy-shenanigans
burn_with_us: (woods; winter)
[personal profile] burn_with_us
Just as she had last year, Katniss had taken on the task of planning a feast to give thanks for all the people who had come through the doors from Panem. There's a little crew of them now, slightly smaller than last year, but there's one important addition to that group - Cinna. Her heart is just a little lighter knowing that he's here and knowing that everyone in this place is happy and safe and well-fed is something to be thankful for.

She'd spent the wee hours of the morning hunting in one of the forests beyond the doors and came back with two wild turkeys. Cleaning and dressing them had taken most of the early morning hours and by late afternoon, she'd managed to have them roasted and golden brown. There's other things, too, cooked in the restaurant's kitchen and maybe while not as expertly done as Peeta would have, it's passable. Katniss has learned a few things in the past two years.

There's enough food for her invited guests and, should someone decide to crash the party, enough for a few uninvited guests. It's the way Katniss prefers it. She thinks part of the beauty of giving thanks for what they have is sharing it with anyone who happens along.

When everyone is gathered, she taps her glass lightly and makes an impromptu (and awkward) speech.

"So, I'm thankful you're all here. I'm thankful another year has passed and we're safe and sound and well-fed. Please enjoy."

With that, she slinks back into her seat.
designerebel: (cinna § 65)
[personal profile] designerebel
For the first few days Cinna stays in his room. He's suffered a loss so great that it's painful beyond the telling of it. Who can speak those words? Cinna cannot, in spite of his usual eloquence. He's had to relive his own demise right up to his death. In a sense, it leaves him numb. But a man like Cinna cannot stay that way forever. He has to feel. He has to exist. He is not an ungrateful man when he is given something so great that it's very near inexplicable. He should be dead. His life, this life in The Nexus, is a miraculous thing - the impossible made possible. He will not squander the gift that has been given to him.

He dresses well in spite of the ache in his bruised muscles as he does so. Cinna doesn't like looking anything but well put together. By his fourth day the wounds on his body have scabbed over. The bruises have turned deep purple and yellow. He doesn't try to cover them up with makeup. There is no sense in that and he knows they'll be gone soon enough. He does don some of his token golden eyeliner. It makes him feel more human. It makes him feel more like himself, tiny gold lines outlined and embellished in black that serve him as well as the greatest suit of armor ever made. He is alive. He exists. He is a fighter in his own right even without conventional weapons. He is Cinna.

He understands The Nexus somewhat in thanks to his time in another very different place although similar in mechanics. Also, in thanks to the kindness of a man he is still indebted to who had helped him understand what was happening when he'd only first arrived a few days ago. He understands that it is a hub of some sort. He also understands that he cannot go home. That is a fate of his own design that he doesn't want to live through again.

It is now, four days later, that he decides to get out and explore this, The Nexus, as Aramis had called it. He can be found anywhere really, moving with an elegance and grace that is intrinsic to him, looking in rooms and shops, outside and inside. Not only does he want to become acquainted with his new home, but he's in search of food and the familiarity of a needle and thread in his hands if he can find it. That's all he needs, really. For now.
averygoodshot: (Fem Aramis)
[personal profile] averygoodshot
Aramis keenly remembers teasing Porthos when he had stepped through the door and become a woman. He had teased d'Artagnan and even Athos.

Oh, how the mighty have fallen. He had not intended to do anything, really. He spent a good deal of his time praying, a good deal of time trying to atone for his sins.

Instead, this is what happens.

Much as his friends had, he has hitched his clothing tighter so that it may not fall down, and has fashioned something of a harness for ... well, for his new developments, as it were. He knows he could seek out Constance or even, if he was desperate, Milady, but he is not that desperate. He simply makes do and tells himself that God has a reason for everything.

He has always appreciated women and so maybe this is to test that? Who knows. Aramis does not question, at least not much. He is aware, though, that he looks a little foolish, his hair tied up, his clothing, baggy on him as a man, is like a series of large sacks on him, his boots far too big as he makes his way down the hallways. He smiles, though, not having a hat to tip, as he greets people. He knows he's not the only one who's suffered thusly. That's something anyway.

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