Rycelle

Whizz kid of District 3 FC: Yara Shahidi RP Blog

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Astrology for Dummies✗Post-Parade✗Rycelle & Aquarius

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aquarius-sotello

“Yea, or ‘Rus for short. From Four.” He affirmed meeting her hand with his.

Jacinta had made both he and AJ watch the Reapings from the other Districts multiple times yesterday while they were en route to the Capitol. Names would matter little in the coming days compared to each of the twenty-fours District of origin.

He didn’t know much about Three save for it’s industry and the reputation of its citizens. Rycelle may be the youngest among them but he wouldn’t count her out on first impressions alone, she might have a few tricks up her sleeve that could make her as daunting as anyone else. Aquarius remembered she was still his competition in all of this, and if push came to shove he wouldn’t, as his father taunted in the Justice Building, “fall on a sword because it was the right thing to do.”

He lifted a brow at the drink in her hand, “Should I bother to ask if there’s any alcohol in that?”

His hand easily encircled hers and they shook for a moment before detaching. “Did you parents give you that nickname? I only ask because my parents called me Ry then all my friends and teachers started calling me Ry and frankly I think it’s just easier that way.” She babbled off at near lightning speed.

From what little research she’d been able to conduct, his parents were similar to her’s, high up in their respective district in regards to relations with the Capitol. What exactly that meant for the fishing district, she wasn’t sure, but she did recall reading about their aquarium before in one of her Panem history books. Some Cradle something.

“You seem underdressed and a little nervous.” She said plainly. “I guess parties and crowds are not really your forte?” He seemed a little underdressed compared the fancy suits and expensive furs most of the men seemed to be draped in. 

Stifling a bit of a giggle, Rycelle took a small sip. “I sure hope not. If my Mum knew I was drinking she’d have a fit. Not that I could really tell seeing as I don’t know what alcohol tastes like, since you know, I’m thirteen and all.”

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Astrology for Dummies✗Post-Parade✗Rycelle & Aquarius

Once the chariot came to a full stop AJ and Aquarius were pulled in opposite directions by their respective prep team, all while receiving a laundry list of feedback from Jacinta regarding their performance on the track. Somewhere between her compliments and critique she made mention of a party that was being hosted for tributes and Capitol citizens alike,

“Anyone who’s anyone is going to be there.” She chimed with a smile, making it loud and clear the decision to go had already been made for them.

Aquarius groaned internally at the idea of being paraded around for a second time but knew it would do more harm than good to stay on the sidelines. He was thankful TK allowed him to pick his attire for the evening, with Jacinta’s approval of course. Surprisingly she didn’t have much to say about casual slacks and button down he decided on.

The party was buzzing with life by the time the District Four team arrived, and only after greeting anyone who noticed their entrance were they permitted to take off on their own for the night. He was used to the crowds at this point, having made it through both the arrival last night and parade what felt like only moments ago. It felt like a routine at this point: the forced smile and conversations.

What he found slightly off putting however was being given the chance to, “get to know your fellow tributes!” as if this was a social gathering and they wouldn’t be at each others throats in a matter of days. He didn’t plan on striking up a conversation with any of them tonight, but should he bump into anyone during the course of his circut around the hall he would at least try and be civil. Jacinta had made it clear they were being watched at all hours, whether they realized it or not.

It was only after turning away from a group of Capitolites who pulled him into their conversation that he had to stop himself mid-stride from colliding with a small girl,

“Shit- sorry, didn’t see you there.” He forced a weak chuckle. It was only then he realized she was another tribute, “You’re from, Three, right?”

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Temporarily forgetting all about the dire situation she was in, Rycelle was still riding the high of the parade as her stylist Iliana helped her down from the chariot. Pulling her over to a tiny room no bigger than a closet, the woman produced a dress from seemingly nowhere and in seconds had stripped Ry of her steampunk costume and slipped her into the above knee floral number she’d be wearing for the ‘after party’.

“Don’t worry darling, everyone is going to love you. Show them the same Ry that we got to know and those Capitolites will be falling over each other to talk to you. Now go make momma proud!” She sent the young tribute off with a gentle push.

Once inside she found herself in a sea of ballgowns and dress pants. Though she was supposed to be one of the stars of the show, she could barely without threat of an elbow to the head or someone striding right into her. Deciding she was a little bit safer around the edges of the room, she spotted a table sporting humongous bowls of brightly coloured liquid. She asked the attendant politely for a glass of a bright red drink and found it tasted exactly like cherries.

Glass in hand, she started to make her way back into the fray and almost instantly had a near miss with someone who looked out of place amongst the glitz of the Capitol. Hearing the boy curse made her giggle, not only did he look out of place but he certainly seemed out of his element.

“Rycelle Dalton, from Three.” She confirmed, extending her hand to the boy just as Daddy had taught her to do when meeting someone. “And you must be-” she paused as she looked the boy up and down. Cute curly hair, dreamy eyes, tall.. “Aquarius Sotello, correct?” She beamed up at him.

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Rycelle at the post parade party.

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Top Left: Kessia French || Hair & Nails

Top Right: Lunette Marquis || Skin & Makeup

Centre: Iliana Didier || Head Stylist

First time stylist Iliana Didier is a mother first and a fashion icon second, a fact she’ll happily recount for you. In fact, she only exploded onto the fashion scene a little over a year ago after giving birth to her first child Valencia. Before her child, she was little more than a socialite and trophy wife to a high ranking officer in Panem’s military. While he was kind, he saw little promise in his wife aside from her looks and encouraged her to stay at home while he was away as he made more than enough money to support their family.

Somewhat against his wishes, Iliana joined a group of local moms who took part in activities during the day while their husbands were at work. It was here that Iliana met two of her closest friends, Kessia and Lunette. The three were growing bored with their day in day out routine and decided to try to spice things up a little by putting on fashion shows for their fellow stay at home moms. 

What started out as a little fun turned into a huge success as the trio started getting requests to style for magazine shoots and mothers everywhere were clamouring to get a hold of their latest styles. Iliana’s husband was growing unhappy with how much time his wife was spending away from him and the house so he gave her an ultimatum, either the styling goes or he does. Without batting an eye, she served him the divorce papers, won full custody of their child, and got offered a spot as head stylist in the next Hunger Games, all in the same week.

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~Planes and Trains and Automobiles~ Trainride

“Sit tight Ry, we’re gonna fix this mess. No way in hell are they putting my little girl in an arena. YOU HEAR ME?! I DON’T CARE IF I HAVE TO TAKE IT TO THE PRESIDENT HIMSELF!” Rycelle’s father continued to scream as his daughter disappeared into the open door of the awaiting train.

Outside the train, Rycelle’s mother had her head buried in her father’s chest as he continued to berate whichever Captiol official had the unfortunate luck to be posted at the train station. Eyes glued to the window, this was the scene Rycelle was left with as the train began it’s journey towards her death. This was the last time she would get to see her parents.

Even after she long couldn't see her parents anymore, Rycelle kept herself pressed against the window. She knew there was no way she could see them but she was beyond reason and rationality, anything she could do to get one last glimpse of them.

Only once her breath had fogged up the glass to the point where she couldn't see anything did she turn away from the window, teary eyed and with a lump in her throat. Her district partner had long since left to find his own compartment, leaving her alone with their escort and an avox who was standing at attention. Dionysus had made himself comfortable on a leather couch, his attention firmly on the tablet he was clutching in his hands.

“You look like a bloody mess, girl.” He spoke calmly, barely looking up from his tablet. “There’s no way I’ll have a tribute of mine arriving in the Capitol like their favourite dog just died.” Rycelle stymied a sob, not used to being spoken to like she was. “Now hurry off to your room and clean up before dinner. Go on, he’ll take you there.” His eyes averted back to whatever it was he was watching, he shooed the girl off with a sweep of his hand.

Rycelle froze for a moment, gently crying and unsure of what to do next. A light tap on her shoulder made her jump with a start but it was only the avox, gesturing towards the compartment behind them. She followed after him, eyes trailing the floor as if she were ashamed to even let him see her cry.

It only took a minute before the avox stopped in the middle of a hallway and pointed towards a closed door.

“Thank you.” Rycelle said quietly as she stopped to pull open the door. She looked into the man’s face, he was young, probably no older than twenty-five, and had a soft, heart shaped face. The two stood looking at each other for a moment before the avox reached his hand out towards her. He stopped, quickly looking around to see if anyone else was watching before brushing a stray tear from Rycelle’s cheek. She blinked up at him as he smiled a sad smile, then gestured into the room and turned his back on the girl.

Even after the door closed Rycelle stood still. Curiosity had overcome her sadness temporarily as she wondered how someone as seemingly kind as that avox had come to be here. 

The moment Rycelle sat down on her bed, the weight of the day’s events seemed to pull her eyelids down over her eyes. Before she knew it, she was out, and when she woke the Capitol was appearing just over the horizon.

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~Broken Promises~ A Reaping OS

“And the female tribute for District Three- Rycelle Dalton.”

A scream, high and shrill broke through the blanket of silence that settled on District Three at night. A scream that normally would have curdled the blood of anyone hearing it. A scream that went ignored, for it was the eighth night in a row Rycelle had woken up screaming.

It had been the same the year before. A week leading up to the first ever reaping, her parents had rushed to her room to comfort their terrified daughter. It only took two days before they started ignoring her screams as there was little they could do that they hadn’t already done. There was only so many times they could reassure Rycelle that her name wouldn’t be pulled. Only so many times they could plead their immunity for their part in helping quell the rebellion, and when that failed, how many times they could point out that out of roughly two hundred thousand citizens, of which about thirty five percent were eligible to be reaped, two slips of paper were very small in comparison to the tens of thousands of names.

For the second time, Rycelle stood with her former classmates in a neat little row in the heart of the district. The gentle humming of electricity zipping through the wires and cables that were draped overheard was practically silent to the citizens. After so many years people just adjusted and even the occasional pop and crackle did little more than make a few people blink. Still, Rycelle couldn’t help but give a little shriek as the wires popped and fizzled above her.

“And the female tribute for District Three- Rycelle Dalton.”

Rycelle was awake. She knew she was awake. She could feel the slight breeze pick up the hem of her dress, the fabric rippling against her thighs. Around her the other children were whispering, some making plans for what to do afterwards while others praying to whatever they could that their names weren’t called. Even with everything going on, she couldn’t get the voice out of her head. The voice calling her to her spectacular death. And the screams that followed.

Time seemed to have slowed to a crawl while the remaining teens filtered into the holding area. Her parents had left her what seemed like hours ago, and though she knew the names of the girls she now stood beside, that was not something she could take any comfort in.

“I can’t be picked, they promised.”

“I can’t be picked, they promised.”

“I can’t be picked, they-”

District Three’s escort took the stage at that moment. Part of Rycelle wondered if he’d purposely made himself look like that, but in a few moments she noted the telltale signs of albinism and concluded the man had been born with it. Albinism had been exceedingly rare prior to the days of Panem, and now with the small populations and segregation it was essentially unheard of. Had the circumstances been different, Rycelle probably would have appreciated that fact more.

The man cleared his throat. Once. Twice. Then introduced himself with an accent that was bizarre even by Capitol standards. “Good Morning, my name is Dionysus Cane, and welcome, to the second Annual Hunger Games.” Dion annunciated each of his words with care, knowing full well he would have been difficult to follow otherwise.

Every word Rycelle absorbed, her hands clenched tightly into fists at her sides. She watched the propaganda movie that had been introduced the year before. The whole thing seemed- almost light hearted. As if the every single person here hadn’t lived through the terrors of the war. As if everyone hadn’t suffered, some distinctly more than others. There were parts of the district that were still little more than charred rubble, left there as a daily reminder of what had happened. And the Capitol had the audacity to speak of loss and sacrifice. The whole situation was just so strange to Rycelle. This whole thing felt like a dream gone wrong.

It was clear Dionysus was a man who meant business as he wasted no time transitioning from the video to the ceremony. His every movement was purposeful, taking his position between the two enormous glass bowls.

“Ladies.”

An entire district collective held their breath as the escort plunged his hand into a sea of white. It only took a moment before he withdrew his hand, a single piece of stark white paper clenched in his fingers.

“And the female tribute for District Three- Rycelle Dalton.”

She blinked. The hum of electricity the only sound in a district of silence. Was this still the dream? Then, a scream-

Rycelle held a hand to her lips, uncertain where the sound had come from. Her fingers found nothing but lips held tightly together, not the origin of the sound.

A firm hand wrapped itself around her arm and yanked her out of the safety of the crowd. Sudden she was so exposed and so so very alone. The peacekeeper kept a tight grip on her as he propelled the small girl towards the steps and onto the stage beside the escort. No tears had fallen yet, though her eyes burned bright and hot. Eyes scanning the crowd, she found a screen with herself front and centre, eyes wide, lip quivering, total shell shock.

Ignoring the carryings on of the ceremony, Rycelle continued to search for the source of the screams knowing all too well who now was the cause. It took a moment, as the sharp screams had died down to low, mournful sobs. About thirty rows back, a little to the left of the centre, stood her parents. Well, rather, her father stood barely supporting his wife who seemed to have lost the ability to stand on her own.

Before she could catch their attention, a hand spun her around to face her partner. She barely had a moment to look the brunette up and down before their hands met and both were steered into the waiting doors of the justice building.

Only after the doors had closed did the tears begin to fall. “But they promised-”

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Dionysus Cane || Age: 22 || Model & District 3 Escort

Dionysus grew up hearing stories about the world beyond Panem. One that stretched across the vast seas bordering the country. One that was filled with people with different cultures and ideologies from Panem. Dionysus grew up hearing stories about his family's homeland, one that they'd been forced to abandon when the wars broke out.

The Cane's were a powerful family, coming to rule what used to be the United Kingdom before they fled. Proud of their heritage and their status, it was tough for them to leave everything and risk their lives crossing the ocean for another chance at life. Upon arriving in Panem, the family was granted access to the Capitol on the condition that no one from their lineage should be able to hold office, as even across the world, their name carried with it their lust for control and power.

So it was the Cane's toiled. Starting out as lowly as one can in the Capitol, as bank tellers, shop keepers, anything they could do to find work and start to solidify their presence in this new world. Their children were brought up to be cautious, to be quiet, but most importantly, never to forget where they had come from. And so it was that Dionysus was brought into the world, the latest in a line seeking their last moments in the sunlight.

His birth started a plot that, should it come to fruition, would secure the Cane's their rightful place among the rules of their new homeland. Dionysus' condition seemed to draw all attention towards teh small boy, and even from a young age he was striking. His parents pushed him towards a life of modelling, and thanks to his unique condition and good looks, the boy quickly began climbing the Capitol modelling circuit.

It came to no surprise to the Cane's that when the Hunger Games were announced, and so too the need for district escorts, that their son was among the front runners to secure a spot. It wasn't the path they'd planned for him to take, but they appreciated the short cut practically dropping into their lap. District Three was not quite as high as they were hoping, but it was a start.

With his family's hopes riding on his shoulders, Dionysus takes his job as escort extremely seriously. He cares not for his tributes nor for the district he is representing. His only focus is ensuring he keeps up appearances. After all, appearances are everything in the land of plenty.

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“Panem is one of the most advanced nations in mankind’s history, thanks to the efforts of District 3. Its computers keep us all connected and its electronic gadgets keep us all entertained.” (x)

District Appreciation - District Three: Technology

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