dvmbkid

[dvmbkid]

amcranthine‌

     clara was in the training room , practicing with a blade . before the end of the last hunger games , they already had the tributes that were going to volunteer . but with victoria & quentin’s stunt & the increase in number of tributes , they had to result to pulling names , hence why clara was in this position . people had applauded her as her name was called , the living legacy of finnick & annie odair . the knot had forming itself in that moment & hadn’t unraveled since . she stopped after awhile , chest rising & falling heavily , looking over to see someone. “ care to spar ? ” she teased, running her finger along the blade . she had to act tough , she was a career . no one could know how truly she was not ready for this .

often times, acacius found himself in the training room. he’d be observing, engaging in small talk while the kids below him did ... whatever the hell they did to prepare themselves for what was ahead. acacius wasn’t even sure if he was allowed on the floor, but he found himself there anyway. must’ve taken the wrong turn. the facility was a goddamn maze. he stopped dead in his tracks when the young woman spoke. “oh, goodness, no ! do i look --- nevermind. you career tributes never cease to amaze me.” he put a hand to his chest, clutching an imaginary string of pearls, if you will. on his opposite arm draped different strips of fabric; tartan, silk, worsted --- even if one weren’t to recognize his face, they’d know exactly what he was there to do. “you look like you’ve got ... all of that that covered yourself. you’re odair’s child, aren’t you ?? absolutely incredible.”

[dvmbkid]

disordcr‌

          “  god,  i  hate  this  place.  ”  girl  glances  around  the  event,  watching  as  everyone  fills  themselves  to  the  brim  with  food  and  drink  –  obnoxious  laughs  dripping  from  their  mouths  as  spit  flies  out.  “  they  couldn’t  be  any  more  annoying.  ”  hazel  downs  the  rest  of  her  glass,  setting  it  on  the  tray  of  an  avox  passing  by.  “  i’m  ditching.  down  to  do  some  morphling  ?  ”

“oh, lighten up a little, won’t you ? ” acacius rolled his eyes. this attitude was shared by tributes and victors alike, nothing he wasn’t used to. just set in their ways, he assumed. the capitol is definitely an acquired taste. “morphling is a dangerous drug, darling. far less dangerous than good fun. all of the food and drink you could ever ask for is right in front of you, what’s there to hate ? ”

[dvmbkid]

stcllarvm‌

dana had been exploring the tower, she hasn’t been able to rest or sleep well since the reaping. she wasn’t surprised that she was reaped because of the fact that her brother was one of the star-crossed lovers that led to rebelling in the districts. she would’ve been surprised if she wasn’t reaped. “well i’d take the reason they aren’t sleeping over mine any day.” the tribute said to yves honestly. “they have no care in the world, excited for the new season of their favorite sport, watching innocent people kill each other till only one survives.”

“i’d rather jump on a podium mine than be ... like that.” yves scoffed, eyes glued to the floor. he didn’t want to be desensitized to the violence that he’d been surrounded by. unfortunately, people like him didn’t have much of a choice. he was more like them than he thought he was. “be careful about what you say about them. the capitol, i mean. i could’ve been one of snow’s big wigs. they’d chop your tongue out for that, and that’s if you’re lucky.”

[dvmbkid]

{cismale; homosexual} Is that MICHAEL SHEEN spotted in the Capitol? No, it’s ACACIUS BECHTEL who is a FIFTY year old who is from THE CAPITOL. HE is in the Capitol because HE’S a  DISTRICT ONE STYLIST. HE has been described as SILVER-TONGUED, but also MANIPULATIVE.

i’m back for round two ;)

BASICS.

FULL NAME: Acacius Bechtel. BIRTH DATE: October 31st. AGE: Fifty. ZODIAC: Scorpio. GENDER: Cismale. PRONOUNS: He/Him. SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Homosexual. STYLING FOR: District One. 

HISTORY.

acacius is ... peculiar, that’s for certain. speak to every sorry soul who’s ever met him and they’ll give you some variation of the word. his parents were quite the same. they were sponsors, powerful ones. the two of them could buy their way to the moon and back without a dent in their bank account.

that being said, their bank accounts were the only positive thing about them. acacius wasn’t well attended to. they were always out, either doing business or swinging with other rich married couples their age. they didn’t even care enough to hire a caretaker. he took himself to school, he cooked his own food, and mended his own clothing. it took a lot of trial and error, but he had to grow up quicker than most of his fellow capitol citizens. 

the older he got, the closer his parents tried to get with him. they started taking him to events with food he couldn’t cook in clothes he couldn’t hand sew. his maturity impressed all sorts of big wigs involved with the games, from sponsors to gamemakers. he was making connections with the government at sixteen, during the 66th games. he was able to see great things because of the places his parents took him to and the people he talked to, but it didn’t come without some things he’d rather forget. maltreatment of staff, tributes, and mentors --- he wishes he would’ve stopped them.

by the time he turned eighteen he was offered an apprenticeship under one of panem’s most prominent stylists and damnit he fell for him like a rock. acacius’ every thought was centered around coming up with new ideas to impress and prove himself to him. everyone thought it was a little weird, it was obvious how obsessed he was with him but even then he continued working to impress, completely oblivious to the traction his work was getting in the meantime.

his apprenticeship ended when he was twenty. he’d be a fool to stop working for the capitol, there was nowhere else he could go but up. this also meant that he wasn’t working under his schoolyard crush anymore. acacius would be lying if he said he didn’t screw him after the 71st games.

their relationship didn’t progress much further than that. some people need ... distance and acacius understood that. they seldom spoke after that and it stung, but hearing he was executed for supporting the failed rebellion that took place after the 74th games hurt more than he could understand. he tried not to think about it again, but it planted a seed of doubt in him that he couldn’t shake. maybe he could do something to help. one day.

since then, he’s kept his romantic life out of work. mostly. he just tries to keep his heart out of the game; it’s far too dangerous. he’d rather rub elbows with the capitol’s fattest cats --- and flirt with the closeted ones. it’s more fun when there aren’t any strings attached.

acacius had nowhere to go but up. he’s been seen with some of the most prominent figures of panem and he knows exactly what he wants to get out of them. he has people to do all of the things he had to do himself, but it ... spoiled him, a little bit. he expects everyone to wait on him hand and foot. it’s the capitol and he’s been in the game since diapers, so this works out in his favor more often than not.

to the naked eye he might seem like every other capitol citizen, all inflated egos and flashy dress, but acacius is different. it’ll just take a little more heartache to figure that out.

HEADCANONS & PERSONALITY

this is the gayest man alive. he gets it from me.

he is nice in the capitol kind of way. i always see it as minnesota nice with californian levels of passive aggressive, for my ‘mericans out there who are familiar with the vibes. basically, acacius could read the shit out of you and still have the decency to clean up the library afterwards. if you get my drift.

i wanted him to have the aziraphale voice so i gave him the aziraphale voice.

he’s got a soft heart, though. he cares a lot about the tributes and tries to make their pieces individual to them. fashion is nothing if it isn’t unique. he’s styled for every district throughout his career and he’s met a lot of different people, it’s still hard for him to grasp that most of them are dead. speaking of, i really want him to be friends with a victor he styled. i can’t stop thinkin abt it.

in a lot of ways, he’s very similar to his parents. socialite with a hedonistic streak. homie FUCKS !! 

i’m basing him off of tan france, jvn, oscar wilde, and just abt every young bright person. not from the movie but from, like, life. 

i am so tired. i'm having starbucks withdrawal. i hope you enjoy this because my brain is soft like cottage cheese and i don’t think you can get any more of this outta me.

[dvmbkid]

[dvmbkid]

𝐢 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐞'𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐲.

[dvmbkid]

cvptivated‌

“the odds in my favor? ha-ha, you’re hilarious, old man. nice to see that slaughtering the innocent hasn’t killed your shitty sense of humor,” ashe scoffed, rolling his eyes at his mentor. if anything, the odds couldn’t be more stacked against the young male from district seven. the sheer amount of tributes this year was overwhelming, and unlike the career pack, he didn’t have a strong alliance he could rely on to get him through the first days, at the very least. no, in order for ashe to make it, he would need sponsors to help him out, but unfortunately, neither of his mentors seemed to be of use in that department. johanna was unhinged and intimidating, and yves… well, he hasn’t looked sober since the day they were introduced to each other. it was obvious that ashe couldn’t rely on them, and was going to get out of this mess all by himself. “do you ever sleep?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. ashe had never been a restless sleeper, but despite the comfortable bed the capitol had provided him with, he hadn’t been able to sleep for more than three or four hours, at most. “serious q, by the way, because you look like you haven’t slept in like, a hundred years.”

yves frowned, his brows knitted tight. “where did you get old man from ?? i’m eight years older than you.” he scoffed before finishing the last of his wine, setting his glass on the nearest flat surface. “you’re lucky the wine got rid of my filter.” he wasn’t old yet, but the games aged him. they made him jaded and brittle and numb. the cane and near constant deadpan didn’t help too much either. “the longer you’re here, the harder it is to keep your eyes closed. it’s ... unsettling and poetic, almost,” yves mused. “give a mouse a king sized bed and it’ll do anything but sleep in it.” he felt a pang of homesickness somewhere in the foggy depths of his mind. his stomach filled itself with butterflies --- queen alexandra’s --- but he ignored it. pushed whatever came up back down. god, what an incredible skill. “i rest when you all aren’t allowed to see me. which is often enough, really. i don’t need much else. more importantly, shouldn’t you be getting your beauty sleep in ?? you might need it. you know, preparing yourself for slaughtering the innocent ... or what have you.”

[dvmbkid]

im the only one to blame for this but i hope you're all excited

[dvmbkid]

there wasn’t a lot that yves liked about the capital. he hated the people, he hated the culture, and he hated the food. yet, he loved the view. day or night, there were streets chock full of citizens like snowflakes; no two looking the same. he observed them like a patron at a zoo from any window at the tower that allowed for it. from this window they looked like ants. multicolored and glowing like the stars so far above them. typically, he enjoyed this alone, but the footsteps behind him proved that tonight wouldn’t be typical. yves chuckled to himself, his focus still not entirely pulled by the sight below him. “may the odds be ever in your favor.” he mocked, putting his wine glass to his lips. “do they ever sleep out there?”

[dvmbkid]

[dvmbkid]

[dvmbkid]

Unfortunately, there are people in the world

[dvmbkid]

hey lads and lassies. how are we doing. i’m tyler !! i’m currently rotting in my apartment while the quarantine happens. as one does. this is a new muse of mine so i’m still figuring him out, but i hope you guys are excited to meet yves !!

{cismale; bisexual} is that ANDREW HOZIER BYRNE spotted in the capitol? no, it’s YVES STOKER who is a TWENTY EIGHT year old who is from DISTRICT 7. HE is in the capitol because HE’S a MENTOR (89th). HE has been described as LOGICAL, but also WITHDRAWN.

BASICS.

FULL NAME: Yves Woodrow Stoker. BIRTH DATE: June 5th. AGE: Twenty-eight. ZODIAC: Gemini. GENDER: Cismale. PRONOUNS: He/Him. SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Bisexual. VICTORY YEAR: 89th.

HISTORY.

there aren’t many people in district seven who’ve spent the majority of their adolescence expecting to be reaped. in fact, yves would probably estimate that the number is close to zero. he’d know, he was one of them.

his mother was never able to work. her eyesight was taken from her in her youth, which ruined any chance for a sustainable career in their district. his father suffered from a rather unfortunate work related injury when yves turned thirteen. he had to care for his parents just as much as they took care him, and the only way he could do that was by taking out tesserae. he had twenty-one entries by the time he turned seventeen.

he had heard stories about people having thirty, forty, even fifty tesserae and not getting reaped, but he realized that he might not be as lucky. he learned to fight through the panic attacks and the existential dread because after awhile, he had no choice but to grin and bear it.

every reaping he’d stand with his hands behind his back and his head held high, even when his heart started to beat so loud he could hear it through his ears. he’d always imagine the escort saying his name with a grin, getting him ready for the slaughter, but he’d always go back home ready to wait another 365 days for it to happen all over again. he was seventeen when the 89th reaping happened. he didn’t get to go back home.

he let the capital and their minions turn him into something he wasn’t. instead of a person, he was a gimmick. they paraded him around like he was a loyal, brave, rags to riches story in the making. but that didn’t register until they sent him into the arena.

four killed. yves struggles with that number to this day. he remembers their names, their districts, and their ages. every day in that goddamned arena was more painful and heart wrenching than the last. if you ask him he’ll tell you that he regrets not jumping off the podium when he had the chance.

the games did a lot to him. it did a lot to him that no one expected or prepared for. it’s been awhile since a victor had come out of the games a complete shadow of their former self. he had to be kept in the hospital until his victory tour, which is when he first started taking morphling and countless other powerful drugs the nation used to numb the shellshock out of their citizens.

no one really talks about him anymore unless they can’t avoid it. he’s panem’s amanda bynes or lindsay lohan; unspeakable. he doesn’t make public appearances unless he can avoid it, either. he only seems to come out of district seven’s victor’s village when he’s made to mentor a few months out of the year. even then, he’s a frail, gaunt, looming figure people walk on eggshells around. not exactly where he thought he’d be, huh ??

PERSONALITY & HEADCANONS.

he’s ... interesting to be around. sort of eccentric if you’re one of the few people who know him well. not nice, but not mean. he’s stoic and blunt. not nearly as sensitive and as kindhearted as he used to be. the games stunted him emotionally, but the medication he’s forced to take keeps any of that unmanaged rage in a part of his mind he can’t reach.

as a mentor he’s ... not the best. he tries to talk to his tributes as much as he can but his social skills have decayed after around a decade of chronic unuse. his advice is sound, though.

he prefers not to teach anything regarding weapons or killing people, but if you need to learn how to work an axe he can teach you how to swing it like you mean it. most of his time is spent teaching tributes about plant edibility and general survival skills.

speaking of plants !! he has a garden back in his victor’s village and it’s the only thing he cares about. he talks to them like they’re people because they’re the only things that haven’t tried to turn him into a commodity. and it helps them grow, so it’s really a win/win situation. they’re his babies.

he’s bisexual but hasn’t had a romantic or sexual thought in. ages tbh. sometimes he wonders what it’d be like to be in love, but he figures that it’s too much work. every time someone asks, he just brushes it off and mentions how he’s too late to start the game. it stings, though. just a little bit.

walks with a cane. why ?? i thought it would look cool so now you all have to deal with it.

it looks cool because he’s 6′5 and it’s three feet long. it could probably be used as a highly efficient weapon if he didn’t need it to stand.

PINTEREST BOARD

[dvmbkid]

HAIR

[dvmbkid]

𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐘.