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bravelypluckedOUT of CHARACTER
Name: Airdra
Other characters: Kousuke Nitou
IN CHARACTER
Name: Torin
Fandom: Voltasaur Sentai Kyoryuger
Canon point/AU: AU
Journal:bravelyplucked
PB: I'll be using Torin's voice actor, Toshiyuki Morikawa, who appeared as a human Torin the one time in canon Torin used a human disguise.
History:
Torin's canon history is here, though his AU history's going to be quite a bit different on account of that whole being a Panem human thing instead of being a millions-of-years-old alien.
Torin's family hailed from District Two, where the competition to be the tributes for the Hunger Games was great. He was the middle child of a high-ranking Peacekeeper's family, with one older brother and a younger sister. His father and oldest brother were both quite alike, and both of them had cruel streaks a mile wide and enjoyed lording their power over the weak. Torin never got along well with them, and they seemed to see his gentleness--for where had that come from in this family?--as weakness. His father wanted one of his children to participate in the Games, but by the time he'd managed to use what influence he had to secure the slot, his eldest son was too old to participate. Torin was pressured into going by both his father and older brother, for they seemed to think this was the family's one chance at the benefits winning the Games could bring...and if Torin failed, well, it wouldn't be too great a loss. Torin, for his part, found himself willing to go if only because it meant his sister wouldn't have to.
The time in the Capitol leading up to the Games themselves was quite unpleasant for Torin. His stylist proved to be inspired by his last name, and feathers were in that season. At one point, he found himself wearing nothing but a Speedo (he was eternally grateful for the Speedo, in retrospect) with feathers glued all over his body, with the stylist deciding that mountain eagles would be the absolute best theme. He did not get along well with any of the other Careers, including the girl from District 2, who blamed him for the feather debacle. He handled himself well enough in interviews despite this, though he came off as being too nice to do much damage--an anamoly from District Two. Those betting on the Games had trouble deciding what odds to place on him; was this being nice thing just an act designed to conceal some ruthlessness, or was it genuine and going to get him killed? Torin didn't team up with the Careers in the Cornucopia as he was supposed to, and from there, he set about making the rather unusual alliance that would win him the Hunger Games.
As far as the Gamemakers were concerned, the major selling point of Torin's arena was the genetically engineered dinosaurs they'd created to populate the place. Torin chose a strategy no one had even considered. He tamed several of these creatures, or at least made everyone else look like a more appealing target to the beasts. And when his opponents got through the dinosaurs, they had to face him and the sword he'd gotten from the Cornucopia. The most memorable moment of the arena had him riding into his final battle aboard a miniature brachiosaurus and brandishing his sword. The resulting fight was brutal, especially when the Gamemakers decided to trigger a "meteor shower of extinction" in the middle of it, and Torin was badly wounded in his right shoulder. The Capitol doctors did their best--so they claimed--but the injury was too great to heal his shoulder back to full functionality. He's got a limited range of movement in his right arm, particularly the shoulder; lifting that arm above his head is rather difficult, and too much strenuous exercise with the arm is painful. He functions well in his day-to-day life, but he's constantly pushing against the limits of what he can do in an attempt to see if he can get any more movement back.
Officially, his talent is watchmaking. He makes old-fashioned watches that are curious enough to be considered works of art, and, on occasion, tiny clockwork dinosaurs (for the kids!). It's enough that nothing at all looks amiss. But in the back room, the place in his workshop where no one is allowed to go, there are much larger clockwork dinosaurs in varying degrees of construction. Some of them look as though they might even be big enough to cause some actual damage once they're complete. It's an unorthodox manner of dabbling in building weaponry, but it's Torin's. He still trains with his sword in secret (and not-so-secret if a Tribute he's mentoring is involved), though his effectiveness is understandably limited. Some days, as he's doing it, he wonders if the Capitol did not fully repair his shoulder on purpose, or if the injury really was as bad as they said. He is very sympathetic to talk of rebellion and would like to do something in that vein himself, but he knows he's got to be careful about how he does it.
Torin has continued to live in District Two, because when it comes to the choice of that or the Capitol, well, anything's better than the Capitol. This also allows him to stay close to his family. He is currently being called back into the Capitol to assist with the new Tributes. He is not exactly jumping at the chance, and he's guessing they're on to the fact that he's not as loyal as he pretends to be.
Presentation:
Torin maintains an air of cool confidence. He's big on bravery. Bravery is, to him, the one thing that can help you survive the worst troubles. He was brave in the arena, and he survived. He is quick to note that bravery is not the absence of fear, but rather the ability to keep going in the face of it. Not letting fear get to you is a good survival strategy in the Arena, and it also serves him well in a world ruled by the heartlessness of the Capitol. He's careful to keep a tight rein on his emotions when he's around others so much as he will not allow any weakness to show. If he's sad, upset, or in pain, he'll hide that. It's not nearly as much of a problem for him to let someone see he's happy or amused, so long as he's not being overtly happy about something someone in the Capitol might see as treasonous.
He has a habit of snapping his fingers for emphasis when he speaks. If he's doing his whole mentor thing and snaps in the middle of whatever he's saying? Paying attention would be a good idea. He'll snap if he gets particularly wound up about an idea or line of thought, most notably anything dealing with bravery. Some suspect it's a sort of nervous tic that's a holdover from his time in the arena, for he would often snap to get the dinosaur mutts' attention.
Appearances are important, and he often looks rather dapper whenever he goes out. He favors wearing white suits and hats when available, and he's always careful to look put together and presentable. There's been a bit of gossip here and there as to whether or not he's had work done or if that distinctive white streak in his hair is really the result of scarring from a head wound sustained during the games like he claims. He's also very polite most of the time. Every so often he'll have a more candid moment and say something that's a little more blunt than it should be (particularly regarding the Capitol or the Games) but he'll quickly segue on into a milder conversation as though nothing has happened. Even if he's being candid, he tries to keep his remarks to generalities and not to single anyone out personally. The white streak in his hair from "that old head wound" comes in handy then as a visual reminder that of course sometimes he may say things he might not mean, and so Torin is very careful to make sure he keeps up the dye job. This attention he pays to his appearance and his general good nature has actually made him quite popular with a subset of older female fans, which he finds a little bewildering. That he has never married or had any significant romantic relationship has only fueled this even more, with hopeful fans thinking they might still have a chance with him...and still others happily rumormongering and speculating as to whether or not he's got a secret lover on the side. (He dies inside a little each time he hears one of those rumors.)
Torin strongly dislikes small talk. He was never fond of it to begin with, and his time in the Capitol has only made that worse. He is, however, quite good at it. It's an easy way for him to keep his distance from people, and it also gives him a chance to observe people and learn their motivations. Torin's generally got a good read on people, and he's mentorly enough to want to give out good advice where he can, regardless if who he's talking to is one of the Tributes he's supposed to be mentoring, someone he's bumped into at a party, or just his young niece and her friends. He has a sort of elder statesman way about him, and he's good at commanding a bit of respect when he needs to.
He's often a surprise to new Tributes and Victors; they tend to expect a Victor from District 2 to be a lot harsher than Torin. Yet he's kind to everyone regardless of their district, unless they've been particularly horrible or inhumane in their arena. Even then, he's never cruel, just cold. He respects good sportsmanship, such as it is, in the arena. In the past, when he's been doing his mentor thing with his Tributes, he's usually the guy they have coach the Tributes on how to deal with the media. He's well put together enough and in control of himself enough that he handles better than a great many other surviving Victors that handling the appearance side of things is widely seen to be his strongest asset. Besides, how much combat training can a mentor give if one of his arms doesn't work right? The smarter Tributes he gets realize that he has a bit more to offer than just advice on dealing with the cameras and the mind games, and they'll wisely ask for combat instruction weighted towards learning how to fight with a crippling injury. Torin tries his hardest to make sure his Tributes survive as best as they are able, and the ones he's lost weigh heavily on him. The way District 2 typically operates sometimes puts him at odds with his Tributes; they aren't as inclined towards compassion as he is, and they're more likely to be at ease with having to kill. Still, they're his responsibility, for better or for worse, and he must work with what he's given.
Motivations:
He hates what the Games are and what they stand for. He hates that they have taken so much from so many, and he hates his own continued involvement with them. That he has benefited from the Games, if only financially, also does not sit well with him. What he went through haunts him, although he's not much for talking about it or admitting just how heavily the memory of the Games wears on him. Getting interviewed about his time in the Games is particularly grating, and he'd like to say it doesn't bother him as much after 30-something years have passed, but it still does. He's at least pleased with himself for having developed enough control over his composure that anyone watching him talk about the Games likely won't realize just how strongly they have had an effect on him.
Anyone who has spent a bit of time in his workshop and thought a little while on what he's making might realize just how much emotional baggage is there. The workshop is, for the most part, filled with clockwork dinosaur parts. It's an eccentricity that seems harmless enough--a watchmaker killing some time and making things for children to play with--but he's got a misplaced sense of guilt over what happened to his dinosaur friends from the arena. The Gamemakers and the Capitol had no use for mutts that could be tamed. A handful of them were kept alive long enough for a photo op with Torin, and then they were all wiped out. Catching Torin at a bad time in his workshop might easily give someone the impression that he is trying to bring them back, as illogical as his means might seem. The tiny, toylike clockwork dinosaurs shouldn't be a problem for anyone, but he's got a few much larger pieces hanging around here and there with dreams of getting a big one functional enough to cause actual damage. He's nowhere near getting one larger than a medium-sized dog functional, but a man can dream in what he considers his one concession to the madness of the Games. And sure, there are better robotic parts he could use, but he's not sure exactly how those work or how he'd even obtain them without stirring up more suspicion than he'd like.
He's really quite lonely. The dapper air of detached calm he has does what he needs it to do--allow him to project a quiet facade of strength no matter the situation--but it also stops others from getting too close. He's never quite recovered from all the loss he saw in the Arena, where anyone he met and might have liked, human or dinosaur, ultimately died. He doesn't like to get close to people for two reasons: most of them would not understand what he's been through, and even if they did, they might be taken from him at any time. Easier to stay alone. It's the same with mentoring the Tributes. He wants to help them out, to try to give them the best possible chances of survival in that Arena, but he knows that even in a best case scenario, only one will survive. He's got to keep some distance there to blunt the pain. His family is still in District 2, and while he has not willingly spoken with his oldest brother in years, he maintains relatively close ties with his sister and her daughter. They're pro-Capitol enough that he hopes familial ties will hopefully overshadow any seditious thoughts he might let slip, and he sometimes wonders if some distance from him would be safest for them.
As far as the Capitol is concerned, he wants them to think he's nothing but an eccentric watchmaker, someone amiable enough to cart out on TV every so often, but not enough of a threat to pay any particular attention to. He has not done as good a job of this as he would like to think. A man can only be pushed so far before something ruffles his feathers enough to break through his facade of calm, and while it doesn't happen often, it still happens from time to time. It's why he's got the carefully dyed white streak in his hair and the story of the "old head injury." He hopes that no one really remembers just how banged up this kid was following the Hunger Games of thirty-something years ago, because he only suffered a few very minor bumps and bruises to the head. Nothing that would leave a lasting effect.
Though it's arguably not done a whole lot for him in this world and there have been a great many times that he's had to hide the extent of it, Torin is very kind. He does not like to see anyone suffer. It pained him to have to kill anyone in his Arena personally (the dinosaurs were lots of help there), and when he was forced into doing so, he tried to make it as quick and clean as possible. If he could, he would protect as many people as possible from the atrocities of the Capitol, but he knows he's not in the best position for that. He's fairly certain that those in charge would see his compassion as a weakness, and it's certainly something his Peacekeeper father tried to drive out of him.
Setting: He would like to put a stop to the Games altogether--and the Capitol's more heinous atrocities--if he could. He knows that's not possible by himself. He only survived his arena through teamwork of a sort, and now? He's just a middle-aged guy with an old injury and a strange dinosaur fixation. The offworld Tributes are a brand-new variable in all this: if he befriended them in the same manner he befriended those mutts in the arena, what would happen? They would all be better off without the Capitol; he can see that much of a common goal.
SAMPLES
First Person Thread:
[The last thing Torin had been expecting was to be namedropped like this. Sure, there were those fans of the Games who were charmed by his rather unorthodox way of winning, of turning some of the hazards into allies in a way the Gamemakers had not forseen, but he still thought he wasn't as interesting as some of the other victors. There were flashier, more memorable Victors out there, ones who liked using the spotlight. Why him?]
Well, they've certainly not been this unusual in a long time.
[There are a great many other things he'd like to say here. How it's unfair. Unfair that these strangers get torn from their lives and forced to fight for the amusement of a population that largely seems to be lacking in common decency. Unfair that these strangers are somehow brought back to life--which is in and of itself some sort of sin against nature--while the Capitol's own citizenry has been dying for years. Even that anyone has had to die in service of these Games ever is bad enough. Torin's no fool. Let too much of that slip, and there will be problems. He would rather take these issues on at a time of his choosing with a little prep time, instead of now, after being namedropped by some idiot who's fawning all over the past victors. Or was this a truly random namedrop? Was this some sort of test?]
There is an interesting range of Tributes here. They've got so many different skill sets to draw from, far different from watching our own children die.
[He's aware he's treading in dangerous waters with that statement, but he could not resist. He smoothly continues on, casually tucking that white streak of hair behind one ear as he does so. Nothing wrong with calling attention to one's supposed "head injury" after saying something like that. Don't mind him.]
They'll provide as much a challenge to each other as the Arena itself will, if they apply themselves properly.
["Apply themselves properly." If they're willing to fight and die for nothing. Torin's barely able to keep the disgust out of his voice at that.]
I can only hope our Gamemakers can rise to the challenge set before them. Consistently keeping things interesting with so little preparation time between each Arena must be very difficult.
[Really, he'd love nothing more than for the Gamemakers completely fail at their task to the point the Tributes escaped and found justice.]
I know I'll be doing my part and training them to the best of my ability. I'm certain these new Tributes will put on a fine show.
[That last sentence is fairly insincere given Torin's feelings about the Games as a whole, but he's had a lot of experience in hiding his disdain and total lack of enthusiasm. Like it or not, he's got a job to do...and he will try to make sure that at one of his Tributes survives.]
Prose:
This is bringing back bad memories. All sorts of bad memories. Torin supposes it must be because they've caught wind of his more traitorous thoughts somehow, of how he'd like to end the barbaric practices of the Games once and for all. Or perhaps they'd realized that the watchmaker had been dabbling in explosive clockwork dinosaurs. He is intensely concerned, yet unafraid. If they kill him, they kill him. It's an inevitability he was forced to accept back in the arena all those years ago. He wonders if they will admit it's actually him, that the Capitol has no problem in culling from their own citizens once more if it suits them, or if he will be passed off as a version of himself from another world. It would not surprise him. There is some concern over his family, but they've all proven themselves to be much more pro-Capitol than him. He doesn't think they'll encounter too many problems with him gone. They'll likely have to publicly renounce him, but he knew his brother would step in and do what needed to be done, speaking for their sister if necessary. They didn't get along, but Torin knew he could count on his brother to carry out any action that involved actively disliking him.
He's not willing to give up just yet. He vows that they will not see him sweat, that they will not see him falter, and that he will be brave. He's glad he never did let those sword skills atrophy, shoulder injury aside. He's pleased to see that there is a blade much like the one he used in his Arena--was this an intentional decision on the part of the Gamemakers? Probably--and he takes it. It feels good in his hand, though his hand is not what he's worried about. It's his shoulder, the old wound that never properly healed, that was never properly reconstructed. It's good enough for day-to-day life, not so good for another run in the Arena. Lucky for him he's quietly worked at fighting with a limited range of motion in the bad arm and building up the strength and dominance of the other arm...not that he's sure he wants them to know the latter just yet.
Torin tosses the Gamemakers a salute with the blade. He knows the drill. He'd known the drill all those years ago. He takes a deep breath, and then he launches himself at those training dummies, slicing and dicing with that sword. He's pleased with his show of skill. The shoulder's not acting up as badly as it might, and he's letting into those dummies with a ferocity that would surprise anyone who knew of his injury. His shoulder is screaming at him in protest at the strain, and it's difficult, and he can't quite execute as many of the moves he was trying for as he might like, but he's pushing through the pain. Covering for those weaknesses. He will not falter. He will not fall. He will be brave.
It's a wonderful performance of swordsmanship, of guarded movements that still prove deadly to the training dummies, at least until the pain in his shoulder becomes too much to bear. It stops him dead in his tracks, and with a grunt of pain, he drops the sword, his other hand reflexively reaching over to clutch at his shoulder, at the old wound. He's cursing himself for that moment of weakness, but maybe he can put it to use. Maybe they'll underestimate him. Or maybe they'll think it's a ruse, that he's healed up better than the doctors said on his victory tour all those years ago. It's hard to say. He wearily picks the blade up with his good arm and gives the Gamemakers another salute. That's it. He's done for now. No sense in straining things any more than he has, not when he's probably going to have to fight again in a short while.
What is your character scored: Torin's score is a 5. He's been docked points thanks to his bad shoulder, but he's still got quite a bit of experience and wisdom when it comes to the Arena, as well as those sword-swinging skills he could bring to bear if his shoulder doesn't give out first. Since this is a human AU, he's got none of the powers that the canon version would have, so no transformations or dinosaur giant robots or shooting energy beams or being an immortal bird-dinosaur-man.
Additional information:
Past victor: Please describe your character's arena, and their relationship with the Capitol since.
Torin's arena was a sort of poorly researched primeval dinosaur world. Big on old Hollywood-style ideas, not so much on scientific accuracy. There was a jungle, a live volcano (that a couple of tributes got thrown into), and there were dinosaur mutts roaming around. "Meteor showers" every so often livened things up, as did one attempt at an "Ice Age," in which parts of the arena started to freeze quickly and without warning. There were also roaming hordes of "giant prehistoric insects" and pockets of "prehistoric death gas." Torin had been expected to band together with the other Careers, which he did just long enough to acquire some food and weaponry, but then he bailed on his group. He tamed a few of the dinosaur mutts with food and with simple gestures of kindness (amazing what removing a thorn from an animal's foot can do), and with those mutts, he was able to sweep the arena. The victory was unprecedented, and some wondered if the scientists who had created the mutts grew them less aggressive on purpose to see if something like this would happen. (There was a huge scandal about that, and several scientists lost their jobs and were never heard from again.)
Torin suspects that the reason his shoulder never properly healed was not, as the Capitol doctors claimed, that the damage was too extensive to heal properly, but rather that they healed it improperly on purpose in order to keep him in line. His stunt with taming the mutts wasn't one that endeared him to those in charge, even if no one was really able to decide if it had been an act of survival and genuine misplaced affection for the beasts rather than any sort of stab at subverting the rules. They've kept an eye on Torin, even if he just tries to present himself as a harmless dapper watchmaker with a bad shoulder.
Past victor AU: What district is your character from? How do they feel about home?
Torin is from District 2. He strongly dislikes the way 2 is in bed with the Capitol, and he disapproves of the practices that lead to the choosing of the Career Tributes. It's not the path he would have chosen for himself, and he has a hard time understanding why so many there envy and respect him for it. He is never very cooperative when they want him to start training Tributes before the culling--rules and all, it's not fair--and he rarely gets along well with the Tributes themselves anyway, given the bloodlust so many of them seem to have.
Despite this friction, he doesn't stir up too much trouble. His family's still there, even if he wouldn't bat an eye if something happened to his older brother, and he does provide them financial support. (He can only spend so much money on "watch parts", after all, and he does have a nice side business selling the watches he makes to citizens of the Capitol.) He's still popular to invite to various functions in 2 if they need a Victor there; he's always nicely dressed and considerably more polite than some of the alternatives. In short, they see him as more of a poster boy they can trot out when they need a Victor for a prop rather than a Victor who can actually do anything useful. Torin is okay with this misconception. He and the people who run Two don't actually like each other, but they can keep things civil enough to get things done.
Hunger Games AU and OC: What is your reasoning for the capitol to include your canon doppelganger if they app in?
Torin's canon doppelganger would likely be brought in to freak him the hell out because that is a giant bird-lizard-dinosaur-man, what, and then he'll have awful memories of his stylist covering him in feathers. He might take it as a threat that they'd turn him into some weird mutt if he steps out of line and would not be entirely unconvinced that this is not what has happened to his doppelganger.
Name: Airdra
Other characters: Kousuke Nitou
IN CHARACTER
Name: Torin
Fandom: Voltasaur Sentai Kyoryuger
Canon point/AU: AU
Journal:
bravelypluckedPB: I'll be using Torin's voice actor, Toshiyuki Morikawa, who appeared as a human Torin the one time in canon Torin used a human disguise.
History:
Torin's canon history is here, though his AU history's going to be quite a bit different on account of that whole being a Panem human thing instead of being a millions-of-years-old alien.
Torin's family hailed from District Two, where the competition to be the tributes for the Hunger Games was great. He was the middle child of a high-ranking Peacekeeper's family, with one older brother and a younger sister. His father and oldest brother were both quite alike, and both of them had cruel streaks a mile wide and enjoyed lording their power over the weak. Torin never got along well with them, and they seemed to see his gentleness--for where had that come from in this family?--as weakness. His father wanted one of his children to participate in the Games, but by the time he'd managed to use what influence he had to secure the slot, his eldest son was too old to participate. Torin was pressured into going by both his father and older brother, for they seemed to think this was the family's one chance at the benefits winning the Games could bring...and if Torin failed, well, it wouldn't be too great a loss. Torin, for his part, found himself willing to go if only because it meant his sister wouldn't have to.
The time in the Capitol leading up to the Games themselves was quite unpleasant for Torin. His stylist proved to be inspired by his last name, and feathers were in that season. At one point, he found himself wearing nothing but a Speedo (he was eternally grateful for the Speedo, in retrospect) with feathers glued all over his body, with the stylist deciding that mountain eagles would be the absolute best theme. He did not get along well with any of the other Careers, including the girl from District 2, who blamed him for the feather debacle. He handled himself well enough in interviews despite this, though he came off as being too nice to do much damage--an anamoly from District Two. Those betting on the Games had trouble deciding what odds to place on him; was this being nice thing just an act designed to conceal some ruthlessness, or was it genuine and going to get him killed? Torin didn't team up with the Careers in the Cornucopia as he was supposed to, and from there, he set about making the rather unusual alliance that would win him the Hunger Games.
As far as the Gamemakers were concerned, the major selling point of Torin's arena was the genetically engineered dinosaurs they'd created to populate the place. Torin chose a strategy no one had even considered. He tamed several of these creatures, or at least made everyone else look like a more appealing target to the beasts. And when his opponents got through the dinosaurs, they had to face him and the sword he'd gotten from the Cornucopia. The most memorable moment of the arena had him riding into his final battle aboard a miniature brachiosaurus and brandishing his sword. The resulting fight was brutal, especially when the Gamemakers decided to trigger a "meteor shower of extinction" in the middle of it, and Torin was badly wounded in his right shoulder. The Capitol doctors did their best--so they claimed--but the injury was too great to heal his shoulder back to full functionality. He's got a limited range of movement in his right arm, particularly the shoulder; lifting that arm above his head is rather difficult, and too much strenuous exercise with the arm is painful. He functions well in his day-to-day life, but he's constantly pushing against the limits of what he can do in an attempt to see if he can get any more movement back.
Officially, his talent is watchmaking. He makes old-fashioned watches that are curious enough to be considered works of art, and, on occasion, tiny clockwork dinosaurs (for the kids!). It's enough that nothing at all looks amiss. But in the back room, the place in his workshop where no one is allowed to go, there are much larger clockwork dinosaurs in varying degrees of construction. Some of them look as though they might even be big enough to cause some actual damage once they're complete. It's an unorthodox manner of dabbling in building weaponry, but it's Torin's. He still trains with his sword in secret (and not-so-secret if a Tribute he's mentoring is involved), though his effectiveness is understandably limited. Some days, as he's doing it, he wonders if the Capitol did not fully repair his shoulder on purpose, or if the injury really was as bad as they said. He is very sympathetic to talk of rebellion and would like to do something in that vein himself, but he knows he's got to be careful about how he does it.
Torin has continued to live in District Two, because when it comes to the choice of that or the Capitol, well, anything's better than the Capitol. This also allows him to stay close to his family. He is currently being called back into the Capitol to assist with the new Tributes. He is not exactly jumping at the chance, and he's guessing they're on to the fact that he's not as loyal as he pretends to be.
Presentation:
Torin maintains an air of cool confidence. He's big on bravery. Bravery is, to him, the one thing that can help you survive the worst troubles. He was brave in the arena, and he survived. He is quick to note that bravery is not the absence of fear, but rather the ability to keep going in the face of it. Not letting fear get to you is a good survival strategy in the Arena, and it also serves him well in a world ruled by the heartlessness of the Capitol. He's careful to keep a tight rein on his emotions when he's around others so much as he will not allow any weakness to show. If he's sad, upset, or in pain, he'll hide that. It's not nearly as much of a problem for him to let someone see he's happy or amused, so long as he's not being overtly happy about something someone in the Capitol might see as treasonous.
He has a habit of snapping his fingers for emphasis when he speaks. If he's doing his whole mentor thing and snaps in the middle of whatever he's saying? Paying attention would be a good idea. He'll snap if he gets particularly wound up about an idea or line of thought, most notably anything dealing with bravery. Some suspect it's a sort of nervous tic that's a holdover from his time in the arena, for he would often snap to get the dinosaur mutts' attention.
Appearances are important, and he often looks rather dapper whenever he goes out. He favors wearing white suits and hats when available, and he's always careful to look put together and presentable. There's been a bit of gossip here and there as to whether or not he's had work done or if that distinctive white streak in his hair is really the result of scarring from a head wound sustained during the games like he claims. He's also very polite most of the time. Every so often he'll have a more candid moment and say something that's a little more blunt than it should be (particularly regarding the Capitol or the Games) but he'll quickly segue on into a milder conversation as though nothing has happened. Even if he's being candid, he tries to keep his remarks to generalities and not to single anyone out personally. The white streak in his hair from "that old head wound" comes in handy then as a visual reminder that of course sometimes he may say things he might not mean, and so Torin is very careful to make sure he keeps up the dye job. This attention he pays to his appearance and his general good nature has actually made him quite popular with a subset of older female fans, which he finds a little bewildering. That he has never married or had any significant romantic relationship has only fueled this even more, with hopeful fans thinking they might still have a chance with him...and still others happily rumormongering and speculating as to whether or not he's got a secret lover on the side. (He dies inside a little each time he hears one of those rumors.)
Torin strongly dislikes small talk. He was never fond of it to begin with, and his time in the Capitol has only made that worse. He is, however, quite good at it. It's an easy way for him to keep his distance from people, and it also gives him a chance to observe people and learn their motivations. Torin's generally got a good read on people, and he's mentorly enough to want to give out good advice where he can, regardless if who he's talking to is one of the Tributes he's supposed to be mentoring, someone he's bumped into at a party, or just his young niece and her friends. He has a sort of elder statesman way about him, and he's good at commanding a bit of respect when he needs to.
He's often a surprise to new Tributes and Victors; they tend to expect a Victor from District 2 to be a lot harsher than Torin. Yet he's kind to everyone regardless of their district, unless they've been particularly horrible or inhumane in their arena. Even then, he's never cruel, just cold. He respects good sportsmanship, such as it is, in the arena. In the past, when he's been doing his mentor thing with his Tributes, he's usually the guy they have coach the Tributes on how to deal with the media. He's well put together enough and in control of himself enough that he handles better than a great many other surviving Victors that handling the appearance side of things is widely seen to be his strongest asset. Besides, how much combat training can a mentor give if one of his arms doesn't work right? The smarter Tributes he gets realize that he has a bit more to offer than just advice on dealing with the cameras and the mind games, and they'll wisely ask for combat instruction weighted towards learning how to fight with a crippling injury. Torin tries his hardest to make sure his Tributes survive as best as they are able, and the ones he's lost weigh heavily on him. The way District 2 typically operates sometimes puts him at odds with his Tributes; they aren't as inclined towards compassion as he is, and they're more likely to be at ease with having to kill. Still, they're his responsibility, for better or for worse, and he must work with what he's given.
Motivations:
He hates what the Games are and what they stand for. He hates that they have taken so much from so many, and he hates his own continued involvement with them. That he has benefited from the Games, if only financially, also does not sit well with him. What he went through haunts him, although he's not much for talking about it or admitting just how heavily the memory of the Games wears on him. Getting interviewed about his time in the Games is particularly grating, and he'd like to say it doesn't bother him as much after 30-something years have passed, but it still does. He's at least pleased with himself for having developed enough control over his composure that anyone watching him talk about the Games likely won't realize just how strongly they have had an effect on him.
Anyone who has spent a bit of time in his workshop and thought a little while on what he's making might realize just how much emotional baggage is there. The workshop is, for the most part, filled with clockwork dinosaur parts. It's an eccentricity that seems harmless enough--a watchmaker killing some time and making things for children to play with--but he's got a misplaced sense of guilt over what happened to his dinosaur friends from the arena. The Gamemakers and the Capitol had no use for mutts that could be tamed. A handful of them were kept alive long enough for a photo op with Torin, and then they were all wiped out. Catching Torin at a bad time in his workshop might easily give someone the impression that he is trying to bring them back, as illogical as his means might seem. The tiny, toylike clockwork dinosaurs shouldn't be a problem for anyone, but he's got a few much larger pieces hanging around here and there with dreams of getting a big one functional enough to cause actual damage. He's nowhere near getting one larger than a medium-sized dog functional, but a man can dream in what he considers his one concession to the madness of the Games. And sure, there are better robotic parts he could use, but he's not sure exactly how those work or how he'd even obtain them without stirring up more suspicion than he'd like.
He's really quite lonely. The dapper air of detached calm he has does what he needs it to do--allow him to project a quiet facade of strength no matter the situation--but it also stops others from getting too close. He's never quite recovered from all the loss he saw in the Arena, where anyone he met and might have liked, human or dinosaur, ultimately died. He doesn't like to get close to people for two reasons: most of them would not understand what he's been through, and even if they did, they might be taken from him at any time. Easier to stay alone. It's the same with mentoring the Tributes. He wants to help them out, to try to give them the best possible chances of survival in that Arena, but he knows that even in a best case scenario, only one will survive. He's got to keep some distance there to blunt the pain. His family is still in District 2, and while he has not willingly spoken with his oldest brother in years, he maintains relatively close ties with his sister and her daughter. They're pro-Capitol enough that he hopes familial ties will hopefully overshadow any seditious thoughts he might let slip, and he sometimes wonders if some distance from him would be safest for them.
As far as the Capitol is concerned, he wants them to think he's nothing but an eccentric watchmaker, someone amiable enough to cart out on TV every so often, but not enough of a threat to pay any particular attention to. He has not done as good a job of this as he would like to think. A man can only be pushed so far before something ruffles his feathers enough to break through his facade of calm, and while it doesn't happen often, it still happens from time to time. It's why he's got the carefully dyed white streak in his hair and the story of the "old head injury." He hopes that no one really remembers just how banged up this kid was following the Hunger Games of thirty-something years ago, because he only suffered a few very minor bumps and bruises to the head. Nothing that would leave a lasting effect.
Though it's arguably not done a whole lot for him in this world and there have been a great many times that he's had to hide the extent of it, Torin is very kind. He does not like to see anyone suffer. It pained him to have to kill anyone in his Arena personally (the dinosaurs were lots of help there), and when he was forced into doing so, he tried to make it as quick and clean as possible. If he could, he would protect as many people as possible from the atrocities of the Capitol, but he knows he's not in the best position for that. He's fairly certain that those in charge would see his compassion as a weakness, and it's certainly something his Peacekeeper father tried to drive out of him.
Setting: He would like to put a stop to the Games altogether--and the Capitol's more heinous atrocities--if he could. He knows that's not possible by himself. He only survived his arena through teamwork of a sort, and now? He's just a middle-aged guy with an old injury and a strange dinosaur fixation. The offworld Tributes are a brand-new variable in all this: if he befriended them in the same manner he befriended those mutts in the arena, what would happen? They would all be better off without the Capitol; he can see that much of a common goal.
SAMPLES
First Person Thread:
[The last thing Torin had been expecting was to be namedropped like this. Sure, there were those fans of the Games who were charmed by his rather unorthodox way of winning, of turning some of the hazards into allies in a way the Gamemakers had not forseen, but he still thought he wasn't as interesting as some of the other victors. There were flashier, more memorable Victors out there, ones who liked using the spotlight. Why him?]
Well, they've certainly not been this unusual in a long time.
[There are a great many other things he'd like to say here. How it's unfair. Unfair that these strangers get torn from their lives and forced to fight for the amusement of a population that largely seems to be lacking in common decency. Unfair that these strangers are somehow brought back to life--which is in and of itself some sort of sin against nature--while the Capitol's own citizenry has been dying for years. Even that anyone has had to die in service of these Games ever is bad enough. Torin's no fool. Let too much of that slip, and there will be problems. He would rather take these issues on at a time of his choosing with a little prep time, instead of now, after being namedropped by some idiot who's fawning all over the past victors. Or was this a truly random namedrop? Was this some sort of test?]
There is an interesting range of Tributes here. They've got so many different skill sets to draw from, far different from watching our own children die.
[He's aware he's treading in dangerous waters with that statement, but he could not resist. He smoothly continues on, casually tucking that white streak of hair behind one ear as he does so. Nothing wrong with calling attention to one's supposed "head injury" after saying something like that. Don't mind him.]
They'll provide as much a challenge to each other as the Arena itself will, if they apply themselves properly.
["Apply themselves properly." If they're willing to fight and die for nothing. Torin's barely able to keep the disgust out of his voice at that.]
I can only hope our Gamemakers can rise to the challenge set before them. Consistently keeping things interesting with so little preparation time between each Arena must be very difficult.
[Really, he'd love nothing more than for the Gamemakers completely fail at their task to the point the Tributes escaped and found justice.]
I know I'll be doing my part and training them to the best of my ability. I'm certain these new Tributes will put on a fine show.
[That last sentence is fairly insincere given Torin's feelings about the Games as a whole, but he's had a lot of experience in hiding his disdain and total lack of enthusiasm. Like it or not, he's got a job to do...and he will try to make sure that at one of his Tributes survives.]
Prose:
This is bringing back bad memories. All sorts of bad memories. Torin supposes it must be because they've caught wind of his more traitorous thoughts somehow, of how he'd like to end the barbaric practices of the Games once and for all. Or perhaps they'd realized that the watchmaker had been dabbling in explosive clockwork dinosaurs. He is intensely concerned, yet unafraid. If they kill him, they kill him. It's an inevitability he was forced to accept back in the arena all those years ago. He wonders if they will admit it's actually him, that the Capitol has no problem in culling from their own citizens once more if it suits them, or if he will be passed off as a version of himself from another world. It would not surprise him. There is some concern over his family, but they've all proven themselves to be much more pro-Capitol than him. He doesn't think they'll encounter too many problems with him gone. They'll likely have to publicly renounce him, but he knew his brother would step in and do what needed to be done, speaking for their sister if necessary. They didn't get along, but Torin knew he could count on his brother to carry out any action that involved actively disliking him.
He's not willing to give up just yet. He vows that they will not see him sweat, that they will not see him falter, and that he will be brave. He's glad he never did let those sword skills atrophy, shoulder injury aside. He's pleased to see that there is a blade much like the one he used in his Arena--was this an intentional decision on the part of the Gamemakers? Probably--and he takes it. It feels good in his hand, though his hand is not what he's worried about. It's his shoulder, the old wound that never properly healed, that was never properly reconstructed. It's good enough for day-to-day life, not so good for another run in the Arena. Lucky for him he's quietly worked at fighting with a limited range of motion in the bad arm and building up the strength and dominance of the other arm...not that he's sure he wants them to know the latter just yet.
Torin tosses the Gamemakers a salute with the blade. He knows the drill. He'd known the drill all those years ago. He takes a deep breath, and then he launches himself at those training dummies, slicing and dicing with that sword. He's pleased with his show of skill. The shoulder's not acting up as badly as it might, and he's letting into those dummies with a ferocity that would surprise anyone who knew of his injury. His shoulder is screaming at him in protest at the strain, and it's difficult, and he can't quite execute as many of the moves he was trying for as he might like, but he's pushing through the pain. Covering for those weaknesses. He will not falter. He will not fall. He will be brave.
It's a wonderful performance of swordsmanship, of guarded movements that still prove deadly to the training dummies, at least until the pain in his shoulder becomes too much to bear. It stops him dead in his tracks, and with a grunt of pain, he drops the sword, his other hand reflexively reaching over to clutch at his shoulder, at the old wound. He's cursing himself for that moment of weakness, but maybe he can put it to use. Maybe they'll underestimate him. Or maybe they'll think it's a ruse, that he's healed up better than the doctors said on his victory tour all those years ago. It's hard to say. He wearily picks the blade up with his good arm and gives the Gamemakers another salute. That's it. He's done for now. No sense in straining things any more than he has, not when he's probably going to have to fight again in a short while.
What is your character scored: Torin's score is a 5. He's been docked points thanks to his bad shoulder, but he's still got quite a bit of experience and wisdom when it comes to the Arena, as well as those sword-swinging skills he could bring to bear if his shoulder doesn't give out first. Since this is a human AU, he's got none of the powers that the canon version would have, so no transformations or dinosaur giant robots or shooting energy beams or being an immortal bird-dinosaur-man.
Additional information:
Past victor: Please describe your character's arena, and their relationship with the Capitol since.
Torin's arena was a sort of poorly researched primeval dinosaur world. Big on old Hollywood-style ideas, not so much on scientific accuracy. There was a jungle, a live volcano (that a couple of tributes got thrown into), and there were dinosaur mutts roaming around. "Meteor showers" every so often livened things up, as did one attempt at an "Ice Age," in which parts of the arena started to freeze quickly and without warning. There were also roaming hordes of "giant prehistoric insects" and pockets of "prehistoric death gas." Torin had been expected to band together with the other Careers, which he did just long enough to acquire some food and weaponry, but then he bailed on his group. He tamed a few of the dinosaur mutts with food and with simple gestures of kindness (amazing what removing a thorn from an animal's foot can do), and with those mutts, he was able to sweep the arena. The victory was unprecedented, and some wondered if the scientists who had created the mutts grew them less aggressive on purpose to see if something like this would happen. (There was a huge scandal about that, and several scientists lost their jobs and were never heard from again.)
Torin suspects that the reason his shoulder never properly healed was not, as the Capitol doctors claimed, that the damage was too extensive to heal properly, but rather that they healed it improperly on purpose in order to keep him in line. His stunt with taming the mutts wasn't one that endeared him to those in charge, even if no one was really able to decide if it had been an act of survival and genuine misplaced affection for the beasts rather than any sort of stab at subverting the rules. They've kept an eye on Torin, even if he just tries to present himself as a harmless dapper watchmaker with a bad shoulder.
Past victor AU: What district is your character from? How do they feel about home?
Torin is from District 2. He strongly dislikes the way 2 is in bed with the Capitol, and he disapproves of the practices that lead to the choosing of the Career Tributes. It's not the path he would have chosen for himself, and he has a hard time understanding why so many there envy and respect him for it. He is never very cooperative when they want him to start training Tributes before the culling--rules and all, it's not fair--and he rarely gets along well with the Tributes themselves anyway, given the bloodlust so many of them seem to have.
Despite this friction, he doesn't stir up too much trouble. His family's still there, even if he wouldn't bat an eye if something happened to his older brother, and he does provide them financial support. (He can only spend so much money on "watch parts", after all, and he does have a nice side business selling the watches he makes to citizens of the Capitol.) He's still popular to invite to various functions in 2 if they need a Victor there; he's always nicely dressed and considerably more polite than some of the alternatives. In short, they see him as more of a poster boy they can trot out when they need a Victor for a prop rather than a Victor who can actually do anything useful. Torin is okay with this misconception. He and the people who run Two don't actually like each other, but they can keep things civil enough to get things done.
Hunger Games AU and OC: What is your reasoning for the capitol to include your canon doppelganger if they app in?
Torin's canon doppelganger would likely be brought in to freak him the hell out because that is a giant bird-lizard-dinosaur-man, what, and then he'll have awful memories of his stylist covering him in feathers. He might take it as a threat that they'd turn him into some weird mutt if he steps out of line and would not be entirely unconvinced that this is not what has happened to his doppelganger.
