Katniss Everdeen (
stillplaying) wrote2012-08-19 01:01 pm
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Entry tags:
7th Game [action/voice]
[Action]
[The bakery is a mess. She never meant for it to end up that way. It just sort of happened. Flour covering hair and body, the smell of something burning from the kitchen, flecks of pink frosting teasing her cheeks. Peeta's normally presentable window displays are less than ideal; a poor attempt at recreating the alluring cakes that always caught her attention back in District Twelve. The frosting's melted from the summer heat on one that's sat out since Friday. Another is poorly covered with a grey color -- an attempt at mixing food dyes gone horribly wrong.
Ingredients for various baked goods have somehow escaped the kitchen, piled up on the counters, half covering the note cards Peeta had left for her. Cookbooks borrowed from the library lie open elsewhere, pages now far from pristine. Half baked pretzels stock the shelves along with burnt chocolate chip cookies. Deformed cheese breads and crumbled brownie bites still in their trays sit nearby. Even Buttercup, easily pleased by any free food, ignores the easy pickings.
She tried. She had tried so hard. Peeta had left her recipes. Had tried to teach her how to bake on lazy days when she was more content to spend time with him in the bakery than go about her own thing. It seems that every lesson has been forgotten. Any skill she might have had in the kitchen, utterly gone.
The rain pours outside as she plucks at the rock hard shortbread cookies she's recently retrieved from the oven, trying her best to peel them from the tray. It's a halfhearted effort as she leans her head against her hand and stares out the window. She'd rather be hunting. But it's been raining ever since Peeta left for his mission, raining so hard, all she's been able to do is check a couple of the traps in the river behind their house. And she had promised, hadn't she? Promised she'd look after the bakery?
Look how miserably she failed, the worry making it hard to breathe, harder to concentrate. Shouldn't he be back by now? Shouldn't he?
Every few minutes, she checks the journal for signs of life. Ignores Buttercup begging for real food. Glances at the door to see if Peeta's finally return. No luck. No luck at all. He's supposed to be back today. Why isn't he back yet?]
[Voice]
Why do you bother? [The words aren't meant to be recorded in the journal, but they are, anyway. It barely processes to Katniss that she's left it laying open, close enough to pick up any mutterings.] Going on these missions? Being a piece in their games?
It's stupid. This is all stupid.
[ooc: timed to after mission is over, when people start arriving home. but if you want to tag during -- feel free to have katniss in the bakery making a mess from friday on!
also, edit for warning of sexual content in the Peeta thread.]
[The bakery is a mess. She never meant for it to end up that way. It just sort of happened. Flour covering hair and body, the smell of something burning from the kitchen, flecks of pink frosting teasing her cheeks. Peeta's normally presentable window displays are less than ideal; a poor attempt at recreating the alluring cakes that always caught her attention back in District Twelve. The frosting's melted from the summer heat on one that's sat out since Friday. Another is poorly covered with a grey color -- an attempt at mixing food dyes gone horribly wrong.
Ingredients for various baked goods have somehow escaped the kitchen, piled up on the counters, half covering the note cards Peeta had left for her. Cookbooks borrowed from the library lie open elsewhere, pages now far from pristine. Half baked pretzels stock the shelves along with burnt chocolate chip cookies. Deformed cheese breads and crumbled brownie bites still in their trays sit nearby. Even Buttercup, easily pleased by any free food, ignores the easy pickings.
She tried. She had tried so hard. Peeta had left her recipes. Had tried to teach her how to bake on lazy days when she was more content to spend time with him in the bakery than go about her own thing. It seems that every lesson has been forgotten. Any skill she might have had in the kitchen, utterly gone.
The rain pours outside as she plucks at the rock hard shortbread cookies she's recently retrieved from the oven, trying her best to peel them from the tray. It's a halfhearted effort as she leans her head against her hand and stares out the window. She'd rather be hunting. But it's been raining ever since Peeta left for his mission, raining so hard, all she's been able to do is check a couple of the traps in the river behind their house. And she had promised, hadn't she? Promised she'd look after the bakery?
Look how miserably she failed, the worry making it hard to breathe, harder to concentrate. Shouldn't he be back by now? Shouldn't he?
Every few minutes, she checks the journal for signs of life. Ignores Buttercup begging for real food. Glances at the door to see if Peeta's finally return. No luck. No luck at all. He's supposed to be back today. Why isn't he back yet?]
[Voice]
Why do you bother? [The words aren't meant to be recorded in the journal, but they are, anyway. It barely processes to Katniss that she's left it laying open, close enough to pick up any mutterings.] Going on these missions? Being a piece in their games?
It's stupid. This is all stupid.
[ooc: timed to after mission is over, when people start arriving home. but if you want to tag during -- feel free to have katniss in the bakery making a mess from friday on!
also, edit for warning of sexual content in the Peeta thread.]
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Katniss?
[action]
[The tray of chocolate chip cookies she had been carrying out from the kitchen, perhaps her only decent batch the whole weekend, is dropped to the floor when she sees him enter. She stands there, frozen except for her grey eyes, which search him up and down for any visible injuries.
The relief is visible when she finds none. Finds nothing but Peeta, standing in front of her like he never left.]
Peeta. [And then she's running towards him, hugging him tight.]
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I'm sorry. I was just doing makeup the whole time. I wasn't in any danger.
[It's a lie, of course. If their cover had been blown, they'd have all been killed.]
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How could she have been so stupid? So damned selfish as to let him go alone? What was she thinking?]
No more. [She barely gets out the words, throat suddenly choked up with angry, worried tears.] Please? No more missions.
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The easy solution would be to go with him. To give in to the Malnosso and go on their damned missions.
But the easiest solution is to give in to her worry now, her anger. Pull back, wipe at the tears in her eyes, and shove him. Hard. Much like she did that night during the first reaping he told all of Panem he was in love with her.]
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Ow! What the hell, Katniss?
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Still, she looks guilty. Just for a moment before the stony face is back.]
You're going to, aren't you? Go on more missions.
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Cinna.
It's too, too familiar.]
You could have died. [The words are a whisper. And then the anger comes back.] You said you weren't in any danger!
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Tried to keep it operational while you were gone.
[She couldn't hunt. Not properly, not in this rain. What else was there to do, but bake and pretend she was okay with Peeta being gone?]
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And it makes her question, not for the first time, what he's ever seen in her? How he could risk so much for someone so awful?]
It's my fault. I...
[...couldn't hunt. Couldn't sleep. Kept worrying. Kept hating herself for not going with him. But she doesn't know how to say any of that aloud.]
Re: [action]
[Now his anger abates to a dull murmur, and he tries to take her in his arms.] Listen. I won't go on any more missions, okay? You did what you could, here. I shouldn't've left you by yourself.
[action]
The dandelion in the spring. The boy with the bread. It's her job to protect him. Just like it's his, to show her how life can be good again.
What would she have done if she had lost him? That?
She's not sure what comes over her then. The impulse that washes over. But before she can stop herself, her hands are on his shoulders and her lips are pressed against his in a kiss.]
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But she does. Eventually. And it's with a faint smile on her lips despite the conflicting emotions inside.]
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Because kissing Peeta means she can block everything else out. Means she doesn't have to worry about him being gone. Doesn't have to think about this stupid game they're trapped in. And more than that, she can reassure herself. Reassure herself that he's alive and here. Here with her and not going anywhere.
Arms wrap around his neck this time and she steps as close to him as she can possibly get. Somehow, it doesn't feel close enough.]
[action]
At least, it must be as real as their day on the rooftop, before the Quarter Quell. It has to be at least that real. Her mouth is hot and her lips are warm and dry, so it feels real. Even if she goes cold again in a second, let this be real.]
[action]
This is real. This is so very real. She's nearly lost him -- how many times? Between the Games and his hijacking and the stupid missions and shifts and -- too many times. She doesn't want to let go, doesn't ever want to let go again.
Giving in to the hunger, that's what she wants. Fingers curl against the nape of his neck and she gives a contented sigh at the decision. Not wanting to stop. That's actually real.]
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For a second she flounders, grips the back of his t-shirt tightly before any kind of instinct to wrap her legs around his waist kicks in. But that doesn't seem to stop him and that just seems to fuel the hunger further. Without hesitating, she deepens the kiss, pressing her lips harder against his.]
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Is this it? Are we together?
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[action] Keywords
[action] awww keywords ;;
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[action] The next morning.
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