stillplaying | 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.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[He nods.] Anyway, to give a specific example. If I'm to be involved in any of it, figure I might as well steer things in a better direction.

[Maybe. It's a lot like what she did, isn't it? The berries, the assassination. She hadn't asked to be involved in any of their Games, not initially.]

Do you go on the missions?

Yeah.

Often?

Increasingly.

Why?

There's chances to help people. I can keep my skills sharp. Really, I could give you a variety of reasons, but if I were to pick the most important?

You attract more flies with honey than vinegar.

[She's heard that before. Heard it from Haymitch repeatedly. But she knows that there's little use. She's not likable. She never has been. Why would that ever really change?]

I'm not good at honey.

[He laughs.] This situation is different than most. You can qualify as honey just by showing you don't want stab them in the throat with a fork on sight.

[ooc: thanks for that o/]

Edited 2012-09-03 17:39 (UTC)

[Maybe. Though she's not entirely sure. That just seems... too easy.]

I won't harm anyone that's not a threat.

[ooc: no problem! :) ]

Trust me: you go on missions and the Malnosso are the least of your problems.

How?

They're not the ones you're up against, most missions. Malnosso aren't the only ones out there, after all.

[She remembers. She's tried to forget but she remembers now. The other winged people, the ones on that moon. Some of them as frightening as mutts. People that they had to fight, kill.

That she had to kill.]

The people from the draft.

The Third Party. You don't think they only bother to show up when they send us out, do you? They wage constant attacks, against the Malnosso, other enclosures, and civilians alike.

[Mostly, she just hadn't given them much thought. The nightmares were bad enough.]

Why?

There's a way to permanently kill people in this world. They want do that. Possibly they have other motives, but they're not a chatty bunch.

[...that's news to her. And not exactly good news at that. A way to permanently kill people here. In the place where death isn't supposed to be permanent.]

There is?

Yeah. Go back far enough on the journals, and you can find a man being sacrificed.

For what?

[Looking back on John's response, at the time it was classified. But ~~given I think it would've been locked from the Malnosso unlike the sacrifice itself~~ it might not be safe to discuss it here. The guy's still around.]

The only thing you hear them say is when the deed is done: that he was freed.

[That didn't really make much sense to her. The deed was done and he was free. It didn't go together in her head.

She scowled.]

He was dead.

Yeah. Never said I agreed with them.

[She can't blame him for that. Not at all.]

Did they ever sacrifice anyone else?

That's a given, don't you think? But if you mean anyone from this enclosure, or someone on display for this enclosure, then no. None that I know of.

[Voice]

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