stillplaying | 7th Game [action/voice]

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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

[You know...no, she probably wouldn't have guessed that at first. Still, she'll try to be encouraging. Maybe what she needs is a helping hand right now.]

Oh! I see. Have you tried them yet?

[She looks down at the oddly shaped burnt mounds and back up at Rapunzel, doubtful.]

Would you try them?

[An excellent question.]

Well...baking really isn't all about the presentation, so I'm sure the could still taste good!

[The words might be meant in good nature, but she still looks doubtful. Peeta's creations always look perfect. Beautiful and edible. They're masterpieces.

She pulls one of the bricks off and sniffs at it hesitantly.]

It doesn't smell good.

[Smell is usually a good indicator, but Rapunzel is determined to remain hopeful.]

Sometimes--good food just smells bad! It couldn't hurt to taste them, I'm sure.

[She pushes the tray towards Rapunzel. An eyebrow raises, doubtful, and she nods.

Go ahead, her expression seems to say. Try one.]

[Challenge accepted.

Rapunzel picks up one of the cookies, albeit hesitantly, and chips off a piece to put in her mouth.

...Okay, it's pretty bad. But Rapunzel is a trooper and she chews and swallows. And grins.]

It's different!

[She watches the other girl carefully, searching for the slightest hint of disgust. The hesitance is clear and really, Katniss can't blame her.

She wouldn't want to eat her baked goods, either.

It's difficult not to grin, just a little, when Rapunzel declares the cookie different.] You mean disgusting.

[Rapunzel can't help a sheepish in return.] Well...they could maybe use a little improvement. I could help you, if you'd like?

[She's hesitant but at least she sort of knows Rapunzel. Has talked to the girl a few times before. It's not like with the woman who offered help earlier. Not an utter stranger. But she's still wary about accepting help. It's habit she doesn't know how to break.]

You don't mind?

[Luckily, Rapunzel is one all to ready to help, regardless of Katniss' hesitation.]

Not at all! I'd be happy to help. Baking is one of my favorite things to do.

[She looks at the mess around her. It's only been two days. Two days of trying to bake, trying to keep the bakery running. It's an easy to decide on her own opinion.]

I don't like it very much.

[She'd so much rather hunt.]

[She starts gathering up things--ingredients and cooking tools, things that she knows can do into a recipe for cookies.]

That's okay. You've got other things you're very good at.

[Everyone does.]

[Most of the things she's good at involve death and destruction. It's not like Peeta's talents. He creates, gives in his paintings and his baking.

But...]

I'm good at singing.

[This makes her pause, and turn to Katniss with a smile.]

Really? You sing? Will you sing something for me?

[It had been a while since she had sung here. Since Rue left, really. She just hadn't really seen the need. Hadn't quite had the same desire.

But the girl was helping her, for no real reason other than that she wanted to. It was, maybe, the least she could do in return.]

Okay.

Deep in the meadow, under the willow
A bed of grass, a soft green pillow
Lay down your head, and close your eyes
And when they open, the sun will rise.

Here it's safe, and here it's warm
Here the daisies guard you from every harm
Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true
Here is the place where I love you.

[Her voice is quiet at first, a little rusty. But as she continues to sing, it grows stronger. The kind of voice that, if someone asked Peeta, could make the birds fall quiet.]

[Rapunzel is pleasantly surprised when she does actually sing--usually, such requests are met with resistance and people aren't quite so cooperative. A huge grin spreads over her face as she listens to Katniss sing, a warm feeling blossoming in her chest.]

Oh, Katniss, that was wonderful! You have a beautiful voice. You should sing for the journal sometime!

Thank you.

[The compliment is met with a small smile, albeit one that's a little shy. It's different, hearing those words from someone she doesn't necessarily know all that well. Peeta's biased and Rue... well, she doubts the little girl could ever judge someone's musical abilities harshly.

But... singing for the journal, for a whole audience? That's something she hadn't done since she was small. She still remembers how much she loved to sing in those school assemblies.]

I don't know if people would want to listen.

[She starts to assemble ingredients again, lining things up on the counter in front of them.]

Well, of course they would! I mean, music makes people happy, especially when it's beautiful! And your singing is beautiful, so I'm sure it would make people happy.

[To her, it's just as simple as that.]

[Making people happy has never been simple to her. It's always been difficult and never really successful.

Still, Peeta's always enjoyed it when she's sung.]

Maybe.

[A maybe is definitely a start, and enough for Rapunzel to work with.]

We could even sing together, if you want! Singing is something I really enjoy, too.

Do you know a lot of songs?

Well, I don't know too many...usually I just make them up as I go along!

[That was something she never tried. She imagines that it'd be difficult.]

My father taught me most of the ones I know. They're mostly native to my District.

I know a few songs my--mother taught me too...did you sing a lot with him?

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