stillplaying | 9th Game

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9th Game

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[She woke up to an empty bed, an empty bed and an empty house. That was not necessarily unusual. Some mornings, those following nights she'd usually be unable to sleep, she'd usually slip out to the woods. Those mornings would be spent checking or securing traps, harvesting for nuts and autumnal plants. And, of course, hunting. Losing herself in the thrill of the pursuit, of that sweet moment when her arrow sinks into her prey. It wasn't just her. Even without the events that were to come later, Peeta's dreams could be just as haunted and his sleep just as restless. What hunting did to soothe her nerves, baking did for him.

He'd be at the bakery. She was certain of it. Even if, the past week, they had barely left each other's side, making up for the three weeks lost while Peeta was unconscious. But honeymoons and vacations couldn't last forever. Today was as good a day as any to break it.

After a quick shower and brief breakfast, she heads towards the bakery. But the building is still empty for the day. Lights off, oven cold. There's no sign of him.

The sinking feeling in her stomach grows and grows as she searches the village. She checks all the stores, the restaurants and bars, even the welcome center and school. Nothing. There's nothing. If he'd gone any further, he would have left a note. Unlike her, Peeta's responsible. He knows how easily she worries.

Mid-morning, she conducts a second unsuccessful search of the bakery for signs of her boyfriend. If he had wandered away for supplies earlier, he'd be back now. Back for a full day's work. But there's nothing. There's nothing. She manages to get outside without crying. Manages to make it halfway back to the house before sinking to her knees behind the weapons shop. She leans back against the wall, fumbling in her jacket for her journal. Frantically, she searches it.

Nothing. No sign of him. He's gone.

After what seems like forever, when all the tears are done, she opens the journal again. Without a pen, she's left little choice but to speak. Her voice is a little shaky but otherwise devoid of emotion. Monotonous. Its too hard to feel right now.]

[Voice]

Peeta Mellark has returned to Panem. He's not here. I can't find him anywhere.

For those that knew him -- he'll live.

[There's a long pause. It's stupid to say, she thinks. But she remembers his arrival. Remembers how he thought this was the 75th Games. He was from her past, from a past with a horrible, horrible future to look forward to.

But he'll live. She has to cling to that. Even if he'll hate her, never love her like he did here. It was a love she didn't deserve. And a love that she'll never, ever have again.]

Rapunzel, the bakery is yours.

[Action]

[She has to force herself up to her feet. There are other things she needs to do, belongings she ought to sort through. Somehow, she makes it back to House 43. The door is left open as she goes upstairs to his studio. Paintings. She should get rid of the paintings. The art gallery. Or something. But as soon as she sees the half-finished portrait of herself, of a girl that appears infinitely more beautiful than she's ever felt, she knows she can't stay.

The door is slammed shut to the room, Buttercup ignored as she runs down the stairs. She grabs a backpack and stuffs it with a bare minimum of clothing and provisions. Her quiver and bow are slung over her arm and she steps outside. She turns around to regard the house - the house once shared with the small girl from District Eleven and the boy from her own District, her everything. On afterthought, she locks the door.

And then she begins her trek in the western woods towards the treehouses by the Western Lake.]

[ooc: regarding action sections - feel free to catch her in any of the bolded areas!

Also - WARNINGS for the Katniss and Clove thread. Please do not read if you have troubles with depressive and suicidal thought and violence and death.]

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[She sits in one corner of the treehouse she and Rue had claimed for themselves so long ago. She sits, knees pulled up to her chest and arms wrapped tightly around them. It's how she's been for the past few hours, ever since she had somehow made her way to her old home. Sometimes, she reaches for the journal just so that she can take a peak. Maybe she had been wrong, maybe Peeta had just been... somewhere else. But the longer the day lasts, the more she gives in to the sinking feeling in her heart.

The rope ladder dangles down from the entrance and she can hear it, sometime, swaying in the wind. She can also hear someone down below. Someone walking, searching? For a moment, her hopes are lifted again. But the sound of the steps isn't right. Peeta walks with a limp thanks to his prosthetic leg. It's not him, not him at all.

Maybe she should go for her bow. Maybe she should make her presence known. Instead, she ignores it. Legs are pushed closer to her body as she tries to make herself as small as possible. Maybe if she ignores the sounds long enough, they'll go away.]

[When she doesn't show, he starts ascending the rope ladder. He's never been up in this tree house, so his attention is a little off as he takes in the sights. But as he reaches the top, he calls out.]

Katniss?

[She hears the creak of the ladder as it pulls on the attached branch. The way the rope strains a little under the weight. And then the voice from the little balcony outside. On instinct, her head turns to look out the window and then the heavy cloth flap that makes up the door. Her head tilts a little to the side and lips press together in a tight frown. She can’t quite see who it is approaching, be it a friend or a foe. Not that she’s likely to respond to either right now, not when she’s all curled up against one wall as she is. Whoever is out there can come in if they want. There’s nothing to stop them.

But that little bit of self-preservation still in her somewhere does have her scrambling forward a few seconds later towards one of her hunting knives. The action is loud and not at all graceful, something anyone outside can hear. Her hand closes around the hilt and she clutches it close to her as she resumes her huddled position, eyes trained on the door.]

[He does hear it, which is why he enters cautiously and with his hands up.]

It's okay, Katniss. It's just me.

[He's not here to fight. Just to talk.]

[She looks up at the voice, taking in the familiar face. Sokka. Someone she talks with. Someone she doesn't think will hurt her. The knife falls from her hand to the floor. But she remains sitting. There's no reason to stand or to be the polite hostess. It's not like she asked for the company anyway.

She stares at him a few seconds longer, almost thoughtful.] Why are you here?

[A moment of tension passes before he finally sits down, cross legged, and a fair distance from her.]

I heard what happened. [He takes a moment to focus on her eyes.] So I figured I had to come.

[She never takes her eyes off him as he makes himself comfortable within the treehouse. She could kick him out. Yell at him, tell him to go and not come back. She's not exactly feeling all that well suited towards company. Not today, not so soon after Peeta's disappearance.

But she doesn't say any of that. Doesn't do anything but watch him sit and listen to his words, only glancing away when his eyes seek out her own.]

Why?

Because.

[Suddenly all those words of advice, encouragement, and helpfulness he'd come up with on the way over didn't seem to come as easily. He crossed his arms, tensing as he tried to think of something profound and heartfelt. But he was never really good at those things.]

Because Peeta. He's gone. And. [He's keenly aware of the pendant against his chest. He manages to keep himself from going for it.]

And I've been there.

[She tries to think back to any memory that would confirm what the boy claims. That he's been there. That he knows what it's like to lose someone you love. Someone you'd sacrifice everything for, even your life.

Maybe. She thinks she remembers something. Something about a girl, before she really started to get to know Sokka.

She looks back at him when he says that, curious. She shouldn't be curious about this, about someone else's suffering. But she is.]

You have?

[Sokka reaches inside his tunic, pulling out a pendant held by a long thin chain. It's an image of waves over the ocean.]

We were engaged. Not at home, though. Just here.

[She watches suspiciously when he reaches for something inside his tunic. An old habit, something left from the Hunger Games and the war, when you just didn't know what the person near you might be hiding.

Usually, though, it's not a pendant.

Nor an admittance of an engagement.]

Peeta proposed to me once. [Though it's not the same, she knows. Not at all. It had taken her so much longer to realize she loved him. It's a story she's not shared with anyone here, though all of Panem knows it well.] I said yes. I had to. Panem had to believe we were in love because it was the only way to convince people that I hadn't rebelled in the Hunger Games. That my act with the berries had been nothing more than the act of a love struck girl.

I didn't love him then. But he had been in love with me since even before we were thrown into the Games together. He- [A sob interrupts her story. It hurts. It hurts so damn much.] -how could I have been so stupid?

[A fake engagement. From a boy that loved a girl not even interested in him. It's not his story, certainly. But he empathizes. The choked sob snaps him from his own memories and it's like a knife cutting through him.

He'd tried so hard not to shed tears when Suki left. He tried to be angry, not sad. He hadn't entirely succeeded.]

You didn't know what you had, right? Sometimes... sometimes it takes a while.

[She nods. It had gotten more complicated than that. A fake marriage. A fake pregnancy. All to gainer sympathy and support from the Capitol citizens when the star-crossed lovers of District 12 returned to the arena. All to protect Peeta, her mother. Prim and Gale. Even Haymitch.

All of it a lie. All of it things she never wanted.

Until now.]

Did she love you?

[He doesn't have to even think about it. He just nods, immediately.]

I know she did.

[She watches how easy the question is to answer for him. Peeta never had that luxury. Not really, not until that masquerade when she came out and said she loved him without even realizing the words she had spoken until after. And that had only been what? A few measly weeks before he had been sent home.

She feels horrible. Guilty. He'd never remember. He might never know how much she loves him, not ever again.]

You're lucky.

[He lets out a hollow laugh.]

I don't feel lucky. Not since she left.

[It's not easy being the ones left behind. A sharp pain stabs at her heart again and she runs her fingers through strands loosened from her braid, willing herself not to start crying.

Again.]

I... Peeta only got to know for a couple of weeks. And it doesn't matter now, anyway. He's gone back. He's going to be hijacked by Snow and whatever love he might have though I had for him is going to be twisted. And then he's going to try to kill me.

What happens after that?

[Because she's not dead, right? They have a chance for happiness back home, right?]

The rest of the uprising.

[The statement is far, far too simple for what really happens next. But how can she even begin to explain the nuances that had really occurred after? Every little detail, every little fear. He would be here all night. Her heart would break into so many little pieces remembering. A condition worse than it was already in.

But there are some things worth mentioning. She takes a deep breath and looks down at the floor of the treehouse.]

The doctors in District 13, Dr. Aurelius especially, try help to rehabilitate him. All the Districts eventually join together against the Capitol. Even 2 falls. And I get approved to go to the Capitol, last battlefield left, even if it's just to film propos. Because I was their best weapon. The face of the rebellion, their Mockingjay.

But then President Coin, the leader of District 13 and the uprising, sends Peeta to join us. I think she sent him in hope that he'd kill me again. He didn't. Kill me. [But he had tried, had been responsible for other deaths the moment everything had gone wrong. She remembers, in horrible detail, Boggs stepping on an unlabeled pod - a booby trap left by the Capitol in their own streets - that had blown his legs off. How it had triggered an episode in Peeta and Mitchell died trying to get him off of her.

She doesn't want to continue talking. It hurts. It hurts so much. But if she talks, she won't dwell. Won't think of all the pain she had survived.]

He wanted us to kill him. The monster that Snow had turned him into. I should've, probably. Would've made it easier to complete my mission to assassinate President Snow - a mission that I gave myself. But I couldn't. He was too important.

[To the mission, she had claimed at the time. But she knows better than to believe that lie now.]

We split up eventually. And when I see him again, it's... it's-- [It's when Prim dies. When she watches her sister become that human torch. All those parachutes, parachutes that should promise relief and deliver nothing but fire and misery instead. She shakes her head. She can't finish that thought.] The Capitol falls. Snow's imprisoned. And true to her word, Coin leaves him for me to kill. But I don't. I kill her instead. I kill her for my sister, for all those lives she had thrown away to obtain control of Panem. I kill her so she can never manipulate me again.

And then I try to bite down on a nightlock pill. But Peeta, for whatever reason, he stops me. He keeps me from killing myself.

[A losing war. A dead sister. Betrayal, assassinations. He is not unfamiliar with war. He knows loss. But the way she describes it is so full of despair. Without hope. A campaign of failure.

He knew the taste of that all too well. But to lose her sister, Sokka can't imagine it.

Where is the upside to all this? Her sister dies, the world is in a brutal war, and there's so little hope. But...]

Whatever reason? Living is a good enough one, isn't it? All of that sounds terrible. But it's still worth living. You didn't do it. I don't really understand the world you're from and I'm not much of an optimist, but life's worth living, even if it's not a good one.

That was a lot easier to believe when Peeta was here.

[When he would say those exact same words to her, remind her of the love that he held for her. When he was the daffodil in the spring, some meaning in this horrible world. That life could get good again.

But would the Peeta she had left behind, the Peeta that had absolutely no reason to save her life, ever be capable of doing the same? That boy was hijacked to fear and hate her. Even after overhearing his discussion with Gale, she still had her doubts.]

I know. [Things are always easier when the people you love is there to keep you steady.]

But you still owe it to him to keep living the way he'd want you to, right? He's not gone. Not for good.

[More attempts at an optimism she just can't feel. He's right. Peeta's not gone. He's back in Panem. But she doesn't know how to get back there. Or how to force the Malnosso to bring him back to her.

She shakes her head.]

What if I never get back?

I'd give you a speech about hope, but I'm heading towards three years. [His shoulder slump and he lands back, supporting himself with his hands.]

Maybe you'll move on. You won't forget. Unless the Malnosso do something to your head, anyway. But otherwise, you won't get over it. But there might be someone else, eventually. Or maybe there won't be. I know it's what I'm supposed to be doing this time.

It's probably the wrong advice, but I think they're worth waiting for.

[Three years. She can't imagine being here three years. Just like she can't imagine loving someone that isn't Peeta Mellark. How could any boy, or man, ever compare to him? His stubborn refusal to let her die. That goodness that always drew others to him. And that amazing will he had not only to survive, but to remain true to himself despite all the odds. Not to let them change him, even when Snow just about succeeded at that.

She doesn't think that it's the wrong advice. If anything, it's the words that she thinks she wants to hear. That Peeta's worth waiting for. Worth fighting to get back to.]

How long has she been gone?

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9th Game

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