stillplaying | 12th Game [voice/action]

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12th Game [voice/action]

[There are some nights where she can't sleep. Can't fall asleep to begin with, can't stay asleep once she's there. The nightmares become too intense. She awakes crying, screaming, gasping for breath. Curled up in a ball, clutching her knees to her chest in as tight a fetal position as she can get. And alone. So very, very alone in the dark, dark room.

Those kinds of nights have grown more and more common since Peeta's departure, since her death. Even Buttercup's plaintive mewling in the night hasn't made it any better. The pain and fear doesn't fade. It lasts long, long into the morning on the nights she's unable to go back to sleep. Turns into another fitful nightmare otherwise.

In one short month, there's been a lot to think about. Too much to think about. She's been stuck here a year now. Seen various shifts and experiments. Fallen in love and then lost that love. Died. In the most recent shift, while she hadn't been forced to fall in love against her will, she had watched it happen, even observed it first hand in once case. All of it, more than anything, had made her think of Peeta.

Think and mourn until she thought that she would burst from all the heartache.

During the early morning, she awoke screaming, thrashing in her bed as her nightmares played Prim's death out for her again. Prim's death followed by that of Rue's. And Peeta's electrocution in the clock arena. How she had screamed and rushed forward, how he would have been dead if not for Finnick's quick thinking.

So, so many deaths. And all because of her.

As she moves about in the bed, screaming and crying, she knocks the journal down on the floor. Buttercup mews and she just screams again, a wordless, animal scream. Whimpering and sobbing, she does eventually come to her senses. Her body remains cocooned in the sheets as she reaches for the journal, face tear-stained and lost.

She misses him. Maybe more than that, she misses having someone to comfort her in the night when the memories get to be too much.]

Gale was right. [The words are whispered, an acknowledgment to words long past that she once overheard. It's never going to be about love for her. It'll only be about who will extend her longevity in the end. Who'll make her life easier to bear. And if Peeta's not here, how could it possibly be him?

She stares at the journal a few minutes more before clearing her voice and finally speaking, wiping away any lingering tears.]

I know that when you die here, they'll take things from you. And they'll change things during the shifts. Hijack you and alter your memories.

Can you get them to do that even outside a shift? How would you contact them? I-- I want them gone. The memories of Peeta being here. I don't want to miss him anymore, miss--

[Being in love. Being loved. But she doesn't know how to say that part aloud. She wishes for a brief moment she had kept some of that candy from the spa. The stuff that made her open up more. It'd make this all the more easier.]

Is there a magic? Please? Something, anything? I don't have much to offer, but I am a good hunter. I'll trade game and pelts. Anything you want.

I want to move on. I want to forget. And I don't know how else to do it. [Richard's advice comes to mind. She's already thrown herself in hunting, thrown herself in anything and everything she can think of to distract her. It hasn't worked. Not at all. So that leaves only the other thing he recommended: moving on.] He might never come back. I might never go back. I-- I don't want to be lonely anymore. I want to move on.

[With that, she closes the journal to go get dressed. Her hair is pulled back in a messy braid before she heads out. Not to hunt. Not today. Instead, she goes to the library. She has research to do.]

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[He's coming over. That means she should open the door to let him in. Close the journal and get out of the bed. There's nothing in the darkness that can harm her. If she wants, she can reach for the small knife she keeps in the drawer of the bedside table. Can wrap and pull the sheet with her, pretend that Peeta's scent really does still linger on it.

She can't remember where Teddy lives, but the town isn't very big. And she knows he's different. Not human. Not a muttation, either. But still different enough that it might not take him the same amount of time to cross the village as it would her.

Katniss finally closes the journal and stands from the bed. Much to Buttercup's annoyance, she tugs the sheet from its resting place and forces the cat to the floor. Not bothering to turn on any lights, she wraps it tightly around her shoulder and makes her way to the front door.

Once it's open, she takes a seat on the living room couch and waits.]

[She isn't saying much, just one word. She doesn't trust him enough to say anymore than that, but that's perfectly okay. He doesn't blame her for it. They've just met via voice and without a face, not to mention this is a sensitive topic that you just don't discuss with anyone. But she aired it out in the open for everyone to hear, so this could very well be a cry for help, despite the fact that she's asking for a way to forget her memories of Peeta.

While he won't ask for more information concerning her well-being, he'll at least try to convince her that this isn't the way to go. That no matter how painful it is right now, she will eventually overcome.]

...It's not easy to live your life when someone you love have been taken away from you. You ask yourself, why? What have I done to deserve this? All you have left is their memories and they give you grief instead of joy. And all you want more than anything in the world is for that one to return to your arms again.

[He's not trying to lecture her or anything of the sort, but is trying to show that he can relate to her in some way. By saying he understands how she might be feeling right now could open a doorway for him to come in and give her the relief that she needs]

Edited 2013-03-11 22:49 (UTC)

I don't actually know a spell to make you forget. I just know one that makes you remember.

[Vash doesn't really know the whole story to what happened between these two, but he knows very well what it's like to miss someone who is gone.] Are you sure you really want to forget them that badly? If you miss them so much they must have been really important to you.

[Pepper doesn't know Katniss at all, really. She barely knew Peeta while he had been there. But he'd said something that stayed with her as he struggled with a difficult choice, and it seems relevant to share now.]

I don't know if Peeta ever told you this, but he wasn't sure about showing his work in the gallery--the paintings of Rue, specifically. He told me that she was killed, and he didn't want to put her on display. But he also said it would be just as bad for her to be forgotten.

... Sorry. It's been asked before. As far as I know, no one's... really managed it yet.

I'd be real careful of asking for people to mess with your head that way. It might bring you some temporary relief, but the cost could very well not be worth it, including losing parts of yourself you'll never get back if they're tied into whatever you get wiped out.

Won't lie to you; it's going to hurt, for a long time. Best advice I can offer if you don't want people hacking into your memories is just find someone to talk to until it passes. And find someone you can trust to tell about the dreams and what's eating you, someone you can trust to listen and maybe give you a different view on it. Help you get a different perspective and let you know you're not as alone as you think you are when it gets bad.

It won't cure you, but sometimes having someone to share the pain with can help. And eventually, you'll get to the point where you can manage.

It's not much, but I might know something that could help. The effects won't last long, but I can try a few different things.

[Kohaku would feel so bad if she couldn't be able to help a person with this kind of problem. She knows that feeling.]

[That pain... it was something Suki knew. Even though Sokka was still around, she felt like she lost him and was only now on the road to recovery. But hearing the words she thought to herself over and over again since the break up stirred up emotions Suki thought were long gone.

It made it hard for Suki to speak, but she had to.]

You really don't want that. Trust me.

I have no interest in physical items. I never have, really. The only coin here is in effect good will and favors. [He shrugs.] Thus what I would ask is your good will.

Edited 2013-03-12 05:16 (UTC)

[It's only a moment after she opens the door that Teddy lands, slides his shirt and coat on again after shifting his second wings into his back, then heads over to the door. He figures it's open, unless Katniss expects him to break in or something, but he still knocks first, just to let her know he's there, and then pushes it open.

Dark. Of course it's dark. He squints slightly, eyes shifting just slightly to better his gaze, making it easier to see despite the darkness.]

Katniss? [It might be hard to see, but when he closes the door and takes a few steps inside, it's easy to spot her. On the couch, sheet around her shoulders, though her expression is a bit hard to see...

He goes to the couch too, eyes returning to normal before he sits, one hand on his own knee, the other sliding around to hold the shoulder furthest from him. He won't pull her to his side yet - not yet, not until he's sure she wants touch, or just to talk.]

Hey...

[ not moving, no. just shifting and bumping in the bag itself. sharpe lowers the sack and opens its mouth, revealing a dim interior. but even still, a few crudely formed shapes can be seen.

the bag is filled with animals. wooden animals, clearly carved by himself. they show a progression of skill, as some are better than others. some he's particularly proud of.

sharpe fishes an elephant out of the bag and holds it up to the light. sheepishly, he explains: ] You live here all alone, lass. I thought you could use a few billetmates.

[ but there are so many here! he must have been working on them for months. and now, in the wake of her outburst over the journal, this is the only gesture he can imagine making. he isn't good with words; he isn't very good with gifts, neither, having only given on his whole life before now. but the little animals lived in a box in his apartment and never ever saw the light -- perhaps they and katniss could use each other. ]

Edited 2013-03-12 11:25 (UTC)

[ There are weak moments where Marita thinks that it would be easier for her to forget those two years; where she wonders what sort of person she would be if it had not happened to her, but she knows — despite being a pawn — that it was the only way to help Mulder. It still haunts her at every corner, fueling her with paranoia and skepticism. ]

The grief of loss never entirely leaves a person, but... in my experience, while moving forward may seem impossible at first, it is much better than forgetting it entirely.

I cannot guarantee that either you will return home or they will return here, but experiences are a way of shaping a person. Would you really be willing to sacrifice your own memory to forget?

[Love is somewhere on the list of things that Jade is comfortable with the fact that he'll never quite understand. And he knows for a fact how such desperate decisions can blow up in one's face. So he has no problem or remorse cutting through to a purely logical argument.]

I wonder if you understand how pathetic you sound, and how foolish your planned course of action is. Are you aware of how easily plans based on pure emotion can backfire? Not to mention that you're willingly offering someone to rearrange your mind as they see fit. Even if one complies with your wishes, you are putting your mental facilities at a considerable risk.

[Well...well. Thats just...the most ridiculous nonsense Loki has ever heard.]

You really wish to forget the time you spent with the one you love?

By Odin's blistering sores, woman, I am afraid you misapprehend the phrase 'moving on' completely. Moving on is not forgetting, moving on is er..., moving on.

You move on, you remember them fondly and one good day you will see them again.

[He was dressed and out the window the moment he heard the first sob over the network. It's familiar in a painful way- Katniss' misery. Were there anything that he might offer to rid her of it, he would, and that more than anything cements his decision to allow these connections. Tells him it's right, even if he finds himself helpless. It doesn't take long for him to find his way to her house. It never did. Much like the last time he ran to her he finds her before she's finished with her broadcast- though this time he has the courtesy to wait until she's closed the book to say anything.]

Solano... what. Would you like for breakfast?

[It's something simple, something normal, and not at all addressing what she asked the village. That's a discussion better had when she's better composed and he has a proper argument either for or against. He still hasn't decided.]

[It's easier to stay awake than to go back to sleep. Than to risk that more nightmares might haunt her. Her memories have only begun to survey the dead. There are still so many more faces, so many more scenarios her dreams can haunt her with. And that's without even touching the fictional deaths her subconscious seemed to love.

Teddy's since left but she's stayed rooted to the couch. Still wrapped tightly in the white sheet, still clad in nothing but her nightgown, hair still disarray. Buttercup sits on a chair not too far away as the light begins to filter into the room. But as soon as there's sound at the door, the cat leaps off the seat and pads over to hiss at the arrival.

It's the hiss that catches Katniss' attention.]

Stupid cat. [She mumbles the words as she slowly gets up from the couch, carrying the sheet around her like a cloak. She doesn't know who might be there. Doesn't really care. Katniss kicks at Buttercup when close enough and then slowly opens the door.

To see Zevran and hear his question. She blinks, confused.] What?

[At the knock, Katniss looks up. Not so much startled as momentarily confused. She knew Teddy was on his way over. He knew that she knew. Did he really think that she wouldn't open the door for him? that she'd stay hiding in the bed...

Oh. She realizes it a second later. He's being polite. Because some people around here are polite. People that were obviously not her. A girl who stays seated with the lights off even as a friend wanders about in the dark. One who stays silent and doesn't offer any sort of word of greeting. Even if it is late at night.

Somehow, he makes his way over to the couch and slings his shoulder over the couch. She hesitates for a moment, unsure of herself and the invitation, before accepting it. Pulling the sheet with her, she snuggles up against him and places her head in the crook of his arm.

She hates these nightmares. Despises them so very much.]

[It's cold out and yet Katniss doesn't make any attempt to open the door and let them both inside. She should. It'd be the right thing to do even if she had caught Richard attempting to break into her house. But even as her stomach prowls in protest, she remains standing on the front steps, eyeing his bag.

When he opens it, she immediately peers inside. She lets out the breath that she didn't quite realize she had been holding to see that there was nothing living in there. Buttercup's enough of a pain. Instead, there's... pieces of woods? Shapes. Animals. One or two she even recognizes.

An expression of awe crosses her face as he pulls one out. She thinks once she might have seen an animal like that. In a Hunger Games some years ago. But what Richard holds out is truly beautiful.

Quietly,] These are for me?

[There's no monetary system in place. Enough people here don't even seem to care about any kind of barter system. He has a good point.]

Just my good will? No other favors?

[The initial outburst, pain fueled by the lingering wisps of horrible nightmares, has slowly started to subside. She still sits in the dark, the only light that capable of flitting in through the blinds. Her knees are huddled up against her chest as she stares at the book resting on a nearby pillow. The trauma hasn't left quite yet.

But she has, at least, come to her senses enough to retreat back into her shell. To be reluctant to talk to those she doesn't already know. Even if they remind her of her former psychiatrist.

The words aren't so surprising. They really are a lot like some of the things Dr. Aurelius would tell her whenever he'd try to bring up Prim. If anything, it's a little too much like the words she heard upon losing her sister. And because of that, her stare switches to something of a glare.]

He's not dead. [Not like Prim is, gone from her forever.] Just gone. Not here anymore. Sent home.

[It's still too dark in her room, thankfully, for her to clearly make out the still picture that accompanies the voice. Though she's met the talking ponies before, it's been some time. And after all the nightmares, she would be more than quick to jump to the conclusion of muttation.

She sighs instead, still holding her knees tight to her chest as she rocked back and forth on the bed.]

That's not very helpful right now.

[He's not the first person to ask that of her. She has a sinking feeling he won't be the last. Is she certain? Does she really want her memories gone? How could she so willingly want to forget someone who means that much to her?

Now that the nightmares have started to die away, to say that all these questions haven't gotten her thinking would be a lie. In the dark, in between responses, there's been little to do but think.

Even then, it takes her some time to frame the right kind of response.]

I think it'd be easier.

[He didn't know. It never occurred to him that her friend is still alive. He was given the impression that death is the reasoning behind her wanting to forget. But it isn't. And to him, it's a blessing more than anything else. At least in her case, Katniss has a chance to return to him, if she is willing to wait.]

Then you have something to look forward to. You may not know when, but you will see him again, whether in your world or in Luceti.

[If anything, knowing that should bring her hope and some peace of mind. And if it doesn't, then Oak isn't sure if he could help her at all. But he's not going to throw in the towel just yet. It all depends on what she says or do next.]

Maybe it would be, but what if they come back and remember you? Will that still be easier? To face them and the hurt they might feel at being forgotten? [He's not saying it to be mean, just hoping you've really thought about this.]

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