Katniss Everdeen (
stillplaying) wrote2013-03-11 10:14 am
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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.]
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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but in those wee hours of the morn -- as he listens to her questions while he's cleaning out his rifle -- richard sharpe makes a decision. it's the sort of decision he should ask katniss about before making, but he's not sure the girl would accept help that was merely offered instead of insisted.
and so -- by the time katniss returns to her house -- she may find sharpe kneeling awkwardly at her front door, prodding at it with a lockpick he so very rarely gets to use. ]
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[Because it is always, always useful to have someone deeply in one's debt. And now that he's worked Saori's ritual on himself and gotten the shape of it, he thinks he can probably modify it here and there to be used on someone else, with their willing participation.]
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The one thing you don't want to do is forget. [He says this in a calm and gentle voice] I know it's painful right now, but what will you gain forgetting the memories you've shared with him?
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That's when he hears Katniss' desperate pleas and requests, and that's when he feels his heart constrict in his chest. He wants to fight against it and say that time heals all memories, that they can be turned into strength. But with the way she is right now... Teddy's sure that that wouldn't help. And really, he wonders what it'd be like, if Billy went home, leaving him without someone to love or love him in return, with everything already piled against him...
He doesn't think he'd ask someone to remove his memories of him, but who knows, if it happened to him? So instead of going to Billy's room, he goes to his closet instead, hunting for his coat.]
Katniss, where are you right now? [His voice is hushed, as Billy is asleep and happens to be a pretty light sleeper on top of that.]
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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.
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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.
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[Kohaku would feel so bad if she couldn't be able to help a person with this kind of problem. She knows that feeling.]
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It made it hard for Suki to speak, but she had to.]
You really don't want that. Trust me.
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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?
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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.
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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.
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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.]
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For a moment Sabriel considers the young woman's request, her eyes heavy on her bells hung beside her bed. It wouldn't require much, a toll of Belgaer could gather the memories then Saraneth to bind them away and...no, she couldn't. Shaking her head with a shudder she turns away from the bells and back to the journal. It was too much Necromancy, too dark, too risky...and no matter how much she understood Katniss' pain she couldn't use Free magic for this.
Sometimes a good intentioned act was all it took to set off powers beyond control. Maybe that's all it took for a true Necromancer to be born.]
In my world, the magic to do what you're asking for is used to hurt others, to change them into something they're not. Even if I were to try and do it for you, it would change who you are and I don't know if I'd be able to undo it without permanent damage.
I'm sorry.
I don't know what you've been through, but I know what it's like to miss someone so much it makes your heart ache. You are not alone, Katniss.
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Are you sure you really want to forget? I know it probably feels like it now, but... once they're gone, if there is such a thing, don't know if you can get them back again.
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He turns a distant look to the screen, irises as pale as the whites of his eyes.]
There is a way. [Thin lips pull into the faintest of smiles.] An escape from this... torment. 'tis merely a matter of how very desperate you are, my dear girl.
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[He'd seen it happen before with Shu. Shu had subconsciously sealed off all of his memories of Lost Christmas and everything before that day, and what had that gotten him? In the end, he'd still had to confront the truth and all of the pain that came with it.]
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