threadthefire | 1st Design [voice]

[ When she arrives she is not out of breath but the feeling of being breathless has come along for the ride anyway; caused, she has little doubt by Cinna's arrival and the scattered evidence that big things are happening back at home, or that big things will. It's the weight of suspicion that colors everything, the Quell, the dress, the bows. What has happened? And yet even before she sees him, before she can ask anything at all, Katniss has a quiet feeling that her stylist may not tell her.

Stepping through the doors of Cafe Juliet, she peers around, her face that well-learned neutrality from years of not wanting people to be able to read her. ]

[His face is its usual perfect mask, completely belying the inner chaos of his thoughts. How have Snow's Peacekeepers managed this? How does one simply disappear in one location and end up in another? Why don't Katniss and Peeta know about the Quell?

And more importantly, how can he keep them from finding out?

His eyes on the door, he stands when she enters, waving that familiar cascade of beautiful hair and balanced features over to him. It's the only relief he's had since arriving over an hour ago. Well, mostly a relief, because if he's been sent here along with them, it meant his fate was sealed as well.]

[Spotting him as he stands, it takes her a little more effort to keep a regular pace of steps, to not hurry to him, but they don't need more of an audience than any world already is, so best not to draw more attention by making any kind of fuss. With Cinna there is a relief in a familiar face and voice but more than that, those of a man she trusts, one of very few. On the other hand the renowned stylist has brought with him the hard-hitting reality of District Twelve, of Panem on the whole and all it might mean for them when they return to it.

How to explain this is never an easy task, and Katniss most often does not bother, leaving it to those who know better or can at least say it better.

But in this case it is up to her. Her and Peeta maybe.

When she reaches him, she looks up, not sure what she should do or even of what she wants, only that she cannot read Cinna's expression for the life of her, cannot tell all the things he is not saying, or has not said. She remembers her own paranoia about the network well enough however, just another reason she has hastened here. ]

Hi.

[It is the most basic of starts, but she feels tongue-tied for anything else.]

[Always the eloquent one, his girl of fire. It brings a smile to his face, even if it's one tinged with worry. That Peeta is around somewhere gives him some peace, she's not here alone, but there's no one else on the team here, or so he's told and that gives him an odd feeling of... responsibility. Above and beyond anything he ever expected when he was angling for a position in the Games.

Still, the smile remains and he places his hands alongside her face.]

You wretched thing, you've let your eyebrows grow out again. What am I supposed to do with you, Katniss?

[For a moment all her sudden tumult of worry and uncertainty holds its collective breath and she only feels the kind of relief one can only define by experiencing it. When he says that it is all the more reason to be relieved rather than alarmed or aught else, though she wrinkles her nose at him before the slightest shake of her head, cheek pressing to palm one then the other as a result.]

Send me out just as I am?

[It is a joke, and here too is a dividing factor between Cinna and almost anyone else. All that talking on the phone, developing her 'talent' maybe. Something else, a common ground even if she isn't sure of what that common ground is except to be new and a surprising victor, or in Cinna's case, a hit. Only as the words leave her mouth does the brief burst of warmth thin, but it thinks quickly as she realizes the meaning of them; send her out, but to where? Why was he bowing? The photo shoot wasn't meant to be public, not live, not in a way that would call for bows anyway.

What has happened? She doesn't want to know, but ultimately she may need to.]

Except I don't know where you would be sending me out to.

And have that be a reflection on my talents as a stylist? Hardly. Besides my little protege, you know better than that.

[He's not fond of the pretense, knowing how little she cares for the games she's forced to play, but if the Capitol was watching, somewhere, the old facades must stay in place. There's a time to be defiant, an art and a style to it, and now is not that time.

He motions to the seat at the small table he'd been at, they could at least sit and talk as best they could. Disappearing off into... well, somewhere else would look suspicious.]

A girl like you might be sent anywhere, the champion, the pride and joy of the Games, you should always be prepared for anything.

[Words with double meanings, you could be sent into danger, you could be sent to a party and if you're not ready...]

[The first thing that is clear, perhaps twice over to her, is that Cinna yet believes they are still in the sights of the Capitol here. It isn't unreasonable and it took quite some convincing--she remembers, it wasn't all that long ago really--for her and Peeta to believe it themselves.

But after a while of no one at all knowing who they were or what Panem even was, it was difficult to operate on any other system of understanding. She does as directed however, seating herself at the table, the chairs closer to each other rather than directly across. Folding her hands in her lap, all too aware again of how even the smallest of fidgets can show up on a camera, it is telling that the second-nature returns so quickly, that of the public face and what one shows, and what one never will.

For instance, when she is labeled the pride and joy of the Games it takes everything in her not to scowl, not to furrow her brow, not to look away angrily, but she manages. This time for her it isn't because of cameras that aren't even there as far as she knows, however, but because it's habit.]

I tried to---- I try to be.

[It sounds a bit hollow to her, and she glances out the glass window to her left and his right and it is a minute or so before she says anything else, trying to pick her words with as much as care as she knows how, which isn't much but it will have to do.]

What is going on...at home, I mean?

[If anything will drive home the concept of not being anywhere in Panem, maybe it is the utter not-knowing of its goings on.]

[Cinna takes his own seat, watching Katniss' careful movements. He will have to get her somewhere she could relax sooner rather than later, but for now... Now the conversation becomes trickier. The last thing he wants to do is tell Katniss how badly she and Peeta will be punished for their success, but he realizes that he's already mentioned certain things that must be explained. The young woman next to him might not be as good at reading and playing to crowds as her partner in defiance, but she's far from foolish or stupid.]

The Quarter Quell mostly. More of the same only bigger, brighter and with more... interesting designs from some of the teams. You and Peeta are still the talk of the Capitol, though.

[It was only true. They were. Peeta and Katniss, the star-crossed lovers who never had a chance. Would either of them survive the Games again?]

[She listens carefully, for the things they could never say over the phone to the things lately even in person she would have hesitated to address. It is Katniss' worst fear that those she cares for are harmed because President Snow sees her as a threat, or sees what she could stand for as a threat when all she thinks she meant at the end of the Games was to leave with Peeta alive. It wasn't intended as an act of rebellion, though she knows it would be too ignorant to say she couldn't see how it was taken as such.

The Quarter Quell makes her sick to hear about, and this much she has difficulty disguising entirely for a second but just as quickly she masks it again, toying with her napkin instead. Fidgeting, but better to focus on something than to give herself away entirely. Something in her friend and stylist's voice has her look up again though; Peeta and her are still the talk of the Capitol. Not surprising, as much as it frustrates her that even the safety of coming out victors has become more of a life-sentence into the custody of their government. Not that the people know this. To them it is all very, very real. As real as a television show can be, though it may not be fair of her. To be so critical.

They don't know any better, she reminds herself.

And not for the first time she thinks, as she looks at Cinna, trying to guess everything he isn't telling her: but you know. How, she wonders, realizing also not for the first time how little she knows about him. But maybe that is on purpose too.

There are just too many wrong ways to step in Panem and sometimes less knowledge is a gift even where other times--she thinks of District 11--it is a death sentence.]

They haven't picked new favorites yet?

[It is a weak reply for all he has given her to work with, but she is yet sorting through the idea of mentoring anyone, still trying to get over how terrifying it is to think she is sending some girl who could be as young as Prim or Rue, into...

...she can't even finish the thought, choosing to focus entirely on the glass of water she now drinks from.]

[He realized early on how Katniss felt about the Capitol and those that lived there. In many ways, he agreed with her, there was much to despise, the artifice, the slavish devotion to whatever fad. But there was potential there, in only it could be encouraged. And if not encouraged, he was well aware how it could be harnessed. The government had done it for seventy-five years, and with a single act of defiance, the girl, woman next to him had turned it all on its ear.

It was a dangerous Game Haymitch and the others were playing with these kids. He hoped they could handle it if they could survive long enough.

But the fidgeting is a clue that she is anxious about something and he reaches out to place what he hoped was a reassuring hand on her shoulder.]

They'll always find someone pretty and new, but you're their girl on fire. They will always have room for you.

But enough about home, tell me about this place. Or if you're up to a stroll, you can show it to me?

[Playing tour guide would be give her something else to focus on and give him time to sort out his own thoughts.]

[A hand on her shoulder makes her both worried and at ease all at once, a contradiction that she is glad to shake herself free of as she stands, nodding to him at the comment concerning a stroll. What he says of her, about the girl on fire, well that she can only nod to briefly, acknowledgment that she heard but never full acceptance of what that has come to mean to the outer-lying Districts...and maybe the others too.

She makes for the door and holds it open behind her toward him, glancing back as if half afraid he'll disappear. This place is beyond strange, filled with something too beyond her for a word to define. It's a power not of man's make, no President, no government, no Capitol. How to explain it is still elusive to her however, and it is helpful to be able to point and explain a thing rather than the whole idea that worlds meet. Something Katniss can't even quite digest even now. Worlds?

Her world has for so long been District 12, The Seam...Panem.

It's just never occurred to her that there might be more; there has never been time.]

This...I can show you where we've been staying.

[ And other things along the way, but she figures he caught onto that part. As they walk, she glances up and over at him, between him and their surroundings intermittently while trying not to look like her nerves don't know what to do with themselves, even though this is mostly the truth. ]

Who is she?

[ She pauses here, surprising herself by having asked now that they're in fresh air and moving. Maybe it loosened some of the apprehension, and maybe it's the opposite and she just needs to know now rather than later----the opposite of Peeta, but this is not too surprising. ]

The...tribute.

[ In case she needed to clarify, she does, though it probably wasn't necessary considering how she verbally seems to stumble over the word like it's foreign to her when that is the last thing it could be. ]

[He sees her look back and he gives her a smile as reassuring as he can, it's the best he can do in a situation like this. It almost feels like being back under the Arena, waiting for the start of the games, wanting to say things that just won't ease her mind. Granted here, he hopes the stakes aren't quite a dire, but the hopelessness feels the same. He's not an orator, his expression always found another form.]

I think I'd enjoy to see where you're staying, is it comfortable?

[He follows willingly, taking in the sights a bit more now that he wasn't responsible for stopping his own panic attack before it began. The place had its own wonders, but it was a city with people moving about their days. He's sure he'll adjust soon.

But her question gives him pause. How does he possibly answer that question? Does he lie and risk her finding the truth later, or does he admit that she's perhaps stronger than even she thinks and give her the truth.]

She's someone you don't need to worry about right now. Tell me about the people here. Are they like your friends in the District? I've spoken to some of them, they seem friendly enough.

[Perhaps it's the coward's way, but he doesn't feel right lying to her. He never has and this isn't a time to start.]

But---

[ She drops it though, taking to the new direction of conversation but not forgetting where they left off. Someone she doesn't need to worry about? The vagueness itself is worrisome, but Cinna has only just arrived and remembering how she felt when she first came here, she cannot ignore such a simple suggestion as to tell him more. It only feels right to answer. ]

...no. I mean...I don't know. I haven't made friends really. Peeta's more...

[ Here she gives the rare smile, part for Cinna and part for the boy with the bread because she knows she doesn't need to explain how he is always going to be the one making the friends, even if Katniss herself is not so much opposed as she is unfamiliar with pursuing it. She has always had Gale, though she supposes Madge is a friend too.

Rue would have been.

Cinna is.

But is there anyone like them here?

She thinks of Alma. ]

But no. They're not like...anyone else. They're not bad either though. It's...

[ Finding the right words takes a moment, as they pass the fountain and the carousel in the distance. ]

...all of it's so different from life in the Districts. It's hard to explain.

[ In a way it's impossible. Curses? It sounds impossible, but she's seen it. Experienced it. She remembers being cold, remembers not having a pulse, and inevitably trails into silence, trying to lock that away where her nightmares of the Games keep until she has to sleep. It isn't her intention to grow distant with her friend beside her, but for a moment it happens, lapsing into just the two of them walking side by side with the buildings that reach towards the sky lining the streets. ]

Yes, Peeta is. But surely you've talked to some people? There was a young woman named Claire who said she knew you?

[He kept the tone light, seeming unconcerned. Peeta may be making friends, but he knew full well that Katniss would be looking for enemies. And traps and all manner of things that Cinna... well, he wasn't meant for such things. He felt a responsibility to Katniss, but really it was she that would have to lead for a while.]

Perhaps start with this.

[He passed her the small device, showing the guide that Claire had sent him. He'd read it as he waited for Kaatniss, skimming the text with mounting disbelief. It seemed ludicrous. Impossible, and yet it had been sent with what he took for honesty, and so asking seemed best.]

Are the things in here true? Deities, curses...

[In all honestly, it seemed this place was still an arena, just one of a different sort.]

[ Taking the device with some welcome, she eyes it, biting at the inside of her cheek because she knows all too well how ludicrous it all sounds, how absurd, but there is just no getting around it when that is the actual reality of it all. Passing it back to him, she folds her arms across her middle, hands tucked under her elbows. ]

As far as I know.

[ That's as honest as she can be. Nothing is for certain but from all she has observed--and Katniss is a 10 on the observation scales as far as environment and survival as long as one doesn't factor people skills into the math--it is all true. Confounding, but having experienced much of it already, she is hesitant to say it could just be a trick. At first she thought of it like another arena too---every curse a new trick, a new way to spur on the entertainment of a set of Games no one had been warned about...but Games that go on for years?

Even Katniss, most dubious, most distrusting of every scrap of Capitol and connection thereof around her, has to admit the funding for it simply can't exist...right?

It's what she's been trying to tell herself lately, needing to believe it is one thing rather than two at once, two at once being too confusing and too impossible in the midst of all these other impossible things. They are reaching the edges of the City Proper now and the forest lies out ahead, and beyond that the beach and the shack Katniss calls a house and Peeta indulges her by staying. It is, at least, still better than a tree, but it will take a while to reach it, twenty minutes maybe. ]

[He says nothing after the confirmation. What is there to say? While he knew, after what he put Katniss in at the interview, that his freedom and quite possibly his life may be over, but this? He stitched no rebellion for this. It was random. Capricious, cruel...

...and much like being a tribute he imagines.

And just at the tributes before him, he has no way out save survival. The same random fate that tossed him in. So why speak of frustration that Katniss only knows all too well? It would be the height of insult. So instead Cinna walks, watching the buildings thin out and...]

Katniss? We're leaving the city.

Yes, we don't live...where most people live.

[ Even Katniss has the mind to be a little sheepish here though a great deal of that willingness to be temporarily transparent has to do with this being Cinna who she speaks to in the first place. She nods out toward the stretch of field, a span large enough for a tournament which rumor has it has been held here in years past. It may not take twenty minutes really, and in truth it usually doesn't for Katniss alone, but it is different when she has someone with her---Peeta, as of late, or in this case, her stylist. Her friend. She keeps reminding herself that she is fortunate to have one more person here she is all too certain she can trust, but at the same time she feels badly.

No one should wish the Games on another person and she would not wish this place on them either. Before the past month it was difficult to say which was worse, but at home there are certain set and fixed points for people like Cinna---or so she hopes, wants for his sake even if some private and sleeping part of her knows no one is truly safe forever in Panem. Forever doesn't exist, only moments and what a person does or doesn't do with them.

Though small, she does offer him a smile again. ]

Come on. It's on the beach.

[ Whatever awaits them here, it is now the three of them and she more than half suspects Cinna will see where they live and suggest something more standard--even for them, now that they live in the Victor's Village back home--and it is his presence for one reason or another that Katniss knows she may very well agree. If she is to convince anyone the Capitol has no hold here, she must start to act like it herself.

Easier said than done, after an entire life built and bred upon that omnipresent fear, but this is a different kind of arena in a way and they can only win if they change their mindsets and learn the new rules.

It's taken her too long to fully realize this truth, hiding away as much as she could before with Peeta---Peeta who has never said no to her and she knows she is guilty of taking advantage of that. Here. Home. It's too much and she racks up her own points of debt; she knows. Maybe here it can stop.

But first, she has to show Cinna where they have been at all so she quickens her stride just a little, not enough to be irritatingly quick but faster still. They may make it in less time this way. ]

There's a beach? How lovely. I've always wanted to visit a beach.

[The geography of this place won't stay fixed in his mind and despite the urge to seem in control he quickly realizes that the outdoors are not his forte, while Katniss seems more at ease out here than she did in the city. But then that was to be expected, wasn't it? Her skills in the arena obviously showed someone who was at ease in the wilderness, moreso than someone who had picked up skills from the games training. Skills he doesn't possess at all.

If he's to make it back to civilization, Katniss or Peeta will have to lead him. Katniss and Peeta will likely have to give him a great bit of leadership to be honest, at least until he's established. Once he has his footing, one he knows the rules of this society he'll be settled, able to move about. But that will take time and observation he doesn't have at the moment.

The questions he has he holds for the moment, guessing that Katniss will fee like she can speak more freely back in her domain, so they walk in silence. And truth be told, he needs it. There has to be some way to keep her from asking too many question about the Quell.]

1st Design [voice]

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