2nd Throw - [ action ]

[shenevermisses]

[A party on Friday constituted a shopping trip on Wednesday. Normally, Clove was not keen on social functions. She avoided the main core during things like that at the Academy. Here, though, she took it to be part of the show. As a "New Feather," she had to try and forge alliances. She had a few prospects, she felt.

The Roman-- Roan, but that was close enough for Clove-- theme called for an effort to find her Tribute Parade costume.

For three hours that morning, Clove browsed the clothing store. When she found something she liked and that looked like it would fit, she put it in the canvas bag she carried. She needed a bit more of a wardrobe, after all. It was sort of fun, looking through everything.

Finally, she found it. The black pants and the layered gold shirt. Sleeveless and close-fitted, tailored to show her off, accent the delicate feminine frame next to the tall and broad figure Cato presented.

Clove took it quietly. Unlike everything else, this outfit did not go into her bag. She carried it to a changing stall and shut herself in. She stripped, put on the pants, shirt, and her boots. She even tied her hair up in a poor imitation of her parade style and stepped out to inspect herself in the mirror, smiling faintly with anticipation.

Her smile faded almost instantly. There was a small gap between her waistband and her skin, and the pants were almost too long. Her shirt hung loose, rather than hugging her chest. She reached up, under the shirt, and felt her side. They weren't horribly prominent, but she could feel her ribs. Not surprising-- she'd had little to eat that last run in the Arena. Of course she'd lost weight.

Clove looked at her reflection. She was a shadow of the girl who had ridden in a chariot with Cato. She felt near her temple, trying to find the dent in her skull. It wasn't there. Maybe she'd feel better if it was. Maybe a physical reminder of that injury would make her feel like everything was real again.

She touched the loose ends of the shirt, felt the layers of fabric. Her eyes stung. Something wet fell down her cheeks. ...She was crying. For the first time in a long, long time, she was crying. Clove drew herself up, willing the tears to stop. Then she bent over... sank down into a crouch as her chest shuddered with a painful sob.]

Comments

[action]

[want_take_have]

[grabbing a change of clothes with Amelia, last night, was one thing...but she couldn't spend all week in the same outfit. Or, she could, but she didn't really feel married to the idea. She'd mostly been ignoring everyone else, picking out anything that looked like it might appeal. She could try it on later, at "home," and ditch any that didn't fit afterwards.

She didn't really look over when she heard the sniffle. True, it wasn't unfamiliar. Plenty of chicks cried their first night or two in the joint. But most toughened up real quick. Still, you got to know the sound.

But it's harder to ignore the more solid sob, and when she looks over in time to see Clove curling in on herself, her stomach does an awkward flop when she realizes it's just a kid.

For a minute she just stands where she's at, arms full of clothes, and watches her. Meltdowns were iffy things, and they'd probably both feel more comfortable if she just backed off and pretended she hadn't noticed.

But something about this whole thing made her think of Angel. It was enough to get a silent, internal curse, and to push her to take a few tentative steps forward]

Hey...Kid...

You okay?

[action]

[shenevermisses]

[The sound of a voice is the most terrifying thing right then.

Rule one: You are always being watched. Don't forget it. Weakness will only piss off your sponsors. Pissed off sponsors means dead tributes.

But it was too late. She can't see straight, and she definitely can't stand up right now. Maybe if she's just quiet, the woman will leave her alone.

...No. That won't work. Her luck, it's the maternal type. And silently sitting there will only make her mother hen all the more. Then there might be touching... and she's not sure she wouldn't break a wrist to make someone just leave her alone right now.]

It--

[She laughs as she says the word. A choked sound, the kind of laughter that only comes from having to hold back sobs. The kind of laughter that may as well be screaming.]

It doesn't fit right.

[...Because that's clearly what she's upset about. That her outfit doesn't look exactly right.]

[action]

[want_take_have]

[.......]

[Who knows. Maybe the kid really was that spoiled. But considering how freaked out she'd been last night (how freaked out she still was, this morning) she's not buying it. Except maternal is about the furthest word from how anyone would describe Faith.

One eyebrow goes up as she gives a small snort.] Bullshit.

[action]

[shenevermisses]

[Why?

Because it was easier to talk about this stupid outfit. This one. stupid. insignificant. detail. than it was to go into everything else spinning in her mind. She couldn't even discern those thoughts.

...thoughts of Cato and Thresh and hunger and cold and fire and stings and blood...

No. What she could think about was this costume.]

It was made for me. [A sob after she speaks, and her head shakes a couple times, sharply trying to get rid of all the images she keeps conjuring.] Perfect fit. Designed to make me look my very best. Like a goddess, he told me. [More tears, a duck of her head to hide them. God, this is so stupid.] And it doesn't fit right.

[She laughs again, the sound shaking her shoulders. She coughs against the tears.]

S-sorry. This is... so stupid. I'm fine.

[action]

[want_take_have]

Yeah, well...men are liars. [it's an automatic response, not knowing who this "he" was]

[she should probably say more. She was trying to run through the scenario in her mind, a regular "What would Angel do?" playing in her brain. But all she could really think to do was stand there dumbly with that bundle of clothes in her arms. She wasn't really one for Brady Bunch moments]

[action]

[shenevermisses]

[It's closer to a real laugh, but in the way that anything would have been funny right then.

It's funny because it's not pity. And she can either start screaming because she's pitied or laugh because she's not. So she laughs, leaning over more as it turns into sobbing again then back to laughter.

Men are liars.

Fathers, teachers, peers, presidents, tributes.

Maybe she's right.

It sounds good right now.

She takes a few deep breaths, trying to steady herself. Trying to master herself again. She's done so well these last few days. She needs to just get a grip.]

I-- This is so stupid. I look like an idiot. I-- Yeah. Sorry.

[Still shaky with tears, but she's trying to convince herself. Trying to calm herself down. Trying to regain control.]

[action]

[want_take_have]

[Faith gave an uncomfortable shrug...not moving to approach, but not backing away, either]

It's no skin off my back.

[which is why she should walk away now. Except...she didn't]

[cop_an_attitude]

[On her usual bored browsing of the clothing shop (god, it was taking awhile for her things to show up) Sally had noticed Clove's intent shopping and even given her a little wave across the store, though she was pretty sure the girl hadn't noticed, obviously busy in her task.

Upon taking her new find to a changing stall, to determine whether it was, in fact, the top she had purchased not too long before her arrival at Luceti or someone else's, Sally hears a wretched sob from the stall next to hers. At first, she has no idea how to react, but when she thinks: wasn't that the stall Clove took not long before?

Sally has never been a particularly maternal woman, but she does have something of a soft spot for kids, and now there's one crying in a changing stall right beside her. She can't do nothing.

So she exits her own stall and knocks softly on the neighboring door.]

Clove? Is that you in there? It's me, Sally.

[They only really met once, but she hopes Clove remembers her well enough to trust that she wants to help if something's wrong.]

[shenevermisses]

[Deep breath. Deep breath.

But they're more gasps than comforts, and each one is released in a series of choked, strangled sobs.

Get up. Stop crying.

She manages the first and tries to manage the second. She makes it to the door of the changing stall before she's gripping the handle tight to keep herself standing. She can hardly see, the tears clouding her vision, and she sinks away from the door, back against the opposite wall, against the mirror... and she slides down into a sitting position.

She did get the door unlocked, at least, even if she didn't manage to open it.

She wants to be left alone. To suffer this humiliation by herself. And yet she's made it easy (and the click of the lock being taken off was audible, even to her) to be joined.

Because she doesn't want to be alone. She's too alone in this place and afraid.

But she's not afraid of anything.

But she's alone and scared.]

[cop_an_attitude]

[Sally hears the door unlock, and that's good enough for her. She understands unspoken requests for companionship, even if, sometimes, against one's better judgment.

So she opens the door and peeks around the frame.]

Hey. What's going on? Are you all right? What's happened?

[Without waiting for a response - because Clove is young and Sally remembers being young - she steps into the room and closes the door behind herself and...waits. She doesn't approach, but by her posture, it's clear she'd like to, if invited.]

[shenevermisses]

[Clove sits with her knees tucked to her chest and her head bowed against them. Thin shoulders shake with a few sobs.

She wants to be alone. She wants company. She wants to keep crying for the rest of her life. She never wants to cry again. She wants to scream. She wants to be silent.

She doesn't know what she wants.

But she manages to speak, words choking in her throat.]

It-- It's stupid. It's really stupid.

[cop_an_attitude]

[None of that was a "no". So...

Slowly, because she's had a taste of what this girl's life has been like, what she's been exposed to - slowly, Sally approaches, backs against the wall next to Clove, and slides down to sit beside her.]

What's stupid?

[shenevermisses]

[She laughs, a strange, choked sound. Because it's either laugh or scream.

Clove lifts her head, turning it slightly to look at Sally before she has to look away. This isn't how a Career acts. This isn't how a District Two tribute behaves. She's as much an embarrassment to her district here as in the arena, screaming for help.

Her voice is soft, betraying her age. She's only a sixteen-year-old girl, whatever else she's been through.]

It doesn't fit right.

[...But surely a sixteen-year-old girl who can talk about being in a fight to the death without flinching wouldn't be a wreck over an outfit, right?]

[lunas]

[ Usagi doesn't come to the clothing store that much - and when she does it's mostly to browse for overly cutesy clothes with weird Engrish phrases on them or cute patterns or even pictures of cute animals or something of the sort.

Still, the crying sounds were audible even outside the changing stall. And Usagi just happens to be outside it, waiting until she gets a turn, but.. even without knowing it's someone she knows, she can't stop herself from wanting to help when she hears the sound. She has little sense of privacy or when to back off and leave people alone, so she knocks a little on the side of the stall. ]

... Um.. Is everything okay inside there?

[shenevermisses]

[Clove doesn't recognize the voice. All she knows is that it's someone young, someone her age, and years at the Academy have conditioned her to expect ridicule for displays such as this. even she would have offered no comfort, only the silent promise to walk away and pretend she saw nothing.

Clove digs the heel of her hand across her closed eyes, trying to destroy all evidence of tears... but her eyes are still bloodshot and more water is welling even as she forces herself to her feet. She almost sinks right back down.

For all her inner coaching about strength and pride, she's on uneasy footing when she opens the stall door. Her voice quivers badly. The girl looks familiar, but Clove is too wrapped in the past to recognize the face and voice she's only familiar with from one conversation over the journals.]

Yeah. I'm fine.

[One look at her is enough grounds to call that a lie.]

[lunas]

[ Usagi is normally pretty oblivious - even to other people's feelings, unfortunately, no matter how hard she tries. But in this case it's actually easier to notice it and so even Usagi doesn't miss the little hints - bloodshot eyes, shaking voice, you could go on like that. It's why she frowns in concern despite the girl saying the opposite of what she looks like, but not after a look of surprise. She recognizes the voice, the girl-- that one time over the journal, right? ]

Clove-chan..! [ and because Usagi is not exactly subtle, she immediately moves on to-- ] .. Did something happen?

[shenevermisses]

["Clove-chan." Only one person that could be.]

Usagi.

[Such a dignified first face-to-face meeting. She feels even more idiotic now.]

I-- was shopping. For the party.

[So stupid. Explaining this is just humiliating.]

An outfit of mine came from home... It doesn't fit right.

[Better-- easier-- than trying to explain anything else.]

[lunas]

Oh, you're going to the party? [ It causes a moment of a happy grin to flash across her face, but then she recalls the situation before going back to a more thoughtful expression. ]

... Huh.. Is that such a bad thing? It happens to me all the time, you know, since I.. [ okay, even in Usagi terms this is sort of awkward to admit, so she laughs sheepishly. ] .. well, since I eat a lot of sweets, I guess.

[shenevermisses]

[Clove manages a small smile at Usagi's confession.]

I know it's stupid.

[The words catch in her throat still. Too many thoughts about the Arena and parade and Cato...

But she won't let herself start crying again. Not until she's alone.]

I... It was made for me. [She motions to the loose outfit she has on.] So it not fitting...

I know, it's really stupid.

[Action]

[geniustheveil]

Are you alright?

[The voice is quiet, belonging to a girl just a bit older than clove herself; perhaps barely twenty, dressed as professionally as possible in Luceti - which is admittedly not too difficult to do, with the resources such as this very shop.]

I'm sorry; I didn't mean to intrude, it's just... [It's just she knows how difficult Luceti can be; and she's never been good at ignoring someone alone.]

[Action]

[shenevermisses]

[The young voice startles Clove more than anything, and she's half turned, three fingers inside her boot before she really remembers where she is.

Safe. She's safe.

This isn't the Arena. This isn't another tribute. This girl isn't going to kill her. The worst she'll do is laugh.]

Fine. I-- I'm fine.

[...Yes, because it's totally a sign of being fine to be knelt on the floor of a shop crying.]

[Action]

[geniustheveil]

[For her, too, Luceti is much safer than the threats of home, although for very different reasons. Ami isn't good at confronting this sort of situation, at knowing what to say and do that will be the right thing and not make the other person offended, embarrassed, or worst: angry.

So instead of saying anything immediately, she holds out a handkerchief, a peace offering and a practical need at the moment wrapped into one gesture of kindness she hopes will be understood.]

Go ahead.

[Action]

[shenevermisses]

[Clove half stumbles to her feet, ignoring the offered cloth to wipe under her eyes with her thumb.

She swallows hard and shakes her head.]

I'm fine.

Just... lost my balance, that's all. I'm fine.

[Action]

[geniustheveil]

[Crying alone in a store isn't fine; but Ami, who's answered the same back in her own world, lacks the ability to press the issue. She hesitates a moment, and puts the handkerchief back.

It doesn't mean she's given up. She recognizes the similarity and... she'd like to be there for this person. So maybe they can start as if this really is a normal meeting, for now.]

I'm Ami Mizuno. Even though the circumstances are here in Luceti, I'm pleased to meet you.

[Action]

[shenevermisses]

Clove.

I've... only been here a little over a week.

[She's looking at the girl closely now.

Kinder than she is, but of a similar strategy. If she'd seen someone at the Academy curled up and crying, she'd have walked by without a word. Because that was compassionate where she was from.

Usual would be to mock the weakness.

So for this girl to ignore what she'd seen... or at least pretend to... It was appreciated.]