shenevermisses | 13th Throw - [ action / written ]

Written:

I want a specific scenario in the Battle Dome. Can someone help me program it? I'll repay you. Terms can be discussed before the programming.

Action:

[Clove will be waiting outside a room in the Battle Dome. She hasn't been sleeping, and it shows. She's also been skipping meals.

She has her Journal with her, and she's dressed for a fight. Tribute from head to toe, knives in her vest.]

Written:

[The next short message appears a few hours later.]

It gets so quiet here. Between missions and drafts, there's just nothing. That's the one thing I hate about this place. It gets too quiet.

Action:

[For most of the evening, Clove will be at her camp. She's turned up a little game to cook, and she's ignoring the cold as best she can. She considers, as she starts to really feel the nipping of winter, knocking on Katniss's door. She could probably sleep there to escape the cold and not go back to the apartment.

She's not sure she's ready to go back and face Cato yet.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

You hoping for a romantic sunset and some flowers afterward?

What?

[It's probably a good thing she can't be heard, just the look she gives to the Journal visible.]

That ain't much of a battle simulation.

I don't really care what you think about it. If you're not up for helping me, I'll work it out on my own or get someone else to help.

Relax, kid. I'll do it. No need to get defensive.

Funny how people get that way when they're insulted, huh?

That's sarcasm. That's one of those things you have to learn to deal with growing up.

Dealing with it doesn't mean having to like it.

[... fair enough.]

Right. So when do you want to throw this party, anyway?

Soon as I can.

The Dome. Fifteen minutes.

I'll be there.

[And then he was there, perched on a bench, smoking a cigar with a tall bottle of water beside him.]

[And Clove arrived, a little run-down by her lack of proper eating and sleep habits as of late, but there was a fire enough in those eyes. She looked at him, checking it against her memory.

Then:]

So. How do I start? I want to learn to actually use this thing, too. Not just tell people what I want.

[But she'll settle for that right now, mostly.]

[He gave the kid a cursory look. Well, she certainly had an intense look about her. Also probably harmless, but he knew that appearances were misleading. So after silently staring for a second or two, he stood up and pulled the cigar out of his mouth.

He hadn't expected this to be a lesson.]

It ain't hard. But I'll try and go slow so you can keep up, got it? Now first thing is picking a world.

[So Logan gets started. For simplicity, he picks good old Canada. There's lots of wilderness to choose from there.]

[She watches him, considering. Then, the question:]

Is every world people here are from on there?

Like mine?

Couldn't tell you. I ain't ever picked any except mine and the one we're standing on right now.

[Clearly he hasn't had any reason to go anywhere else.]

[Not helpful. And her look says as much. But she doesn't press the issue yet.]

Okay. So you pick a world.

[He gestures at the screen that shows the selected area.]

This is Alberta, Canada. For your sake, I'll make sure it's summer there.

[Which is among the many controls now available to him. After running his finger along a touchscreen map of the country, he is able to zoom in on the area of choice. More options open up and now he can pick a time period for it, the season, the weather, and even time of day.]

Never heard of it.

[But she's watching closely, trying to take in the details, but what'll stick mostly (for now) are the broad strokes.]

You and most of America, kid.

[At this point he's able to populate the world. At this point, it just has him type in a description of an opponent for her. So he enters some simple commands: Male. Big. Strong. Armed. He sets the difficulty level at 6.]

Eighteen. [She's looking at the controls.] Dark skin. Very dark.

[He misunderstands the number to mean something else.] The difficulty don't go that high. Trust me, I've tried.

[Though he does add the dark skin. He's not sure why the girl is keen on fighting a black guy, though.]

[She looks at him, confused for a moment. Then, it clicks.]

No. His age.

[This is personal.]

Can you program a fighting style?

[Huh. Now this is starting to get pretty specific. He glances back at her.]

Sure. What kind?

(no subject)

shenevermisses - 2013-01-09 05:30 (UTC) - Expand

snikting - 2013-01-11 04:03 (UTC) - Expand

shenevermisses - 2013-01-11 04:06 (UTC) - Expand

snikting - 2013-01-11 04:19 (UTC) - Expand

shenevermisses - 2013-01-11 04:21 (UTC) - Expand

snikting - 2013-01-11 04:22 (UTC) - Expand

shenevermisses - 2013-01-11 04:27 (UTC) - Expand

snikting - 2013-01-11 04:31 (UTC) - Expand

shenevermisses - 2013-01-11 04:35 (UTC) - Expand

snikting - 2013-01-11 04:37 (UTC) - Expand