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

Do they not throw fits over such things where you're from?

[ not that they threw many in his neck of the woods -- but it depended an awful lot on who you hit. ]

I was trained to fight. Throwing punches was an everyday thing. Encouraged.

So was I, lass. But it don't mean I could hit anyone I wanted to.

[ ... ] Fight the French all you want, but in Wellington's army? Duels are forbidden.

The Academy just wanted us able to fight and kill anyone who came at us. Because that's all that mattered if you went to the Games. You just had to survive.

But did you ever dare to hit your superiors?

Hit a few upperclassmen and got the ganging up that came with it. But not instructors.

And -- why didn't you? Were there rules?

Punishments?

[ what stoppd you? ]

Mostly because they'd demonstrate fighting, and you knew they could take you down if you even thought about trying. No mercy shown.

We would be flogged. [ each letter is a chore. ] For hitting a superior officer. For some, a swifter death would be preferable.

[Clove, sadly, isn't inclined to picking up on how difficult writing it out is for him.]

Flogged?

Whipped. Given the lash.

[ the answer is simply written. unornamented in its content. honest. ]

[Clove can understand the word "whipped." It doesn't happen in her part of Two, but she's heard about the punishment for smugglers, thieves, or poachers.]

That's what happens in Panem if you break certain laws and get caught.

Aye -- the 'getting caught' part is the hitch.

The Academy -- where I was trained -- had different rules from the rest of District Two. I was pretty good at following them.

Following them is what keeps you safe. Secure. The thing about rules is you need to be careful when you break them. Know when it's worth it.

There were a couple I broke.

[A pause, and then she writes again.]

I think it was worth it.

...Which ones?

[ he'd ask more kindly but -- alas -- the dreaded fact of writing slows him down enough. ]

We're not supposed to date. Girls aren't, especially.

No fraternization. [ he laughed, for all the good it did him. ]

A bloke stepped into your sights, did he?

Edited 2013-01-07 02:32 (UTC)

[She can't help but smile herself, even if he can't see it.]

Yeah. Only guy I've ever liked, so we took the chance. Didn't get caught, at least. I would've been expelled if we had been.

Such things are always worth the chance. Is he a good lad, your sweetheart?

[Sweetheart. It's such a strange word for their relationship. Especially right now. And so is "good." But.]

Yeah. He's strong enough to protect me. Smart enough to know when I don't need him to. Knows when to listen to me.

Good on him. A decent woman once told me a good man has two ears but only one mouth, so he might listen twice as much as he shouts. If you've found one who already knows about the listening part? Good on you, too.

She sounds pretty smart. Me and Cato work well together. We get each other, you know?

...Yes. I recognize the feeling.

[ written ]

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