shenevermisses | 2nd Throw

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[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.]

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[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.

[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.

[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.

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.]

I've been here for two years. [There's no self-pity about it; she's good at keeping those feelings at bay, or at least pretending to. Her tears come when she's alone, when they come.]

So, if there's something you're still not sure of, or if there's something you're looking for... [She gives a glance back to the nearby things Clove had been looking through] I might be able to help.

[Everything of hers that might ever show up here. That's what she's looking for. To have anything she can hold onto to remember what she is and what she stands for.

Or perhaps that's what she wants to avoid...

She doesn't even know right now.]

I'm still just... getting used to everything.

I can understand. I remember when I first arrived, I was very confused, too. I was also angry.

[It might be hard to imagine her angry right now, but back then...

She'd rather not think about back then, when she was just a creature who'd sold herself to a demon for the sake of power, and who nearly destroyed the most important thing in the world to her as a result.]

What the Malnosso do here, they don't have any right to do. Not bringing us, or keeping us, or the drafts or experiments.

They have the power to do it. [It's said simply, as if she doesn't really have any objections to that part.

But, then, the Malnosso seem kinder in her mind than those in the Capitol, than the Gamemakers, who design arena after arena, safe in the knowledge that none of their children-- No. Those are dangerous thoughts. She competed, and that was an honour. She was proud to have been a tribute from District Two.

That was that.] I wonder why they do it. How they pick.

[Why was she here? Why not Cato?]

[It's an echo of that time she's tried to forget; yet even then, a part of her had refused it, had refused to think she belonged to Kunzite, or to the demon from the sun. She was her own.

It makes it worse now that she's repented long ago, because it means those actions were also her own.

Easier to slip into the practical, the tactical.]

There isn't a clear pattern. Probably, we possess a potential they're aware of. It may be the potential for magic; between magic-users here and those who can learn from the spirits.

[Dissent was not tolerated in her Academy, so any thought against order and the powers that be, whatever they might be...

They were slow to come, at least, and difficlt to make stick.]

A potential for magic?

[Skeptic? Just a bit. Or a lot.]

[Used to the reaction, Ami smiles slightly.]

It's hard to believe, isn't it? In my world, it would be said to be impossible. Magic doesn't exist. [She, like Clove, has her secrets, and she doesn't speak about the magic that does exist there.]

Here, however, even I have been able to learn some healing magic, from the spirit called Nala.

I've only heard of magic in stories.

[Still not buying this.]

[She'd be more disappointed if Clove did believe it so easily; she herself only believes it because she's experienced it. She's a rational, scientific sort for the most part.]

I understand not believing it; however, you'll be able to see for yourself that it's true. There are a lot of people here who use it.

[...Uh-huh...]

Well, I'll... see about that.

[The only magic she's familiar with comes from fractured, patched, and rearranged fairy tales and myths. Where she is from, especially, it is not even entertained as a possibility by children.

So to hear someone her age speak so surely of it... she has to wonder if the young woman isn't a little off in the head.]

[Ami feels a bit foolish from the obvious reaction; but on the other hand, she knows she's right, and also that it's likely Clove will see magic eventually. On the other hand, she feels foolish.]

If everything's alright, maybe I should go.

[Sorry, Ami. The lifelong, unexposed skeptic will take experience to convince her of the existence of magic.

It'll happen eventually.

For now, though...]

I'm fine, yeah. Thanks.

[Especially for not acknowledging the crying more than you did.]

But you know... not right now, maybe, when we've only just met. But if you ever need help, I'd be willing to help you if I can.

I'll keep it in mind.

[Asking for help isn't something that comes easily to Clove, and she is inclined to view all offers with some suspicion.

Everything comes with a price. Every "favor" would cost something eventually.

Still, she does her best to sound sweet.]

Thank you.

[It had been the opposite, really. Ami hadn't had a single friend for most of her childhood, until she was fourteen and in junior high and met Usagi. Those girls who buzzed around her before then? Strictly there to either make fun of her, wheedle homework help out of her, or ask to meet her mother, a famous doctor.

It's no small wonder that she keeps herself guarded, though the helpfulness is sincere.]

It's not really much.

It's enough.

[More than she's used to, certainly.

She doesn't trust the offer, but that it was even made says something. Whether it's about the girl's cunning or her genuineness... Clove can't make that call yet. But it's an offer to be remembered.]

If I could find a way home for everyone. That would be enough.

What if they don't want to go home? Or can't?

[It's not an enormous leap, from that comment and Clove's caution.]

Could it be you'd rather stay here yourself?

Nothing to go back to.

[There's no shame in that. In why? A little. But not in the fact that she has no real choice but to want to stay here, now.]

[Politely, she doesn't pry. After this long, she's aware there are people here from very dire circumstances, or who simply found things they don't want to lose in Luceti.]

Anyway, regardless of reasons, it'd be best if people could choose to stay here or return. I wouldn't want to force either.

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