[open]

[stillplaying]

It's been six months and five days. One hundred and eighty-six days since she had watched her sister burn like a pyre. One hundred and forty-five days since she sought out her revenge. Since she executed Coin and secured her freedom, her only chance to be free of anyone's strings and no longer be a pawn in their games. Less days than that since she returned to District 12. Only sixty-seven there. Fifty-three since Peeta's return and her first attempt to leave the house. She had made it as far as the fence and had to get a ride home in Thom's cart, sitting where all the dead had earlier that day.

The numbers roll through her head as she makes her way through the familiar forests. Reminders of how far she's come. Of life and living and that need to keep moving forward. It plays through her mind along with other words. Her name: Katniss Everdeen. Her age: eighteen. She lives in District 12 again. Commander Paylor is now President Paylor. There are no more Hunger Games. No more war. And somehow, she survived. She survived and others didn't and no matter how hard she tries, she still doesn't understand.

So it's easier to leave every morning right at sunrise. Before Dr. Aurelius can call her or Peeta can stop by. Before Haymitch might be out of his drunken stupor and before Greasy Sae or anyone else might stop by to check on her. Even in the May sun, she wears her leather jacket. Because it's easier to cover up, to hide the scars that might attract attention. Quiver and bow are slung across her back and her bag bounces against her thigh as she walks slowly along the edge of the meadow, carrying her supplies. She takes another step forward and...

...and she stops.

Gone is the fresh air. Gone is the slight breeze and the sickly sweet smell of corpses yet to be fully buried. Mockingjays no longer make noise in the distance. There's a different sort of chatter now. A different smell in the air.

Her heart skips a beat in her chest. There are people here. People in a place that looks like a bar but... but can't be a bar. Because there's no bar that looks like this in District 12. There's no time for the people of 12 to just sit around, doing absolutely nothing. Not with all the cleanup and the rebuilding and this can't be possible.

She takes a breath and forces herself to move. Her eyes dart around, aware and alert, already assessing the people in the room and the room itself. Looking for weaknesses, for entrances and exits, for anything she can use for defense in addition to her bow. She doesn't understand it. She doesn't know how she got here, why she's here, or even where here is. But she refuses to be caught off guard. She refuses to have survived this long only to die in... in some new game?

Did they change their mind? Decide that she was too dangerous to be kept in District 12 after all? Bring her back... someplace, alongside all the other unwanted and dangers from the old Capitol? She looks around and tries to spot someone familiar. When that fails, she forces herself to speak loudly, in as firm and threatening a tone as possible.

"I want to talk to President Paylor. Now."




It's only later, after matters are explained, that she's found herself sitting at one of the tables in the corner nursing a cup of tea, that she might be a little more approachable. But there's still a suspicious and angry look on her face and a steel glint in her eye. Her bow and quiver and bag are on the floor next to her but she keeps the skinning knife beside her hand.

Just in case.

The odds have never been in her favor.

Comments

[miniclaws]

Laura watches the new arrivals enter the bar, she dismisses many of those who are confused, there are enough people to deal with those. Old habits die hard, and she is looking for the predators and the fighters, so she can get idea of their skills before she has to fight them.

She watches the girl from a distance, for a couple of minutes, she looks like a wounded, feral animal, ready to spring at the slightest provocation. It intrigues her and she isn't afraid of being attacked. She walks slowly towards the girl, giving her time to process that there was someone approaching her.

"President Paylor is not here. They are not responsible for kidnapping you."

[stillplaying]

By now, she's already talked to the redheaded woman. Natasha Romanoff. Her bow is no longer on her back but gripped tightly in her left hand. All arrows remain in the quiver, though, and she doesn't look quite as ready to attack. Quite as ready. She's still tense, ready to pull an arrow from her quiver at the slightest wrong move. She doesn't trust anyone here. Or anything. She's still on guard.

It's a guard that doesn't let up when the girl approaches. She doesn't necessarily look much older than Katniss, maybe even about the same age. But she knows better, knows how lethal children can be when put in the right circumstances. Knows how lethal she herself can be. To see someone close in age is far from reassuring.

The look she gives the girl isn't just wary but cold as well. "Someone already told me that."

[miniclaws]

"There are always unanswered questions, what didn't they tell you?" Laura is very literal and to the point. She quietly approves of the other girl's vigilant state, too many people on board relax and trust people when they are told by one person that they are safe.

"Did they tell you to put your bow away?"

[stillplaying]

The hint of amusement that crosses her face at the last question is barely noticeable, not so much of a grin as a flicker of light in her eyes. Did they tell her to put her bow away? Not so much in those words but she was aware of the implication. Threats were not welcome here. Her bow, alongside her quiver full of arrows, were a threat.

Katniss shrugs in response, her body language answering the question instead of words. She's not going to put it away. She's not going anywhere without her bow. There's no one she trusts here. She's not dumb enough to give up her only chance of survival.

[miniclaws]

Laura's weapons are always on her, hidden in her hands, ready at a moments notice so she does not scoff the girl for wanting to keep the bow close by. "Many people are not fighters, they are weak and will not seek out a fight with you." She does not sugarcoat and pretend the ship is entirely safe.

"Do you own a knife? Some of the corridors are narrow for shooting a bow."

[stillplaying]

She has a knife in her bag, a knife meant for skinning and gutting and not at all meant for any sort of fighting. But she remembers the sting of a cold blade against her skin. Clove's blade, firm and steady against her throat. If it hadn't been for Thresh, she would have died there. She never would have gotten the medicine that Peeta needed, they never would have lived through the 74th Hunger Games.

Her hand goes to her throat for a second as she remembers. There's no blood there now, only scars and still healing patches of skin.

"Can you get one here?"

Does she need to be prepared for someone as skilled as Clove?

[miniclaws]

"There are steak knives." Laura has not found much in the way of weapons lying around. She notices the gesture of the hand to the throat. This girl knows what it is like to face an opponent.

"There have been a handful of fights. None of them have been serious. I suggest a knife if it will make you feel safe."

[stillplaying]

Steak knives. It's still far from her weapon of choice, but it's something to consider. She wonders where she'd find one and is almost tempted to ask. But she doesn't want to seem dependent. Not on this girl. Not on anyone. Until then, she has her skinning knife. It'd be worth ruining the blade to protect herself. She also has her arrows, still sharp and pointy even if not used as a projectile.

She considers all of this for a second. Then, she shakes her head.

"I like my bow."

[miniclaws]

"I understand, you have a preferred weapon." From the girl's questions and alert posture, Laura knows the girl can adapt to a knife if she needs to. She could be a threat. Once upon a time, the knowledge would make Laura attack her. Now, she understands that people are not always killers by nature.

"We have reached the point that I feel comfortable to give my name. I am Laura."

[stillplaying]

Eyes narrow and she looks Laura over carefully. The girl understands. She even suggested a knife to begin with. That means that she's dangerous. Someone to keep a wary eye on, just in case the rules of this game change to one much more familiar. She hasn't survived this much, made it this far, to die in any circumstance aside from one of her own choosing.

The thought keeps her from feeling anywhere near comfortable enough to give her name. She does so anyway because, once in a long while, she can be polite.

"Katniss."

[miniclaws]

She nods and files the name away, she never forgets a face or a name. Someone else would ask why Katniss feels the need to keep a weapon handy but Laura won't, people's reasons are private.

"You will see people around with a yellow top as part of their uniform. They are the security here. They will step in and break up fights if they see them."

[stillplaying]

She looks away from the girl, searching out one of those people with yellow tops. One of the Peacekeepers within this new arena. Her attention finally falls on one of the men standing near a door. A man with a yellow shirt. She'll remember to be wary of them. Not that all the Peacekeepers were horrible. Some, like Darius, had even been friends.

But she remembers Cray and his Peacekeepers, the ones that came in when District 12 fell back into the Capitol's eye. Because of her.

She'll have to be careful regardless. There are some chances she just doesn't want to take.

"Will they do anything else?"

[miniclaws]

"There is a brig onboard this ship, a lock up," she clarifies. "Two people have been placed in there when they refused to stop fighting. They were not detained for more than three days." She tilts her head thoughtfully.

"They do not use violence, they wish for people to comply willingly with the rules."

[stillplaying]

The Peacekeepers under Cray hadn't been entirely violent. Usually, they tried to placate problems with a few choice words. Some, like Darius, had even been friends. District 12 had been so far from the attention of the Capitol then that rules and laws were lax. She knows it hadn't always been like that, that when her parents were young, they had been much more strict. Like it had been under Thread's control.

Under Thread, things had been different. Whippings and beatings and lockup. And it's that sort of atmosphere she expects here. Because this is a game. She won't let herself forget that.

"And when people don't comply?"

[miniclaws]

"I do not have enough data to answer that," Laura says. She does not to spin a false tale.

"I only have one incident to base it on. They manhandled the two fighters away and put them in the brig. When we saw them again, they did not have any additional bruising or marks."

[stillplaying]

That doesn't necessary mean much. She knows how good they are in the Capitol. They had repaired the hearing in her damaged ear. The body polish erased scars and other marks on the body, leaving a person the ideal image of Capitol perfection. It's entirely possible that this place has a medical staff just as good.

"That doesn't mean they weren't beaten."

[miniclaws]

"No it does not," Laura agrees. She has a healing factor, and any beatings, or injuries she sustains vanish within minutes. "They do not exhibit fear around the guards, and their heart rate does not increase when they see them, which is typical after a beating." Her eyes narrow. "I will not get complacent. I will keep watching and inform you of any new information, if you wish."

[stillplaying]

She hadn't considered seeking out allies in this place. Katniss prefers acting alone, not relying on others even when it's a more logical step than being by herself. But she's gotten so many people injured and tortured and killed because of her actions. More than that, debts can cost a lot to pay back.

Still, maybe this isn't such a bad idea. So Katniss nods. "What do you want in return?"

[miniclaws]

Laura understands why Katniss would expect to give something in exchange for information, she knows nothing is for free. "Information. You will see notice different things than I do. I do not need anything else on board."

[stillplaying]

It's a fair deal, one that she thinks Haymitch would be proud of her for making. Even if Katniss is reluctant to have allies as any sort, it might not hurt to have at least one. Even if she hates it, hates playing any sort of game these days, she knows the necessity. And she knows how to play by her own rules.

"Okay."

[miniclaws]

Laura nods and takes a step backwards. "I will find you when I have information." She will not actively seek Katniss out before that, but she will not ignore her if she sees her around.

"Goodbye."