thecapitol | The Distraction of an Everyday Routine (OPEN)

A. The Gymnasium

Thunk.

The sword slams into the dummy with a weird kind of finesse, driven by determination rather than any sort of skill. Sayaka teeters off-balance for a moment, then rights herself and swings again.

Thunk.

She's been at this pretty much since she woke up and found out what she was here for. Even after her hosts had politely come in at lunchtime and told her that refreshments could be found in her suite and she really ought to take a break, Sayaka had kept swinging away determinedly. They'd told her she had free run of the city, but she couldn't think of anything she'd enjoy doing - not here, in a city she'd never even heard of before, alone. She had to admit that the thought of the music hall had tugged at her heartstrings a little, but there was no point upsetting herself.

Thunk.

A crescendo began to build in her heart. 'This world doesn't need me,' that's what she'd said. Maybe it really didn't. Her grip on the sword tightened. Un-needed in her own world, unwilling to participate in this one. She really was useless.

Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.

This time, when she teetered off-balance, Sayaka doesn't manage to pull herself back up again. The sword clatters to the ground with an embarrassing clatter. She leaves it laying there and just stares at the dummy, her eyes hollow, her chest heaving.

"I'm really no good at this." She mumbles between breaths, and then, a little louder: "What am I even doing here?"

B. Outside the Concert Hall

She really was a fool. Had her feet led her this way all by themselves, or had her foolish head directed them? Either way, here she was, stood seething outside the Capitol Concert Hall.

She should go, Sayaka thinks, looking around for some escape, but then the orchestra starts up, and the music is so beautiful, and so unfamiliar, that she can't help but listen. Even through the walls of the concert hall, she can make out the melody. She sits herself down on a nearby bench, closes her eyes, and listens to the opening notes.

She can't help it - she wonders what Kyousuke would think of all this, and soon her eyes are welling up with tears. She wipes them away on the sleeve of her shirt, and tries her best not to draw the attention of the milling crowds.

She didn't want to cry, but she'd been doing a lot of things she didn't really want to lately.

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A young girl crying on a bench is not in and of itself an unusual sight in the Capitol, particularly not a girl with blue hair. What's unusual is that she's trying to minimize the attention she draws instead of wailing like a wounded beast and demanding the world stop for her, which is what Signless is used to from Capitolites who are in a mood.

That in itself is enough to make him pause. He changes his course to take him toward her bench instead of back toward the tribute center, and sits down a respectful distance from her.

"What's wrong?" he asks, his voice gentle. "If you need to talk, I'll listen."

Gentle as the voice is, it still makes Sayaka jump. From what she's seen of the Capitolites so far, they're not the least bit interested in listening to what she had to say. She really hadn't been expecting someone to approach, let alone start talking to her.

So she just sits in stunned silence for a moment, taking in the situation. She's seen some weird things in the Capitol, and she doesn't want to be rude, but this guy takes the cake.

"Um." She says, eventually. "I-it's nothing."

But she can't hide the tears still leaking from the corner of her eyes, or the blotchiness of her face. Even as denies that anything is wrong, her voice wavers.

He completely incorrectly interprets her stunned silence as a 'I know this guy from TV and now he's asking me if I'm okay' stunned silence. She's not in his district and he hasn't yet seen her around the tower; he's still under the impression that she's a Capitolite.

And anyway, the 'I'm an alien' talk would only distract from the real important thing here.

"It doesn't look as though it's nothing. Here."

He unties the utterly nonfunctional thin scarf he was wearing around his waist like a belt and holds it out to her.

"If you'd like to wipe your face, you can use this."

Sayaka's still in a state of semi-shock as she takes the scarf from the stranger's hands.

"Um. Thank you." She says, but she wipes the tears away with her hand anyway. She stares down at the scarf in her hands for a long while, her thoughts racing - who is this guy? What does he possibly have to gain from listening to her? Can she really sit here and let him carry the burden of her problems? Then she looks back at the stranger, her eyes watering even more than before.

"How can you be so kind to me?" She blurts out. She wants to say 'Don't you know what I am?' but she already knows the stranger has no idea. If he did, he wouldn't be talking to her. He'd probably be running away.

"Why shouldn't I be?" he asks, a little taken aback by the question. "Everyone is worthy of kindness, particularly when they're hurting. You looked as though you might need it more than most."

Much as he knows prying would only make things worse, he's starting to get genuinely curious as to what's making her so upset. The way she's acting and the way she was crying -- not fake attention-seeking tears but real honest ones -- is hinting to him that it's something far more serious than he would have expected.

She can't keep lying to someone so kind. She'd like to agree with him - it's true, most people are worthy of kindness. But Sayaka can't say as much for herself. Especially because -

"Because I'm not human." She mumbles through her tears. Too late, she realises that the stranger doesn't look all that human either.

"I mean -" She stutters, but the thought of having to explain everything - the witches, Kyuubey, her wish - just makes her cry even more. Behind her, the music swells and recedes like a wave.

"I'm just-" She tries again, "I'm such an idiot."

Edited 2015-09-15 18:36 (UTC)

"Neither of those things mean you aren't worthy of comfort. Everyone, of every species, is capable of being an idiot. If that was all it took to damn someone then we all would be."

He pauses a moment, just looking at her and listening to the faint music behind them. Whatever she's dealing with, it's big, or at least it feels incredibly big to her.

"What's your name?" he asks finally.

Normally, that would definitely make Sayaka feel better. Even now, it quiets her sobbing a little and lets her catch her breath while she listens to the music. It would be no good trying to explain just how big of an idiot she'd been anyway.

"It's Sayaka." She sniffles, then wipes the tears from her eyes.

"What's yours?"

She doesn't know? Then she's either a very unobservant Capitolite, or... oh. Oh. Rapidly his assumptions about this girl and the kind of help she might need shift.

"Signless. My name is Signless. Are you a new tribute, Sayaka?"

Sayaka watches the way the stranger's expression changes carefully. Has he changed his mind? Has he realised that she's a monster after all?

"Yes." She nods. She wipes at her eyes again. Signless. It wasn't the strangest name she'd heard here, but it was another reminder that the person she was talking to was just as out of place as she was.

"Are you a tribute too?" She can't imagine someone so kind fighting people to the death, but then if she'd been brought here against her will, it made sense to think that other people might have been, too.

Edited (can't words) 2015-10-05 00:57 (UTC)

"A Mentor," he says. "Someone whose job it is to help tributes cope with the stress of the Games, though I'm sure you know that, if your own Mentor's talked with you at all."

He hopes she's in a district with one of the good teams. Not that the district divisions have ever stopped him offering help, but there's only so much he can do for someone who's not technically under his care. She'll still have to rely on her own team for sponsorship and advertising and image consultation.

Sayaka shakes her head.

"I don't have one." Or at least, not a very good one. Sayaka couldn't even remember their name, let alone anything but the very basics of what they'd told her. As for the stress of the games, she'd been so wrapped up in her own problems that she hadn't really had time to process it yet. Now though, it's beginning to weigh on her.

She doesn't have one? That can't be right. He scrolls in his mind through the list of districts, trying to remember if any of them are completely without a Mentor. One, Three, Five, Nine... that's four out of twelve. His mouth tightens a little.

He had no idea it was that bad.

"Do you have an Escort? A Stylist? They often can fill in when Mentors are absent or not interested in their duties." He thinks of Beck, his own stylist in Twelve, and Cinna before her. Say what you will about Twelve's tributes and their lackluster arena track record, but they have always had a strong team.

Sayaka continues to shake her head. She definitely doesn't have any of those. Is that bad? She can't work out why she'd need a stylist, of all things.

"I-I've being doing okay on my own." She says, despite her tear-stained face giving her lie away.

"You shouldn't have to be on your own," he counters gently. "I'm a Mentor in Twelve, all the way up on the top floor. If you ever need advice or someone to vent to, you'll be able to find me there. No one can force you, but you ought to have the option. I've been doing this for two years from both sides of the Mentor/Tribute divide and I can tell you, sooner or later you won't want to be alone."

The Distraction of an Everyday Routine (OPEN)

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