thecapitol | Little girl, little girl [open]

Who| Clementine and OTA
What| Clem wakes up from her first ever death in the arena, then goes up to the roof with her thoughts
Where| District 6, then the roof
When| End of week 5 of the arena
Warnings/Notes| Inevitable angst

Prompt A: District 6 Suite

Clementine wakes up, that's the nightmare. Not the six weeks proceeding it.

She never thought she'd be so unhappy to discover herself alive. It's not just the shock of it or the horrible memory of dying, it's the fear of what she did in the space between dying and waking up. Clementine remembers a girl who tried to save her and then she remembers trying to warn her but she's can't recall clearly if she actually got the words out before she died.

The fear of it overtakes her as she sits up on the bed, pulling up her knees to bury her face in them, arms wrapped tight around her legs to muffle the sound of the first sob. She should be stronger than this, better than this. Instead she'd been stupid and possibly gotten other people killed. Nevermind what the Capitol did to the food, she's still going to blame herself now for her actions.

Prompt B: The rooftop garden

Hours after waking up Clementine has calmed down but in desperate need of fresh air, a space to clear her head away from the view of any screens. She's started to get a picture of what's happened since she died; what happened after, who else she knows who's died and who is still left alive in the arena.

Joel, Sabriel... they took care of what she'd become. She'll have to thank and apologise to them when they come out but all of that seems very far away as she looks out at the gleaming city from the balcony, her chin pillowed on folded arms over the railing.

It's so wrong, those people out there enjoying the spectacle of the games, not understanding the real horror of what the tributes go through. Clementine doesn't understand how they can be so removed from the suffering happening under their very noses.

[[ooc: Prompts are in prose but reply in any format you wish!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Clementine's glad he hasn't taken it away.

"Aren't you angry too?" she asks him, she doesn't know how he couldn't be when they're made to suffer for what is essentially nothing. "I don't know what to do with it."

"I-" He thinks on it, but only briefly. Then he looks up from the view below, shrugs at her, and goes on. "I guess I must be. But in my world we were taught to use it. Control it, until the time came to let it out." Which is a concept that can't really be understood without having it taught, without teaching it as he'd taught Eddie and Susannah. As he one day might have taught Jake. But he's not teaching now. Only passing the words along, and leaving it up to her what to do with them. "The trick of it is to know when that is, and control yourself until you need it."

Clementine nods.

Her anger at the Capitol won't do her any good right now when she's not in a position to do anything about it, it'll only serve to get her in trouble. These are people who have no problem hurting those who speak against them. "I think I understand. I just don't think I've ever been so mad about anything before."

Roland's hand leaves her back and he slides down to sit on the ground, knees upraised and his back to the sky. "Next time you go to the training rooms, use that. Take your weapon and imagine on your target the faces of-" He shrugs a shoulder, setting one hand atop his knee and waving it vaguely. "Whoever's wronged you." Or, more specifically, the gamemakers. They both know, he's sure, that that's what he meant. "Anger itself's not enough, but if it goes deep enough, if it's done the right way, it can take you to a place where you focus. Give you at least some sort of an edge."

For now Clementine stays standing, with how tall Roland is it's not so much for her to look down at him where he sits. "Okay. I'll try it." anything that will help and especially anything that could help her become stronger for the next arena she will pursue. "I want to get better at this."

Roland feels a dim, muted sadness at her words, but it's a senseless thing to feel. With what little she's told him about her own world, Clementine likely would have discovered that particular state of mind anyway, given a little more time there. And just because he'd finally saved all the worlds just before being 'chosen' as a tribute in this one doesn't mean he'd erased all the evil from them. All the pain. Had he really been arrogant enough to expect that?

He's not sure. He is sure that it isn't a problem he'd expected to be in any position to face. Yet here they both are.

"That particular state of mind can be tricky to get to, at least while you're still trying to find it. But even that won't solve everything. You might have to speak about what happened in there, eventually." He folds his other arm over the first and watches her, expression patient. Merely informing her, and deciding nothing one way or the other.

"For the cameras?" she asked, uncertainly. Clementine knew they were expected to do interviews and things, on television or in papers. That their unwanted obligation to the people here went further than simply dying in the arena.

She's focused though, if she can use her anger positively in some way then she will. Maybe one day she can use it against the Capitol too.

He raises his eyebrows. Hadn't thought of that. "Oh, probably. But that won't be real. The sheep of this world will hear whatever it is they want to hear, and there's no point in saying anything else. No, I meant to a friend. Or at least someone you trust. There are certain things..."

Roland takes a breath, gives a quick shrug. "Things I went quite a while before talking about. And I did alright. But it's probably better to speak of it, once the time is right. Especially if you'll have to lie about it during their interviews." A hand waves toward her, acknowledging that he wouldn't have thought of that last if she hadn't pointed it out. "Best to have it straight in your own mind before that."

"Oh..." Roland's meaning maybe should have occurred to her before her own. She didn't know why it didn't, maybe that she's not much used to talking to people about her problems like that. Clementine had lost most people she would have talked to before coming here, and things had never been so easy between her and Christa after losing Omid and the... best not to think about that, she's feeling low enough already.

"I'll... I'll think about it. You're probably right, just..." she can't right now she thinks. "it's hard now."

He nods. He's said his piece, she heard it, and that is that. Turning a little, he looks over his shoulder and studies the sky. "I can leave now, if you'd rather. I know what it is to need to be alone."

"Thanks, Roland. I'm really glad you came up here." Clementine nods a little, then she follows on impulse and hugs him about the neck where he sits on the floor, briefly but meant. "We can see each other soon, right?"

Roland tenses, but only in surprise. He watches what he can see of her head from this angle - the contact makes him see more clearly, somehow. Makes him feel more awake. Then she's done and he sits there a moment more, looking at her. "I hope so. Any time you like." He snorts, quietly. "I certainly won't be busy."

Clementine smiles at him, it's watery but definitely there. "Okay." That reply though makes her determined to think of something for them to do together when it does happen. Something fun, it should be. This city does have some things to do that aren't all terrible. "Soon then. We'll do, um, something."

"Something it is, then." He stands, brushing a hand over her head in passing as he walks by her, as he'd used to do with Jake. Roland shakes his head, shakes it off. Enough of that. Too much of it, in this place. He may be tired, but he's not tired enough to start picking up the pieces of his old grief like breadcrumbs snatched up by a starving man.

So he moves past her, moves along to the door, already trying to think of something that'll pose some distraction. More knitting, maybe. "Call me if there's anything you need," he says, raising his hand and then slipping through the door.

Little girl, little girl [open]

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