Come and keep your comrade warm

[molotov]

Who| Molotov Cocktease and open! Plus a closed prompt for D6 suite
What| Um... "adjusting" to being in the Capitol
Where| D6 suite, training room, then the Central Commons bar
When| Early morning through pretty much the whole day
Warnings/Notes| Endless smoking, senseless violence to training dummies, irritable Russian woman

i. District 6 suite, sunrise
Unlike some of the other tributes, Molotov stayed in her room for the entirety of her first night, the door locked tight. Some might have thought she was sleeping or crying or whatever else it was people did when they were brought here, but instead, she was listening.

Listening at the door. At the walls. Any passing sound from her... suitemates was noted, analyzed, stored away and categorized in the way only a spy really knows how to do.

It isn't until light breaks that Molotov cracks open her door and steps out -- hearing that there was a training room was too much for her to resist. Her footsteps are soft, and she's hoping there's no one in the common area, no one to talk to or deal with or see her.

ii. Training room, early morning
Having made it all the way down to the right sublevel, Molotov finally breathes out a sigh of relief at seeing all the weapons. She knows she shouldn't feel that way, should be maintaining her indignation, but really, this is the only normal part of this whole experience so far.

She practices at home. She can practice here, even if there don't seem to be any guns to play with.

Molotov wastes some time trying to blockade the door out of sheer pettiness, only to have an Avox continually and respectfully remove everything that she places in front of the door.

She gives up on that fairly quickly.

Nearly every weapon she can get her hands on seems to be something she's delighted to use, demolishing dummy after dummy. She runs across the room, turning handsprings and flips as if she really has to chase down an inanimate object.

Eventually, Molotov starts feeling her fury again, and that why you might (if you get there late enough in the morning) find a sweaty redhead clinging to a training dummy, legs wrapped around it, stabbing it over and over and over in the head as she grunts with anger.

Oh, and one more thing. Molotov's taste in clothing is, well, unconventional, and she's managed to modify her workout clothing to reflect it. Basically you're seeing a lot of... well.

iii. Central Commons bar
One thing Molotov has never really cared about is proper drinking etiquette. She doesn't think much of starting her day with a healthy glass of vodka and an orange. That's just a deconstructed screwdriver, right?

So it's a bit surprising to her that she's made it to nearly noon without the help of a little liquid stabilizer. After all, she's pretty sure that the situation warrants it. Who stays sober after being kidnapped to be a human sacrifice?

Even though Molotov did have the courtesy to make a trip upstairs and change, it's still not the kind of thing most people consider to be normal clothing. It probably was before Molotov got her hands on a needle and thread.

She's going to have to talk to the stylist or whatever about all these funeral shrouds in her closet, what with their sleeves and pants legs and cloth over the torso and back.

Comments

[revvinguptheharley]

Harley blinked confused right back then planted a palm on her own forehead.

"Right right, new girl. Sorry I forget you don't even know the basics. President Snow is the big cheese around here. The King Quesadilla! The Big enchilada. The grand poohbah." She snickered "I love that word. Poobah. It's just a funny sound really."

[molotov]

"Oh, so the president," Molotov says, ignoring the rest of the little... speech over there. She doesn't elaborate, although she's obviously still thinking. Maybe a plant? A double agent? Doesn't seem entirely implausible, given what little she already knows about this place.

[revvinguptheharley]

"He's just the man on top though. You'll hardly ever see him in person. It's all televised appearances and speeches for him." She added "He probably doesn't wanna risk hanging out with the less friendly tributes."

Which was about as close as Harley could get to saying that people wanted to kill him without implicating herself on camera.

[molotov]

She shrugs, because it's really just a matter of fact for major politicians, isn't it?

"People that high up always have enemies somewhere, at least they do at home," she says, adding the last part hastily, to ensure that those watching know she's speaking about experience, not intent. "It will be interesting when I do finally get to see him."

[revvinguptheharley]

"Oh absolutely. I hear he has a thing for red heads~" She winked playfully. This was a lie as she had never heard anything of the sort. But maybe this would be a fun way to start a rumor.

"Fun is fun but I'm feeling sweaty and hungry. Wanna grab a bite?" She offered jerking a thumb towards the door. She hadn't worked out that much but she'd gotten used to eating whenever the need struck her. After all the arena was a test of starvation and she saw no need to put herself through that again.

[molotov]

Molotov shakes her head, then inclines it toward the uneven bars. "I am going to work out a little more stress," she says, then extends her hand, "but I don't think we were ever properly introduced. Molotov Cocktease. Maybe we can grab a drink some time."

[revvinguptheharley]

Harley's smile is beaming like a spotlight as she accepts the hand shaking it with a decidedly firm grip.

"Harley Quinn, I LOVE that name!" She gushed delighted. "Really captures you perfectly. I mean the whole package the accent, the eye patch, the so deadly I could die just from this handshake if you really wanted thing. And now the name? Perfection!" She declared.

[molotov]

Her eye widens a bit, like maybe the whole gushing thing is a little weird to her. Give her a few more days, Harley, she's new to this "good" fame thing.

"Well, I suppose I should thank my father then," she manages with a little laugh. "You have some name yourself. Mine is just a translation thing, but yours is a legitimate pun."

[revvinguptheharley]

"I know right? It's like my Ma was predicting something." She giggled and pulled her hair back fishing a pair of glasses out of one of her pockets and planting them on the tip of her nose. Even her voice changed from her high pitched heavily accented regular sounds to a low and professional sounding rumble.

"I'm also known as Dr. Harleen Quinzel. Professional Psychologist dealing in extreme cases." A delicate little laugh in sharp contrast to the grating one from before "My mother prefers that name but where's the fun in that?"

[molotov]

Molotov's eyebrow nearly raises right off her head, because come on, no way.

"You... are a psychologist?"

[revvinguptheharley]

"Yeah I know right?" She chuckled but it was much more refined and polite then her cackle.

"This is who I was before love changed me. Trust me I wouldn't sit through all those dull lectures without retaining something useful. I'd show you my documentation but that got left in the other world."

[molotov]

There is so much here that Molotov just doesn't get. Of course she's been in love, of course that's shaped her life, but to turn into an entirely different person? That different? It's crazy.

"And your love... was it meth, by any chance, and not a man? Because if so, disregard my previous speech," Molotov advises, her tone joking, but with a twinkle of genuine confusion in her eye.

[revvinguptheharley]

"Oh gosh no!" Harley chuckled again that polite chuckle "I wouldn't touch the stuff it'll kill you! No I was in love with a homicidal clown."

Because that was so much safer.

"He just opened my eyes to who I could be if I just had some confidence. And well...now we're wanted felons! It's really your classic romance."

[molotov]

"I think the last homicidal clown that I know of died recently," Molotov answers, because the only thing she can really think to do is relate in at least a small way. Which is that she knows of a homicidal clown herself, because he was an old and famous villain.

There's a brief pause, filled with the fact that this was perhaps not the twist she had expected the story to take. The clown twist. "Of course it is, exactly like a movie."

[revvinguptheharley]

"Boy that would be swell. A movie all about me!" She sighed dreamily.

"I shouldn't complain though. Apparently in another universe they read comic books about me! Now that I'd like to see! Big beautiful full color illustrations of my best moments! When I'm at my most sultry! When I'm hillarious!"

Because Harley Quinn had discovered she was fictional in another universe and thought it was a hoot.

[molotov]

"Are you famous?" Molotov asks politely, simply because she can't really fathom the idea of being fictional, even in another universe. So obviously Harley must just be terribly popular and famous -- after all, they make special edition comics about famous people all the time, so why not a regular series about an obviously insane girl? Sure, that makes sense.

[revvinguptheharley]

"More like infamous." Harley snickered. "I wouldn't say my name is a household name. I'm no Batman after all, but being sidekick to the biggest psycho in the world comes with a bit of notoriety." She winked.

"It's a multiverse thing, did they teach you that in sexy Russian death dealer school?"

[molotov]

There's some blinking, and Molotov shakes her head, face twisted in confusion again. Everything about Harley is so foreign and crazy, it's hard to deal with!

"Can't say that they did."

[revvinguptheharley]

Her plan to get a drink seemingly forgotten Harley skipped closer to Molotov again.

"Oh it's great! Real nerdy stuff but not that hard to understand really. So let's take your world kay? Picture it clearly in your head. Now imagine a moment in your life where you made a choice. Could be a big choice could be a small choice. Just a choice. Got it in your head?"

She paused for a moment and then pressed forward, eyes alight with pleasure at sharing her vast knowledge of useless things.

"So in your world you already know what happened when you made that choice. But somewhere out there is another world where you made the other choice and things may have turned out differently! And that's basically the idea. A billion worlds out there like ours where something different happened that changed things in either big or small ways. Billions of worlds where there may or may not be a Molly like you depending on how things progressed. Heck there could be someone like you in my world and I just never met em! And vice versa!"

[molotov]

"Molotov," is the first thing she thinks to say, because her name isn't Molly and she actually really hates that. It's almost an afterthought, though, because she doesn't even really want to try and keep comprehending this. It's too much, too overwhelming for this day.

Isn't it enough that she's been sucked into one of these worlds, apparently?

"Well, I hope I never meet them."

[revvinguptheharley]

"I dunno I think it might be fun." She sighed wistfully tucking her hands behind her head and rocking on the balls of her feet "Then again I like myself most of the time. I imagine it's easier to get along with multiple versions of yourself that way." She idly mused.

"Still that's not here nor there...or maybe it is? Either way we're here and this is what's going on now."

[molotov]

A snort, and Molotov shakes her head. "I think more than one of me around might be dangerous. For many people, including the mes."

She leans back against the balance beam and shrugs. "Aren't we so lucky for it, too."

[revvinguptheharley]

"Very likely." Harley agreed with a giggle "Or it might be so powerfully sexy the entire capitol falls in love." There was a exaggerated wiggle of her eyebrows for comedic effect.

[molotov]

She can't help rolling her eye. Molotov might have been quick to agree to all the PR for her own good, but she's not really all that interested in being a celebrity. It's really more like she wants to be her own manager and creative team -- it would be great if she could substitute someone else in for all the actual fame.

"The only thing I need less is a hole in my head."

[revvinguptheharley]

"Yeah, you've already got the one, no need to get greedy." Harley teased with a grin.

"You get used to it, I just hope you're as good holding your temper as you look because I'm almost shameless and even I get embarrassed and frustrated with it sometimes."