thecapitol | (no subject)

WHO| Tony Stark, Momoko Ryugasaki
WHAT| A chance meeting that cannot possibly go well...
WHEN| Just a few days before the next Games start.
WHERE| Outside the training center.
WARNING/NOTES| None at the moment.

Logically Momoko knew this was stupid of her, that skipping out on training more and more as the Games drew closer wasn't a smart strategy. On the other hand, even more logically, Momoko couldn't help but realize that cramming in hours of combat and survival training wasn't going to really help at all, in the end. Not when there were hardened military men and the like entering that same Arena. Not to mention whatever else waited for the tributes in there.

She still shuddered to think of the terrifying mess that was the Victor Crowning party. No amount of training in the little time she had left could prepare her for an entire arena of that. So why should she waste her last few days of relative freedom and luxury in pain and sweating in the gym?

She shouldn't, Momoko had decided, and promptly slipped out when her mentors were looking the other way, secure in the depressing knowledge that they wouldn't bother looking for her. She left the building through a back exit, more to avoid being bothered by Citizens she was in no mood to deal with than anything, already planning what lacey Lolita fare she would replace her gym outfit with upon reaching her rooms.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Momoko smiles and preens, just the slightest bit. "I'm used to it," she says simply. "A true Lolita has at least three outfit changes each day." They're still inside but she flicks her parasol open anyway, enjoying the feeling of security it gives her. "What's a martini?" she asks absently, moving towards the door and assuming he'll follow. She doesn't really know much about alcohol and has never really cared to look into it before. She only knows that martinis are alcoholic thanks to movies.

Lolita. Right. He knew there had to be a term for... that. "Well that seems... fluffy."

He steps out of harms way of her parasol, blinking up at it for a moment and, deciding it's probably best not to spew out whatever superstitious mumbo-jumbo that pops into his head about bad luck and opening umbrellas indoors and that it probably isn't good to push her luck, but he isn't really superstitions and he'd rather talk about martinis anyway.

"And they're delicious," Tony answers. "But maybe we'll start you out with something a bit sweeter. Chocolate or strawberry something or other."

Momoko frowns slightly but decides against commenting on 'fluffy'. She's beginning to wonder if he even pays attention to what comes out of his mouth. What exactly is fluffy about her clothes?

"Sweet is good," she says instead, flicking her hair over her shoulder. Apparently they were forgoing Arena strategy discussions for the moment to talk about Momoko's alcohol education. Considering how she preferred to spend her time pretending her time in the Arena wasn't rapidly coming up, she was rather okay with this. "I like sweet." She glances down the street when they exit the building and frowns again.

"I don't know any place to eat," she confesses. "I eat in my rooms. Or at," she wrinkles her nose. "--the 'parties'."

(no subject)

ha oh its fine we can be slow together

awww yeah \o/

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