thecapitol | The Distraction of an Everyday Routine (OPEN)

Entry tags:

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Having been there himself not too long ago, Firo knows how rough it is to adjust to having to watch your every word. He nearly smiles when she shows her understanding, though he's wary of letting any viewers in on their secret communication.

"Yeah, I am." All the normal people are, he wants to say, but then that wouldn't be very smart of him. "New York City, 1934, when I left."

"How 'bout you?"

He prefers talking about home to talking about the Capitol. Even other people's homes as least give that sense of escaping the looming, oppressive place.

1934? Sayaka can't keep the shocked expression from her face. To think that these people could reach through time, as well as through worlds... how could she possibly hope to escape?

"I'm from Mitakihara City." She says.

The thought of her own home brought only sadness. The last time she'd been there, she'd argued with her friends. They probably had no idea what had happened to her. She clenched her hand to keep from crying.

"It wasn't very interesting." she says, her voice wavering.

Edited 2015-09-02 20:14 (UTC)

Almost as if it's agreement with her assessment, Firo shrugs at the name. "Never heard of it."

Dense he may be, but that quiver is hard to miss. He rubs the back of his neck and debates trying to change the subject... but that'd kind of be an asshole thing to do to a sad girl, right? "Um. Are you gonna be okay?"

Sayaka only nods. Maybe it's best that he's never heard of her hometown. Talking about it any more would only make things worse.

Quietly, she reaches for her sword and slowly stands up again.

"I'll be fine." She says, her voice entirely lacking in expression. "I should get back to training, anyway."

Firo can respect the desire to pretend all is well, especially when this place is crawling with enemies. But she doesn't look fine in the least, he thinks, and he supposes he should try to do something about it. Only a jerk wouldn't.

"Want a partner? Éowyn taught me a bit about how to use swords..." Before he stops talking, he's already turned to look over the remaining practice swords.

Sayaka was planning to resolutely ignore him, but then the stranger is looking at the practice swords and offering to help, and she can't just ignore him to his face like that. Then again, she can't just fight a human, even if it's just for practice.

"It's okay." She says again, and shakes her head. She hesitates before explaining herself. "You might get hurt."

Edited 2015-09-07 14:41 (UTC)

He blinks, too surprised to be offended. She doesn't look like much, but Firo knows not to go by appearances--most people think he doesn't look like much either.

Taking a sword off the wall and giving it a practicing swing, he says lightly, "I'd like to think I don't look pathetic enough to get myself beat up in practice."

Is it a threat? Maybe she didn't get the memo that killing waits for the Arena and thinks that she'll take out some competition now. He wonders if he should point that out before things get rough. ...At the same time, though, she sounds more sad than murderous.

There isn't really any backing out now that the stranger has grabbed a sword of his own. As he takes the practice swing, Sayaka reflexively falls into a defensive stance. One foot in front of the other, blade outstretched.

"R-right." She says, but she can't quite manage a smile. She shouldn't underestimate the people here. Too late, she realises that this stranger has probably fought people before - maybe even killed them. And if Sayaka got hurt here, there was no guarantee that she'd recover.

Maybe her reluctance to fight shows, because she's certainly not going to strike first. Instead her eyes flicker to the sword in the stranger's hand, waiting for him to make the first move.

He sinks into his stance as well, doing his best to recall what he learned from his friend and to reconcile it with his knife training. He offers a lopsided smile. "Don't get too annoyed if I mess up--I'm still new with these things. My Family uses knives, mostly."

Waiting for the other to attack is usually his preferred way to start, but he decides to go for it this time. He shuffles forward, not slow but not too fast, and goes for an overhead swing.

"I won't." She says, although she can't help but wonder what sort of family gets into knife fights with one another.

Again, she seems to move without really registering what she's doing. With a metallic clang, the two swords connect as Sayaka blocks. After a moment, she jumps back and to the side. She's reluctant to follow up, but she matches her partner's swing with one of her own anyway.

Her instincts with this seem better than his, Firo notes; does she do this a lot back home? As much as he hates to see any women or kids here--and she seems looks like both to him--he supposes that it's a small mercy that the Capitol grabbed one who's prepared.

His block isn't quite as natural; he moves in closer than he probably needed to. To follow up, he tries to snake a strike under her guard.

"What's your name?" Politeness dictates that he should give his own before asking, but Firo rarely listens to such things.

Maybe not a lot, but enough for the basic moves to have stuck in Sayaka's memory. She's not used to having to defend herself against human opponents, though, and Firo's strike almost catches her leg before she darts back, just in time.

"Sayaka." She says. "What's yours?"

Edited 2015-09-15 17:29 (UTC)

"Firo Prochainezo." He grins, though it's slightly rueful. "I'd say 'nice to meet you,' but..."

Well, the circumstances could be better, couldn't they?

He hops forward with another strike, this one overhead.

Sayaka's thrown off guard by Firo's words, and sort of stands there processing them. When she does block, it's very late, and she ends up struggling to hold her sword comfortably.

"R-right." For a second there, she'd forgotten all about the circumstances. She lowers her sword and steps back. What on earth is she doing, enjoying a fight, even a practice one? In the arena, her new friend might well turn out to be her enemy. So, she goes quiet again, and after a moment, asks:

"Have you ever fought someone for real?" Not that Sayaka can judge - she's fought, and killed things before. Not human beings though.

That was a bit of a cheap strike, wasn't it? He shrugs as he draws back. "Sorry."

If there's a 'right' answer to her question, he isn't sure what it would be. Probably not the honest answer, but the truth is what he decides to go with. "All the time, back home. Part a' my job."

And just a fact of life, living in the kind of environment he did. ...And having the kind of nosy, abrasive personality he does.

"You?"

"It's fine," she quickly says.

There really wasn't any right answer to that question - but Sayaka appreciates that Firo is honest enough not to cover up the truth.

She hesitates before answering. Now that she thinks about it, she's not so innocent herself.

"Only once." She says, a little quietly. "It was part of my job too."

It's true, but Sayaka can't help but feel like she's lying. Did she fight because she had to, or because she wanted to?

He circles, waiting to see if she'll go for a hit or continue to guard.

"Really? What do you do?"

All of the jobs he can think of would require it more than once, unless she was just starting out. But even then, he can't think of any that are too common among women, at least in his time. Then there's her age, though that's a little less weird to him considering how young he got involved with his job.

Sayaka knew, as soon as she brought it up, that the subject of her 'job' should have stayed buried. Now, with the effort of thinking up a plausible explanation, she's letting her guard drop entirely.

"I hunt monsters." That's the short way of putting it, but it doesn't entirely answer Firo's question. "The person I was fighting... got in my way."

There's no other way to put it, really.

Firo knows that his teachers would've seen that opportunity of a lowered guard and used it to teach a lesson. He wonders if he should do the same, if he's being a bad person by not offering that teaching moment.

But, well, he just can't hit someone who looks so sad. He doesn't lower his sword, but he stays in place for now.

"Monsters?" They're not real where he's from and he's inclined to believe the same of all places. "This person their friend or somethin'?"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The Distraction of an Everyday Routine (OPEN)

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject