I know there’s nothing left worth staying for

[actually112]

Who| Aang and Open
What| Aang is putting origami things fucking everywhere. This is the best way to handle feelings.
Where| All the Districts except D4.
When| Post interviews
Warnings/Notes| Self-prescribed art therapy.

Origami everywhere.

On the counters, the tables, on the backs of chairs, everywhere. Cranes, flowers, owls, dragons, swans, weird six-legged bison things, bow ties, all kinds of origami. They're placed around quickly and quietly and all at once, so a person can go into their room for five minutes just to come out and see their District covered.

If they're really quick on the draw, they may see a little boy with arrow tattoos placing the last of them. They're more likely to see the boy before he puts the origami everywhere, when he's hidden on top of the fridge and working on folding all his origami. He's just out of sight enough to be hard to spot if one isn't looking, but occasionally a little pale foot with an arrow tattoo dangling over the edge, either while he's working on folding or when he's taking a fitful nap.

Comments

[ka_sera_sera]

Roland recognizes the little foot immediately. He'd expect to see it in their own shared floor, though, rather than the twelfth one, and though he'd been on his way out this is just odd enough that he can spend a moment on it.

"Aang," Roland calls, making his way through the kitchen and closer to him. "Run out of places to sleep in four?"

[actually112]

Aang stirs, one hand on a half-finished paper turtle, before peeking over the edge of the fridge at Roland. He pulls his knees up to his chin and braces himself on his elbows.

"I don't think they really want me there."

Kurloz tried to attack him. Derek looked pretty close to attacking him too.

[ka_sera_sera]

"Oh?" Roland leans on a nearby counter, looking up at Aang and noting the solemn look of him. "'They'? Did they tell you why?"

He has his suspicions, of course, but it'll be best to hear Aang out before making any assumptions.

[actually112]

"Uh, not really, but I'm pretty sure that it has something to do with me getting a member of Kurloz's family in the Reaping pool."

At least that's Aang's assumption, considering the fact that Kurloz would have probably tried to kill him if Derek hadn't grabbed him at the last minute.

"I didn't really ask too many questions before I left." Because really, it looked like they were fit to kill him.

[ka_sera_sera]

"Surely no one believes that was truly your idea?" Roland notes, briefly, that for all the talk the stylist gave him of the fine long tradition of these arenas, the honor in them, he doesn't seem to feel that way now. Then he shakes his head. "Or maybe that doesn't matter to them. Is there anything you'd like me to get you from your rooms? If you're going to hide out from him you may have to keep doing it a while."

[actually112]

"I just wanted to honor Panem's history like they keep telling us to." The lie is easy. It's rehearsed, he knows it backward and forward. He can repeat it for however long he needs to, as convincingly as he must, even if the guilt eats his gut. "But all I did was make them mad."

He slides onto his stomach so his face can be closer to Roland's. "I only had time to get Toro and Hariti. Do you think you'd be able to get a few changes of clothes for me some time?"

He can borrow Clint's clothes, but at his size, he's basically swimming in the fabric.

[ka_sera_sera]

For all his time living near the boy Roland's got no idea what Toro and Hariti might be, but that's not what Aang is asking after now so Roland doesn't ask, only nods. "Where should I bring them? Here? At the least the floor of Signless' room is available for you to stay, maybe his bed if we don't use it. Better than sleeping up there." He gestures toward the top of the refrigerator, and the gesture brings his eyes toward whatever it is Aang's been working on. "What's that up there with you? Been doing a little more than hiding?"

[actually112]

"I'm staying with Clint Barton. He's in District 8."

It's been a blessing, really. Aang needs someone around to support him, and Clint's been doing a good job of that. Even so, Aang tends to take naps on top of fridges because it feels less intrusive that way.

Aang scoots forward, showing a little origami wolfbat to Roland. "I've been making origami." It calms him down to have something to do with his hands.

[ka_sera_sera]

Roland nods, noting the name and the district number as he leans forward to inspect whatever Aang's holding. "Folded paper," he notes, not sounding entirely pleased - some deep part of him still sees paper as rare, and the reaction to seeing it needlessly folded is instinctive - but mostly what he sounds and looks is fascinated. "I don't know that word, but I assume it means there's some sort of tradition here, rather than something you made up. From your world?"

[actually112]

"Yeah. It's the art of paper folding."

Aang reaches down and delicately places the wolfbat on Roland's shoulder. "They have it here, too, but I don't think there are artists who spend all their time doing it in the Capitol like there are in my world."

[ka_sera_sera]

Roland takes the creation just as carefully as it was placed, puts it on one outstretched palm and holds it in front of his eyes, studying all the folds. "Are you settled up there? I'd know more about those paper artists of your world, but that might be best explained somewhere a little less cramped." Seriously, Aang, he knows you're the most flexible child he's ever met but huddling up there can't possibly be sustainable.

[actually112]

He can stay curled up forever! You don't know the depths of his flexibility!

But no, really, Roland is inviting him down to the ground and that sounds very nice right now. "Okay. I'll come down." He shimmies forward before grasping the edge of the fridge and flips, his feet grazing the ceiling, and lands gracefully on the ground. "I don't know much about the artists. They do really big fancy things, but I don't know any of them. I just know how to do little stuff."

[ka_sera_sera]

"I'd think the more little your creation, the greater your talent." Now that Aang's standing Roland holds the little creation out toward him, offering it back. "This is some kind of ritual in your universe? It means something?"

The answer must be yes. Why would anyone ruin paper, especially when it's made this fine, for any reason else?

[actually112]

"For some people. It's an art form. The Earth Kingdom might use it for rituals, but it's a really big place and I haven't been everywhere on it."

Aang takes his creation back, cradling it gently in his palm. "It was one of those things that I was taught in the Temple when I was too active."

[ka_sera_sera]

Roland really needs to let go of the idea that paper is some rare and precious thing. It's obvious his world was the exception there, not the rule, and you can't understand another culture if you're too busy wondering at the strangeness of it. He can't let go of the idea completely, but he does try.

"Too active?" He looks at Aang a second, expression dry and warm because really, Aang being too active, say it isn't so, before turning to look through the cupboards with the familiarity of one who spends just as much time here as the floor on which he is technically supposed to be sleeping. "Were many spirited children in your temple taught the same? Oh and, with all the hiding you've been doing, have you eaten?"

[actually112]

Aang can't help a sheepish smile. Yes, too active. It's so hard to believe about him, isn't it?

"Different monks dealt with the kids differently. Monk Gyatso was good with kids like me, but I was always the one he paid attention to most." Maybe it was because they got along well. Maybe it was because he was the Avatar. Maybe it was because Gyatso was close to his past self. Who knows?

Aang goes to sit down, placing his creation on the table. "No, I haven't really been eating much." Except that isn't entirely because he is hiding. It is partially because he just isn't sure how well he can hold things down when he thinks about what will happen to that District kid.

[ka_sera_sera]

Roland nods, immediately beginning to search through the cupboards and refrigerator. It isn't his food, since he can't afford much of that anymore, but whoever it belongs to won't mind. Especially since the person who paid most of it happens to be the same man whose bed Roland slept in last night.

"That's a shame, especially for a growing boy like you. Ought to keep up your strength." Here, Aang, have a sandwich. One with a little meat and quite a few vegetables in it. Vegetables are important. "You can come up here to eat, if you need to. Signless buys most of this for his own tributes, but I know he'd welcome you too, if you needed it."