thecapitol | it's never ever too late [open]

Entry tags:

it's never ever too late [open]

WHO| Ariadne and whomever wants to visit her
WHAT| Ariadne is musing to herself on the various occurrences of the Arenas.
WHEN| the night of the closing ceremonies.
WHERE| the training centre rooftop.
WARNINGS/NOTES| none right now.

Ariadne still wasn't entirely sure about all of this. All of this...killing, and maiming, and the fact that they were all brought back. What was she supposed to think of that? About the fact that somewhere out there in the world, someone was more than likely concerned with where she had disappeared off to; about the fact that she had curb-stomped a man to death on the opening day of the second Arena.

It was like everything that the Games were was suddenly rolling up on her, crushing her with implications and accusations that she had changed; that if she hadn't already, she would. There was a lump in her throat as she stared out at the glittering abyss that was known as the Capitol, hot tears barely pricking her eyes and refusing to fall.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From off to one side came the sound of rustling and footsteps: Wyatt coming through the garden.

He was trying to avoid his stylist; apparently there was some big to-do and the clothes-maker was runnin' about like a headless chicken. That could only mean another night of being pranced around like a show pony and Wyatt, for as long as he could get away with it, was having none of it.

Spotting the woman last minute like, he stopped, surprised, and politely removed his hat.

"Sorry, Ma'am. Didn't mean to intrude."

She didn't really expect to be left entirely alone up on the rooftop; it's as public an area as any, and it's the only one that doesn't remind them of the Games themselves. She manages to steel her expression at the sound of footfalls, briefly rubbing one eye before looking up at her companion.

Before tensing, as she realised - even in the dark - exactly who it was.

"You weren't," Ariadne tried, keeping her voice quiet and unconfrontational, in case he held a grudge against her. In the back of her mind, she could easily justify why she did what she did, but that didn't really change the fact that the last time she had seen this man - barring the time his picture was on the upper screen - was when he was lying dead in the mud.

He knew she was another like himself - a tribute. He's seen her, like the others, on the inescapable screens, but other than that....

All he saw was a pale face and haunted eyes.

Good sense said she wanted to be alone and that he should leave her to it - she was a stranger after-all - but his up-bringing held him in place.

"Is... is everythin' alright?"

It was probably a good sign that he hadn't attacked her on sight; all she could think of was the vendetta so many had against Tate, all the opportunities they would try to make just to kill him in reality if it was possible. Ariadne relaxed somewhat, loosening her grip on the railing as she tried to think of what to say.

"I- Wanted to apologise."

He blinked, and his brow slowly furrowed, neat little creases forming across his forehead.

His eyes twitched, glancing this way and that quickly, wondering if there was someone else here he hadn't spotted yet.

"I'm sorry?"

At this point, she wasn't sure if he was dumb, or if he just didn't remember. So she frowned a little, looking at him full-on, "I killed you at the Cornucopia. I could have saved you, and I didn't."

His head jerked back, eyes widening.

He'd only seen it the once, a replay that had caught him by surprise, and then he'd been more focused on the that he'd died - actually died - than the person who had caused it.

But now, the details came swimming back, both from those few terrible moments in the arena and the footage after: dark hair, small, female....

And it all matched up to the woman before him.

Then he blinked and his face hardened. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to feel.

Angry? Vengeful?

"Mighty big of you to admit it," he said finally.

Impressed? Embarrassed?

"I didn't know."

Well, that was a bit better, she decided. Still not entirely pleasant, and she wouldn't really blame him if he hated her; it wasn't exactly in line with how most people made their introductions, but he had the right to know, all the same.

"It's not like you stayed dead; you had a right to know," Ariadne stated, and for a moment, she might almost think that she actually sounded unaffected by the entire matter.

His head tipped, just a fraction, as his blue eyes looked her up and down - a quick, assessing measure.

"Did'ya want to kill me?" he asked bluntly, ignoring how very strange those words tasted.

"Not really," she replied simply, watching him for reactions, though it didn't prove to give her much. Not that it really mattered. "It just happened."

He eyed her a moment longer, then took a breath and gave a clipped sort of nod.

"Fair 'nough."

His hat turned in his hands, brim sliding under his palms. "I can understand that."

Ariadne tipped her head to one side, regarding him thoughtfully. After all of that, she honestly didn't know quite what to say, where to start. They'd have to deal with each other in all of the following Arenas after now; she knew it would be better to try and get him to be an ally rather than an enemy, right off the bat.

"How did you like the Capitol?"

"It's... certainly somethin'," he offered in reply, the corner of his mouth twitching, turning up in amusement.

Lord only knew how many of those fancy little cameras they had stashed out here.

"Pretty 'nough, I 'spose." He gestured with his hat, motioning to the view and moved closer to the railing (mindful to keep a respectful space between the two of them). "From this distance."

She nodded, not moving from where she leaned against the railing, glad for the sweater she'd had upon her arrival, and the fact that they had let her keep it even after then. Not that it hadn't taken a great deal of arguing with her stylist to save.

"I won't argue with you there. I'm glad there wasn't a giant ceremony this time around. I'm not sure I could handle all of the parties again," she stated idly, simply making conversation.

"It's too crowded here," he admitted after a moment's silence. "All these people here - strangers - pushin' on ya all the time and then not even understandin' why ya want nothin' to do with 'em."

"It's because they think we're fascinating. Not only are we from somewhere else, somewhere that isn't the Capitol, we're not even from the Districts," Ariadne said thoughtfully, glancing out over everything. "I can't really blame them for that. If I had the chance, it would be interesting to get to know someone who's lived here their whole life, I think."

Edited 2012-07-24 18:20 (UTC)

"Maybe if they were interested us for us," he replied, giving her a slow look. "Outside one, two, I've met... we're not worth anythin' to anyone but what we do in the arena."

"It does make sense, in a way. Even if it's not necessarily what I would ask for," she agreed, scrunching up her nose a little bit. "But you're right, I won't deny that."

Not that that gave him any particular sense of satisfaction.

He exhaled, heavy sort of sound, then nodded to the glittering skyline. "So what's the view like where yer from? If you don't mind me askin'."

"Something like this," Ariadne replied. "I'm from Paris. In France." Though she was fairly certain he was one of the more anachronistic people she'd met so far in the Arena, and wasn't entirely sure he'd have heard of Paris, it didn't hurt.

"It's calmer than this, though. People there like to stop and smell the roses, so to speak, rather than bustling between places and parties."

He had never been, but Dora had once.

With very little thought he could picture they way her face would light up when she told him about her travels.

"I've heard it's quite the place." He frowned. "Was?" He was never sure anymore.

"Is," she confirms with a small frown. "I don't think it went anywhere since I was there last. Not unless the Capitol has been branching out without telling us."

He supposed it was possible the rest of the world might have avoided whatever it was that had lead the United States to this. It was a mighty big place after all.

"Here's hopin'," he agreed with a small, thoughtful nod. "Would be nice to know there's an option out there - someplace that's not... like this."

"I'm pretty everyone's homes still exist. I would have heard about it if something like this had happened anywhere in the world," Ariadne muses, frowning a little. Surely someone on the plane would have told them that Los Angeles didn't exist, that a place called Panem had cropped up in its midst.

"If we can get back them," Wyatt said softly.

Thus far he hadn't heard of anyone being so lucky. Not even the winners.

"But if we can't...."

it's never ever too late [open]

'Cause it ain't a party until it gets hilariously awkward

Awww yeah, nothing like hilariously awkward things

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

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)