it's never ever too late [open]

[buildingreality]

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.

Comments

[retrieverchef]

He sighs and looks away. "I would expect them to turn it on us if they found out," he says quietly. "They'll use everything about us against us. Who we are, what we know, what we can do, who we care about." His eyes grow haunted as he speaks, old wounds making their presence known. "That doesn't mean we should just give in. Maybe that idea won't work now. Just means we need to find one that will. If we do nothing, we'll just lose ourselves."

[buildingreality]

She doesn't want to point out that she's seen people lose themselves because they've tried to do things, that his suggestion is a faster way to losing himself than she can possibly think of. She merely holds her silence, staring out over the stars and the city instead of dwelling on things she's seen. His general idea is fine, she won't dispute that; it's merely the way he's trying to push it on her. It won't work, she thinks, but she can't tell him that in more concise words.