thearena | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Who| Momoko and Open
What| Momoko's alone and bored
Where| Her camp with Don (and Dean?) in a crevasse not too far from the Cornucopia
When| A day or so after the first day
Warnings| None so far

Of all the emotions Momoko felt in the arena, boredom always took her by surprise. Last time it had been overshadowed by the sickness and her growing apathy; now, she had nothing to distract her from it. Even Don was gone for the moment, out scouting, leaving on her staunch promise to stay safe.

Well, she was never the most truthful of people, and anyway, it must be just as boring for the viewers, which was always a concern. Not to mention it would be easier to keep watch when she could actually see. With all these excuses flitting through her head she drew herself up out of the crevasse with some difficulty.

She'd actually tried to train this time, but a few weeks could only do so much and Momoko let herself lie flat for a long moment to catch her breath before she sat up to survey her surroundings.

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"It does tend to blend together after a while," she agreed.

"It usually works. Well, until I die of course, but mostly that only happens when I stop hiding." Momoko considered this, and amended, "Except for the time I was killed while hiding, but of you can't hide from nature." Or Gamemakers.

"The problem is," she went on, taking on her favorite lecturing tone, "once you've let the others fight it out and kill each other, you're left with the people who were either hiding as well, and so are at least as smart as you, or the ones who fought and survived, which means they're almost definitely stronger."

He shook his head a little, chuckling under his breath. "That's what I've found, too. Seems to me you either have to be particularly brilliant, or concoct a scheme to get them to kill each other off while you quietly mastermind it from behind the scenes. That way, you never leave your hiding spot."

Then again, you needed an ally of some sort to actually make that work. But trial and error - that was the name of the game here. He was starting to get sick of it, but that was still how it worked.

Momoko raised her eyebrows. "That would do it," she said, an almost admiring tone just audible in her voice. "You know, you're possibly the most sensible person I've met here."

It was true, in Momoko's opinion. Everyone else was either focused on how unfair it was and falling over themselves to help the weaker ones, which was obviously helpful in Momoko's case but hardly sensible--or they were mad killers in it for the blood, at least it seemed to her.

He was just a Slytherin. It was practically hard-wired in him to surround himself with people who could do what he couldn't, and that was no different in the Arena. It was just a little harder.

Draco shifted a little, shooting her an appreciative grin. "I do try. Not that it's terribly hard, if you've seen some of the people who're around here. I can't say very many of them are sensible at all."

"I may have noticed a pattern of that sort," Momoko said, grinning back. "But I'm sure it makes great television. I don't think most people want to watch someone being sensible, for some reason."

"I still don't grasp the concept of wanting to watch people at all, but whatever they like, I suppose," he mused, offering up a steady sigh as he glanced around, wondering where they hid the cameras in a place like that. He hadn't found them that easily, not that he'd have recognised them all that well anyway.

Momoko shrugged. "It's like sports, I think. It's basically the same thing over and over, but people watch it anyway. They get invested."

"That's bizarre." But then again, he did love sports; the Quidditch World Cup had always been terribly exciting to him, perhaps just because he loved the sport so much. But these Games weren't nearly so entertaining. "I don't think I'll ever get that."

"You're not supposed to get that," Momoko pointed out. "We're here to play, not watch. It's..." She just barely kept herself from looking disgusted. Letting her guard down somewhat was one thing, but to show disdain for the Games or the Capitol traditions was practically suicide. "It's an honor," she finishes finally.

"An honour indeed," he agreed, glancing up to the sky with slightly wide grey eyes. He knew just as well as she did not to dare utter anything blasphemous against the Capitol or the Games. He didn't want to die, after all; not in the way that was far more permanent. "But one day, we'll all be out there, watching, won't we?"

"Oh yes," said Momoko softly, trying to force hope into her voice. The others said they would do their best, but relying on others rankled at the best of times, and she couldn't help thinking that the Gamemakers wouldn't be too keen to let that sort scheming continue for long. But no point in letting that show. "That is the dream."

Providing all scheming was kept quiet, there was probably no end to how long it could go on for; that said, most people weren't actually that good at keeping things quiet. Someone had to know eventually. And that was probably when the Gamemakers would throw them all for a loop. But he shot her a mild grin anyway, glad he wasn't exactly alone in those Games any longer. "Eventually, I'm sure. Then we can enjoy the Capitol life to the fullest."

She smiled back. "Exactly. Someday, we'll be Capitol Citizens in our own right." What a horrible thought, really, but it would sound good on camera and it was better than the alternative. "But perhaps we'll avoid the fashions."

That stole a laugh from him, genuine if a bit quiet. "Or maybe we'll get Stylists who like the same things we do. We can set trends in minimalism. Or ruffles. Whichever you like." He paused, thinking on that. "Actually, I think that the Capitol might like ruffles."

Momoko shuddered. "They do," she said ominously. "Some of them have tried to copy the clothes I like, but they--they don't do it right." That was putting it lightly. Lolita was hardly a style of minimalism, but the Capitol as always managed to make it even more audacious.

The look on his face at her ominous tone reflected that he understood the notion quite well. "Maybe you can just design your own things instead of relying upon them quite so much. That'd keep you busy out there."

"Perhaps," she said, turning away. The comment hit hard, abruptly, reminding her of home and of the choice she'd never had a chance to make. Would she have enjoyed embroidering for Baby? Was there any sort of work she could enjoy? "I don't know much about designing. Sometimes I would add a little something to the things I bought, but that's about it."

She took a breath and looked back at Draco, forcing thoughts of home away once again. "What about you? What do you do when you're not wrestling harpoons away from our fellow Tributes?"

"There's a brilliant Stylist for my District; he might be willing to show you the ropes, if you asked nicely," Draco pointed out, looking vaguely interested in the matter. Mostly because it seemed as though he'd said the wrong thing, and he was curious as to why that was.

Interest remained written across his face when she looked back at him, and he shrugged. "Not much of anything, I'm afraid. I used to read a lot, but I haven't found quite as much to catch my interest here as back home."

"That might be nice," she said carefully. "If I have the time. Is he the one who made you into a dragon for Halloween?"

She brightened. "I used to read a lot too! I can't read most of the books here, though, and I'm not sure I'd want too." She almost continued with, 'considering what they consider entertainment', but quickly bit that comment back. Talking with Draco like this was dangerous. She forgot herself, just then.

"Merlin, no. Cinna dresses people properly," he declared quite proudly, having some inclination that Cinna would probably be watching even now. Not that he said it to suck up - that was simply a benefit of the thing. Still, even as he went on, there was little by way of annoyance in his voice. "That was Effie's idea. We all matched, you know."

Sniggering to himself, he just smirked a little. He caught that hesitation. "I understand that," Draco offered, saving her the trouble of having to elaborate. "Why can't you read them, though?"

"That's right," she said, remembering now. "Effie's...enthusiastic, like that." This careful choice of words was less an attempt to avoid insulting the woman, cameras or no, and more a failure of Momoko to think of a more appropriate word to describe Ms. Trinket.

"The language translators, that make so we speak the same thing mostly," she waved a hand vaguely, indicating her complete lack of understanding and interest in the way the technology worked. "It translates things out loud, so I hear you speaking Japanese right now, but not things written down. I don't know how to read...English? I think it's English. Only Kanji and some French."

Draco sniggered quietly, appreciating the choice of words. He was sure Effie might appreciate them, too. Hopefully, at least. He had a hard time figuring out how to describe her at the best of times, not really finding too many faults with her that he could exploit; he did like her, all things considered. More than he'd expected.

"Wouldn't you know it, I barely thought about all of that at all." What with his own knowledge being even less than hers - even less than most people's, really - and him having no inclination to change that. "I wonder if I couldn't just teach you. Or translate it for you. Haven't the slightest inkling of how to read Japanese, but I can do French."

"Oh? That might be nice," Momoko said with a small smile. "Or you can just follow me around and read the signs and things for me. I don't know much French, really, just what I was learning in school before I was here."

"Well, I imagine I'd have to jump through a hoop or two to get that job. Following you around constantly?" He sniggered. "And wouldn't you get sick of me eventually?"

"The hiring process is very rigorous. But, no, I don't think I would," Momoko dismissed the thought. "I have a friend back home, Ichigo, I hated her and she followed me around until I stopped. I don't know if it works the other way around."