thearena | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Fairly natural thought," he shrugged. "I didn't think I'd survive. Somehow, I did." His tone seemed almost reverential, as if completely in awe of that fact. "You've taken to sleeping with one eye open, then?"

A small smile cracked in return, growing a little bit when Draco caught a glimpse of her grin. "All right, I could go for that. What better way to spend our hard-earned money, after all?" He asked, teasing mildly with a light shake of his head.

"I don't sleep much at all, really," she said, then waved a hand at Draco's harpoon. "Congratulations are in order, then. On getting that and not dying." She managed to make it sound as though it was a polite comment on a new and fashionable suit Draco had managed to acquire.

"It's a deal then. If it comes to that, of course." She felt safe enough to let her gaze turn from Draco to wander the snowy landscape around them. "Just because we are where we are is no reason to be barbaric about it, after all."

It occurred to her to wonder what would happen if it came down to just the two of them, in the end, but she pushed the thought away. Mostly because she was fairly certain she would push Draco into the icy sea at first chance and feel bad about it afterwards. It didn't require much wondering.

Appreciating both the comment and the nature thereof equally, Draco nodded to her with a light smile, more than happy to go along with it. Even if her comment about not sleeping made him stop and frown a little. Not that he knew her well enough to really comment on it.

"Of course," he echoed pleasantly, tipping his head in agreement. He had words lingering on the tip of his tongue - that everyone always seemed to forget themselves in this place, that they suddenly became animals after a day or two - but recalled the cameras. He didn't need that kind of negative publicity, not when he needed a sponsor like he needed air. "Though I'll admit, I hope it doesn't come to that."

"Me too," said Momoko, sincerely. At least one of them had to die--and, to be blunt, likely both of them would be dying, and soon--but for all her jokes she would prefer if it wasn't one of them taking out the other. But blunt wasn't always good for the cameras. The Capitol only wanted so much reality in their drama, and just because Momoko wasn't actively trying for Sponsors at the moment was no reason to put them off entirely.

She changed the subject. "It's dull, and it's cold, but at least it's pretty."

Draco, on the other hand, was actively trying for sponsors. Anything that got him a handful more fans that couldn't be brought in on good looks alone was good in his books, and part of the reason he was enjoying Momoko's company so much was because it made him seem more likeable, he was sure. Instead of just being standoffish and disagreeable.

"I've never been that partial to snow, but I'll admit it has a certain something. It might be a good spot to vacation, perhaps. If it weren't an Arena," he mused, hiding a smirk by ducking his face down into his jacket briefly.

Momoko laughed, concentrating to make it a girlish giggle through her mild amusement. "I can't imagine coming her on purpose. For fun," she said with feeling. "You shouldn't have to work so much to not die on a vacation, for one thing," she added, tugging at her coat.

"The last Arena, maybe," she continued after a moment of thought. "It was nice and peaceful, so long as it didn't still make me sick. But the one before that, that is a place to spend a vacation. I think it was before you came--it was some little islands, with beaches all around." She sighed. "It'd be nice to go to a beach again."

"I should hope not. That would sort of negate it being a vacation," Draco murmured, offering a goodnatured smirk of agreement over to her. The reminder of the islands brought a bit of amusement to his expression, "I remember that one. It was my first Arena. I hid in bloody palm trees for as long as I could. I suppose if people weren't running around trying to off each other, that one might be pleasant, though. It was fairl beautiful, all things considered."

"Oh," she said, surprised. "I didn't realize you'd been here so long." Not that she paid much attention to the other Tributes who weren't actively trying to kill her or keep her from dying. That was probably something else that should change with her strategy. "The best Arenas are the ones with the places to hide, yes. Let everyone else run around tiring themselves out and making enemies the first week or so. And when it's nice and pretty, aside from the obvious of course, that's a bonus. The Capitol is very good at making pretty things."

"Neither did I," he told her a bit wryly. It had simultaneously felt like no time at all, and ages. Half the time, Draco wasn't even sure this wasn't just a terrible nightmare. He wouldn't be surprised, at least.

"That's an interesting strategy you have," Draco stated, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. He knew she had more of a chance than she thought she did. She knew her weaknesses, at least. "It works, though. I like it. I might have to hide more in the future."

"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."