thearena | (no subject)

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cassandra marko

(no subject)

Who| Momoko and Sandy [Closed]
What| Momoko runs into someone who is actually younger and smaller than her.
Where| Near Sandy and Javert's hideout.
When| About midday, let's say.
Warnings| None at the moment.

This was not going to make Don happy. But then, this wasn't about making Don happy, after all. This was about making the viewers happy, keeping them interested, and somehow Momoko doubted that watching her shiver in a crevasse for days on end was very interesting. So she'd taken the chance to sneak away and do a little exploring, on the assumption that this particular Arena had the advantage that she could see anyone coming after her from a mile off.

And she was armed, of course. She wasn't stupid. It was only a knife tucked into her clothing, but it was enough to keep her feeling relatively safe as she wandered, searching for...something interesting. Something certain people would find interesting.

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"The Reign mostly." Sandy answered. And when it became clear Momoko didn't know what she meant she continued, "Not like rain like the weather. I mean it always rained but the police force was called "The Reign." She clarified.

"And they loved to pick on kids. You don't let yourself get caught by the Reign. It might be the last anyone sees of you."

"Sounds confusing," said Momoko, for lack of anything else to say. She was a little concerned now, that a kid who needed to hide from the police may be less harmless than she appeared. But police were, in her cynical view, quite alright with picking on the weaker members of society, so maybe not.

"They have a fancy name for the police here too, Peacekeepers. It's silly, I think, there's nothing wrong with just calling them what they are." They were making small talk now, she thought vaguely, which she supposed was better than the alternative.

"Fascists you mean?" Sandy grumbled remembering her brief encounter with the peacekeepers. "Have you met they Avox's yet? Those guys are freaky! And I don't even know how bad you gotta screw up to get made one yet."

"Hm," she said noncommittally at the 'fascists' remark, ever mindful of the cameras. She didn't quite understand the question about the Avoxes, though, and frowned. "You mean the servants? Well, they're very quiet and I wouldn't want to be a servant either, of course, but I don't know about 'freaky'."

"They are totally freaky. That silence and the way they look at you? I'd have the chills if I wasn't freezing to death."

"Well, how would you expect them to look?" Momoko shrugged. "I mean, they never have to come here, but in the Capitol they're stuck waiting on us and everyone else all the time. Why would they have any warm feelings towards the likes of us? And we're foreigners as well."

Sandy frowned "Good point, not that it makes me feel any better about it." Not that she figured she had any reason to worry. It wasn't like she was gonna be seeing them again. She was starting to wonder just what she was doing out here, waiting for death? Did she really think she could somehow outlive and outlast everyone?

"But it's not like any of us asked to come here."

Edited 2013-02-15 20:02 (UTC)

"No, of course not, though I'm sure we all appreciate the honor," said Momoko, and she was really getting sick of that particular line. There was a flash of a grimace before she quickly smoothed it away, hoping it would just be attributed to the cold or something.

"And we've both survived this long, that's something to be grateful for"

Sandy still wasn't getting it. She quirked an eyebrow at Momoko's reasoning. "I don't think the word honor means what you think it means. Either that or you really don't understand how New Yorkers feel about dieing."

"Nobody likes dying," Momoko snapped before she could stop herself. She hesitated, visibly composing herself before continuing. "Honor isn't about getting nice things. It's about doing--" what you're told "--what you have to, for reasons you may not fully understand."

Sandy didn't seem convinced. She starred at Momoko trying to understand her reaction.

"Doing what we're told. How fun. If I wanted to take orders I wouldn't have cut class so much."

"We're not here to have fun," Momoko pointed out. "We're here to be watched."

The way this girl talked was starting to get on Sandy's nerves. Maybe it was the hunger, maybe it was the cold but it was all starting to pile up.

"I don't want to be watched! I don't want to fight and I don't want to die."

"Do you think that matters?" Momoko countered, a life of cynicism and four Arenas leaving her with little sympathy for the little girl. "We're not here for what we want, we're for--" She stopped herself just in time, before she could say anything too damning.

"How much did they tell you," she asked instead of completing the sentence.

Sandy's frown was becoming increasingly set in her fave the more this girl acted like she should just accept the situation.

"That we're here to fight and die on TV all for those districts full of people we've never met."

"And do you think the people who would bring us here for that care about what we want?" she asked pointedly, giving up on being coy for the moment. This part of the conversation will never make it to air, she doesn't have to worry about losing Sponsors for being too cynical, too perceptive. "There's no reason to fight it or complain. That accomplishes nothing."

Sandy pouted feeling like Momoko had a point. An entire world of people who only cared about her for however entertaining she was.

"Well it makes me feel better at least." She finally muttered uselessly.

"At the very least it reminds me I haven't gone completely crazy and just accept this all as right."

"Hardly an accomplishment," Momoko muttered back. "You don't have to accept it as 'right'. That doesn't matter. It is what it is, you accept that and learn to live with it. Literally, in this case."

Sandy just stared looking puzzled at Momoko's reasoning. "That sounds really deep and somehow doesn't make me feel better at all."

After a half a beat she added, "And I get it you weren't trying to make me feel better either so don't go jumping on that too."

"Is this really living though? Or is it just surviving?" That was the next thought to drift across the jumbled landscape of Sandy's mind.

Momoko shrugged. The girl was quicker than some, at least. "Either way, it's better than neither."

Sandy could still barely imagine resigning herself to such a fate. "Have you always been like this?" Though she wasn't sure what word she could use to describe the girls attitude.

"Sensible?" Twisted, more likely. The answer to both being, "Yes, since I was a little girl. It's worked for me so far." Aside from the being kidnapped and killed multiple times, and it hadn't been a great help when she was facing down dozens of biker girls either but. Still.

That was one word for it Sandy supposed, "I still don't know if I can play this sick game. It makes me want to throw up and I haven't even eaten anything today."

"If you can't play, you'll definitely die, so you might as well try," said Momoko and then, after a brief hesitation, added, "Do you need food?" It was, she told herself, good too look generous, especially to children. That was all.

Sandy was about to say no, instinct told her accepting handouts was just asking for trouble, after all she already owed Javert more then she could imagine. but her stomach chose that moment to gurgle in opposition.

"...well if you have any to spare..."

"Don, my ally, he's good at gathering supplies. He wouldn't mind sharing." For a second Momoko considered the possibility of Don being annoyed at her offering to share their supplies, then discarded the concern. If anything he'd be happy to have another helpless girl to protect. He was strange like that.

"Oh...cool." Sandy looked around as if she expected Don to just materialize out of the air. "Where is he?" Maybe she had to go find this guy first. She didn't have anything to share except her ice axe and sleeping bag, and she wanted to keep those. Maybe he'd like the container that her last couple cans of food had arrived in?

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