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Post by Miss Jack on Mar 2, 2009 2:18:49 GMT -5
Djali trailed behind Fitz at a slower pace. He paused at the compartment she'd entered and after a brief hesitation, slipped inside.
Instead of sitting across from her, he chose the seat directly on her left.
"It was good of you not to let your brother take your place," he said, a bit awkwardly.
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Post by Jules on Mar 2, 2009 2:23:17 GMT -5
"No, it wasn't." Let no one have any deluded ideas of Fitz's herocism. "He's the one that's going to feel all the pain. I'll be six feet under, it would've been good of me to let him." It's what she told herself anyways, and it was partly true. But another part of her much rather that she got brutally murdered than him.
"I'm sorry you got picked." She was surprised he was making an effort at all, when she'd tried to make it clear she had no interest in working at this. If he started to attempt to convince her to fight for her life, she was going to throw a fit.
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Post by Miss Jack on Mar 2, 2009 2:32:23 GMT -5
"And I'm sorry you got picked," he replied softly. "I'm sorry for anyone chosen. Even those in District Two and Four, that think they want the opportunity." His eyes melted in thought. "I am looking forward to the meals before it all begins, though." He didn't know why, exactly, he was continuing with this superficial conversation, or why the ease of words seemed to be a comfort, when usually it was such a discomfort.
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Post by Jules on Mar 2, 2009 21:56:59 GMT -5
The talk of meals reminded her of murder's row and how you got one final meal of your choice before they sliced your head off. It reminded her of the witch getting Hanzel and Gretel nice and chubby before she tried to eat them. Fitz shivered. "I don't know, it's kind of sick, all of it, don't you think? Them trying to pork us up so we'll have more lasting power so their precious Games aren't too boring."
She peeked at him out of the corner of her eye and sighed. Maybe she wasn't being fair, maybe he had some hope and it wasn't really the best thing for her to stomp all over that and spit on it. "I mean, it also strengthens you for the Games. Almost nice, in a way." Fitz tried to back track. "Look, I'm not exactly a spring of encouragement. Maybe you want to ride with our esteemed mentors."
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Post by Miss Jack on Mar 2, 2009 23:15:53 GMT -5
His brow lifted. Morbid, much?
"No," he said, with a slight smile. "You're right. I just don't have a lot of depth."
Ignoring her offer to go ride with the mentors (which sincerely held little appeal to him), he turned, listlessly watching the passing scenery out the window.
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Post by Jules on Mar 2, 2009 23:34:53 GMT -5
Fitz followed suite and was content to do that until about halfway through the trip. She'd been staring out the window as scenery changed, which wasn't as boring as it sounded, since she'd never been far out of The Seam. Maybe it was the comfortable silence between them that made her spit it out, maybe it was that she didn't want him to think she was hopelessly pessimistic. Fitz didn't really know, but still staring out the window she confessed:
"I'm diabetic. I used to take as many tesserae as I could and I would sell them to other people so their children didn't have to put their names in, and I would scrounge up the cash to buy my insulin. My family would've helped me if they could, but they're poor and I wouldn't let my siblings put their names in for my benefit. My name must've been in that bin hundreds of times over, I'm surprised it took this long for me to be called." She laughed bitterly, "I guess it's good in a way. I don't know how I would've made the money for my insulin once I turned nineteen."
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Post by Miss Jack on Mar 3, 2009 0:23:10 GMT -5
He turned, faintly surprised. Diabetics rarely lived into their teen years, it was such a difficult ailment to cope with. His lips pressed together in a hard line.
"That's the real reason you said don't bother," he commented softly. He paused. "You can still survive." And he hoped he wasn't lying.
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Post by Jules on Mar 3, 2009 21:34:46 GMT -5
Fitz shrugged, letting her gaze drop into her lap. "I've thought about it over and over again, and the best situation I can think of is pretty much hopeless. I'm not lookin for pity or anything, I only said anything because I'm not a pessimist. I want to live, but if I'm being realistic, it's obvious I'm not going to."
She shifted in her seat awkwardly. There wasn't anyone she'd talked to as much besides Mica in the last seventeen years of her life. In a large family, it was hard to get a word in edge wise, but she was used to having Mica. Lacking him, she was becoming talkative with Djali. But if she had already accepted her own death, why not befriend and help the boy as much as she could? "That's why you've got to get them to focus on you, you've got a chance, for me it's like being all dressed up for the chair or something, you know? It's not...it feels wrong."
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Post by Miss Jack on Mar 4, 2009 19:43:27 GMT -5
The edges of his mouth curled into a sardonic smile. "No, you are a pessimist," he said wryly. "But so is everyone else. You're not suicidal."
The reality was everyone but one person was being dressed up for the chair, as she put it. The decoration the capital put on this slaughter-game was more than wrong, it was sickening.
"The insulin and regular supply of food you need wouldn't be an impossible situation if you had the right sponsors," he added. "Which is precisely the reason they should focus on you."
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Post by Jules on Mar 4, 2009 21:08:32 GMT -5
"It's the right sponsors that are impossible." She didn't mean to be pessimistic, and the more she talked, the more she realized why he might be getting that impression, but to her, she was simply realistic.
"I don't have any skills. If it wasn't for the diabetes, I might be able to survive a bit, but I'm not a fighter, I'm not beautiful, I'm not smart or witty. I don't think people are going to pay chunks of money to keep me alive."
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Post by Miss Jack on Mar 4, 2009 21:18:42 GMT -5
He tilted his head. "You're not... unattractive." His severe features went into 'study' mode as he looked her up and down. "Being witty doesn't have much to do with anything. Charming someone in the opening interview will only get you so far. You seem plenty smart to me. You are not, for example, deluded about your situation, nor are you succumbing to mindless panic. I think you don't give yourself enough credit."
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Post by Jules on Mar 4, 2009 21:46:20 GMT -5
Fitz didn't appreciate being studied like she was a book. She'd never considered herself anything but boyish, and had never had the fascination with boys girls her age seemed to always have. Perhaps because she'd always had her brother. "You're not so bad yourself, you just look a little pointy." But they all looked a little pointy, "When you get some fat on you, you'll be a heart breaker." She joked and looked out the window again, ignoring the rest of what he said.
"We're here..." And she couldn't help the slight touch of awe in her voice as the gleaming buildings of the Capitol started sliding into view.
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Post by Miss Jack on Mar 4, 2009 22:45:44 GMT -5
He smiled dryly. "No--"
But then they had arrived, and despite himself, he turned to look. His eyes widened at the large buildings, the color, the general brilliance of the vast city that ruled their lives. God help us, he thought absently. Even if he could shoot an arrow, or throw a decent punch, such a petty skill... in the grand scheme of things...
"Shit," he said.
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Post by Jules on Mar 4, 2009 23:17:22 GMT -5
Fitz, with her future already secured (in a morbid way, but none the less) didn't feel so intimidated by the grand structures and alien views. "You'll do fine. I can tell. Worse comes to worse, you can cut people with that face of yours. Not to say you aren't handsome."
She wasn't even looking at him, a jittery nervous energy seemed to have filled her limbs as she thought about what was going to happen next. They were going to be made over and prepped for their interviews. They wouldn't be able to do much with her, but she thought with some work Djali could pull that severe face into something austere and intimidating. She was pretty sure they got to pig out before the makeover though, which was good, because they were both a little too thin.
The train pulled to a stop and she heard the sound of footsteps approaching their car. Fitz stood and stretched out her hand before remembering Mica wasn't there to take it. A pang of pain ran across her face and she swallowed thickly.
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Post by Miss Jack on Mar 4, 2009 23:49:01 GMT -5
Effie opened the door and beamed broadly at them. She announced that their first meal was to be served, and expected them to be delighted by it. In most regards, she wasn't disappointed. Though Djali recognized the 'fatten the pig' gesture, a good meal was still a good meal.
He stood and flourished a hand to Fitz. "Ladies first," he said. He had complimented her firm head, but if she truly thought he could be handsome, then she was a little delusional.
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