exsiliumlogs | no this is the opposite of what i wanted [OPEN]

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no this is the opposite of what i wanted [OPEN]

Date & Time: 7/5-7/10, typically in the late-late hours
Location: All over
Characters: Martin and many! YOU??
Summary: What a concept RUNNING INTO PEOPLE IN AN URBAN AREA.
Warnings: Martin is a gigantic sinkhole of misery and more misery it might make you want to throw your computer but please COME AT ME BRO

Hiding was a lot easier before the mission came along. It seemed the city was waking up, slowly but surely, to embrace the evening a little more than it did before. Lights from windows gave the streets a dim glow, played tricks with the shadows Martin's eyes were trained to follow and focus on. It was weird and unpleasant. Better for the people, maybe. But that wasn't any of his business. It never was.

He never did the right thing, whether he tried or not. Or maybe he did, but he was just unable to follow through. Either way, things would get worse, someone would get hurt...die...

He'd been training, best he could. Then that mission happened. Then, in that jungle...

It's all my fault.

If he walked fast enough, it would fall to the back of his mind, right? Or ran...

His shape flickered off walls in those glowing squares. Now and then, he saw the beams of lights of a late, late (or early) bus, and he'd skirt away like a frightened cockroach. There were quieter, empty places. Places to hide. And he'd find them, if he kept moving.

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Martin was sure he never remembered that enormous, glass-paned building before. But even if he did, it wasn't going to matter one way or the other, was it? Wondering about it seemed just about as futile as anything else.

It seemed it was secluded in the dark hours, though, which made it a fair thing to find; all it took was a little wheedling and poking about the perimeter to find the right-sized hole to shimmy through without too much fuss. Inside...

Inside was strange. Overgrown bushes and scattered, twisted trees and broken, stony paths...it seemed to Martin a forest in the wrong place: Nature belonged outside, not in.

And, for a moment, another twinge of guilt in memory. It was certainly nothing like the forests he and the others had been lost in for so long, but even so. He wound up thinking about it again. About how it was almost nice, at first, learning things. Getting to know people. It seemed almost good.

Then I killed him.

Got him killed, rather, but the wording didn't change what it meant to Martin. He could hide all he wanted from the people who reached out to him, but he couldn't hide from what he'd done. Goodness knows he was trying to.

His decision to leave came a little too late, what with the dawn creeping over distant buildings and glinting on metal framework above. He despaired for a moment, but quickly resigned himself to stay. He was tired, and he wasn't going to find any place nearly as quiet now that the world was waking up.

He found a thick trunk to curl up against, tucking himself up as best he could in the dirt, to try and sleep without thinking too much.

And, because he was trying to not think, made him think all the more.

It looked like an arena.

That was the first thought that came to Katniss' mind as she stared at the gardens, bow in hand. She felt sick, dizzy, just looking at it - but maybe that was because she'd spent too much time outside that day, wandering around. She couldn't remember too much of what she'd been doing, just that she'd drifted from place to place, expecting at any moment to be recognised. They don't know the girl on fire and they don't need her. Or maybe they did, but it couldn't be her. The Mockingjay was all burnt out; she couldn't spark anything, now.

The girl gave her head a shake, as if to clear the cluttering thoughts from it. She'd been getting better, back in Twelve, but it had been a while since she'd been around so many people, and she was exhausted. The smart thing to do right now would be to go back to the apartment, but the gardens were calling to her, and Katniss' survival instincts were long since skewed. She prowled around the perimeter until she found a suitable hole and pulled her body through it, taking more care with her bow than herself. Once she was through, she drew an arrow from the quiver at her back, holding it carefully between two fingers as she stepped silently through the growth.

It didn't take her long to find a suitable target. Setting the arrow to the string, she was about to loose it when a sound caught her attention; she whipped around, training her arrow at a lump at the base of a nearby tree. A person-shaped lump. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't shoot you." Somewhere in the back of her mind is the whisper of a promise she made to herself that gives her a reason, but here in this arena, she can't quite remember what it is.

He'd only shifted a little, half-awake and uncomfortable in his spot. A poor camper, he'd let himself drift off enough to make that sudden outburst terrifying.

With a violent start, he shot up from where he'd slumped over, palms digging into the dirt and wide eyes wildly searching and locking onto the girl and her bow. Where he faltered in detection, he made up for with an immediate awareness of his position, the weapon, the danger.

Awareness didn't translate into effective response, however. He did little and less but gape, arms and back stiffened in place.

The sudden movement on the part of whoever was on the ground made her fingers twitch, but that promise she'd made to herself months ago keeps Katniss from loosing it. She was a killer, but that didn't mean she had to keep doing it.

She narrowed her eyes, trying to see in the dim light. "You're not even going to try and come up with one?" She didn't lower the arrow, unsure if it was safe or not. "Who are you?"

Come up with...with what? Martin's brow wrinkled a little as he tried to recall her request precisely. It didn't seem to matter, though, as he was presented with something new.

"Nothing," he replied, a loud whisper. He quickly licked his lips, swallowed, and tried speaking up. "I'm nothing. I can leave. I didn't know..."

Nothing. The arrow dropped from the string and only just barely stayed between her suddenly nerveless fingers. Slowly, she returned it to the quiver.

"I don't own this place," she said after a moment. She could see the shape of the person now; it was a boy, younger than her, and the arena-feel only intensified. No, she won't kill here. She wants to be free from the Games. "I'm not going to make you leave if this is where you want to be."

The immediate danger vanished; he must've said something right. Martin let himself breathe again, though he wasn't eager to melt out of his stance, still ready to leap to his feet and make a quick exit...or attack, if need be.

And if...want? Want? Want to be...anywhere? He looked lost for a second, and then undeniably sad. Only then did he slump out of posture, sinking back toward the dirt.

"It's not mine, either," he uttered, his voice starting to drop as he sagged. I just wanted to be out of the way.

She was close enough to see he expression, and then he sagged and Katniss of all things felt bad. "You're young." It sounded more like she was confirming it to herself than actually asking. If she had to guess, she'd put him in his early teens, which only made a hard lump form in her throat. Prim's age.

"Why are you out here? Don't you have somewhere else to be? Somewhere better than a place like this?" A rush of frustration tore through her, and some of it bled through into her voice. She was so damn sick of seeing children dragged into these pointless wars.

There was a little twinge — a spark of heat under his skin and a buzz in his head, quickly felt and faster gone. Young implied different things for other people, he'd found, and he'd wound up having to defend his reasons for fighting, for...doing much of anything alone. I'm supposed to be grown up now.

Whatever protest he was formulating never made so much as a sound, mouth opening and closing again as the girl — some girl he never saw before — starting tossing questions out left and right. He stared dimly at her, still frowning, with the content of her words slowly sinking in and molding his expression to suit the replies he didn't say aloud.

"It's alright," I have to stay away. "Here is...fine." Because I hurt a lot of people. "But I can leave." And I shouldn't talk to anyone anymore.

Edited 2012-07-07 13:48 (UTC)

Katniss stared at him. There was a part of her that told her to just walk away, not get involved in this, but Katniss had always been particularly skilled at not listening to anyone. Including herself.

"Here is a derelict building overgrown with weird plants and crazy girls with weapons running around." Her tone was flat, matter-of-fact. "That's not fine. I mean - look, you can do what you want. But don't pretend that this is fine. It's terrible. I don't even want to be here." But she wasn't leaving, either.

"Crazy girls with weapons running around drew Martin's eyes back up, and with them, a more puzzled frown. There was more than just her? Or...was she just exaggerating? He hoped so — for more than the obvious reasons; as far as Martin was concerned, girls were pretty scary on their own most of the time, let alone armed.

Point-in-case: waking up with an arrow trained on him. She didn't even need it, really. Just the commanding voice she had.

And, as the girl went on pointing out the cons, Martin's face flushed, embarrassed and anxious. Life would've been so much easier, had all the people known to just leave something awful like him alone! He wasn't sure he had it in him to try and explain again.

"I don't mind it much," he mumbled in reply, scratching at his stiffened elbow, coaxing it to bend. "It's empty. Or...was..."

Meanwhile, Katniss was starting to feel awkward herself. Who was she, anyway, to bug this kid about what he was doing with his life? The girl on fire, all burned out. But the word 'kid' poked at her, and she couldn't help herself. It wasn't right.

"It's nature. It's never empty." She seemed agitated, not quite looking at him. "Can you even defend yourself out here?" Not that she was considering hijacking a nearby tree if he couldn't, or anything.

It's never empty. He grimaced again. Well, sure, but that...wasn't what he meant. He didn't feel up to arguing the point, though, and let it go.

"I'll be fine," he said, about as assuring as a cardboard box as cover in a typhoon. "It's nothing to worry about."

She crossed her arms. It was a little awkward, holding the bow, but she still managed to look unimpressed. "You fell asleep without any kind of protection, and froze up at the first sign of attack. That's not fine." She could feel some of the Katniss she used to be creeping into her words. She wasn't sure how to deal with that, so she ignored it for the time being. "At least climb the tree." She looked away. "I didn't say I was worried."

The critique hit its marks with virtually no protest at all; it was almost reassuring, in that familiar, constant push to train and excel he'd undergone in his homeland. It'd been so sorely lacking, save for the resounding remarks of stop apologizing and you shouldn't be out alone.

"No'm," he uttered to her feet. "Sorry."

It was too daring to glance up and get a more solid look at her, rather than the fast glimpses he'd been taking. She seemed angry underneath the aggravation, and Martin knew better than to hold a tiger by the tail. Still, with the slow, dragging breath he took, he couldn't get much sense of her on sensing alone. That was actually a relief; it made her human. He wouldn't have to fight her on principle.

Which, on the other hand, made it problematic. He shouldn't have been talking to her at all.

He began to shift, pressing his hands into the dirt as he rolled to his knees. "I'll go," he said. "Sorry."

The way he acted made her skin crawl. Reminded her of too many people when facing the Peacekeepers, made her feel dirty, unclean. Cruel. "Why are you apologising to me?" She didn't sound angry, or even hurt. Just confused. She didn't feel powerful, or in control, or like she had any kind of authority over this kid that would make him apologise to her like he is.

Martin's face scrunched and crinkled into a grimace, reluctant to reply. He didn't have a good answer anyhow; apologizing was just what he did. It was really the only consolation he could offer, what with the failure that shadowed his every move. Sorry in advance or beforehand carried the same weight to him.

But it wasn't very clear to anyone but him, he knew.

"It's...polite," he offered feebly, feeling the heat sting his cheeks, encouraging him to move faster. On his feet, he teetered once before he slumped into balance. He kept his eyes to the ground, scanning it for the easiest way around her.

"I'm not supposed to bother anyone, anyhow."

She twitched when he teetered, taking a quick step away. Sudden movements of any kind made her nervous, especially in this sort of atmosphere. "It's polite when you screw up. And you're not--" She made a frustrated sound, shoving a hand back through her hair. "Look, my name's Katniss. Katniss Everdeen. I'm not going to hurt you, you don't bother me, I was just - I don't know, around. I don't care what you do. But if you run into trouble in this place--"

Her throat worked, but she couldn't quite make the offer of help come out. Who was she to be offering help to this kid, any way? A broken girl who wouldn't even save her own sister. "Just look after yourself," she mumbled, turning to go. She was exhausted, anyway.

There was a very familiar feeling to it — to her, the way she reacted and began to withdraw. Martin felt his throat tighten a little, realizing it, feeling the heavy guilt bear down again and crush his lungs.

"D..." He had to swallow hard to find his voice again. "Don't worry. Please. It's fine." Whatever it was. It was hard to say who he was assuring between the two of them — both, perhaps. But he could hardly speak to whatever it was for her. Maybe that it would be fine, too.

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no this is the opposite of what i wanted [OPEN]

closed to katniss, 7/6

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sigh, tenses, my one true nemesis

it's ok it's a time travel game

HAHA excellent

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