You know the buttons, next to the door? The ones that control the lights and the temperature? I threw my phone at it. And I must have hit something, because it changed the gravity and it was really annoying.
[Now she just kind of sounds matter-of-fact about her irritation.]
Especially because I was still really hot. Now it's your turn. Tell me something interesting.
[ Just possibly lopsided, but they've already been over that. He sounds amused, though it quiets down a bit while he works out how to answer her question. ]
He can control it like it's his own arm. He held off one of the mutts with it— the ones from the 74th Games.
[ The wolves, whatever they were. Peeta doesn't have to ask if she'd watched the coverage, not when they'd been up against each other in the 75th. Homework, same as her victory had been for him. ]
[That is interesting, in a slightly perverse sort of way. It's not like there's any honor or glory in losing a limb--and even if there was, that's not the sort of thing that Johanna is into. But even all of Johanna's bitterness doesn't stop her from thinking that someone with an arm like that is someone she probably wants to meet.
Except before she says any of that, or even really thinks it, wariness shades in to her tone.]
What do you mean, he held off a mutt with it. When did that happen. [More importantly--] They were here?
[ It's the only honest answer he has, though it sounds like he's thinking it through even as he says it. It'd been real. It had felt real, registered on every one of his senses, but it still shouldn't have been possible. Even the Capitol had limits; the ship's surpassed them. ]
The hallways. When they changed— I thought I was back at the Capitol. The mutts were there.
[Johanna's answering silence goes on for too long and she knows it. Hallways that change, monsters from nowhere. Everyone's told her things just like this, but it was easy to assume that they were exaggerating, that they were just scared. The ship is bad, she knows, but it can't be that bad. Not after where she's been.
Having Peeta be the one to say it makes it different. It shouldn't, but it does. She's just as stupid as the rest of them, just as weak and as dumb--there's a little door, in her head, and it opens onto a white hallway. The hum of electricity, never loud enough to keep out the screams.
There's an itch in her hand, a desire to just hang up the phone and end this. But she doesn't--instead, eventually, she breaks her silence with a laugh. It's too loud. This was supposed to be a game. She shouldn't be this easy, not after everything.]
And you're sure, that it's not the Capitol running this show. Because I think this shit is getting more familiar by the day.
[ Reading people used to be easy. There are still moments of clarity, when conversation's so far removed from himself and Panem that memories can't get in the way. Even with Johanna, it's difficult — whatever clarity he gets from her is frantic, run through a filter of white walls and screams, her face covered in blood. He can't even remember if that's just the 75th Games, the sight of it tangled up in what came after.
Even when he's got it right, there's nothing truly lucid about it. He knows that her silence is heavy, complicated. Knows there's anger and fear in it, though he's never quite decided if she dropped the distinction between the two feelings somewhere around her first games or well before. Part of him wishes he could take back the words that caused it, but he just sounds detached when he replies. ]
Does it matter? We're here. There's no Mockingjay to break us out.
[ Katniss, yes. The machine behind her, the people with the real power, the ones playing them all, they're not — chess pieces can't move themselves. ]
[She spits out the word, her sudden twist of anger in stark contrast to his quiet detachment.]
Fuck the Mockingjay. I was never doing any of it for them. If it's the Capitol, I want to know, so I can personally get involved. [guess how if your guess involves axes you win] Don't tell me you'd really stay out of it. After everything that happened?
[Which is maybe a shade too close, a mere step away from the white hallways and the screaming. Johanna opts to white-knuckle it, careening right through without stopping or thinking.]
If it's the Capitol, I want to help peel some pretty perfect skin off of some pretty perfect skulls.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
voice; thank tyra
[ Sounding a little bit offended, because why the fuck would you turn off the gravity in your room. Sounds like a mess waiting to happen. ]
How did you find that out?
voice;
[Now she just kind of sounds matter-of-fact about her irritation.]
Especially because I was still really hot. Now it's your turn. Tell me something interesting.
voice;
There's a man here— he has a metal arm. I think it's more advanced than anything the Capitol could come up with.
[ Since you're so into amputation, and everything. ]
voice;
Aww. Don't sell yourself short. That's funny, because without your metal leg, you'd be short.
[cripple jokes that are overly explained you better laugh Peeta this is the height of humor. but okay she's mildly interested--]
What does it do, that it's so great?
voice;
[ Just possibly lopsided, but they've already been over that. He sounds amused, though it quiets down a bit while he works out how to answer her question. ]
He can control it like it's his own arm. He held off one of the mutts with it— the ones from the 74th Games.
[ The wolves, whatever they were. Peeta doesn't have to ask if she'd watched the coverage, not when they'd been up against each other in the 75th. Homework, same as her victory had been for him. ]
voice;
Except before she says any of that, or even really thinks it, wariness shades in to her tone.]
What do you mean, he held off a mutt with it. When did that happen. [More importantly--] They were here?
voice;
[ It's the only honest answer he has, though it sounds like he's thinking it through even as he says it. It'd been real. It had felt real, registered on every one of his senses, but it still shouldn't have been possible. Even the Capitol had limits; the ship's surpassed them. ]
The hallways. When they changed— I thought I was back at the Capitol. The mutts were there.
voice;
Having Peeta be the one to say it makes it different. It shouldn't, but it does. She's just as stupid as the rest of them, just as weak and as dumb--there's a little door, in her head, and it opens onto a white hallway. The hum of electricity, never loud enough to keep out the screams.
There's an itch in her hand, a desire to just hang up the phone and end this. But she doesn't--instead, eventually, she breaks her silence with a laugh. It's too loud. This was supposed to be a game. She shouldn't be this easy, not after everything.]
And you're sure, that it's not the Capitol running this show. Because I think this shit is getting more familiar by the day.
voice;
Even when he's got it right, there's nothing truly lucid about it. He knows that her silence is heavy, complicated. Knows there's anger and fear in it, though he's never quite decided if she dropped the distinction between the two feelings somewhere around her first games or well before. Part of him wishes he could take back the words that caused it, but he just sounds detached when he replies. ]
Does it matter? We're here. There's no Mockingjay to break us out.
[ Katniss, yes. The machine behind her, the people with the real power, the ones playing them all, they're not — chess pieces can't move themselves. ]
voice;
[She spits out the word, her sudden twist of anger in stark contrast to his quiet detachment.]
Fuck the Mockingjay. I was never doing any of it for them. If it's the Capitol, I want to know, so I can personally get involved. [guess how if your guess involves axes you win] Don't tell me you'd really stay out of it. After everything that happened?
[Which is maybe a shade too close, a mere step away from the white hallways and the screaming. Johanna opts to white-knuckle it, careening right through without stopping or thinking.]
If it's the Capitol, I want to help peel some pretty perfect skin off of some pretty perfect skulls.