Kobe Bryant (probablydead) wrote in colosseum, @ 2014-01-29 13:12:00 |
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Merryweather sat down on the couch in their quarters and she reached for one of the thick, buttery biscuits that had been left out for them. She put some of the brown sweet jam that had been left out next to it and spread it liberally on the biscuit before taking a bite. She closed her eyes for a second and then opened them, if there was anything good, and there wasn’t, about being Reaped it was the food. “This is so good,” Merryweather told Kobe before taking another bite, ignoring the crumbs that were on her shirt. She chewed and then swallowed. “What do you think about the non-Career alliance in all honesty?” Kobe took a bite and shook his head. The food was good, better than anything he'd have in the arena, better than anything he'd had at home, even as the mayor's son. It hadn't taken him long to realize where that put him, in relation to the other tributes. It wasn't so different from home. "I don't like it," he admitted ruefully. "Feist and Fawn seem to think it's a good idea, but I don't trust any other tribute not to kill me once they realize I'm useless." Absently, he ripped a biscuit into segments, letting each bit of bread fall into a pile on his plate. "I can barely trust you not to do that." They both wanted a District 10 win, but the Games had only one victor. "I bet Feist told you to leave me for dead if I slowed you down." “We both know I can’t go home if I let you die, even if I did win,” Merryweather said. But she was glad that he felt a similar way, she just wasn’t sure about it. The other tributes, they all seemed too eager to kiss up to the Careers and she didn’t like it. “But I’m probably not going to win no matter what.” She shrugged, she couldn’t see anyone sponsoring some hick girl from the backwards part of 10. “I don’t think that with this bunch, suggesting the idea is good, they’d probably just turn us into the Careers while they kiss their ass.” Kobe pursed his lips as he poked at his bread crumbs. Merryweather brought up a lot of salient points. He had thought the Careers were a bit too friendly, and his parents' reaction to his reaping made him wonder what would really happen, if she returned to District 10 a victor. Would the Peacekeepers make her life difficult, or would Mayor Bryant consider her son's death a worthy sacrifice to her overlords in the Capitol? He picked up a piece of shredded bread, placed it between his lips, and chewed thoughtfully. His eventual gem of wisdom? "People suck." Merryweather smiled and took a bite of bread. “Right?” she asked. It was true, they were there in the Hunger Games, people really did suck. “It’s weird thinking about how it must be normal back at home, people going to school, doing everyday stuff…” "And it'll be the same after we're dead." Kobe reached for a jar and spooned a dollop of jam onto the edge of his plate. With the tip of his butter knife, he drew the red jelly out, making swirling patterns on the white china. "Maybe some people will miss you, but nobody's going to care when I'm gone." “Your mom’ll miss you,” Merryweather said although she wasn’t sure how true that was. Mom’s missed people, even the mayor, right? She looked at him. “Don’t you have friends back home?” Kobe poked one of the biscuit crumbs into the red jam, making a smear on the plate. Maybe his mother would miss him, maybe his father, and his sister and brother. As far as Kobe was concerned, they would be obligated to mourn him, as family. "No. Nobody liked me." “C’mon someone likes you,” Merryweather said. Even she had friends and she wasn’t exactly likeable. But maybe it was different on the ranch where they had to get along to get the work done even if they didn’t really like each other. "Yeah, right," Kobe muttered bitterly. "What do I have in common with all the other kids in the district? We don't have anything to talk about." He ate the jam-stained biscuit crumb. Strawberry. Nice. "You're in my class in school. You know I always ate by myself at lunch," he added. He didn't mention that the meals he packed were always more substantial and flavorful than other students'. Sitting with other people meant pressure to share, and Kobe had never been great at sharing. “Yeah well personally it’s because I thought you thought you were better than everyone,” Merryweather told him, not bothering to hide the truth. Now was not the time or place to mince words or be polite to be polite. Besides, he had been kind of a shit before the pair of them had gotten Reaped and if she were honest, well, she still thought he was kind of a shit, but so was she. And they were each other’s best chances at not dying straight off. “I don’t know, I figured everyone has friends, you know?” "Not everyone." Kobe scowled and pushed his plate away. Merryweather wasn't entirely wrong. Kobe had thought that perhaps his poorer peers deserved what they got, but he had quickly come to realize that life simply wasn't fair for anybody and people were all assholes. “Well I think you’re a shit but you’re the closest thing to a friend I’ve got here,” Merryweather said. She shrugged. Maybe Kobe was a shithead but at least he had one friend before at least one of them died? "Well, thanks," Kobe said, sounding a bit less whiny than usual. He didn't want to show just how much it meant to him that Merryweather would say that. "Same to you." |