WHO: Cato and Tristan Moore WHAT: Random Meet-up (!dice) WHEN: Late Tuesday evening WHERE: The Observation Car (Car #15) STATUS: !dice, closed/ongoing
Cato couldn't sleep tonight. Usually, laying down beside Glimmer in the dark brought him closer to peace than he'd ever been, and he had no trouble finding sleep. He'd never had trouble sleeping, really. Careers were not given comfortable sleeping quarters - they were always told that they would be better off in the Games if they learned to sleep anywhere. So he'd learned to adapt, make the best of whatever situation he found himself in.
Which made his insomnia even stranger. Not wanting to disturb Glimmer, he'd risen and wandered the halls for a while, feeling angry and more than a little grumpy. He'd been on this train for...almost four months now, and he was growing goddamn tired of the things it threw at them. Tired of being cramped here, tired of dealing with all the assholes the train decided to bring on board. That dick from 12 was being a pain in his ass...and it seemed that whenever he tried to talk to someone, they ended up thinking he was some kind of psychotic asshole, or judging his world when they'd never even stepped foot on it. Fuck them. They didn't understand him, or Panem, or what it meant to be a career.
Of course, Maryanne leaving hadn't been good for him either. She was one of the few people on the train who'd actually seemed to like him - and other than Glimmer, those people were in very short supply. So he was also feeling shitty about that.
It was late when he finally reached the observation car, and the fields were nearly pitch black outside the windows, making for a very boring view. Still, he sat and put his feet on the table in front of him, staring at the deep blackness with an angry glare on his face directed at no one but the cows.