Cinna (
setfires) wrote in
string_theory2013-02-19 03:09 pm
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Cinna and Katniss. Mockingjay AU. Post-war. [Closed]
He doesn't feel like a man anymore. Something deep inside of him is broken. He doesn't even really remember how that happened. When he tries to think back to the moment when Cinna ceased to be he only comes up with a vague haze and memories of intense pain. There had been questions, so many questions. They hadn't even cut out his tongue because they had been so desperate for answers. His answers. He didn't have any more to give them and he had thought they would let him die.
Instead he's here, staring blankly at what he suspects is carpet. It's soft, plush and a deep, deep green. The color distracts him for a moment, the way that colors used to, only now it doesn't bring with it images of cloth and shape.
He's standing, he knows that. These are different people than the ones he was with a month ago, days ago, seconds ago? Time is so hard to keep track of now. This is a different room than the cell that he had been kept in. There are colors here. Something big has happened, but he can't remember what.
His arms are folded close to his chest as he instinctively protects his hands. They had targeted them so much that his fingers are twisted into inhuman, monstrous shapes. Broken, re-broken, broken again, they had healed incorrectly and now constantly hurt as the bones were forced into shapes that made them impossible to use.
It was supposed to stop him from creating anything ever again, but what had they been afraid of? He couldn't even think properly anymore, what creation would come to his mind when it was surrounded by fog.
He doesn't know that he's in Snow's home. That people who brought him here are from District 13. That they're purposely reuniting him with the one person left in this world he cares about in an effort to give her something to do. Something that will get her out of her slump but won't involve ruining Coin's plans.
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She looked up then, finally, too curious not to. She had seen him....and none of the others...
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The corner of her lip twitched up, but to call it a smile would be far too generous.
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It was like a little spark of hope, and she didn't know if she could keep it lit.
" It's more than a lot of people have."
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"You're not alone."
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She wished she could say more, could elaborate on what she meant.
But she was too tired, her brain was too twisted up.
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"It was beautiful. Brilliant."
She felt a pang of guilt as she realized she had no idea where it was anymore. If it even was anymore.
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"We can..." Fix things? This couldn't be fixed. Nothing could be fixed. She trailed off there, staring at their hands.
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"We'll find a way."
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Calling it a smile would be a bit much. But it was the closest thing she'd had in a long time.
"Betting isn't allowed."
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Instead she just pressed her lips together, shaking her head. "Sorry."