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[ And so off they go. Hours of fruitless searching later.... ]

Why would you even throw the axe then? They're almost within reach anyway, you could just chop them!

[ Kate makes a noise of disgust, but amused disgust, because critiquing terrible horror movies is apparently a thing she really enjoys. She's sprawled out across from the rigged-up screen in her room, good posture abandoned in favor of lounging back into her hoarded pillows. It's gotten still worse as she's tipped into Johanna as the movie's gone on. It was unintentional at first but then it turned out to be kind of nice, the casual warmth and contact of sitting so close together, so she just went with it, letting her weight tilt and press them lightly together.

By now she's let herself slide down so low that she's barely propped up enough to see the screen at all, and when she yawns her temple leans against shoulder. Fun new game: how long can she leave it there? If she were a betting woman her money'd be on Johanna objecting before she can fall asleep. ]

[The search was stupid. The movie? Stupider. But here Johanna is, slumped on Kate's bed, her chin practically resting on her chest. Kate's cheek is somewhere in the same region. It's a strange and warm contact. It shouldn't be. She's seen just about every inch of Kate's skin, but this is different. More intimate, somehow.

What a stupid thought, Johanna thinks, and rolls her eyes at herself.]

Because they're idiots. They're not even good at throwing axes. Did you see that? They threw them like they were-- tree branches, or something. Like he's going to trip on them.

[The killer does not trip on them. Onscreen, the teenagers all scream, and Johanna rolls her eyes.]

Idiots.

[And while Johanna can put up with this for a little while, she's now fast approaching maximum toleration. She'll have to shrug free, if only to reset. Kate gets five seconds more, to move her head on her own. Four seconds. Three...]

Going for the ankles is so stupid. If you have to throw them badly at least aim for center of mass. Oh look a dark hall, there couldn't possibly be anything waiting at the end like there was the last six times.

[ Kate does not move her head in time, but she's also easily dislodged by Johanna's shrug. She lets her head loll back the other way like she's barely noticed the shift, though really it's mildly disappointing, if not surprising. That sort of intimacy might be more for her and Johanna but mostly what she's thinking of is Teddy's arm around her shoulders in the booth at breakfast or Billy's feet in her lap while they watch a movie. Leaning into Noh so they can share headphones, him tapping out the rhythm on her knee.

She lets Johanna have her space back, tipping onto her side and curling up a little further, arm beneath her head keeping the screen just in view. ]

Total idiots.

Unless you're cutting off his feet at the ankles. That's how I'd have started.

[Which she says with a certain pride and relish. The thought is a deeply satisfying one, and a threat that she'd dearly like to make good on. Maybe on their disappearing pirate, if they ever track him down. Definitely on someone responsible for this whole bullshit mess.

The comfortable sharing of space is not something that Johanna is good at. Add that to the list. She's pretty much forgotten how, and she never really liked hugs to begin with. The easy duck in for a peck on the cheek, a hand on her shoulder, on her arm--on the small of her back, guiding her around--it's all got connotations so negative it makes her skin crawl. And then there was the torture. No set-up for success in casual intimacy.

And Kate doesn't bitch when she's dislodged--which is good. It means Johanna is quicker to get to that point of reset, as the prickling of her skin dies down to a feeling that's next to nothing.]

They're getting farther than the last six times. [Not that that's saying much; she conveys that by her tone. Idly, she reaches out to trap a strand of Kate's hair, and starts to twine it around her finger, her eyes still fixed on the screen.] Why didn't they take the axes with them if they were going to run? God, it's painful to watch people this stupid. Do people actually enjoy these movies?

Yeah, but you have aim. [ And these poor stupid teenagers have whatever the opposite of aim is. Kate glances at Johanna's hand but doesn't mind the idle toying with her hair. She's got so much of it, might as well be good for something. ]

Since they're still making them however far in the future this is, yes, people enjoy them. I like them sometimes as unintentional comedies. And teenagers like them because being scared's an excuse to hold hands with the person next to you. [ She makes a very fake noise of surprise and clutches at Johanna's arm in demonstration. ] Katrina Harrison got all four of her boyfriends in middle school that way.

[ She lets go of Johanna's arm, but slides a hand around her side instead, palm flat across her stomach, fingers curling to ruffle at the hem of her shirt like they might just slip under. ]

[Well. She does have aim, and she acknowledges the compliment (because it is a compliment) with a self-satisfied little smirk.]

Are you kidding? [So unimpressed with Katrina Harrison, but she doesn't actually shake off Kate's grip right away--just gives it a Look, like, really.] Just from grabbing their arms? She's got a really sexy grip, or those boyfriends were real morons.

[And so was Katrina. The weight of Kate's hand is new, but she permits it--with the mental caveat of for now, like always. Some people touch for the sake of touching, but Johanna, of course, is not one of them. But she can put up with it without any nasty questions (what the hell are you doing, or something very similar).]

Did you get any boys that way?

Middle school. [ Kate says it dryly, like that explains everything. And in her world it does, but maybe not so much in Johanna's. Sometimes she forgets to be unsure about the little things like that. ] Like twelve year olds, hand holding was a big deal. And yes, mostly morons.

[ Nearly everyone is more tactile than Johanna but Kate's never been particularly handsy or affectionate. But it's been a pretty good day and she's listing toward dozy and whatever, why not if it's nice. Her thumb catches at thin cotton again, bunches it up and she slips her hand under, fingers just a little cool. Skin on skin makes it foreplay, right? ]

No. Not my style.

[Middle school means absolutely nothing to Johanna. Which isn't surprisingly, really. There's a lot that Panem doesn't have, and usually, she just carries right over the differences, ignores them outright, and it always comes out fine. There's no use in looking stupid, except by calculated choices.

The tickle and cool press of Kate's fingertips makes the corner of Johanna's mouth twitch, an infinitesimal sign of enjoyment. The larger tell is that she doesn't shove Kate's hand away.]

I didn't think so. So how did you get the boys. In middle school.

[--in a very sarcastic rendition of Kate's voice, but also maybe a little telling: no Panemian middle schools. So what.]

[ Kate's turn to snort at that impression of her, and she dips a finger into Johanna's navel, a tickling rebuke. ]

I didn't have to do anything. I was pretty and popular, they came to me. [ She says it in her snobbiest voice, almost an impression of herself. Her hand smooths across Johanna's abdomen again, a quelling sort of caress as she shrugs a little. ]

Danny Trello kissed me backstage after our orchestra concert when I was twelve. I shoved him and he tripped over his tuba and everybody laughed. Nobody dared try again for a while until Brad Harper got me for Seven Minutes in Heaven at a birthday party.

[Her stomach caves a little at the press of Kate's finger. Being tickled is a weird and foreign feeling, and her mouth twists a little--but she doesn't punch Kate, as a reflex, and she doesn't pull away. It helps that Kate's given such a good answer.]

Oh my God. Good.

[Who doesn't like a little violence with their kisses, right? Johanna is obvious in her support.]

More people should get shoved during their first kiss. Then they'd be faster at figuring out how to be decent kissers. [And here's yet another thing she doesn't know, a colloquialism that Kate drops like it's commonplace. Seven Minutes in Heaven. For her, it probably is. For Panem, not so much. And this is actually a greater sign of Johanna's relatively good mood, because she asks:] What the hell is Seven Minutes in Heaven?

[Relatively good mood, remember. Still not sweet.]

It's a game. Very popular at middle school parties.

[ Kate knew the chance of Johanna understanding that reference was slim to none, she just wanted to gauge the level of interest before explaining, trying not to put too much strain on this fragile relatively-good-ness by boring her. Actually being asked gets a quick flash of a grin, out of sight, not quite against Johanna's shoulder. ]

Everybody sits in a circle and you spin a bottle and whoever it points at, you get locked in a closet with them for seven minutes. You're supposed to make out but mostly it's just awkward and cramped and the people on the other side of the door tease you.

[There's that middle school again, but she's starting to get it.]

That sounds-- [wait for it] --stupid. Do you get to break the bottle over their head if you don't want to make out with them?

And why is there a bottle anyways.

[and thank god she doesn't see or notice any hint of smiling or else this coziness would quickly come to an end. now explain these things to her please answer for modern society]

No, it's definitely stupid. It's a kids' game. [ Kate shrugs, and she's near enough for the motion to ruffle fabric on fabric. Her hand drifts up across Johanna's ribs and back in a slow, lazy circuit. ]

If you don't want to make out with them you can just refuse to go in the closet and get made fun of even more. Or go in the closet and just stomp on their foot if they try anything, or whatever. But I had kind of a crush on Brad Harper so I didn't mind. The bottle's just tradition, I guess. [ See, not modern society's fault. Old timey society's to blame. ]

How about just making out, if you want to.

[Like, duh, has no one thought of this. The sharpness in her tone is sort of exaggerated, and that's given away by the fact that she's still not pulled away from Kate, or the lazy gentle drag and push of her hand. Whatever, it's not worth it.]

Tell me about Brad Harper.

No way, that's not cool. What if you let him know you like him and he doesn't like you back? Then you're a joke. And I was nervous. I was just a kid.

[ Kate finally tips near enough for Johanna to feel the warmth of her stretched out almost against her back, and nuzzles at the nape of her neck. Before it gets too cuddly there's a press of her lips, too, all of it like her hand: gentle and lazy but not completely lacking in intent. ]

Brad was two years older than me. He was tall, and he played-- sports [ that she's not going to bother naming and explaining ] and was really cute. Broad shoulders and blue eyes. He was a terrible kisser but I didn't really know, I thought maybe I'd just imagined it wrong. We went out for a whole two weeks.

Don't let people make you a joke.

[Again, like: duh. So much of this is probably lost in translation, a disconnect between Kate's childhood and her own. Kissing games are pretty universal, even if they seem about a hundred years ago, a dim memory that she's put away with so many others.

It's easier, then, to just listen to Kate. Tall and blonde and blue-eyed, and a bad kisser. She smirks a little.]

And then what happened?

Kid. [ Kate repeats it like a mantra, presses it into the top of Johanna's shoulder. ] Middle school girls are vicious, and I didn't own an axe. [ The joke comes with a teasing press of her teeth through t-shirt sleeve. ]

Then I realized that Brad was also about as dumb as a box of rocks and half as interesting. So I told him I was too busy for a boyfriend. I mean I was, it was sort of true, but mostly it was that I was bored to tears and afraid he was going to somehow dislocate my tongue.

[No axe and young age are both theoretically explanations that should suffice--but that doesn't stop Johanna from rolling her eyes, hugely, even unseen.

The treatment of poor Brad gets her to laugh, pleased, so young Kate is forgiven for her lack of axes.]

God, you poor thing. At least you let him down easy. How did he take it?

He was very confused. I don't think a girl had ever not been interested in him before. He didn't really understand what was happening.

[ Brad must have been a pretty nice guy despite his incredible dumbness because Kate sounds a little bit pitying on top of amused. ]

He spent a couple days acting like we were still dating and then a week printing out bad song lyrics and putting them in my locker like that would win me back somehow, and then he started dating Mandy Moncrieff. I think they're still together. They might be engaged actually.

[Boys. Johanna rolls her eyes again, hugely. Her lack of connection with Brad Harper makes it easy for her to be disgusted with his stupidity.]

You're a real heartbreaker.

[But if anything, she sounds quite pleased about that. Kate isn't deserving of her scorn in this situation.]

No one's putting bad lyrics in your locker here, are they? I mean, you've been here for awhile. You've had plenty of chances to break some more.

[ Kate laughs. It's not the first time someone's said something like that about her, but it is the first time it's been said approvingly. And anything that comes so near to a genuine compliment from Johanna is to be filed away and treasured, obviously. ]

No, none here. The guy I hooked up with on and off for a couple months vanished at a jump before we got to the inevitable break up, which was good since listening to him fumble through it was going to be painful.

[ Not an entirely fair assessment of Aidan but that's another of the perks of him going home: nobody around to call her on being unfair. She props her head up just a little on a folded elbow, mouth tugged into a smile Johanna can hear in her voice. ]

He got so flustered sometimes. You should've seen his face this one time when I suggested he go down on me. Like he'd never heard anybody actually say it before.

[Johanna laughs, and it's mean--but of course it is. She's not even pretending to watch the shitty movie now. Instead, she's laying with her head on Kate's pillow, with her eyes shut and her grin sprawled across her face, very amused at the misfortune of others. Although in this case, the others is only partially Kate, and really only a very little bit Kate at that.]

God, you know how to pick them. But he had done it before, right? Don't tell me he hadn't--and don't tell me he was just too polite--

[The twist of her voice suggests just where politeness can get shoved.]

Hey, anything you say about my taste just comes back on you, remember. [ Not that Kate's offended in the slightest by that little dig, any hurt in her tone very clearly a joke. She's not watching the movie either, leaving the hapless teens to their on-screen fate. She's leaned almost against Johanna's side, one arm still draped around her, hand settled on her ribs for the moment. ]

But no, god, no, he definitely had before. With me, even. He was perfectly good at it, he was just totally taken aback when I suggested it in actual words, out loud. It was almost kind of cute, but, you know. A pretty good sign it wasn't going to work out.

[Johanna just snorts, dismissively, at that chiding. That is to say: obviously she was the exception to her cutting assessment, just like she's always the exception.]

Please. I'm breaking your run of bad luck.

[And you better be grateful for it. The longer they lay in this position, all pushed and draped together, the more used to it Johanna gets. Soon she'll catch herself, and get away. For now, it's all right (more or less); she can put up with it.]

And that's not cute. Did he want it to always be his idea or something? Like a surprise, every time? [Her voice gets all coo-y and purry and pouty, a tone which dissolves instantly with her next pearl of wisdom:] Men are so dumb.

[ Kate's chuckle is definitely not at the idea of Johanna breaking her run of bad luck. Not at all. (She's definitely breaking her run of something.) It's vaguely tempting to roll in closer, maybe hook a leg over Johanna's nearest, but she's comfortable as she is and inertia saves her from pushing her luck for the moment. ]

No, I don't think that was it. I think I just caught him off-guard. It was sort of-- we were having kind of a serious conversation and he'd just woken up from being coma'd and I'd just gotten back from the hallway nightmare and it was kind of conversational whiplash. [ But that's more information than she suspects Johanna wanted, so she adds, not insincerely, ] And men are so dumb.

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all right all right all right all right

your tags keep getting older but mine stay the saaaame aaaage

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