{Nøthing as it Seems}{Wolfea}

Clothes soaked completely through, Kale finally mustered the will to do something remotely productive--or, at the very least, wander. People were often more interesting before you got to know them, and there were still a few strangers left on the streets--the ones like her, who were beyond caring about the weather, who weren't bothered by the chilly winter rains.

Kale--storyteller as she was--loved to make up things about the people she'd never met. Most of the time, it cheered her up to create an interesting back story about the people she passed on the streets. She would name them, give them a past, and decide their destination. Sometimes she would even plot out the entirety of their lives, from birth to death, if the person was interesting enough.

Passing a gaunt man in his early thirties, Kale began her work. Leed Newson, the eldest of four, she started in her head, but only he and his youngest sister still live. Their parents and middle siblings--twin brothers--were killed by diphtheria when he was nineteen, leaving him to care for his sister.

Maybe it was impolite to fabricate such a tragic story about a stranger, but such unfortunate events were so common in District 11 that it really wasn't a big deal. Still sad, but the effect was greatly lessened by the frequency of these things. Either way, Kale decided that Mr. Newson's story was not the mood-enhancer that she needed. She resolved to make the next several more uplifting, or at the very least more interesting

She carried on with her games for a good several blocks, passing merchants entangled in secret love affairs with peacekeepers, depressed siblings of tributes from years past, and rebel spies on dangerous reconnaissance missions. As she had when she was little, Kale liked the spies the best.

The imaginative Kale had just turned the corner onto another street, scanning the road for new subjects when she found the most interesting of the day. There in the middle of the street sat a girl about her age in obvious distress. At first, Kale thought this girl might have collapsed from hunger--ironically, it wasn't an uncommon occurrence in the agriculture district--but it did not seem to be the case.

Intrigued as she was, Kale could not bring herself to put a back story to this stranger. Even if she could, a pit in her stomach told her that it would more than likely pale in comparison to the real one. No one broke down like that without cause.

Though never a social initiator, she took it upon herself to see what the matter was. It was more out of intrigue than anything else--pessimistic though it was, Kale doubted that at this point, nothing any stranger could say or do would make a difference. And something of such apparent magnitude would not be given up to a stranger. So Kale had to stop being a stranger.

The trouble was, she was a bit awkward with people--especially people she didn't know--even in non-emergency situations. How could Kale possibly know what to say? She shuffled over to the girl with the strong suspicion that she would be completely ignored.

"Hi," she started gently, cheeks burning from shyness. How were you supposed address something like this? Kale tried her hand at asking the obvious. "Rough day, then?"

Under normal circumstances, Kale would be more than willing to go away. She'd made her effort to be a social person, which was something she never went out of her way to do. So why should she stay? There was no obligation to the girl on the ground, no debt that needed to be repaid. She wasn't wanted here, so Kale should leave.

But it was the Ground-Girl's last comment that prevented her from leaving. Kale took it as a challenge. "Oh, I'm well aware that I could leave." Her tone was more patronizing than she'd intended, but maybe it would serve its purpose. "But, well, I've got nothing better to do for the moment, and it looks to me like you could use some company."

It wasn't arrogant, how Kale had said it--or how she'd meant it--but didn't feel like something she's say. She almost never took the mightier-than-thou attitude, even with her little brother. So why had she just implied that the only reason she stuck around was because she was bored? That needed to be fixed.

"Besides, you haven't given me a good reason to leave yet. If anything, I've got another reason to not go away. If everyone else doesn't not go away...thing. Ugh." She'd managed to confuse herself. Making speeches had never been her strong suit. "What I mean to say is, don't you think maybe no one ever stays because you tell everyone to leave?"

Kale sighed, worn out from her botched paragraph. She hated how she could make words sound nice in her head, how she could put them in just the right order, but then her mouth would mess them all up. She knew what she was talking about, usually. But somewhere between her brain and her vocal cords, something got lost in translation. It was frustrating.


OOC- Sorry it took me so long to get back! -murmurs lame excuses about sports and the Games and forgetfulness- Also apologies for the sub-par level of this post... -more lame excuses involving muse-

It was a depressing speech that Ground-Girl had just given, but one Kale had made to herself over and over. Don't worry so much about other people, she'd say. Why live if you just have to die? But every time, Kale had managed to get herself out of that slump and go on as usual. Some times it was easier not to question things, not to think about things. If you always had your eyes on the future, then how could you possibly enjoy the present?

She voiced this opinion to the Ground-Girl. "Well that certainly is a depressing take on things." Kale gave a solemn nod before trying to lighten the mood. "As difficult as it can be to ignorant, in some aspects, ignorance is bliss, I find. Why worry about the inevitable? It never helps anything, and it even may mess some stuff up."

Ground-Girl was case and point to this. Kale was certain she had a reason and a right to be upset--she didn't question that--but look where all the preparing for the inevitable had gotten her: no where good. "Don't think," advised Kale, a bright note in her voice. "Makes life much easier. Trust me."

It was ironic, of course, for her to say so--she was the champion of over-analyzers, the king of deep thought. But a nudge to think more was clearly not what Ground-Girl needed at the moment. Maybe in due time. If Kale could knock the pessimism out of her. If the other girl would let her.


OOC- I feel like all of our posts include an OOC post about lateness... they can just be implied from now on, I think^^

Kale couldn't help grinning at the other girl's confused response. She knew that she didn't make a lot of sense most of the time. Her thought pattern was somewhat difficult to follow for other people. Her neuron synapses fired differently than other people's, or so it would seem. She didn't know if that was actually a possibility, but it sounded nice.

It was good that Ground-Girl had stood up, Kale decided, although Ground-Girl was no longer a suitable nickname. She opened her mouth to ask for Ground-Girl's actual name--and then stopped. Kale didn't make any mention of the other girl's hand, which stayed attached to her knife, and did not verbally note her shifty eyes--but she noticed them. Kale was hardly a threatening person, yet Ground-Girl seemed ill at ease.

And then she had an idea. Kale did not go out often. Her family rarely had the money for anything more than the basic staples. But she had been working hard. Saving a little bit to herself, at her father's insistence. And she'd meant to spend it on food for the family, or a new pair of boots for her littler brother--who had worn his soles thin--but her father had been adamant about her spending it on something that she wanted, not something that they needed. It was a meager sum, still, but it would probably be enough for a few drinks.

She didn't drink normally, but this seemed like the right occasion. The trick would be convincing the other girl, who clearly did not trust people. She probably didn't trust Kale enough to go anywhere with her, and Kale would be willing to put money on the other girl not trusting anyone else to serve her anything. It would be difficult, she decided. But she liked a challenge.

"Hey," she started, unsure of exactly how to phrase her suggestion--aside from carefully. "D'you... want to go somewhere else, maybe?" She paused, choosing her words very cautiously, trying to lay them in just the right order. "Go and not-think somewhere... somewhere that isn't the middle of a street?"

She raised her eyebrows and adorned her face with a small, hopeful smile. It would be fun, she'd decided, and it seemed like the other girl could stand to benefit from a few drinks.

Perfectly done, thought Kale, although she knew it was too early to celebrate just yet. She stuck her hands in her pockets, feeling for her few coins, the ones she kept on her person at all time. Just in case. She gripped one, then released it again, but kept her hands stuck in her pockets.

Kale raised her eyebrows in amusement at the question. Would she like to tell this girl where they were going? Yes, sure. But did she think Ground-Girl (she still had been unable to formulate a better temporary name) would like that information? "Not particularly." She grinned. Messing with people was just fun.

The Ground-Girl really did intrigue her, though. What has to happen for a person to become so suspicious, so untrusting? Especially someone her age. What made someone not feel comfortable without one hand on a knife? Kale almost didn't want to know. And she felt like she probably wouldn't find out, or, at least not for awhile. Something of such apparent magnitude was not the sort of thing people--much less people so wary of others--shared with people they'd just met, sober or no.

Slowly, carefully, Kale started down the street. She did not break eye contact with the other girl as she went, trying to silently pressure her to follow. Her slight smile never faltered. "Coming?"

Realizing that the other girl had started to follow her, she picked up the pace, from the previous collection of tentative steps to a slow walk. The fact that her plan had worked caused Kale felt a thrill of success, followed by a brief period of questioning. Why was it that she was trying so hard to get Ground-Girl to go somewhere with her, anyway? From what Kale could remember, she'd never seen the other girl before, and, for the most part, their conversation hadn't been too pleasant--in fact, it had been rather depressing.

That was it, though, wasn't it? That Ground-Girl needed it? She'd said herself that no one ever stayed. That in itself was a depressing prospect for Kale, who despised the mild form of loneliness that afflicted her from time to time. But coupled with Ground-Girl's apparent mistrust for people in general, Kale decided that the other girl needed a friend, or an acquaintance, at the very least.

"Of course I'm not giving you a choice," she informed the other girl, voice bright, wry grin still sitting on her face. There really was no way for her to force Ground-Girl out, which they both were probably aware of.

"And you're fine," she said, referring to the clothing remark. In fact, Kale hadn't even noticed what the other girl was wearing up until she'd pointed it out. Kale herself was hardly prim and proper at that moment--ratty old flannel paired with torn up jeans, hair and clothes completely soaked.

"This is District Eleven, after all. Hardly the classiest." No one had the time nor appetite--and certainly not the money--for fashion or propriety. It was too impractical to divulge any attention to clothes. As long as you weren't stark naked--and Kale had seen that, too, from time to time--you were acceptable. Too fancy and you were haughty, and a future victim of a mugging. Below that figurative line--a line which neither Kale nor her family were ever in danger of approaching--was safety from robbing, in the form of mild poverty.

"Not like it's District One or anything, now is it?" Kale wasn't sure why exactly she invoked the name of the luxury items District. Probably because the mere prospect of anyone living in the Capitol--the only place that, in Kale's mind, would rank above their lapdogs in terms of wealth--was so unfeasible.


OOC- "Not-Stabbed?" I like it^^