The weather is beginning to cool in District Twelve. Katniss is thinking about clothes - not the things Cinna dressed her in in the Capitol, but real clothes with thick heavy fabric that will keep her, her sister, and her mother warm this winter. This is the first year that they can afford all new things if they want. They won't have to trade
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"Hey."
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And it's not exactly her biggest concern right now.
"Hello," she says, short and guarded.
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". . . here?" she settles on.
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"Wherever you were, you're not there anymore. You're someplace else.
"A bar. At the end of time." Yeah, he still doesn't really believe it, either.
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"Of course," she says. "A bar at the end of time. Why didn't I think of that?"
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. . . it reminds her of the hallucinations from the trackerjacker venom, but there's something horribly immediate about it that those hallucinations lacked. Something indefinable that she cannot deny.
When she speaks again, after a long moment, her voice is devoid of sarcasm.
"Okay," she says, a bit faint in spite of herself. "A bar at the end of time."
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"Magic," she echoes. Her tone is more distracted than anything as she composes herself.
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"No."
In the Capitol, at least, there's technology so advanced she would have thought it magic if she'd seen it as a child. But, end of time or no, there's really any such thing.
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"I'm Cyborg." He offers his hand.
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"Katniss Everdeen," she says, realizing belatedly that if he's from the Capitol, he'll know that. Of course he'll know that. She and Peeta just won the Games a month ago, and so wildly popular were they that for the first time ever, there were two victors instead of one.
Maybe some people from the Capitol are actually capable of being polite.
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Gale calls her Catnip, but he's the only one who's allowed to do that.
"It's nice to meet you, too," she adds, because he is being helpful. She should be polite.
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