I'm Not The One \\ [Python]

[Sunrise Rainier D2 // [Thundy]]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,500,true][bg=000000] Just how thick is your skin? Just how sharp are your teeth?

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The Capitol was everything she dreamed it would be.

Glimpses from the train allowed her an image of a sunny, sparkling metropolis set in a valley, with skyscrapers reaching to conquer the height of the giant mountains that overlooked the city like Gods themselves. And at the station, the people smiled their jubilant smiles, adorned in bright colors and frills and hats bejeweled with rubies and diamonds. The buildings beyond gleamed in the afternoon sun, and by the time the train stopped and the whole crew shuffled into the open air, Yaa was nearly drooling.

It almost made up for the fact that she was inevitably going to die.

Distracted as she was, that thought would creep up on her at random times, seizing her mind with panic for a sheer second or two before she pushed it away, like a child stuffing the dirty laundry under the bed to deal with later. At some point it would all pile up and explode over the bedroom floor, but until that point arrived she would settle her thoughts elsewhere.

Even through training the next day, she found that she was capable of forgetting. If she looked away from the Careers and their brutal force and focused on herself, on the tasks at hand, the bad thoughts would drift away and she could center herself around absolutely nothing.

But distraction would only protect her for so long.

It was when she approached the throwing knife station that things went wrong. Knives were laid out like trophies, sharp and shiny and delicate, as if they had long ago been used for killing and nobody had touched them in years, except to clean them and pet them and occasionally feed them with the blood they so longed for.

It scared her how much she wanted to try them out.

The man working at the station eyed her quietly, so she he gingerly picked up a knife. ”So how the hell do I do this?” she asked, and he immediately plucked it out of her hands as if she might hurt herself with it. He began to ramble on about technique, and at the same time she got the feeling that somebody was observing her. Turning, she saw a dark-haired, green-eyed girl whose name she didn't know. The new presence sent that all-too-familiar rush of panic flying through her, for she had been operating under the assumption that she might learn to throw knives quietly and without anyone there to watch her as she failed.

”What?” she asked blankly, holding her chin up like an animal attempting to make itself look bigger to ward off a predator.

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ooc: I wasn't sure if you wanted throwing knives or regular knives so I can edit it if I guessed wrong.

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[Python]

Playing well with others was not her forte; when faced with twenty-three adolescents all scattered about one room she was uncertain of how to react or whether she should attempt to communicate with her fellow tributes. It was a game for glory, after all, and this was her competition, but at the same time allies and “friends” were of significant import. She was still caught in an internal debate about whether she should recruit allies or ride solo

(I’ve been training by myself for years; why should now be any different? Because this is my life we’re talking about, not merely my reputation or my pride) In the meantime she was familiarizing herself with new knowledge and polishing old techniques until she was positive she could convey her skills into the arena and channel them toward the hearts of her enemies. She was intent on learning the name of every opponent and studying each individual from the shadows to gather details such as possible strengths and weaknesses. That was the first step; afterward, she would plan her mission accordingly. Perhaps it wouldn’t be as difficult as she initially imagined, or maybe it will be much, much worse.

Her current person of interest was the district seven tribute Yaa Valarro, the girl with a strange name to suit a uniquely alluring appearance. She was currently immersed in the art of knife-tossing - or at least trying to be, hence the trainer evidently attempting to teach her how to use one without slicing her fingers open. When Locust stepped out of her hiding place and wandered closer to her target, the girl detected her presence and immediately whirled to face her. Normally Locust was eerily silent when she prowled, but it seemed she was immune to her stealth. She would have to make a mental note of that for later.

”What?” It was a typical question, though typical usually meant natural. How else was someone supposed to address a suspicious onlooker like Locust? ”I was only observing,” she replied with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders, then approached the display of knives and snatched one of the smaller ones for nimbler fingers, eyeing it with mild interest before dragging her gaze back to Yaa’s. The trainer had apparently noticed this new presence and paused in the midst of his lesson to stare at the two of them. Locust chose to ignore him.

”Have you ever used a knife, Yaa?” She twirled the silver in her hands and caught the blade between her finger tips, extending her arm to offer her the handle. ”You may want to consider learning how to wield a knife before you learn how to throw one.” She strived to sound sincere rather than condescending, though there was always debate about whether or not she was capable of sincerity. Her goal was to strike casual conversation, not to boil the blood of her anxious enemies (there would be more time for that in the arena). She might even learn something new about this tribute that she would’ve never considered before - something that she might be able to use to her advantage in the battlefield.[/justify][/blockquote][/size]

[Sunrise Rainier D2 // [Thundy]]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=width,500,true][bg=000000] Start it out Like any other day

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Well goody, somebody had already taken the time to remember her name. She would have probably spent a while fooling herself into thinking that her chaotic appearance at the reaping had made some sort of impression, but she got the feeling that this girl - what was her name even? - was the kind of person to catalog her opponents. To do what, Yaa had no clue. She couldn't really pretend to know how the minds of Careers worked, but she assumed it had to be all about victory and glory and attention, and nobody could forget the mindless murder part of the whole schtick. Impressive as they were with their stabbing and whatnot, she found it difficult to see them as real, flesh-and-blood humans. They seemed more like machines, tuned up and well-oiled to go forth and claim victory only to spend the rest of their lives whining over the fact that oh gosh, they killed, like, six innocent people.

Career or not, the girl was captivating. From the way she twirled the knife around her fingers to the way her face looked when she spoke, Yaa couldn't will herself to move to another station. Instead she laughed, thinking back to her life in District Seven. "Only to carve up the side of a building," she said, remembering the day she etched three big words into the side of her parents' shop. They pretended from that point on that some random hoodlum had left the message, but they knew the truth. That was the name of the game back in her quaint little home in District Seven: if something goes wrong, for the love of God, act civilized in public and keep up appearances.

Which, to be fair, Yaa had never been good at. She could only hold her chin up and act like she knew what she was doing, but this girl in front of her had the whole act perfected. She knew how to move just right, how to speak with a degree of sincerity, and she looked so completely and utterly distracting that it was easy to overlook the knife twirling around in her fingers. All of a sudden, Yaa remembered that little slip of paper she dropped into the wish jar at lunch.

The trainer had stopped talking entirely at that point, so Yaa nudged him aside to get closer to the girl. If anything, the Career probably knew more about knives than the trainer did, and she had to be about eleven times nicer to look at.

Smiling slightly, she tugged the stolen knife out of the trainer's hands and held it out to the girl handle-first. "So show me then," she said. "You look.." she continued, licking her lips and staring the girl up and down, "like you know what you're doing."

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[Python]

The change in body language would be subtle to the untrained eye, but Locust was quick to take notice. The way Yaa was staring at her as if through a new lens of truth speckled in awe - she knew that look,

and it’s been a long time since somebody looked at me like that. She tilted her head, intrigued by this revelation of Yaa’s interest. She faintly wondered if returning these interests would be worth jumping on the bandwagon for. Her fellow tributes were doomed and desperate adolescents, knowing that they would step through death’s door in a matter of weeks, and only an ignorant fool would fail to notice the relationships blooming and the romance stirring behind closed bedroom doors. Now was the time for training, forming alliances, and fulfilling physical wishes and fantasies before they were starved and carved to the bone in the arena. It was only human instinct to seek pleasure before the pain, and right now the idea of indulging herself before she was deprived of her current luxury sounded magnificent.

Yaa was even pleasant to look at, now that she thought of it. She wouldn’t mind losing herself to an afternoon (or evening) of irresponsible distraction with her. ”Gladly,” she replied, accepting the offered knife. She motioned the trainer to clear her path as she eyed her target and readied both knives - her own and Yaa’s - in both hands. Three seconds and two thumps later the weapons were protruding from a dummy’s chest, and she estimated the tribute would die within moments of the first blade having pierced the chambers of the heart. It was the simplicity of the strokes that tugged the corners of her lips into a smile, rather than the raw sense of pride some might believe she possessed. Of course she would think herself impressive in some aspects; she was a career, after all, and capable of killing with less than three strikes if her target was sluggish enough. Why not bask in the glory of it?

”Now,” she began, plucking another knife from the rack. ”I will show you how to hold one properly.” She gently took a hold of Yaa’s dominant hand and - taking her sweet time during the process - slipped the blade into it and adjusted her fingers accordingly. When she was finished, she let one hand linger by the edges of Yaa’s wrist. ”Our trainer here can teach you the rest. Unless..” Her fingers brushed skin, and she paid no real mind to the actual trainer, who had practically vanished in her mind despite her mentioning of him. ”..you want to learn my own personal techniques.” She smiled and left out no traces of her mischievous intentions. ”There is much I can teach you.”[/justify][/blockquote]