like teaching monkeys to dance {Kousei} - blitz!

[Meghan]

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One quiet morning, I kept to myself in serene reflection. It was early, and I had skipped breakfast to spend some time in meditation. My mind curiously explored its every mistake so far. Every wrong glance and each misplaced word to the wrong person. Would that be enough to cost me my life?

"Probably not." I have become the misty figure among hills of darkness, I am the haunting. Alone and gallant, I stand, a forgotten statue among the living and breathing. Waiting.

My sword proves faithful as I draw it slowly from its holster. It weighs evenly on my fingers, and tastes cool on my tongue. A bemused smirk passes my lips and I dip my hands in tar, rubbing the blade with the black substance. Restrained actions complete the process. Strike a match. Hold a flame. Blow on the metal. Light the baby up.

I become a dance of red-and-orange, finally belonging to this contemporary world. I no longer feel distant, as if this crack in the flow of time was my centerpiece, the purpose for my existence. I never felt more alive than I felt with flame.

I destroyed dummy and equipment alike, allowing no hesitation in my eradication of the center. My sword came down to decapitate my final victim, a little boy who stood there and stared. Closer and closer it came until reality punched me in the face and I pulled back my sword.

It fell without grace at the boys feet, and its flame quickly snuffed out. My finale had been stolen, all for the sake of the living.

I began to scream, and launched at the boy, knocking him to the ground.

"Why the hell were you standing there, you little twerp?" I snarled, grabbing a fist full of his hair within one of my hands. "Why don't you watch where you're standing next time? You could've gotten yourself killed before the arena and put my neck on the line. Would've thought that was real funny, wouldn't ya? Gettin' the big, tough career in trouble, huhhh? Would've liked that, would ya? Do you have no decency?" I spit violently, just past his head, just enough to threaten him.

I give him one, final shove to the ground, then stood up and grabbed my sword. "Ahh, baby. It's okay. He didn't mean to hurt you, did he?" Fuck these guys. This is why I didn't talk to them. They couldn't even tell me their own names, let alone have enough common sense to stay away from the girl practicing her swordplay.

I began to stomp away from the scene, my blade still cradled in my arms.

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Word Count: 440

Thanks to Onyx for help with the header and dreams for fixing the table!

[kousei ♚]

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Wow, just wow, the movements are so perfect, the flames dance across the blade unpredictably but it's as if it's in perfect unison. A combination of red and orange flashes before my eyes as it licks the air, the oxygen that keeps of burning and burning on and on and on, none stop. She acts so calmly around the flames, as if she's not scared of roasting herself to death, honestly it's pretty scary and dangerous to set your weapon on fire, but that's only what I'm guessing from the sixty-fourth Hunger Games, last year. When Drace Vandel caused a fire explosion that ripped his arm to shreds and burned every single tribute in the arena. I remember clamping my mouth in horror when I saw it, the evil of fire, the pain fire inflicted to the tributes. It cost Drace his arm and later died due to not having an arm, killed all because he played with fire.

Just like this girl is.

I remember her from watching her reaping tape. Beatrice Birch, from District two. I'm guessing she's a career being from District two, I'm also guessing this by how skillfully and expertly she wields the flame bearing weapon, as if it's no problem at all. Honestly though I would think more tributes would be put off using lots of fire and tar after what happened with it last year, one girl was set on fire and another boy lost his arm! All because people thought fire could win them fights, and now I'm starting to think it probably can. With the way she's using it, she seems invincible using it. Maybe I'll be the one she burns to death. I shake those unpleasant thoughts out my head, no I can't be thinking of my death.

And then she brings the sword around and I scream out, I think she's going to behead me, kill me before the bloodbath even starts. Luckily for me she stops, she stops just in time and drops her blade, I am relieved but I quickly drop that emotion when she changes from a look of surprise to a look of rage. Before I can even react she launches at me and I'm on the floor before I even have time to yell 'Stop!'

She then practically explodes on me. "Why don't you watch where you're standing next time? You could've gotten yourself killed before the arena and put my neck on the line. Would've thought that was real funny, wouldn't ya? Gettin' the big, tough career in trouble, huhhh? Would've liked that, would ya? Do you have no decency?" I am stuttering and resisting the uncontrollable urge to cry as she spits and grabs my hair. For a second I think I'm going to die before I've even stepped foot into the arena but she stops her rage. Before she can do anything I stutter my next words out.

"N-no, I-I was just looking and w-wondering how you set your sword on fire and, and," I pause to start sniffling as I desperately try to explain myself. "I-I was just looking a-and I thought it looked r-really cool. I-I'm sorry" I say as I rub my head, lucky she didn't cause me to fracture any bones. Why am I apologizing? I have nothing to be apologizing for, she's attacked me and she nearly killed me, shouldn't she be apologizing to me?


WC:564

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[Meghan]

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I'm halfway across the training center when the boy speaks, my thoughts already consumed by the mistakes I must have made. His voice is dulcet compared to the usual barking tones of the rest of the company in this concrete building, and it surprises me enough to pause from my temporary self-illusion.

"What did you say?" I whisper, my brow folded in its permanent crease of disgruntlement. They are always dissatisfied with the way we lived our lives, and especially with the way we performed. This boy was merely curious, merely impressed upon the grandeur in which we supposedly possessed and illuminated consequent to the rest of the world. I did not see it, but they did.

I suppose a little explanation never hurt anyone, and I did nearly kill the poor bastard. It was his own fault, sure, but it was the least I could do.

I deviate from my forward course to face the scruff of a boy. "Fine. Just this time. After this, you will not speak to me. You will not eat with me. You will not mention this to me or anyone ever again. This stays here, okay?"

I wonder about offering a hand for an official agreement. Would that be the polite thing to do? My right limb twitches for a moment, but then I pull it back just as quickly as the thought crosses logic. No, he was just as untrustworthy as he was before. Instead I nod my head in agreement.

"Have you ever worked with flame before?"

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Word Count: 254

Thanks to Onyx for help with the header and dreams for fixing the table!