bad girls do it well -- nylon/sinead

[charade]

Can I count the ways in which I can brutalize this dummy?

Its chest is my punching bag, and I’ve already lost track of how many times I’ve hit it. Left hook. Right hook. Haymaker. Hard chop to the neck. Elbow drop on the top of the skull. Punch it in the throat, hit that pressure point hard! I end it with a loud cry and a spinning roundhouse kick to the side of the head.

If this were a real opponent, they’d be stunned right now, which would make it easier to do this. I vault forward into a handstand and wrap my legs around its neck, bringing it to the ground in a deft, swift motion. It hits the mat, and I twist my thighs, breaking its neck.

Now, if I manage to pull off that move set in the arena? I swear to gawd I’ll get sponsored something great. Maybe a gun. Or fireworks. Water break time though, and I just love that they’ve got flavored waters. Strawberry. Mango. Blackberry. It’s like having a juice but with half the sugars and none of the guilt!

I’ve got an audience too. Oh, I kept track her while I was working out. Never know when someone might try to shank you before the games start. There’s a couple tributes that look like degenerates. Not her though. She’s a lamb. Or a fawn. Or some other kind of baby animal we eat for dinner with mint sauce. Poor thing from twelve didn’t even know how to walk in heels.

Someone should set up one of those charity funds for the less fortunate.

Not me, obviously. But someone.

Still, it’s rude to stare If you’re not going to follow up on it. After wiping my face off with a towel and retying my ponytail, I head over towards the girl. It’s a pity, she’s got the right look for a career but none of the confidence.

I’d say she doesn’t make it past day two.

A tribute like Anarchy would eat her for breakfast in a one on one, and that’s not even bringing the mutts into the equation.

So I walk towards her, and I smile like the wolf in sheep’s clothing that I know I am. This is part of the game too, getting to know the other pieces on the board, even if you’re the only queen in a field of pawns.

“Hiiii, Sinnn right? You okay there hun? You’ve been awfully quiet for someone watching the show.”

I step up next to her and inspect my nails.

Didn’t chip a single one.

“Do they teach you anything useful back where you’re from or are you just going to wing it?”

I blink innocently, something I’m told is a great way to make people think that you’re invested in what they have to say.

[bailee]

Nylon Gingham was everything Sinead wanted to be, and then some.

Her combat style was flawless, she was the girl everyone had their eyes on, and she was beautiful to boot. Her confidence radiated in everything she did, from the way she spoke to the way she tackled that dummy without even a single hair being missplaced. 

Sinead would be lying if she said she wasn't starstruck.

Oh shit, I'm staring.

OH SHIT.

She's coming up to me. Good going Sinead, already making enemies and you haven't even been plopped into the arena yet.  Oh god, this is bad.

“Hiiii, Sinnn right? You okay there hun? You’ve been awfully quiet for someone watching the show.”

To be honest, she didn't even care about her brutal pronunciation of her first name. Nylon Gingham was talking to her, of all people. And she caught her staring. She was flabbergasted. Sinead opened her mouth to speak, but all she could muster was a jumbled mess of nonsensical sputtering before Nylon spoke up again.

"Do they teach you anything useful back where you’re from or are you just going to wing it?"

Her tone was laced with fake niceties, but Sinead didn't care. She wasn't about to make an enemy of the it girl just yet. Pull yourself together, Sinead.

She suddenly understood why talking to pretty girls was so difficult.

"Only how to mine coal," she answered, avoiding Nylon's gaze as she stared down at her fingertips, raw from her anxiety picking away at the reddened skin. She glanced at Nylon's. Her nails were perfect, of course.

All of the sudden, a wave of confidence came over Sinead, and she narrowed her gaze up towards her career counterpart and smirked, exuding the smallest bit of confidence that lay deep inside her belly. "Maybe you could teach me?"

[charade]

Mining coal is the only thing she knows how to do.

Is that like—is that a brag? Or—

She's wearing a neon sign that says easy meat.

I’m about to tell her that I’ve always wanted to hit someone in the skull with a pickaxe when she asks me to teach her. Omigawd, maybe she’s less boring than I thought?

But It’s the first hint of something other than nervousness, and I’m not sure that’s a good thing. Letting that sort of thing go unchecked is how we wind up with victors like Lysander Mae and that twerp from eleven.

Gag.

So I pirouette towards her, stealing another of Silk’s moves and slamming up against Sinead. My forearm against her throat, pinning her to the wall behind her. Close enough to smell the fear, though that might just be whatever shampoo she uses.

Tilting my head to the side, I smile equal parts knowing and amused. But I know the smile doesn’t reach my eyes, because my eyes are always stone in situations like this. Studying. Ask anyone who knows my family and they’ll say Velvet is the tactician or that Satin is the smart one.

They’re only half right.

I may have gotten the looks and mom’s streak of sociopathy but it doesn’t mean I play the game without thinking. I’m not like—a genius or anything, but you don’t get to be fun at parties without knowing how to read the room and the people in it.

“Careful what you wish forrrr!”

It’s sing-song, the pitch of my voice rising and falling like the pulse in her neck. This is too easy. It’s like a lamb walking into a wolf’s den to ask for directions. I’d say she’s up to something, but I don’t think she’s capable of deception. I remove my arm and brush imaginary dust off of her shoulders before walking back to the mat with my hands up like I’m waiting for the polish to dry.

“Okayyy,” I drawl, drawing out the vowel and looking at her skeptically, one hand on my hip. “Come at me. I won’t bite,” I say with a winning smile. “Well—I won’t bite hard.” A slight cackle escapes me as I step into a sparring stance.

I might as well have some fun before all of these kids are dead.

[bailee]

With Nylon's muscular forearm pressing up against her neck, asphyxiating her, Sinead realized she was royally fucked. She was incapacitated by the career, and if she weren't trying to impress Nylon, she would be screaming bloody murder.

Instead, she let a short gasp escape her lips as Nylon released her from her hold. She knew the Peacekeepers all had their eyes on the pair - there was no way they would've let Nylon choke her to death before the Games even started. 

Now she knew she couldn't let her guard down around Nylon, no matter how friendly she acted around her. She knew she had to make allies - and fast - but Nylon reeked of every quality she hated in a person. Ingenuine and almost as fake as the colour of her hair.

She grunted as she pulled herself together, ignoring Nylon's taunting remarks. Sinead pulled herself into a fighting stance - her feet shoulder width apart, her head up and her body square to Nylon. She kept her feet moving on the padded floor, surrounding Nylon around the pit. 

And then she struck, pinning Nylon's left shoulder into her right arm, her back facing Nylon as she lifted the taller girl off of her feet. And with every inch of strength she had gained over the past week, she threw the girl over her shoulder and onto the padded floor.

dice roll
1 = sinead succeeds in throwing nylon to the ground
2 = sinead fails, and falls to the ground herself


MBOipTcn|X1-2

1-2

[charade]

It’s not a bad stance for someone who clearly doesn’t know what they’re doing, I’ll give her that.

But like—I can telegraph it? That’s sad. She’s sad. Wow, I think she’s actually depressing me. I think I yawned. So I roll with the grab, doing a somersault back to my feet as she collapses to the ground in a heap.

“Were you trying to hug me?”

I say this with an air of false confusion before stepping on her. Not hard, just for the hell of it and to briefly bask in my superiority. I skip back a moment later and shake my head.

“Look, if you’re trying to flip someone, you have to put your back into it. Y’know, try?”

So I grab her hand and pull her up off the mat to a standing position, putting my other hand on her waist. It looks like we’re about to tango, and I guess, in a way, we are. I smile, and this time, I mean it.

Like, it’s genuine, and not just me putting on a show.

Who knew fucking around with my fellow tributes would be so much fun?

“Come on, let’s dance.”

And then I use the move she tried to execute a moment ago.

Of course, bad girls do it well.

D3ntkRHHlr1-2
1- flips sinead head over heels
2 - fails to flip her, and both of them hit the mat

1-2

[bailee]

Fuck. Ow.

In a mess of limbs and contortions and wow, I don't think my body is supposed to bend like that, Nylon and Sinead lay on the training mat floor after yet another unsuccessful shoulder throw. Nylon's failure to flip her over her shoulder made Sinead smile, just in the slightest. Good, she needs to be humbled a bit.

"Aren't you careers supposed to be good at this kind of thing?" She groaned, as she picked herself up off the floor and wiped the remnants of the training centre floor off of her tush. She offered Nylon a hand as the two reunited at the centre of the mat.

As much as Nylon irritated her, the least she could get was some free combat lessons from her. And maybe find out what she'll be like in the arena.

It wasn't because Sinead was secretly having fun sparring with Nylon, though. Don't get it twisted.

"C'mon, we're gonna get this right," Sinead told her partner as she repositions herself into a fighting stance. And then she lunges once again, sending a silent prayer to the Gods above that she wouldn't embarrass herself yet again.

1-2 - sinead succeeds in the move
3 - sinead fails, again

HXcpwOwFts1-3

1-3

[charade]

This kind of reminds me of the time I played twister drunk. It was a couple months ago, and it was a lot of fun, even if they didn’t go with my suggestion of removing an item of clothing every time someone couldn’t reach the dot.

I would have won. I’m very flexible. But we untangle ourselves and she tried to insult my form. I just roll my eyes, not even dignifying that with a response. Obviously, the mat is covered in sweat and I couldn’t get a good grip on her. I’m not a grappler anyway. I fight rather straight-forward. Punches, kicks, biting, that sort of thing.

She goes for the same move again, and I decide to give her that one, just to lull her into a false sense of security. I’m spending too much time dicking around. I have to remember this isn’t like sparring my siblings. There’s real stakes here.

Staring up at Sinead from the floor, I stretch out like a cat, all limbs and length.

“I dunno if I like the view from down here. Like I told my ex—

And I go to sweep her legs with mine in one fluid motion.

“—I stay on top.”

SVx9_ps6Ir1-3
1-2 sweeps the leg and stands up, putting a foot on sinead's chest
3 - sweeps the leg and cartwheels backward

1-3