Toymakers [Safina x Portia]

[D'Arcy Mason d6b [Tyler]]

[googlefont="Cinzel Decorative"]

Safina Roy

Toymakers - I

It was almost as if I was back home at my own desk as my eyes scanned the array of materials before me. Bits of metal and wiring, shards of glass, wooden logs, a pile of dirt, and an assortment of other odds and ends lay across the tables of the station. Building blocks waiting for the visionary that will shape them into something new and exciting and dangerous and deadly. My mind was working like a well-oiled machine, used to the years of my inventive hobbies. It contemplated a variety of uses for the mess of items. The focus, at the moment, was on deadly uses.

An idea struck, and my hands were flying. One lands on a dim flashlight, the bulb's filament hanging on by a thread. The other finds a length of cable about as thick as my pinky finger and frayed wildly on one end. I unscrew part of the flashlight and discard the pitiful bulb before picking apart bits and pieces I won't need, following the instructions that are writing themselves out in my mind. Finally wires are exposed, and I set myself to wedging the clean-cut end of the cable down between them, twisting the wires around it as if they wish to pull it into a secret world that exists only in the depths of the flashlight. Once I'm satisfied their makeshift bond holds strong enough. I take in the prototype before me. A nice whip, or lasso, or tripwire or whatever I may need it for, attached to the battery of the flashlight that I'm hoping will add an electrifying kick.

I get up, and it's time to try it out. The trainer sets up a dummy for me a little ways away. I start up with the flashlight off; building this weapon is one thing, using it, well… could be better. I catch myself the first attempt with the wire and thank myself silently for having the foresight to keep this thing turned off. The next try I catch the dummy with the frayed end of the wire, leaving a scratch across its chest. A few more swings and I'm starting to get the hang of using it. Once I feel comfortable with it, I turn the flashlight on.

The frayed end of the cable comes alive with sparks, as the wires begin passing their current through this conduit in search of a lightbulb that's no longer there. I whip it towards the practice dummy once more and hear the crackle of the electricity streaking towards it. Contact is made with a POP! And I turn the flashlight off quickly before the cable can make its way back to me. I see the slight scorch on the face of the dummy where my weapon made contact. Looks like my prototype has promise.

I guess inventing weapons isn't so different from anything else. Maybe using them won't feel much different either. I remember one of my father's rare discussions of a particularly secretive project he'd been hired to help on years ago, mentioning the use of rats as tests of whatever they were working on. He had mentioned that they needed to find more since the ones they had had died during the tests. Necessary deaths towards accomplishing their goal.

Perhaps this won't be any different. I create, and I test, and I have an arena full of Lab Rats to test on. Necessary deaths towards accomplishing my own goal. A chill runs down my spine as the thought that I could be so emotionless about killing the other kids around me. I try to push it as far out of mind as I can, although I still feel its shadow lingering just out of sight.

I become aware of the eyes that are trained onto me, only a short distance away. It seems I've caught the attention of the girl from One. I guess the athlete's got an eye for invention. Inside, the idea of a Career being aware of me is still a little terrifying, but there's no avoiding it now. Besides, if I can end up aligning with one Career, maybe I can stop treating them all like they're already the winners of this thing.

"You know, back in Three we're usually making cooler things than weapons," I start up the conversation, "But I guess there's not much need for anything else here, is there?" I extend my shocking new contraption, with its inevitable short life in this room, towards her "I could use a second opinion on this, though. Want to give it a go?"

[WC: 767]

[d6a georgie cham 🍓🐢 frankel]

PORTIA MAYBACH

Up until now, Portia has been focusing on the training stations that she is already an expert in. May as well impress the sponsors early on so that the money pot starts to overflow. She is not dumb though, there’s still more for her to learn in the training centre and she just has a few days to cram it all. This morning, she has jogged her memory on first aid and fire making, both minor classes that she has taken at the career academy back home.

Portia’s eyes skim across the weapon and trap making stations. A daughter of a family who’s known to manufacture machines, but it all seems so overwhelming to her. There’s usually a manual or instructions to follow written by her grandad, not an assortment of odd ends and no idea where to start.

There’s a lot of hovering from the career for a few minutes, so much so that one of the trainers tries to lure her to a trap building bench but she just smiles at them and denies the request. Curiosity forces her to stay here, one of the other tributes is testing out their contraption and it doesn’t seem half bad.

It is shocking, quite literally, what this girl has managed to throw together with the junk piled up on the tables. Portia stands with her arms crossed, a smug look on her face as the electrified whip is demonstrated for all to see. She can sense the eyes peeling from her and onto the girl that she is sure is one of the District Threes. Of course that explains it, that’s where her older sister Nova is now, blossoming her engineering skills with the Maybach Motors branch that is stationed there.

Portia etches the girl from Three onto the list in her mind – the ones to be wary of. Someone so resourceful will certainly have a survival instinct.

Her silent hovering is short-lived, the electric whip girl quickly notices her. ”Oh I know all about Three actually, and all that is made there.”

The girl offers Portia a go with her whip. Portia unfolds her arms and is wary of a trick of the electric being turned on as it is exchanged. She makes sure to grab the handle so that she isn’t shocked. Portia bounces the flashlight in her hand, impressed and her face proves it. ”Not a bad toy,” Portia cracks the makeshift whip after hitting the switch. Sparks dance across the training dummy’s abdomen and now all the eyes are back on her. ”Can you show me how you made it? Maybe I can help you with anything else, in exchange…” Portia already has Circe and Sera on her lineup of teammates, she wouldn’t mind adding an inventor to complete it.

ELEGANT