//20,000// Out Of Your League(s) {Luke}

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Katrina Sykes

The impatient cry of a flock of seagulls created a cacophonous soundtrack as Katrina, the eldest of the Sykes sisters readied her small boat for an afternoon out on the sea. She had painted the name of the side of the white boat herself only several days ago, picking a nice shade of dark blue; Julie, her youngest sibling had suggested lipstick red, but Katrina wasn't about to let her vehicle look like a candy cane. Still, the Song of the Storm was a pretty little ship with two sails, just large enough for three people; though she rarely let anyone else on-board. The last time she had brought her sisters on an outing, Irene had gotten seasick all over the brad-new tarp, and Julie had complained the whole time about the lack of boys around to see her new bathing suit.

These were just a few of the reasons she neglected to invite them out again. But besides, she enjoyed the quiet solitude of the open water, with naught but her own skill to rely on, combating ill winds or choppy waves. This day however, the sea was calm, with only a cool but strong breeze rippling across the surface of the water and urging her sails onward. It was a pleasurable past time, and she had to wonder why her older brother had avoided it at all costs. Stretched out on her stomach and trailing her fingers off the port, she looked at her reflection and imagined Branden eyeing the surf as if it was the most dangerous thing in the world.

A small sad smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she reminisced about happier times. The times before her siblings had grown so different and so apart from each other, living in the same house, but so like strangers. The catalyst was Bran of course, it always had been. He had been the glue, the listening ear, the shoulder to cry on in lieu of their inattentive parents. With him gone, it fell to Kat to be there for the others, and well... she just wasn't that good at comforting people. She'd been called rude, insensitive, and a dozen other things that she could care less about. if they didn't accept the help she had to offer, then their loss. She wasn't about to waste time on trying to console people that didn't want it.

Branden had been the patient one, and she still blamed her parents for his death. Their misguided attempt to force him to do something he hated. The only Sykes boy had been content to avoid the water and can seafood at his job, interacting with his small circle of friends. It had been them that had pushed and pulled, conniving to get him out of the house and out of their hair. Imagine their horror when the Peacekeepers showed up at the house to inform them that the wedding cruiser had capsized and all aboard had been lost. Not a single survivor to be found.And imagining it was all she had. Her parents had barely shed a tear when they received the news ,only moping around the house for a week or two. Coldhearted bastards.

A small swell poured a little bit of sea over the side, bringing briny water on-board to slosh quietly at the bottom. She was dressed the occasion, a sleeveless tank top complemented by a light pair of shorts. There was a swimsuit underneath them of course, should she feel like swimming later, but her shoes had been left at home; no sense in ruining a good pair of boots if she decided to take a dip. In any case, she was of the opinion that it was easier to keep your sea-legs steady when barefoot.

Song Of The Storm lazily drifted closer to the shore, bringing several other ships into view along with the piers. Katrina groaned softly and rolled her eyes as she passed another boat. Many people were out and about around this time, but she was going to ignore them all. If her boat drifted in front of someone, they would just have to wait for it to move out of the way;This was her time to herself, and to the arena with anyone who wanted to mess with that. Closing her eyelids, she rolled onto her back and put her hands clasped underneath her head. Thus far, it had been a good day.

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It’s a steep drawp down into the watah below from where I stand. I’m on one of the old train bridges, one of the ones that’s made up of metal creeped with vines and about to fawl into the sea. The sun hangs up overhead, and I can feel it searing into my back. It’ll be nice once I hit the water down below and get deep into that dirty blue. I wonder if it’s from before the wah that brought us all togetha, but I no one seems to know. Coulda been from a long time ago, and they just nevah updated it—not even sure where it really goes. But it was just high enough to get a good jump off and into the salt watah down below.

I’m not good at many things—maybe working with knives in training, descaling fish, tying knots—but there was something that pulled me to do this. I’d stahted by jumping off the boat when I was younger, just when I was able to swim. Gave my parents a heart attack a few times, disappearing deep underneath before popping up again from underneath. Back then it was fun and a release, it made me laugh and let me play games with my little sistahs. Something carefree about jumping off and into the air, high and away, before being pulled back to the earth by yah own gravity. You get a few seconds of air and it feels like freedom, lets you reach out toward the sun like yah gonna be able to reach up and touch it.

But we’d seen our bumps and bruises, we’d had ah ship run aground and split along the bow. Mah mother and fatha hadn’t righted the path in time, and now everyone was floating on pieces, clinging onto to what they’d had before. I liked to think I’d made a swim for it, but I’m weighed down by my fatha, who’s on my back, and I can hear my sisters with my mother. They cry out because they’re stuck with the evil witch, while I got to escape. Not permanently, ‘course. She still gets to see me from time to time, and makes me wear clothes and tells me I don’t speak propahly. Doesn’t like mah fourish accent, but I tell hah that I can’t be botha’d to try’n speak like a capitolite if I’m nevah gonna do anything otha than fish.

Things like that make kid’s games seem stupid. Makes the idea of jumpin’ up in the air seem like a thing fah idle minds. But I don’t stop—haven’t yet—just… see it differently, I guess. I bring my arms up so that they’re above my sides, my legs locked together, my body ready to spring. Not much of anything in my head in the first place, so getting’ to think about somethin’ must be good for me.

[/color] I set off, knees coming down, bouncing upward, my whole body flies up and I’m off the platform. There’s that moment when I’m bringing my body forward and I see the whole sea waiting fah me down below and I smile. I start twisting and swing my body around before bringing my legs up tight and begin falling forward, round and around.

In the drop, the only thing I’m thinking about it hitting the watah. Get in deep, so deep that I might nawt come up in time. I want to feel the smack as I hit the watah, and I want to come up with my lungs burnin’ for air.[/color] It’s nawt about the jump now, it’s about the finish, it’s about where I wind up.[/color] All I can feeling during it is the rush of the wind against my skin. Nothin’ about how we were late on our last payment for the boat, or that my mum won’t even speak to me when I come intah her house. No questions from my sistahs about why I look at the girls longah than usual sometimes, and other times at tha boys. All I have is the flow, my body, and the sight of the ocean down below.

So I wind up and am spinning down, the world blurring as I tack a little too fah forward—I’ll have to correct that for next time—and then there’s a gust of wind, and I realized in a terrifying moment I hadn’t checked fah any incoming ships. There’s a flash of white below and a loud clank[/color] as my body collides with a mast, and everything goes out of focus. I can feel myself scrape against the sail and swirl downward before slamming into the boom, which comes across the stern with such force that I don’t even see the edge of the gunwhale. Anothah second and the blurriness goes to black, just as I hit the watah, robbed of knowin’ how deep I’ve gone.[/color]
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Katrina Sykes

It was peaceful, just drifting on a steady headwind. Out away from the shore, the cares of life had a tendency of taking a backseat. Removed as she was, she needed only worry about the boat and keep it from capsizing. The thoughts of things like her sisters well-being and the other wants of home life leaked away with the soothing rock of the waves. She was the one to take care of her siblings, of that there was no question. With parents that only seemed to care about work and each other, it was all she could do to keep the other two in line. How had Branden put up with all of them with a smile and the occasional sigh? Kat was too heavy-handed to deal with the woes of sisterhood; not equipped to handle things like crushes and make-up and dances, though she relished the opportunity to kick some punks posterior for making Irene or Julie sad.

Then there was the annoyance of school, Kat found herself receiving invites to the training center every now and then; something she despised. True, she was in good shape, but being strong didn't automatically mean she was interested in whacking away at other people with practice weapons. Where Branden and Irene were afraid of the games, Kat just found them to be a needless, thoughtless and pointless excursion. She liked the career mindset even less. So what if someone could impale sill target dummies with a harpoon; other tributes would not just stand around waiting to die, nor were you even guaranteed to get the weapon you were prominent in. It all came down to a mixture of chance, and how well you were able to adapt in harrowing situations.

But that was all tripe anyway. Now, now was the time given to daydreaming among the roll of the waves, the heat of the sun and the cool breeze. "Cap'n Sykes! Tis a favorable wind that drives us forward.""Aye bo'sun. Keep her steady."For Captain Sykes and her crew, the open sea was the only home they could ever remember; and the only one they wanted. A good assortment of fellows, recruited from all over the country. Missy Langstrom her first mate, a devious wanderer from district six. Jorge and Ryan Shidders, the twins; and the best pair of bodyguards she could ask for; and Sharkbait, the dark-skinned quartermaster she had pulled out of a shipwreck with her own hands.

There were dozens more, each with their own strange story, but she was jolted out of her reminiscing by a shout from the crows nest. "Ship ahoy!" Putting her spyglass up to her eye with a practiced hand, she gazed upon a ship with red sails. "They are flying career colors ma'am!" Captain Kat grimaced. That was never a good sign, nor was it good that the other ship was steadily gaining on them. Looking again, she could just make out the name that adorned the side."It's the Galechaser! To arms!"The crew sprang into action, readying the cannons and bristling with all manner of hook and sword. "They're coming around"!"Fire!"The ship rocked with the release of the guns, and she grinned in satisfaction as they punched three holes into the oncoming ship."Stand steady for return fire!" Kat braced herself for impact as cannonballs came hurtling towards her pride and joy.

[/i]

The boat moved, and she congratulated herself on her solid imagination. But when the boat pitched violently, jarring her out of her daydream, she sat up with wide eyes in time to see a person bodily hit her stern and tumble over the side. Looking around frantically for the source of this person, as people don't exactly fall out of the sky on a daily basis, she figured they must have jumped from one of the piers, as the other boats around were quite a bit off. Once it became clear that no one else was going to dive-bomb her and the initial shock of someone actually doing that had worn off, she got up and inspected her boat.

Uttering a small oath as she ran a finger across the inches long crack in her mast, she felt her temper rising. This idiot had just cost her a few weeks worth of pay. Where were they anyway? Walking in a huff to her stern, she cast her gaze about, expecting to see a smug boy with a self-satisfied grin on his face. Boys could be so dumb sometimes; he was probably showing off for empty-headed girl up on the pier. She spotted a form some feet underneath the waves; so, he was hiding was he? He knew what he did, she'd just wait for him to surface. After a few minutes though, the person did not, but instead became dimmer and dimmer beneath the glassy surf, with no sign of movement at all.[/color]

"Crap."The diver must have knocked themselves out on her hull. At least she knew her ship was well built."The things I do for people." Without a moment's hesitation, Kat kicked the rope ladder down and jumped overboard to save this reckless youth. The sea was warm when she first hit it, before the shock of the cold hit her. It took a moment, and though her eyes stung from the salt, she could see the boy, and it was a boy; floating softly several feet below her, suspended in the water like a bubble trapped in ice.

Her head surfaced for a moment and she took in a deep breath, before diving, kicking her long legs out as she sped towards the lad. Of course, he was shirtless,which gave her less to hang on to, so she wrapped one arm around his chest and kicked up. Thankfully, he had a small build; Kat couldn't imagine trying to carry a large career to the surface. Lungs starting to complain, she burst out of the water with a gasp, flailing around for her boat. It had drifted a little way away, and she stroked towards it, trying to keep the boys head above water as she did so.

Gripping the rope, she let go of the unconscious boy and hauled herself onto the Song Of The Storm, only taking a moments respite before heaving him aboard as well."Don't be dead, Don't be dead. This is an insurance nightmare." He hit the deck with a thump, and she cursed silently, not wanting to injure him further. The lad was certainly younger than her, if his face was any indication, a lack of broad shoulders only serving to further the concept of a youth."Kids these days."she muttered as she knelt to inspect his face. There was a red goose egg rising on his forehead and when she put a finger to his eyelid to check his vision, his eyes were unseeing.

"C'mon, don't be brain damaged." she fretted. Pinching his nose betwixt her thumb and forefinger, she parted his mouth and blew air into his lungs, before clasping her hands together and pushing down on his chest several times."Wake up!" She blew air into his airway twice more, alternating but repeating the pattern. Growing more irritated at the refusal of this clodhopper to regain consciousness after damaging her boat, she brought her fists down hard on the middle of his chest."Wake up little fishy. I said WAKE UP!"
Bending again, she gave air to him once more, fervently hoping that she wouldn't have to explain a dead body to the authorities, or have to... dump said body.

Decisions, decisions.

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Graphic credit to the elegant, uhm, Elegant. <3

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It’s a swirl of colahs that blinds me. I’m tumbling still, not stoppin’ until I’m completely burrowed under the watah. But it’s not as though I’m afraid of this place—I should be, right, considerin’ that I’ve just been cracked in the skull and plopped down below. Yet I’m calm, my own body underneath and riding through the waves. I open my eyes and can see under the watah—a dream, this is—and can take in the briny ocean watah as though it’s air. I’m a fish, swimming undah the waves and a collective dark blue deep. It’s a marvahl then, this dream-state takin’ becomin’ clearer as the colors solidify into a brilliant cerulean. I’m alone though—nothing but a big ol’ sea around me—and I can’t help but wondah if this is the space between life and death. Not that we evah talked about such things in my family. Death was a quiet thing—nevah seen it up close—and for us there was always the hope that the after was where things nevah ended.

I kick out and swim through, pushing out towards the east as though that might lead me back to shore. I can see somethin’ in the distance but it’s too far—I hovah in the waves and I stop. What’s this meant to be, anyway? If it’s a dream I’m all by my lonesome, not even a few fish to keep me company. But if it’s the aftah it’s worse—am I stuck with nothin’ but a dark ocean?

[/color] All at once a pack of tuna spirals ‘round my body and I let out a laugh. They spin around and around and I kick to follow them. They’re too fast, and disappear into the distance. A pack of sting rays hovers over me and I try to swim up—if that’s up—but they disappear into the horizon too. And so I’m alone, stuck in the pleasant blue around me. It’s not terribly bad, just lonely.[/color] I chew my lip and wonder if there’s a better spot, and my eyes drift upward toward what might be the surface.

I hear a voice whispering and things become a little clearer. A glint of light shines down into the waves and I kick upwahd, legs together in a buttahfly motion, and make my way. At once a chill runs down my back and I feel an urgency to get to the surface—as not making it there will somehow be a terrible thing[/color]—and I’m rushin’ as fast as I can. My lungs burn now, and it feels different, this desperate course toward the surface. I can’t take in the water as air—it’s not meant for me anymore—and I’m flailing hahd to get there, I can almost reach it. But my vision blurs again, and I can feel the blackness coming. It’s the blackout we get from runnin’ out of air, the blurry yellow that fizzles into black when yah haven’t got anything left inside. It’s scary—the blackness isn’t comfortin’ like the blue—and I give one last kick to break up through the surface before I’m gone again.

“Wake up little fishy. I said WAKE UP…”

My eyes fluttah’d and I’m blinded by the sunlight. There’s some coughing and I retch onto the side of the deck, emptying out the contents of my stomach—a few bits of apple and a ham sandwich—before coughing up all the seawatah that’s inside of me. I’m dizzy still, and I blink my eyes slowly to try and figure out just where I might be. It’s not the blue of before, this is real, and the cold from the watah creeps into my skin. My teeth chattah and I lay on my back on the deck breathin’ in slowly. My head is splittin’ and I get a spell of colahs when I move too quickly to the side. But I’m thankful—so thankful that I want to hug whoevah managed to pull me out of the ocean below. Must have been some sailor that noticed me—the idiot—that thwacked into his boat.

But instead of a man I see a gorgeous older girl—and I give a smile. She saved me…[/color] it’s all I can do to help from rushing up and kissin’ her for what she did. I move to get up again and wince, the pain in my head intense. It didn’t mattah too much though, I was lost a little looking ovah my savior. I lay on my back lookin’ up at her with what probably was the goofiest grin evah on my face. I licked my lips, still tasting of salt and bile, and cleared my throat.

“Not dead… no…” I whispah out as I wiggle my fingers and toes, checking that all my pahts were in workin’ ordah. I cough again and reach out to her, tryin’ to grab her hand to do somethin’ to show her my gratitude. “You… you saved me…” I get anothah coughing fit and lay back down again. “Thank you… thanks…” There’s so much I want to do—to apologize, but at the present I let out a groan and close my eyes. The throbbin’ headache is making it hahd to get many words out to her.
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Katrina Sykes

The boy began to slowly stir so Kat rocked back on her heels and sat down as his eyes blinked rapidly."Ah good, you're awa-" The contents of his stomach rapidly made their presence known, spilling across her nice clean deck, chunks of who knew what sloshing around inside of a puddle of briny seawater and bitter stomach fluids. She bit the inside of her cheek in thinly disguised disgust. If he didn't have a good explanation for this escapade she was going to swab the deck with his hair.

Teeth clicking together, the fish out of water lay on his back, gasping for air, and yet managing to shoot her a smile while he did so , before coughing as he reached towards her. The fish tried to thank her, but his sputtering attempt to talk only set off a round of further coughing, which ended in him laying back down and closing his eyes."Whoa there buddy, don't pass out again, I've already done CPR." Smacking the side of his face lightly with the palm of one hand, she slipped a hand under his back and propped him up into a sitting position, back to the bow of the ship, and away from the pool of vomit.

Standing up and away from hit, she strode towards the mast to make sure the sails were secure; the wind had picked up a little during this excursion."Since you may not have seen the name on the side as you hit it with your face, welcome aboard my boat, The Song Of The Storm."Waving her hands in the air with a flourish she introduced herself to the catch of the day."I'm Katrina, but you can call me Kat."Running her fingers up and down the mast, she smiled softly."I bought this ship with hard-earned money. But it didn't come with a seven inch crack in the mast." As she said so, she picked a few splinters out of the pole.

"The shore is about a half mile that way, if you feel like swimmiing." she said with a point, the other hand on her hip."Otherwise, you're stuck here until I'm decide I'm done sailing."A gust a wind blew by,and she involuntarily shivered."What were you thinking?! You could have died, and I could have capsized! Jumping off of the pier haphazardly like that. People don't look where they're going anymore. It might have been so much worse."As she ranted, her voice rose in volume and she peeled off her soaked shorts and shirt, revealing her bikini and securely fastening the clothes to the sails with clips."That's going to take awhile to dry out... no thanks to you."

Katrina then proceeded to sit near the tiller with her legs crossed."It's a nice day out, and I'd prefer to keep it that way. Are you alright? Need medical attention or food? Or a solid thumping?"This last sentence was said rather huffily as she watched him from her perch. It was calm after the storm, and Sharkbait had pulled a half-dead castaway from the wreckage of a sunken ship. "It's a dangerous career trick!" Missy had claimed. "Keelhaul Him!" Captain Kat told her to hush as she made up her own mind about the stranger. The twins had been of the opinion of dropping him at the nearest port. Sharkbait just wanted the whole ordeal over with."Perhaps we will, perhaps we won't Missy. But I need some information first."

[/i][/color]Katrina smiled inwardly; pretending she was out on the high seas with a crew always put her in a better mood."What's your name anyway?

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My head is still swimmin’ as I lay back against the deck. I catch another whiff of what I’ve just gotten out of me and gag, if only ‘cause I still think that there’s some watah down in my belly. Her hands are on me and I can hear some mutterin’ but it’s all still a little bit blurry. I let out anotha burp and try to not to smirk at the gawgeous girl that’s coming into focus in front of me. The sunlight reflects off her skin and I have to blink my eyes again to see if what I’m starin’ at is real. A lot of the girls that work on the boats are a little bit rougher’n this one—tend to have big bodies and scary faces. Few of ‘em have worked on the docks with my pa. Might have been why I nevah really looked at any of ‘em before. ‘Cause it was hahd enough fah me tah figure out livin’ with my pa one minute and my sistahs the next. I put my hands up onto my chest and continue starin’ up at her as she speaks. Hopefully I don’t look like too much of a clownfish.

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“Since you may not have seen the name on the side as you hit it with your face, welcome aboard my boat, The Song Of The Storm.” I cock my head to the side and stare ‘round the boat. It’s not too much—a pretty little thing for this pretty little thing—a throb hits my head and I close my eyes tight until it passes. And her name, too, it’s pretty. Not much of a District Four name, ‘least not one like any I’ve heard before.[/color] “I'm Katrina, but you can call me Kat.”

But as I open my eyes tah look up at her, I see her demeanor change. Her voice isn’t as soft or friendly, but gruff just like the women that worked on the docks. “I bought this ship with hard-earned money. But it didn't come with a seven inch crack in the mast.” I want to shrink back up into my shell, and disappear from here. I don’t want her to yell at me—I mean, I know it’s my fawlt—but it wasn’t as if I was tryin’ to kill myself. I was just practicin’… havin’ fun. And maybe if I had anyone to do it with me, they woulda told me her boat was gonna get in the way.[/color] I want to open my mouth tah say somethin’, but I know it’s best not to upset her any more than she already is. It’s not like I evah have a good idea of what tah say anyway.[/color]

"The shore is about a half mile that way, if you feel like swimming. Otherwise, you're stuck here until I'm decide I'm done sailing.” Swimming? I feel like my head is gonna split itself in half![/color] I shake my head and close my eyes again only to see a flash of colahs. I lean forward again and let out a groan—I feel like such a little kid in fronta her. Feels like when my sistahs would do somethin’ stupid on the boat with my Dad… when I’d give ‘em what for if they messed with the lines or wandahed too fah without me. My face flushes red and I sit a little straighta up against the wall. I don’t want her to think I’m some kind of stupid kid… not at all.[/color] But I as soon as I open my mouth tah finally say somethin’, she spews some more outta her blowhole. “What were you thinking?! You could have died, and I could have capsized! Jumping off of the pier haphazardly like that. People don't look where they're going anymore. It might have been so much worse!”

And with this I flush even more, only to see her shimming out of her clothing. My eyes widen as I watch her, and I’m tryin’ my hardest to think about how ashamed I am what I’ve done to her poor little boat. But I’ve never seen a girl like this up close, not one with a body like that, not one that could yell at me for as long as she wanted if it meant I got to look at her like this.[/color] I’m sure my mouth is hangin’ open—and I mutter a weak no in reply. I bring my knees to my chest and hide a little bit of what’s happenin’—I mean, it’s from me almost dyin’ right, I heard that happens sometimes—but I can’t help but chew my lip and stare. Right, not so much eye contact.[/color] But oh man, how much I want her to hold me down and keep yellin’ at me… oh… wouldn’t mind her gettin’ out some rope and—[/color] She’s finishing up now, I catch her last few words and grin. “…A solid thumping…”

“Yes please…” I get out before I realize what I’m saying, and my mouth hangs open as I look out past Kat. S—t.[/color] “I mean… I don’t… I didn’t mean to break yah boat, nawt at all… I was practicin’ divin’ off of that ovah there… just… you know, takin’ a break from trainin’… didn’t have tah be back on my fatha’s boat until sundown… we fish out here too… I… I’m really sorry. It was really stupid, it was… though—I don’t know why you were so close ovah here anyway…” I throw my hands up and I realize I’m trying to shirk the blame and—well that’s not what I should be doing at all—it’s better to hide behind me bein’ an idiot and have her feel sorry for me anyway. ‘Cause it was my fault. It was usually my fault.[/color] I let out another groan and rub my head before listin’ to the side some.

“I’m Bala Guppy,” I get out at last and I’m sure it doesn’t mean anything to her. The Guppies have been fisherman forevah, but we’ve always had our ups and downs—so we cling to our rented boat as our prize. That and my motha takes most of what my dad makes anyway.[/color] “I uh… I am really sorry… it really was all my fault, I just… I just wanted to have some fun… I like divin’, I like swimmin’… I guess I shoulda been more careful…” I stare down at the deck and try not to look up at her even if I want to see the way the water is dripping down inbetween her swimsuit and onto her stomach.[/color] “I don’t really have anything to uh… buy you a new one, but maybe I could help yah fix it?”
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Katrina Sykes

The look on Bala's face reminded her a little bit of Irene, curled up with his knees to his chest and his arms around his legs. That similarity made Kat feel bad, if only for a moment. Red in the face, he avoided staring at her, another clear sign of guilt. This fish out of water clearly felt bad about what he had done, and darn right he should be. She caught a barely audible no, an admission of guilt that made her feel like she was scolding some young un's. Perhaps she was; he certainly looked a few years younger than her. Of all the boats and all the piers, he would hit hers. That was just the way of things wasn't it?

“Yes please…” So. The fish could talk, and here she had been starting to think he wasn't going to say anything. What did he want? Food to replace the chunks that were currently staining her deck? But from his mouth began to spill a rather large quantity of words. Well, I guess I did want answers to these questions... “I mean… I don’t… I didn’t mean to break yah boat, nawt at all… I was practicin’ divin’ off of that ovah there…" Oh is that all. Kat rolled her eyes. just… you know, takin’ a break from trainin’… Training? So the little fish wants to be the biggest one in the pond. Are there no men left in world? Only boys?

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"...don’t know why you were so close ovah here anyway…” he muttered, hands going up in protest as he rubbed the side of his head. Tilting her head to one side in slight agreement, she supposed it might have been partly her fault for drifting so close to the pier. Of course, he didn't need to know that. “I’m Bala Guppy,” A fishy name for a fishy person. “I uh… I am really sorry… it really was all my fault, I just… I just wanted to have some fun… I like divin’, I like swimmin’… I guess I shoulda been more careful…” Ya think? “I don’t really have anything to uh… buy you a new one, but maybe I could help yah fix it?”

She blew an irritated sigh, glancing at the mast to Bala, and back again to the damaged piece of the ship. "Taking a break from training were you?" She said with a smirk."Can't wait to jab at unsuspecting tributes with your harpoon?"She shook her head, before jumping up and striding the short distance to him, leaning over when she reached him and stabbing a finger at his chest. "Careers are not among my favorite people Bala." Waggling her pointer finger back and forth in a pantomime of disappointment, she fell silent.

"He's one of them Captain, we should throw him overboard. Strand him somewhere! Kat put up a hand to quiet the crew."We've gotten info, and we risked a lot to save his sorry hide. It's only fair that he pays us back now."You don't mean to make him a part of the crew do you?" The captain tossed her head back with a loud guffaw. "Of course not. But he owes us big time. He wants to go ashore? He'll have to work for it."The crew erupted into cheers. [/i]C'mon then."Wrapping a hand around his thin wrist, she pulled him to his feet, and pushed him towards the middle of the ship."Tell me, how would you fix this?"
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narration
thought
other’s speech
my speech
exclamations

I’m nawt sure if she really appreciates what I have tah say, judgin’ by the faces she keeps givin’ me. But I don’t mind really, if it means she gonna keep starin’ at me. Hey gawgeous, do you like what you see? I can think it in my head, ‘cause I’d nevah say it to her in real life. It’d probably come out more like Ah… you, ah… you… I… uh… yeah…

[/color] with a few more strings of dumb noises. I can only hope, and I know it’s a dream, ‘cause she’s already lookin’ at where I banged up the boat real good. It’s a good thing that us Guppies have hahd heads, otherwise mine mighta been like an overripe melon on the deck of her ship. Then she’d have an even biggah mess to clean up than she had now. It wasn’t so bad that I was a little concussed—kinda hahd to focus on just one thing—and I blink a few times to make sure I’m still seein’ her gawgeous face propahly.

“Taking a break from training were you? Can't wait to jab at unsuspecting tributes with your harpoon?” She calls me out on my trainin’ and I scrunch up my face. She doesn’t really undastand, then. She doesn’t know what it means to some people to get the chance to be a career, to have something to do with their lives otha than just trudging out on a boat all day and collecting worn out shoes mixed in with a few shrimp and catfish. Gives yah something to hold onto. Gives you hope. ‘Cause if I do[/color] get reaped at least I won’t be as helpless as the rest of the pah kids from the lower districts. And it helps me protect myself, and my sistahs from everyone and anyone else. “Careers are not among my favorite people Bala.”

I can feel my cheeks go a little red, though I’m not sure if it’s from my injury or the fact that I don’t really know what to say. I don’t evah really say a lot on account of not wantin’ to look stupid, but especially around this girl. Still wasn’t fair though, to lump us all together like we just wanted to see people die.[/color] There were some kids that probably wanted that more than anything. But nawt me.[/color] I’d do what I had to tah survive the games, sure. But that’s just a fact of life. Can’t just sit back and hope everyone kills each otha. Kids did that every year, and I didn’t see none of them ever win. These past games—none of the top five hadn’t[/color] killed someone. Was just a fact of the games, and some of us wouldn’t be lucky enough to get out of ‘em.

“But we aren’t all the same, yeah?” I push the words out, but I’m looking down at the deck. As long as I look down here I can’t tell if she’s mad about what I’m sayin’ or not.[/color] “Not everyone does it ‘cause they want to kill someone. Some of us want to get fit… want to protect ourselves… or our friends…” My voice dies down at the end and I keep lookin’ down at the deck. She not finished talkin’ though, and I shut my lips tight as I listen to her pace about the ship. It bobs in the watah and I do my best to restrain against the wall, still queasy. But she doesn’t let me sit, and I feel a hand against my wrist and a tug. The colahs spit out into my eyes and I let out a hiss. I also make sure my swimsuit doesn’t reveal how tight it’s gotten.[/color]

“C'mon then, tell me, how would you fix this?” I look up at the rack and back to her, and shrug my shoulders. I’ve been in the watah my whole life, on board my fatha’s ship for years now, and I’ve heard a number of ways tah repair-ah things. Not actually done much of it myself yet—not that she needed tah know—but I felt a little swell of confidence as I thought I had the answer. I cleared my throat and motioned up toward the crack in the mast.

“You gotta sleeve the mast and put some rivets in… that way it’s suppahted and doesn’t fall apaht or cause any otha problems while you sail. ‘Course it won’t be the… cheapest thing in the world…” And I feel my face flush again as I look down at the flawr. “It also depends on whetha or nawt the inside of yah mast is metal ah wood, or… I don’t know… it’s just uh… it’s uh…”[/color] The words don’t come anymore and I start to chew on my lips. I feel a little dizzy and move forward some. Though paht of me just wants to get closa to her.[/color]

“I… I’ll do my best tah help you fix whateva yah need, howevah long it takes….” [/blockquote][/blockquote][/size][/justify]

[charade]

Katrina Sykes

Katrina muttered silently, mockingly repeating Bala’s words under her breath.“Well, It’s nice to see that you aren’t a complete imbecile.” Huffily grabbing the nearest seat, she crossed her legs and arched a brow in contempt.“At least my ship is still operable. If it wasn’t I’d have tossed your sorry hide overboard as soon as you had regained consciousness.”The boy was trying; she’d give him that. It was more than most would do. Few were the people willing to own up to their mistakes and attempt to rectify it. Maybe this fish was more mature than she had expected. But that didn’t mean she had to be nice. She was still fuming over his initial act of stupidity, and the fact that he kept staring off into the distance was annoying as well. The sun continued to shine down, illuminating shadows on the deck as the soft slap of waves of the hull performed a soundtrack for the vehicle.

It’s nice out.”she said nonsequitarily.“You should stop looking like a fish gasping for air. I’m not going to maroon you or anything.” Not really caring what Bala did at this point, kat busied herself about finding her lunch, which in this case was a nice filet of seared salmon over a bed of leafy vegetables, complemented by an apple and a canteen of freshwater. This was within a container that itself sat in a small compartment underneath where she sat. Retrieving her meal, Kat set about carving the fish up into pieces and delicately took small dainty bites for several minutes before tossing the apple in her guests general direction.“Eat. You need something to settle your stomach.”It was no different than how she would talk to her sisters, simply stating the most logical course of action available. No ifs ands or buts about it.

“So tell me about yourself Bala. Anything to kill this boredom.”The last few bits of salmon disappeared, and she sent out eating the greens, enjoying the crisp flavor and the crunch of the stalks. This continued for a few more minutes, before the container was empty, and she returned it to its compartment. Only half-paying attention to her uninvited guest, she fumbled for a tube and uncapped her sunscreen, applying it liberally to her arm and legs, and daubing some on her flat stomach and sides, all the way up to her face. On a whim, the lotion was then haphazardly tossed towards the Guppy the same way the apple had been.“Should be enough for you in there, but could you get my back first? I’d hate to come back to shore looking like a lobster.”

Swinging her legs over the side, she presented her back to Bala. If there was free help to be had, she might as well take advantage of it. Idly examining the fingernails on an outstretched hand, she snapped, though in a much softer tone than she had been talking previously.“Hop to it Fish! I haven’t got all day you know.” Heh. Fish the cabin boy for free help. Now this was how a Captain should live on her vessel.

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