Wishing for something more //Parks

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Facing the line...

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I sigh heavily. The breath calming me to a certain extent as I finished tieing my shoes. My fingers move intriquetly with the weaves and the loops. Letting the shoelace turn around the bent lace and come through to knot it into place. I see how little work or thought goes into making the shoe's laces be tied. How easily that it took no time at all to do what I needed before I would meet with someone to spar with. The last thing I need is my shoe to mess me up. So, I pull the strings to the side of my shoe and tuck them neatly inside of my shoe. Out of site. Out of the way so I woudln't step on them or my opponent to take advantage of my misfortunate mistake. Leaning up, I let my arms rest on my knees. My fingers folding together.

"That guy better not be here today." I said referring to the one that I had a weapon spar with when I was twelve. The one who broke my hand and then I showed him not to cross me. The one that hasn't had the nerve to go up against me again, but there's still that feeling that one day he'll make it happen. One day, in or out of the gym, I will have to face him again and I knew that I better be ready with every key part of the fights. I've more than handled my fair share of weapons, the spear and bow and arrow being my trades. As for hand to hand combat, it was my weak point. I know I need to step up my game, so for me to be here, right now, is daunting. I have no clue who I will be paried up with. I don't want some guy or girl that will be a weakling, but I don't want someone so experienced that I was most assuredly fail. I need someone that will fit me. Who will teach me and show me. Someone who will take the time to not let me win. Who would that be?

I get up from the bench in the locker room, and slam the door to the locker shut. The musty odor of the shower room lingers everywhere with the humid part of someone who recently took a shower. I let the warm mist seep into my skin as a calming agent. Being warm soothes me enough that I glance at the mirror on my exit from the lockerroom. My reflection showing my hair straight down. No make up. A small headwrap holding my bangs back. I see a somewhat confident smile creep on my lips when my hands touch the door and I walk out to see everyone already training. Some running laps, while others working with strength training. I don't see anyone on the mats, so either noone has found a partner, or it just isn't an area of interest. I hope that I will at least be able to get something today. I sigh.

I carry myself quickly over to a coach that is helping with a guy with dark blonde hair. His face littered with sweat and lifting a weight that is nearly a hundred pounds. I watch in wonder at the strength the guy produces and see's his concentration in his furrowed brow. The veins evident in his arms as he holds the bar up and bring it in a rhythmic way. Up and down. Heavy breath. Up and down. Heavy breath. It takes him a few more reps before the coach pronounces him finished and I catch his attention with a clearing throat action. He glances my way with a pleasant nod.

"Got anyone willing to train with sparring? I need work. ANyone whose experienced and willing to teach?" I ask him. I left it open. He could pick anyone in the entire gym at this moment. I could only hope, that whoever it is, I won't regret it.

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I’ll show them all the very reasons to fear my name...

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The smell of sweat lingers on my body and that of many others as I sat down for a water break, letting the cool water from the bottle drizzle into my mouth and down my throat. With every gulp I had taken, I began to feel more relaxed and more refreshed, as if I had been replenished with a new found energy. The water was sweet, comforting, and coursed through my dried up mouth, salivating it once more.

As I sat on the bench, a towel in hand as I wipe the sweat from my face, I begin to look around the room cautiously, as if expecting someone to sweep in and grab me, and take me to the hunger games where I will be forced to fight. That’s what we’re preparing for right? We’re preparing to kill others for the general wealth of ourselves and District 2 as a whole. Maybe that’s how we became one of the Upper class districts- by plundering those under us whenever we got the chance. But I went along with it, at least for now. After all, father expected nothing less of me then to cater to his every desire as his eldest son. Whatever.

I was still out of breath, though I got up with uneasy steps. I was lightheaded from running 5 miles non-stop. In fact, it was one of the most brutal things that I had ever come across on my career training. And the thought of having to do it again next week made me sick. With a shaky breath, I called out to coach who was now talking to a girl. I wasn’t sure who it was at first, but with every step her face began to come out as one I recognized.

It was Kyanite Ruze, one of the most advanced students when it came to certain areas. She was exceptionally talented, but at the same time I found her irrational, irritating, and overall just annoying. And that was what made her so attractive.

Sure, Ashton had flirted with her a few times here and there, but he flirted with every girl. It was nothing new, really, just a guy being a guy, really. But, at the same time, it was fun to mess with Kya, which was the nickname I had given her when we met about a year or so ago in this very gym. I rolled my eyes as I approached Kya and the coach, though it was directed at Kya, I wasn’t sure if she saw the toll she had taken on my eyes.

“Ashton, would you be willing to spar with Kyan-“The coach never got a chance to finish his sentence, for I had cut him off midway through.

“Yea, sure, I’d be happy to,” I responded after giving a seductive wink to Kya, walking past her and to the rack in the back of the gym which held various weapons of different sizes. After observing the weapons for a moment, I picked up an ordinary sword, for that was what I specialized in- sword fighting. I’m not sure if it was a gift by birth, or just from the strict training I’ve received as a kid, but it was definitely something along those lines.

Walking back, I raised an eyebrow at Kya, before speaking up in a questioning tone.“You ready?”

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Facing the line...

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The trainer's reactions to my question was seeming to be forever long. His thought process somewhat clouded as I watched him look around the room. That was also the moment, that I began to look around. Noticing who was here. Some of the people I knew, yes, but others I have never spoke to before. I still wonder, letting my heart thump wildly, waiting to see who he would put up against me. To make me spar with for my need to fight. To train. My will to learn as much as I can against anyone. And I mean absolutely anyone. So, when my eyes suddenly stopped on this guy walking toward me, I felt my body suddenly turn cold. Like, I had been doused with a bucket of water. From my head to my toes, I was surprised that I didnt begin to shake. Instead, I wrap my arms up in front of me the more the guy came into view. His name was Ashton. It didn't take me long to figure that one out. Only he would have that gait when walking. The dark hair that was perfectly placed. His tall and muscles arms being the first thing I noticed about him so many times. He seemed to realize his gifts as well.

I have seen him spar. I've seen him work with endurence and a few others things, but there was something about him that was daunting to be around. Maybe he was cocky? There was something that I just couldn't stand about him. Maybe there was some reason that I hadn't come to terms with when it came to being around him to make me comfortable. We'd exchanged some words before, but to have a full conversation? Never in my life. So, the moment when he was walking over to me, I now had a new wish. Please, don't pick him, coach... Please... don I barely even finished my wish when the coach came out with the question. When he said his name and then at the end of the sentence when he started to say my name, Ashton volunteered like he was a real career at the reaping. Like he was just oozing with enthusiasm to volunteer to be her sparring partner. The only reaction that I gave him was one of total bordom with an eye roll.

Yea, sure, I'd be happy to. His words boiled out of his mouth and set somewhere deep within me that I felt like expelling the sudden bubble of heat. When he gave me that look, I turned away from him and he allowed himself to disappear to the weapons area. I felt a sense of dread and hope at the same time. The dread that I was going to have to actually come to him with skin to skin contact most likely, then the hope that I wanted that to occur. Confusion set up in me in more ways that I could think. I looked at the coach with a pleading look.

"Anyone else, you got?" His face seems stern with me. Gives me a shake of his head as the student he was coaching gets up and he follows the kid to the next station. I was left alone. Left high and dry with Ashton as he suddenly returned with a sword in hand. I made an audible heavy breath and an annoyed voice. "Yeah. Might as well, get this started! Don't take it easy on me, you hear?" I told him and shoved my way past him, letting my arm graze his gently as I passed him up.

"Wonderful. I get stuck with the guy who known for flirting with every girl in town... " I say as I walk away from him with a bit of venom, but is it really the bad kind? Or do I secretly hope that he might show me more than that? I shake the thought from my head. I end up at the racks looking at the weapons that are placed in order. The blades in one area, the other weapons lined up beside them. I stared at them wondering what the best weapon will be going up against a sword and come to the conclusion that I needed to fight fire with fire. I reach for one of the swords and let the hilt form to my fingers. I turn the sword around then circle it in mock form of the shape of a ball. The sword then comes to a rest, pointing toward Ashton as I flash him a coy smile. "Ready when you are, Mr. Reese. Where shall we get started?"

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I’ll show them all the very reasons to fear my name...

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The woman was that of a venomous snake, waiting for the perfect time to strike as it examined every trait of mine that I had to offer. Though when would she strike? When would the snake bare its fangs and seep it’s venom into my skin? No matter when she struck, I would be here waiting to combat her, and fight her every move. With a somewhat bored glance I simply observe the girl as she makes her way over to the rack, a smile creeping onto my face. This might be a good day after all.

The sweat still dripped down along my back and on my face, though the fatigue was starting to leave my body. I would not have to catch my breath, for I already had, and so I waited. I waited for the girl with the burning passion, (yet still very annoying,) to return to me so that we could begin our spar.

All I did was watch her as she observed the weapons, and I observed her. Was someone else observing me? It was almost like a cycle of eyes that would never end. Sure the Capitol was probably observing me. As fortunate as we are here in D2, we’re never safe, no matter what, and that was somewhat of a scary thought to be completely obvious. I gripped my sword tight, knowing I was not safe anywhere I went, especially with this girl standing in front of me.

As the girl made her way back, a somewhat exhausted sigh escaped my lips. It seemed to be rather loud and overdramatic, but it was just me mocking the girls attitude. She had an aura about her that sort of screamed ‘Kill me now’, and that was what made it rather funny. Ashton was put in a situation where he could possibly humiliate this girl in front of her friends. Who knows, anything is possible in Panem. After all, isn’t the whole point of being a District 2 career to humiliate others so that you shall remain victorious? That’s what I thought it was, but maybe I was wrong after all, considering I’m one of the only one who would take pride in doing that most likely.

Besides, it isn’t even likely that I would take pride in doing it, I would just take pride in doing in to Kya. Overall, she was a great fighter, just rather annoying. She took things to seriously for my liking. To put it bluntly, her personality was annoying.

As I watched her approach me, she blurted out rather rudely, "Ready when you are, Mr. Reese. Where shall we get started?" It kind of ticked me off how she went around being all prissy and such. What had he even done to agitate her the first time they met? Joke around? My bad.

“Sure, lets head to the mat,” I had said rather blandly as I began to approach the mat. It was empty, and it looked like no one had used it in a while, which seemed strange to me, considering the fact that this is probably one of the most important factors when it came to being a career. Melee weapons were arguably the best thing to get a hold of when it came to the games, so why bother doing so many other things over and over again when you should be focusing on this?

I mean sure, it was a good idea to change your training every once and a while, but it was also important to choose one thing and stick with it. You would think more people would try and practice with the most common objects found in the arena in the Hunger Games.

“My daddy always said I should never hit a girl, so I guess you’ll just have to make the first move.” The words had rolled across my tongue rather smugly, ending it with a wink as I stepped onto the mat and readied for her to deal the first blow.

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[atrb=background,http://i1278.photobucket.com/albums/y510/LaSaundra_Kiser/postingtable_zps30a9790a.jpg] Facing the line Ready when you are, Mr. Reese. Where shall we get started?

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The words come out of my mouth so easily, but there was the ever so evident truth in the tone that I wasn't exactly the happiest person in the world to be doing this with him. There were so many other people in the gym that could have stepped up but alas, I got stuck with Ashton. I swear to myself, if I make it out alive today without killing him, on accident of course, then I would try my best to check our schedules and make sure the next time I come into this gym, that he won't be here. I give him the first move to take just to make sure he was really going to spar with me. I could imagine him letting me go first, only to have him disappear and leave me utterly flabbergasted that he had just got my hopes up and then to stand me up. That's why, I let him take the lead, as I threw my hand in the direction of the mats and he did so with his statement.
Sure. lets head to the mat[/b]

I watch him walk. I see the way he walks. He's got confidence in his step and from this angle, I tear my eyes away from him and instead focus on the way the weapon in my hand is held. Since the first time I learned what pain was, I learned how to deal with it. Even though my hand fully healed, I still get the sense that at the most inopportune time, something will happen. Whether my hand gives out in the middle of the fight, or if it'll break again, I swear, I won't be caught dead acting like I did when I was twelve. So, with that thought in mind, I grip the sword tightly in that hand. I feel the strength. I feel the muscles tense around the hilt of the sword as I follow Ashton to the mat. My feet keep me steady and I twirl the sword in my hand making a full circle, twisting my wrist to get used to the weight. I glare at Ashton, then my glare turns into a smile at his comment. Words. Words are the make or break of a situation. Say the wrong thing and it could have potentially deadly consequences, however to say the right thing? Could potentially do the world a bit of good. What comes out of my mouth next, is quick. Witty. Then makes me wonder where it came from.

"You know Ashton? I though it was the guy that was suppose to make the first move? Or do you not do things the old fashion way? Pity." I say, something lingering on my words that could only be described as a sorrowful thing. It is then, that, with his permission already, I lunge at him with the sword, turning my body in a full circle before throwing the unsharpened blade in his direction. I wonder if he'll be distracted by my hair swirling around in the air as I turned or by the first move I made that I see other people just attack straight on. What method will he use to block me, or will I ultimately get my peice of flesh today? My thoughts all run through me with so many questions that the time seems to have halted. Closer and closer my blade becomes to his body. Right before it hits him, I feel anxious.

Block it, you idiot... I scream at myself.

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I’ll show them all the very reasons to fear my name...

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"You know Ashton? I thought it was the guy that was supposed to make the first move? Or do you not do things the old fashion way? Pity." The sentence had practically knocked Ashton off of his feet within itself. Had Kyanite Ruze really just entered a verbal spar with Ashton? Wasn’t he already going to humiliate her physically in the real spar they were having? Strange how this girl thought she was so perfectly placed in a district of careers. Well, she wasn’t. Then again, neither was Ashton. He wasn’t exactly a golden career himself, you know.

Ashton watched as the woman swung her sword down upon him. It was as if time had stopped, and everyone else in the gym had disappeared. They had been enveloped in a mist of sorts, and it was just the two of them. Ashton hated it. He would probably rip his own head off if he was in a room with Kya by himself for more than a few minutes. The thought nagged on him, and it felt like it was driving him too insanity.

Before Ashton realized it, the sword was flying into his face, and he instinctively shot his sword up in return to block the damned weapon. What was he trying to do, anyways? Watch Kya as she beat him to a pulp? Yeah, no thank you. With a hint of a smile, Ashton watched as his sword gracefully blocked hers, before giving his a slight push to send her sword back slightly, giving him time to parry to the other side of the mat. “As a man I suppose it is my job to make the first move, especially when in the likes of a woman” Ashton began, a smile forming on his lips.

“But we both know that you’re no woman.” With that, the smile on Ashton’s face disappeared, and he could be seen charging forward, his sword gripped tightly in his hand as he swung it in Kya’s general direction, anger flooding through his body. He had to defeat her, it was almost as if he would be shunned by his family if he didn’t, though it was obvious that wasn’t the case. They didn’t even know of the rivalry between the two. Hell, Ashton’s mother even liked Kya. What was wrong with her?

Ashton’s hands were clenched tightly around the hilt of his blade, his muscles tense as he swung down with full force on his opponent. He was a different person on the battlefield compared to who he normally was. The calm and reserved guy turned into a lone wolf when he stepped onto the stage, basking in the sunlight.

I hope this feels good… Ashton thinks to himself as he braces the sword for impact.

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[atrb=background,http://i1278.photobucket.com/albums/y510/LaSaundra_Kiser/postingtable_zps30a9790a.jpg] Why do I spare him? Block it, you Idiot! I swung my sword with earnesty and speed. The weapon feeling so right within my grasp that I can't see anything around me anymore. Sparring with Ashton comes at a price and that price is my conscious. I don't know why, at the last moment that I begged him to block it even if it was just my last thoughts. I truely didn't want to hurt him, but in the same exact moment I did. I'm confused how all of this is always put in front of me when I'm around him. Why is it with him that it sends me into these battles of 'fight or spare him'? The unsharpened blade of the sword flies in his direction, and for a split second, I close my eyes mid swing. Then the sudden force of retaliation comes back at me and I find myself grinning in such a manner that one would think I was actually happy. Then he disappeared from the close proximity and spoke. "Really, is that so... I see no likes of that..." I began, but he finished up his sentence a second after I spoke. I glare at him with a death stare. How dare you not call me a woman? Ashton, your about as far from a gentleman as I can get. Damn you. My thoughts are interrupted when I see him charge at me. My muscles tense so fast, that my grip on my sword is tightened. I pick a stance and bend my knees just a little in order to take anything that might come at me. Ready to move. Ready to dodge. Ready for this peice of flesh that I can't figure out why he has me suddenly wishing to be closer to. For what reasons do I wish to have a one on one battle with him instead of using swords? I want to physically punch him. I don't want this sword in the way, but maybe, I can disarm him. Mind. Set. Kyanite... move! That's the only thing I hear myself say as I watch the sword come down to meet with me, but the sword in my hands shoot upward. The force of the blade making it strike true to his with a loud echo throughout the gym. The shock of the clash sends a vibration through my arms, but I don't dare lose my grip. I hold my sword against his. Pushing hard against his returning strength. A battle of tug of war where I know that we both can't last. One of us will have to give out. The hilt of the sword is pressed up against my body, which in turn is being used to strengthen the sword's push against his. My breathing hitched for only a moment. I give a subtle laugh. "Ashton, what say the loser does something for the winner? A bargaining chip?" I muster in between a shaky breath. A devious smile playing on my lips, as my eyes peer right into Ashtons gorgeous eyes. "You can beg for mercy?" I tease him.

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I’ll show them all the very reasons to fear my name...

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Ashton’s adrenaline had him moving like crazy. This girl should be easy pickings. I mean, this was Ashton’s expertise… Was it Kya’s specialty as well? No, no… Ashton began to remind himself. Her specialty is being annoying. But what was it about this girl that made her different than the others? Was she even different from the others? Ashton’s mind bubbled with questions as the spar raged on, though they were mainly just talking, not even slashing at each other except for maybe once each. They had a somewhat awkward and tense relationship, stripping everything down to the bone as they constantly tested each other’s limits, both to no avail on finding the breaking point of the significant other.

Ashton watched his rival block his sword just before his sword would slice across her chest. It was irritating how she would wait until the last minute to block his attacks, as if saying they were too easy to give a care in the world about until right before they hit, though I guess he shouldn’t judge. He had done the same thing just a couple of seconds ago.

With this thought on his mind, Ashton hadn’t even come to realize that his sword was hung up against that of Kya’s and it was a test of will to see who would pull out first. Ashton was determined it wouldn’t be him, though he knew for a fact that Kya was thinking the exact same thing, and one of them would be terribly wrong, humiliated by the other for the whole gym to watch.

As Ashton’s eyes bobbed about, he noticed various people taking interest in the battle that was only started a moment ago. Sure, there weren’t that many people, and it wasn’t as if there was a crowd cheering for whichever champion they wanted to obliterate the other, but nevertheless, they were still being watched by a few people from various places across the gym. It made Ashton anxious, but at the same time he wanted to prove to all of them that he could rise above the pressure, and that he would make a formidable opponent.

The thought blazed on his mind as he considered the thought of giving in to this puny little girl for everyone to see. Would he get laughed at? Mocked? What would his friends think of such a failure? His friends were loyal and all, but they would always remind him of how he lost to little Kyanite Ruze. And then he had to think about her reaction himself. How would she handle it? Spit on him, laugh maybe? It was kind of silly to think about her having the upper-hand, because Ashton would rather be dead in the Hunger Games than be beaten by Kya.

Just then, Ashton had heard Kya pipe up, her piercing voice slithering into his ear as his sword pushed down heavily on that of her own. "Ashton, what say the loser does something for the winner? A bargaining chip? You can beg for mercy?" Her voice made him shutter, even though she was the least bit intimidating in Ashton’s eyes.

“I won’t beg for anything. Except of course for you to leave me alone after I beat you. After all, the Winner’s Table is meant for winners, not for losers like you.” A dry smile made its way onto Ashton’s lips as he whispered the words into her ear, giving off a menacing voice as he let the words sink in. Though, before she could ponder on it too much, he let out another belch of words.

“But, yes, I would love for the loser to do something for the winner.”

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[atrb=background,http://i1278.photobucket.com/albums/y510/LaSaundra_Kiser/postingtable_zps30a9790a.jpg] Metal on Metal I stare directly at Ashton. His features. His hair. His gorgeous eyes. I appriciate that about him, but that's also something I would never mention and never will. I know how awkward it would be if that ever came out, but I like to look at his eyes. There's so much life in him and I often wonder why it is that we have this kind of strained relationship. Because he acts all macho. He thinks he's the bee's knees and he has no faults. The stupid git. I swear.. how can someone look so good, be so incredibly horrible. Life is cruel. Life is so terribly cruel. My mind reels with thoughts about him, but I don't dare wander from the task at hand. Our duel. Our little get together between blades. Once again, of all people, I get stuck with him. I feel myself sigh the longer our blades are pushed up against each other. We are equally matched with strength, almost. I feel his blade start pushing more against me. The hilt of my sword pushing against my body as I begin to formulate a plan. To pull a switch-a-roo. To somehow get behind him and use the sword to make a mark against his back, but how? My foot moves back a mere hair the more he pushes. I can feel the strength in his body. Feel how he can overpower me if he wanted, but is he toying with me? I have no problem suddenly moving out the way and letting him stumble, but I'd rather not be mean. The eyes of many are starting to watch as I see what he was looking at. Sword fighting is exciting to watch. Exciting to witness and fun to participate in. That's basically one reason that I find myself enjoying this. Long range weapons are my favorite, but this kind of spar is one of a kind. Not to mention, a sword fight against Ashton. I feel elated. I ask for a bargaining chip against him. One that I know will raise the stakes of this battle. Between Ashton and I, I begin to wonder who will win? What I just got myself into. Wondering to myself what he exactly plans on doing with the stakes I just placed for the loser. I definately don't want to be the one to gain my own death sentence, so I need to step up my game. "Me, too. All I got to figure out, is if I want you to lose the next battle in front of the whole gym or just in front of your friend. Choices, choices." I mock him. Throwing my words at him with such venom to get back at him for calling me a loser. I don't feel like that will be me today. There's no way in hell that I"m going to give up or give in so easily. Once again, the battle of tug-a-war is straining my legs, so I felt the need to change up the pace a bit. I dart to the side, letting the sword fall downward, letting him deal with my sudden disappearance as I take just a step behind him, and let the edge of the sword poke into his back. "Hmm.. seems that I may have you my dearest, Mr. Reese. What will you do now? Hmm? Fight back. Put your hands up and give in? Tell me... what was it that you were going to have me do if I was to lose?" I was curious. I had to know. I lost concentration for one second as I asked the question. The sword no longer being held so tight within my grasp, but it still pushed against the skin of his back. I grin a devilish smile. Waiting to see what he would say or do next.

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I’ll show them all the very reasons to fear my name...

---

Kyanite Ruze. What an odd name, but it fit her nicely. It was simple, innocent, yet also deadly. Unfortunately, Ashton had completely forgotten to recognize the deadliness that lay inside of Kyanite, for he was just unmistakably embarrassed by her in front of his peers. At first, it was simple. Ashton listened intently to what Kya had to say, pretending to care as the swords remained deadlocked. Her words were venomous, yet once again simple. Did they mean something to her? They meant nothing to Ashton, all they did was pack a heart-ache and a kick in the gut.

"Me, too. All I got to figure out, is if I want you to lose the next battle in front of the whole gym or just in front of your friend. Choices, choices." Ashton raised an eyebrow, before letting out what appeared to be something of a laugh. “Wait, do you consider yourself to be my friend? We’re not friends. We never were, you hated me from the beginning. You always hated me, you picked me off as if I was nothing. Nothing.” Ashton’s voice trailed off, as if he couldn’t even finish his sentence. The cool and collected career was at a loss of words, and in response to his signs of weaknesses, he clenched his sword tighter, and pushed just a little bit more with an aggressive stature, and he appeared to be knocking the girl off her feet- well, not quite.

Before Ashton had even realized it, he was face first on the mat, the whole gym snickering in response. Had he just fallen for the oldest trick in the book? She had maneuvered out of the way, causing him to exert all of his energy face first into the uncomforting floor!

As he rolled over on his back, he realized he had come face-to-face with Kya’s dulled sword. It was dull, but deadly. Just a second ago, he was about to break down, and now she was about to humiliate him. I guess I deserve it, Ashton thought. What goes around comes around, I suppose. It just doesn’t seem right…

Ashton said nothing, he just stared at the girl in front of him who had just about defeated him in a duel, only a moment after it had begun. How would father feel about this right now? Would he cackle? Shake his head? Call him rude names? Ashton had always told him he was one of the best, and I suppose it was true, it’s just sad now that this... this girl has defeated him so easily.

"Hmm.. seems that I may have you my dearest, Mr. Reese. What will you do now? Hmm? Fight back. Put your hands up and give in? Tell me... what was it that you were going to have me do if I was to lose?" Ashton said nothing, for there was nothing to say. All Ashton did was look up at the girl in front of him with his large eyes, as if he was actually sad. As if he actually felt defeated, and for a moment he just sat there, letting his feelings hopefully seek into Kya, leaving a plant of guilt.

And then it came so sudden. After what seemed like an eternity, Ashton extended his arm, grabbing hold of Kya’s leg before lifting it into the air, causing her to tumble backwards and releasing her sword as it fell onto the mat. This gave Ashton just the right amount of time to clasp his sword firmly in his hands and rise up from the dusty floor. With that, he placed one of his feet on Kya’s stomach, holding his sword to her neck.

“Not quite yet.”

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[atrb=background,http://i1278.photobucket.com/albums/y510/LaSaundra_Kiser/postingtable_zps30a9790a.jpg] Meeting the mat I can't help but look down at the image of my adversary. My training sword in my hands. The edge of the dulled sword poking straight into his back. The people that have come to watch, I feel their eyes on me. Their eyes on him. I wonder what their thinking. I've had to prove myself worthy of praise since my poor example of weapon sparring when I was twelve. When I was so inexperienced. How I had left myself open and suddenly found my hand shattered by the hilt of my opponents sword. I have worked hard to make sure to get that image out of people's heads through training, practice and marksmanship. However, the more I stand infront of Ashton, I feel like everything is going to go out he window. There's no playing fair with him. I can't. I have to beat him at his own game. I used my own voice against him. Used my words to the point that the people around me could hear and I wanted to hear the answer he would give me. What was you going to have me do? What unearthy task would you tell me to do, if you were in fact able to defeat me today in our little sparring match? I wait for an answer that never comes. Instead, he stares at me. Hopelessly. His gorgeous eyes shining bright, right up at my own. I don't return the soft gaze he's throwing at me. What kind of expectations was he wanting? He looked defeated, but he didn't throw his hands up. He wasn't asking for me to stop, even though we only just began. No. He was just laying there. I glare at him and then he moves. I swing the blade of the sword but the moment I make a move to swing, he dodges somehow, but his target isn't to move out of the way, it's to grab my leg and I suddenly find myself falling backwards. I'm so stupid. How could I just leave myself open like that... The moment I fall, I feel the mat against my back. A dull thud against the back of my head sends my vision spiraling and I close my eyes from the unwanted feeling. The next moment when I look up, I see Ashton standing over me, then a heavy foot on my stomach. I groan, to let him know I wasn't liking where he had me. The sword pointed right at my neck. I hate this position. I don't like that I was so easily distracted by his movements. My dad will have a fit! Looking to my left, I see the small crowd of careers as they talk amongst themselves. Is my predicament that grave? When he's left himself completely open? I smile up at Ashton. "I would have to say, I never thought I'd be in this position with you, Mr. Reese." I tell him, my voice coming out with a playful tone. I still feel my vision wanting to swim, but I pass it off as nothing. I need to move cause the next second, I find myself flipping one of my feet up, encircling it around the leg he has on my chest as I take the other one and push against his knee, sending him flying off me. I turn over fast, and scramble for my sword that I lost in my fall. My fingers reach around the hilt and I turn back quickly and rush at Ashton with the sword swinging from the bottom up. Good gracious Ashton. Never leave yourself unprotected. If you are within reach, don't think I can't maneuver my way out of it.

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[Jack Lexington]

MATTHEW DUNHAM

The half decent training session in the small pool at the far end of the training center, that I've opted for because of this weeks spar with Kyanite, is done. I had no other option because she's left me with a sore knee and the only thing I can now do is swim. Everything else is out of the question. I'm not sure whether I want to still feel angry about it or pass it off as accident. Against my usual behavior I actually want to do the latter.
While I change into training pants, black hoodie and woolen hat because of the cold weather I find myself wondering whether she's still hurting as well. She must. I got her good last time.

On my way out I hear two guys, who are chatting at the open gym door about a spar going on inside. Since I always want to know who I might go up against and what their fighting style is I drop my duffel bag at the door and hobble in as well just to lay eyes on that same female career, who had been training with me. Kyanite.
This time she's up against another guy with a sword. The dark haired fellow looks familiar but I've never really talked to him. One thing I can tell iimmediately is that he plays fast but fair. That won't win him the pot!

Crossing my arms over my chest I lean against a pillar on the side. "This is going to be good."
After all she claimed to suck at close combat. And she wasn't kidding.
Just when I arrive she falls flat on her back and looses her sword just to get stomped in the chest. The tip of the sword pointed at her neck, ready to kill. Defeated!
Judging by what I know about her she won't just throw the white towel though.
As predicted she jumps back up and starts to attack. That woman is actually dangerous. She doesn't give up even in seemingly dead end situations.
For a moment our eyes meet...at least I thought so. Briefly I nod at her. The last thing she needs is distraction though.

[Parks]

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I’ll show them all the very reasons to fear my name...

---

Ashton had thought victory was assured. Everything was going so smoothly, and he had seemed to have beaten her. But then out of the blue the girl, the puny little girl had managed to push him off of and onto the floor, which he had done to her just a moment ago. How did this look to everyone else? It was as if they were taking turns falling on the mat and climbing up on each other. It was stupid and inconsistent.

“Didn’t you hear me?” Ashton called out to her as he lay on the floor. His defeat seemed imminent, and that was what was so embarrassing about the whole thing. How had he managed to fail so utterly hard? And now he would have to accept that he just lost to a girl who had beaten Ashton at his own specialty. What a waste of a career.

But, it was then Ashton had noticed his sword was still in his arm’s reach. It had been smashed out of his hand during his plummet to the cold, hard mat, but luckily it hadn’t fallen too far away. In one last effort his managed to grab it and bring it close towards him.

“No? Well I said...” Ashton began with a grumble, just as he brought the hilt of his blade to Kyanite’s face, as it smashed against her nose, (possibly breaking it,) and sending her flying backwards. “Not just yet.”

A smile let out on Ashton’s face as he stepped one foot on each of her arms so she couldn’t try anything. He made sure he held his balance, whilst holding the sword right up against Kya’s face, which was now trickling a small amount of blood due to Ashton smashing the hilt of his blade to her face. He couldn't help but give a wicked grin.

“Now let’s talk about that little deal we made...”

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[atrb=background,http://i1278.photobucket.com/albums/y510/LaSaundra_Kiser/postingtable_zps30a9790a.jpg] Painful words I am quicker than ever when I knock him back off of me and I see him fall to the ground. The people around me I can see their approving looks. It elates me enough that I feel confident that this will be the last time he stands. The last time he tries to mess with me in a spar. I grin at him. I bring the sword swinging and think about how I noticed Matthew only moments ago staring at our spar. Its enough that I want to make sure that I do enough to show him off. That I'm not just good at sparing with him; to be able to hold my own. I take the sword quickly and slash at him from the ground up, but he dodges me somehow and in a slow motioned form, he grabs his sword back that fell just a few inches away from him. Moment after moment, I lose track of what's going on the moment he pulls his sword next to him and he's thrusting the hilt of the sword into my face. SEaring pain envelopes my nose causing my vision to black out a moment and the force he used sent me back landing hard, once again with my head hitting the mat. Not just yet. What the hell just happened? How did he? That's a cheap shot... that's not even fair... karma is a bi**h. You'll get what's coming to you later, AShton. The thoughts run through my head for moments at a time until I feel the weight of someones shoes stepping on my arms. The dark haze that took over my vision starts to clear as a foggy image of Ashton comes to my sight. His body standing over me. HIs feet pressing heavily on my arms. It hurts. My nose. The back of my head. My arms. It's all so overwhelming. I've faced pain before, but that does make it any easier to deal with in large sums like this. I moan as I close my eyes again and try to move my arms and release them from Ashton's weight. "Let me up..." I growl at him and sniff through my nose only to get the metalic taste of blood down my throat. I cough a little and groan. "Damnit... let me up..." I try to get him to get off me but he comes back with something else in his words. Something he is now using against me when I was using it as a playful ploy. Now, I'm at his mercy. Now let's talk about that little deal we made... I dread to know what things are swirling around in his mind. The only thing going through my head is a splitting pain, but I don't show it. I stare up at him with a kind of playful smile beyond my harsh words. "... if I remember correctly... it was to leave you alone... or have you changed your mind?"

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[Parks]

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I’ll show them all the very reasons to fear my name...

---

Had he done it? Had he managed to win the duel? It was unbelievable. His heart was racing, for a few moments he actually thought defeat was imminent, and it surely seemed so, hadn’t it? How would it not seem like such a marvelous occasion? He had defeated his most hated enemy, and he had so muh to show for it. He would always be able to boast in her face about how he had beaten her, and how she had thrown in the towel. It was magnificent, utterly magnificent and thrilling in all ways. Never again would Kyanite win in an argument with him, even if she was wiser and much more clever with her words. Never again would she be able to brag about defeating him, for that victory was his and his alone. Sure she put up a good fight, but it hadn’t lasted, not for a long shot. He had broken down her barriers, and oh how easy it was. Well, for the most part.

“Let me up,” she growled at him as he stepped off of her. She had accepted defeat, he could see it in her face. It was obvious, and even she couldn’t deny it. The hostility in her voice had made it so clear that she had come to the realization he was better when it came to sword fighting. Never again would she challenge him to such a thing, unless of course she wanted to get a bunch of bruises and scars just as she did today. With somewhat of a smirk, Ashton extended his hand to help pull her up. As he lifted her off the ground he leaned in to her ear rather seductively and let out an eerie whisper. “You’re only mad because I beat you,” he said as he gave her a delicate kiss on the cheek.

What was that supposed to symbolize? Was the kiss supposed to represent his seductiveness, was he just toying with her head, or did it mean something more? Clearly it wasn’t the third option because as he leaned out he yelled rather loudly, “Don’t try to get too comfortable to me, sweetheart. That was a one time thing, so keep it locked away in your memory book.” Not only had he just beaten her in a spar in front of everyone, but he had also just embaressed her by acting seductive towards her while the whole gym watched, then acted as if it was nothing, and that she was nothing.

As the boy walked off, he felt rather proud, and he made that very distinctive with every step he took. He felt more and more proud as he made his way towards the exit of the gym, and he hoped that Kyanite felt utterly worthless right now, because she should. Then again, if he had lost, he would be feeling the same way. Maybe she can take that built up hatred, sadness, or whatever emotion she was feeling inside of her right now and push it into her training. She needed to if she even thought about volunteering for the Hunger Games in the next few years, I mean, they only had a little while more to practice before they either volunteer or they don’t go in at all.

“Move, please,” Ashton said rather politely as he made his way through the now dispersing crowd. With every step he took, he felt the anticipation building up inside of him. He needed to give one more killing blow to Kyanite, he needed to utterly crush her and what she stood for, along with her reputation.

“Oh, and don’t you dare think I forgot about our deal. I’ll get in contact with you when I find something low enough for you to do.” And with that, he was gone, leaving the now emptying gym and the defeated Kyanite behind him.

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