open; career arena ] a manufactured carnage

[анзие (Anz)]

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[atrb=style, background-color: dedede; border: ededed solid 0px; width: 420px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 0px 0px 30px 30px;] She's out of place here in her handmade dress and a ribbon in her hair. J wriggles her foot into the ground nervously, nibbling on her bottom lip as she studies her fellow participants. She's probably the newest member of this... club. Is it a club? Or just a place for people to show off how well they can beat other people up? She's joined this place for maybe a couple of weeks now (she's lost track of the days after the first, when she was so easily pinned down by a 'tribute' much larger than she), and the more time she spends here the more she realizes that she doesn't want to be a career. It's brutal. Everyone here acts like winning is so much more important, and J... J just wants to fix their hurts. The color red is far too sharp for happiness. She twines her fingers together and rocks back and forth absently, staring down at her feet. Not that she'll ever admit it (or ever be able to admit it to anyone here; nobody gives a damn, everybody's here because they want to be but J doesn't want to be here - why did she even sign up in the first place?), but J really misses home and her family. She wants to be back with mother and big brother, who'll do the caretaking of her, for her. And in return she can look after them, too. Miserably, she leans against the wall behind her and lets out a long sigh. J wonders how mother and big brother are going to eat without her. On the bright side, there's not been a peep of her self-diagnosed illness since two days before she walked through the front doors of this brutal man's club. That's something to be happy about, isn't it? She forces a smile on her face (and hopes it looks natural - she wouldn't want anyone to worry about her, after all). It's good news that she's getting better. J wraps her arms around herself and looks up and around at her peers. Maybe I should join one of them?

[/color] That's what she's here for, isn't it? Besides, if she wants to keep her health she has to exercise. And the only way to exercise here is to fight - or in her case, be beaten up by almost complete strangers.

"That won't be fun," she murmurs to herself, but pushes herself upright anyway. "But I guess I signed up for it, so I have to try." Come on, J, you can do it.[/color][/font]

I'm thinking they'll know just about everything,
I bet they planned it all out,
Like the shows
Went everywhere I go.
Walked into the store right behind me,
Stood in line right beside me and followed me to my home.
I'm sure they figured it out early on
That I would never run.
That they could shoot but that's not fun,
Cause then they're killing their stolen son.

[/center][/blockquote][/td][/tr][/table]

[Jack Lexington]

MATTHEW DUNHAM

Five days only.
That's how long it's been since Kyanite and I have decided to chuck knifes at each other 'for training purposes'. If you ask me it's really been a demostration on who is the bigger idiot because we clearly should have thought ahead. I though it would be a good training for the pregames but who would have thought that she can hit a moving target that easily out in the woods.
Absentmindedly I rub my almost useless left arm. It still hurts like it just happened but I found out that my pinky and ring finger aren't functioning the way they should be.

"Dunham!" My trainer tears me out of my thoughts.
I look up at him from the long, green bleachers, where I'm taking a break from 'training'.
"It's time to set your lazy ass in motion. What's the matter with you today?" He yells at me from across the gym. I guess he's right. What's the point of just looking good on the bleachers?

I can see him coming closer now so I straighten up making a face because of the second spot where the girls knifes have hit me. My behind is extremely sore. I should really take a break for a week or two but how do I explain that? After all our little excursion was totally against the rules and might get us both in a lot of trouble. I'll just have to tough it out.

"Pick a partner and start sparring."
I nod at him and let my eyes wander around for possible training partners. All the other guys are already working out together, sparring, stick handling...heck no, not a girl again.
Although recently I seem to soften up on girls. Ky's tought me a very different lesson out in the woods after our initial battle. She's shown me how incredibly sexy and sweet girls can be.

"Get movin." I flinch because my trainers voice is so darn loud in my ear. "But there are only girls..."
"Yep."

I sigh deeply as my eyes settle on one of the chicks. She's leaning against the wall and looks a little lost.
So I finally make my way over to her and seize her up on my way. She's smaller than me, petit with an innoccent look. I've only seen her around a few times. Maybe she's new here. She doesn't seem very motivated either.

"Hey." I approach her with a hint of a smile. "Need a training partner?"

Today has to be a very good day as I even offer my hand. "I'm Matthew. Our trainer said I should pick a partner."

[анзие (Anz)]

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[atrb=style, background-color: dedede; border: ededed solid 0px; width: 420px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 0px 0px 30px 30px;] The problem is, in a place like this, picking someone who won't do so much damage. There's no issue with her, certainly, not while she's the one in control, but J kind of doesn't want to get all bruised up. Which she will. Brother will tell me to 'suck it up', she thinks miserably, her shoulders slumping in defeat. I guess I have to. Taking a deep breath, J scans the room for a potential sparring partner. It seems like everyone she might have picked has already paired up with someone else. And everyone else who is available has an extreme height advantage over her tiny stature. On the bright side, though, it looks like all the boys were teaming together, which is good because J doesn't think she's strong enough to handle a boy. Or a heavily muscular girl, for that matter. Or even a girl who doesn't look like she knows how to handle a butter knife, much less a sword. Even if it's because J is reluctant to hurt anyone, the end result is still her being pummeled into the ground. I'm not looking forward to that part. A shout from one of the trainers overseeing the sparring tears her out of her thoughts. J looks over and thinks she recognizes the boy who's being given what looks like a telling off for not doing anything. She thought he was, though, it looked like he was busy waiting for one of the other tributes on the floor to be finished so he can have his turn. At the annoyed look on the trainer's face when it turns to face her, J gulps - audibly. I guess that's my cue to get moving, too. J's about to turn to find a partner (at this point, it doesn't really matter who as long as she avoids the humiliation with the public eye fixed on her) when, out of the corner of her eye, she sees the same boy being told off heading her way. What does he want? (A part of her, and she's not entirely sure which, looks him over swiftly as a potential opponent. Broad-shouldered, check, muscular, check, male, check. J thinks, Nope. Another part wants her to be very, very hostile to drive him away. She doesn't want to hurt him and she doesn't want to be hurt by him, that's all.) "Hey. Need a training partner? I'm Matthew. Our trainer said I should pick a partner." He sticks out a hand and waits for her to take it. Cautiously, she does (expecting to have her hand crushed in the process, but it's probably nothing but a simple shake). "Yes," she tells him dumbly. "Um, I mean, I need a partner. Do you know if who I should fight? I don't really know how to fight." Her cheeks flush suddenly, realizing too late that nothing she said was a response to anything he told her. She stammers, "Um, I mean. If you need a partner. I'm- I'm-" Her cheeks darken to a deep shade of pink, and it's really best that she falls silent. I'm thinking they'll know just about everything, I bet they planned it all out, Like the shows Went everywhere I go. Walked into the store right behind me, Stood in line right beside me and followed me to my home. I'm sure they figured it out early on That I would never run. That they could shoot but that's not fun, Cause then they're killing their stolen son.

[/blockquote][/td][/tr][/table]

[Jack Lexington]

MATTHEW DUNHAM



That petite brunette looks intimidated even just when I approach her. Obviously she’s new and not one of those ‘I’ll kick all your butts’ type of woman. Which is good because today I’m not focused and extremely sore. I could use somebody who won’t go punching all my sore spots.
When I offer my hand she even hesitates to take it and get’s all caught up in her own words, which only make half sense so I smirk at her. She seems so insecure that I’m sure she won’t be schooling me. This is for real, not just an act, where a girl pretends to be weak and then lashes out.
“Are you sure you’re right here?” I raise a brow and motion for the soft mats that are distributed along the left wall of the gym.
My walk is as even as I manage with a ´right butt cheek that has a 9 inch cut in it.
When I reach the mat I bend down tot ake off my shoes since I don’t want to be kicking her in the face with the sole but even that makes me grimace.
“If you don’t mind we can just do a few easy exercises to warm up. I’m a little sore today.”
Out of the corner of my eye I catch two other guys going at each other at full speed. I’d love to do that but I can’t today.
Once we’re both on the mat our ‘neighbor’ calls over. “Put her on the mat.” They all know I love showing girls up.

[анзие (Anz)]

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[atrb=style, background-color: dedede; border: ededed solid 0px; width: 420px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 0px 0px 30px 30px;] This is an uh-oh moment all by itself. Mostly because the boy, Matthew, is going to hurt her and she's really not looking forward to it. (She feels like she might just burst into tears then and there out of sheer helplessness of her situation - there's nothing she can do now, not when she's already agreed.) It's only been ten seconds and he's already amused by her - and not in that good way where everyone laughs along with the joke. J shrinks back from him, feeling just a little more downhearted than she was a minute ago. I guess he's not going to be a friend. It's kind of depressing that she can see this from a mile away. “Are you sure you’re right here?” Matthew nods towards the sparring section and J bites her lip. I can say no. "I'm fine," she whispers, but he's already gone. She should really just not follow him but her body is moving and not of her own accord. Matthew walks ahead of her, heading for the training mat (hah, an unintentional pun right there, that should be something to laugh about, right?) J notices him taking off his shoes and hastily goes to do the same - she supposes it's for the best, because otherwise their shoes might hurt soft parts of their bodies. His feet look like they might be able to do about as much damage as his shoe, though. I might as well suck it up. “If you don’t mind we can just do a few easy exercises to warm up. I’m a little sore today.” Matthew doesn't look like he's sore at all; at least, not to her rookie eyes anyway. She nods anyway - she should probably keep an eye on him and see how he does his exercises, because she doesn't know how to do her own. I'm going to be fighting in a dress, too. It's going to get wrecked. Suck it up, J.

[/i]

A jeering voice calls over, “Put her on the mat.” J flushes crimson and hugs herself nervously. I can do this, I can do this.[/i] She's screwed. Get the exercises over with first, we'll cross that fighting bridge when we get to it. Taking a deep breath, J throws herself into the warm-up (and thinks she does much better for following someone rather than being at the front of the class just because she's short, not knowing what to do with her arms and legs at all).

That done, she rubs her already aching arms and looks nervously at her new sparring partner. "Um, should we start?" she asks, but what she really wants to say is, Please don't hurt me.

She's only a little bit panicked for the session starting, even though it's at her call. Frantically, J attempts to recall any fighting techniques she was probably taught in training school. (For some reason all that comes to mind is a big round pastry.) Then, miraculously, a glimmer of a memory: standing with her arms held up close to her face, legs spread for balance - lunging to hurt. Don't hurt them. It's all she has, so she follows through.

Her punch is weak, half-hearted, and she flinches back from the potential impact much more than probably even Matthew will. (She's breathing too fast for this, the room is spinning a little bit and she's scared.)[/color][/font]

I'm thinking they'll know just about everything,
I bet they planned it all out,
Like the shows
Went everywhere I go.
Walked into the store right behind me,
Stood in line right beside me and followed me to my home.
I'm sure they figured it out early on
That I would never run.
That they could shoot but that's not fun,
Cause then they're killing their stolen son.

[/center][/blockquote][/td][/tr][/table]

Let me know if you wanted an in-depth training thing! I skimmed because I figured it'll be really slow, but it could be for them to get to know each other if you wanted. C: Let me know, like I said.

[Jack Lexington]

MATTHEW DUNHAM

I'm not sure why this is girl is wearing a dress but if we really spar I cannot guarantee that it will stay the way it is right now and she won't suddenly be exposed. Maybe she's really new to this. But who starts training at the age of 16, 17 or whatever she is.
I can tell she's not comfortable but neither am I. After all I'm facing yet another chick here. I've schooled a couple before, I'm sure I can repeat that.

With my arms raised slightly I start moving in a circle around her. My left arm hurts as soon as I ball my hand into a fist, yet I'm not willing to let it show because the coordinator has been asking around who went beyond the fence. I don't fancy being detected, so I'll have to suck it up.

"Um, should we start?" Her posture and tone give away just how insecure she is so I drop my arms. "You've done this before, right?"

Her arms come up...way too far apart for cover...as she places her bare feet a little further apart.
She comes at me with a punch that's as forseeable as Christmas. instead of following it through she pulls back her fist before it could possibly connect with my face.
I barely have to duck to evade that weak punch. That leaves me to shake my head with a doubtful. "really?" I'm starting to get the impression this is just an act she puts on. Damsel in distress or sth. her breathing seems way too rapid. Well, let's put her to the test.
Briefly i cast a glance at our trainer who happens to look our way so I reach for her extended arm without even looking, pull her closer and trip her with my left leg. Needless to say she comes tumbling down on the mat. So I place my flat hand on her back and wonder whether I should simply twist her arm behind her back or wait for some sort of come back.

Behind me our trainer has crossed his arms and is watching our actions with interest.
"You'd better start putting uo some resistance now..." I advice her.

OOC: Sorry, pic's too old but perfect for the situation.

[анзие (Anz)]

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[atrb=style, background-color: dedede; border: ededed solid 0px; width: 420px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 0px 0px 30px 30px;] In a blur of motion too fast for J to follow, there's some semblance of horrible pain. (It came like she thought it would, but not from the source she thought would give it.) It doesn't come from where Matthew grabs her - not most of it, at least - or where she falls to the soft mat beneath their feet. It's in her head, it's all in her head, like someone's dropped a blunt blade on her head in an attempt to split her in two. It hurts and she struggles against his hand, fear rising like a whirlwind to choke her breath. And there's a struggle she makes no sense of, not with her eyes blurring and her vision darkening and she realizes that something is about to happen but she doesn't know what. It's in my head, isn't it? I'm sick again. She's sick again and that scares her more than the situation she's currently in. I don't want to hurt anyone, she tries to say, her lips moving soundlessly. She can't see if Matthew sees, but she hopes he does. Don't let me hurt anyone. Her breath hitches in her throat. Matthew speaks, and to J's ringing ears it's like a thinly veiled threat: “You'd better start putting up some resistance now.” Don't let me hurt. (It's like dying, a gentle breath released like a soul is escaping, only with a lot less drama.) J's body goes limp like a rag doll for moments, maybe seconds. If you touch her now she's dead, she's not J anymore. Loptr turns her head to look up at Matthew. Hello. An impish smile crosses her lips. “Why would I do that?" she teases, low voice a rolling purr. “You do have me at your mercy... maybe you should take advantage of it." She drops her voice only slightly, pauses and laughs. Her body shakes under his hand, then it stops (her face changes into something a touch more predatory), and she twists free. One leg darts out to kick him - Loptr may not be the best fighter of all of herself, but she knows the basics and she knows how to get things done. Poor J doesn't know how to protect herself from a big bad man. That doesn't matter; she'll fix the situation. Loptr backs up from him, then looks down at herself thoughtfully. “One moment, darling." Bending to grab the hem of her dress, with a loud riiip, the fabric tears midway up her thigh. Loptr tugs horizontally along the line, and casually drops what's left of the beautifully sewn skirt aside. Loptr offers him another smile, a dark look in her eyes. How can I play this situation to my advantage? “How about best of three?" she suggests, offering as sweet a smile as she can muster. Without waiting for a response she darts in, feinting a punch to his face as her leg swings around to attempt a roundhouse kick. J, my dear, are you watching this? A delighted laugh escapes her. I've forgotten how it feels to be so fully in control. I'm thinking they'll know just about everything, I bet they planned it all out, Like the shows Went everywhere I go. Walked into the store right behind me, Stood in line right beside me and followed me to my home. I'm sure they figured it out early on That I would never run. That they could shoot but that's not fun, Cause then they're killing their stolen son.

[/blockquote][/td][/tr][/table]

let me know if there's anything here you want me to change~~ And it's fine hahaha.

[Jack Lexington]

MATTHEW DUNHAM



I guess my question was useless because I don’t get an answer to it. Instead she seems to get her act together. That worried squirrel in the head lights expression disappears as if something has just clicked into place. Without any sounds leaving her lips she moves them whispering something that only she can hear.
“What?” I question and watch her eyes meet mine with a much colder look than before. Odd. It’s as if she becomes very different as soon as the fight starts. There’s even a hint of a devious smile on her red lips. It’s that kind of look I hate in girls. It’s that look of “I’m going to seduce you and then kick you to the curb” kind of look.


She's sick again and that scares her more than the situation she's currently in. I don't want to hurt anyone, she tries to say, her lips moving soundlessly. She can't see if Matthew sees, but she hopes he does. Don't let me hurt anyone.

“Why would I do that? You do have me at your mercy... maybe you should take advantage of it." If I didn’t know better I’d say she’s playing with me but she’s too weak to be a player.
“You talk too much!” I remark dryly and pull her arm behind her back a little higher. That’s when she starts fighting, twists out of my grasp, which I let her because I don’t want to dislocate her shoulder. Then she wiggles her way out from underneath me and has me curious to what she’s going to come up with.


“One moment, darling." Oh right, she’s using the girl act to distract me. And does it ever work when she starts tearing her own dress to shreds. It’s actually pretty darn sexy to see her do that.

Next thing I know she’s attacking me with her fist but her dress ripping has mee too distracted to realize she’s faking just to get me with a roundhouse. At the last second I duck under her leg, which ruffles my hair. My left arm shoots up to grab her leg but it slips from my grip because there’s no fabric to hold on to.
Crouching down I grimace at the pain in my left arm from where Kynaites knife cut through it.
Then I reach for her leg and push my shoulder against it to send her off balance. My other hand pushes against the back of her knee to do the rest.
As soon as she looses her balance I ball my fist and hit her in the chest. Pretty hard.
“Gloves are off, ‘darling’.” Here we go. I love a good fight, especially against a girl who should be in acting class.
“Guess you weren't so clueless after all.”

[анзие (Anz)]

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[atrb=style, background-color: dedede; border: ededed solid 0px; width: 420px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 0px 0px 30px 30px;] She doesn't fall but the stumble she makes is close enough. Her fingers skim the mat (one pops and stings, it hurts just a little bit and she feels a struggle in her head again, but Loptr snarls at them to keep quiet). Loptr catches her balance with one hand and balls her hands into loose fists. She's not the fighter. (She didn't expect him to grab at her leg to trip her, but if he's going to play dirty then she should, too. I can play so dirty with you, Matthew.) Loptr watches her sparring partner, gauging. “Gloves are off, ‘darling’. Guess you weren't so clueless after all.” He sounds delighted, too. Viciously so. Good thing J didn't stick around. The fire in his eyes will terrify the poor girl. Loptr, though, bares her teeth in a wide grin. I don't think he knows what's going on. She blows him a brief kiss. "I wasn't aware you were wearing any," she says innocently, propping one hand on her hip. "I thought you were already giving me your all right from the beginning." (If Loptr thinks about it, that isn't really a lie. This is her beginning - J's messy start doesn't really count in a fight.) "Or maybe you thought she was just a sweet little girl?" Loptr says thoughtfully, eyes narrowed on him. "Someone you can take advantage of..." She walks closer, a slow smile spreading across her face. "Did you want to?" Loptr doesn't wait for an answer (patience is not a virtue, not here). Spinning, she aims to kick his feet out from under him. One elbow flies out at his face while her better hand - the one with four fingers that isn't possibly dislocated - reaches to yank him closer by the shirt. (She doesn't care if anyone sees what she's wearing under her dress - it's not like they're all completely innocent, anyway.) I'm thinking they'll know just about everything, I bet they planned it all out, Like the shows Went everywhere I go. Walked into the store right behind me, Stood in line right beside me and followed me to my home. I'm sure they figured it out early on That I would never run. That they could shoot but that's not fun, Cause then they're killing their stolen son.

[/blockquote][/td][/tr][/table]

[Jack Lexington]

I hope this girl can tell I don't fancy fighting her nor do I fancy doing anything else with her. She's one of those attitude swinging, teasing girls, who make my blood boil. I hate them with a passion. they can keep all their seductive talk, lip licking and hip swaying to themselves.

Like that brief kiss she blows me. 'Fuck you.' I glare back at her.
"I wasn't aware you were wearing any," she says innocently, propping one hand on her hip.
That's exactly what makes me mad and she's going to feel it.

"Or maybe you thought she was just a sweet little girl?" The girl tells me and confuses me because she speaks of herself in the third person.
"Who?" I ask because maybe she's talking about Kyanite.
"Someone you can take advantage of...Did you want to?" She asks me as she comes closer and I take a step back and raise my fists for cover.
"You're not my type." I growl at her and take that step i just went back forward again.
Before I know it she kicks at my feet and unfortunately gets the left one where the knife had stuck in my muscle. The pulling makes my thigh sting so i stumble and loose balance just to get yanked towards her. Next thing I know her elbow connects with my mouth, which never feels nice. Immediately I can taste that familiar coopery taste on my lips because she knocked my lip against my teeth.
Instinctively I push my left hand against her arm and when she doesn't let go I punch her...right in the face.
For a moment I freeze because I didn't want to punch girls anymore but this is sparring...so anything goes.

From the sideline out of the corner of my eyes I see my trainer come towards us. He shouts my name and hers. "Matthew, Astra, stop."
Suddenly all eyes are on us but I don't want to stop. I want to hammer my fist in that cheeky chicks face again just to wipe that kiss she blew me out.

"Bring it down a notch." He commands with a harsh tone. "Matt, you're fighting a girl, be fair."

[анзие (Anz)]

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[atrb=style, background-color: dedede; border: ededed solid 0px; width: 420px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 0px 0px 30px 30px;] There's a lot of blood from a small cartilage. From the floor, where she's trapped in a tangle of limbs with Matthew, Loptr reaches up with one hand to touch the sticky wet. Slowly, she smiles to herself. Boy's got a fight in him. I like that. She's about to retaliate when a voice cuts across her motion (her fingers itch to break his jaw). She stops herself to look up at the trainer when he says, "Matthew, Astra, stop." The name irritates her, rubs her in the wrong way and Loptr narrows her eyes at the burly man. "What?" she snaps. Her voice is nasally from the break in her nose but she ignores it. What does it matter? "We're fighting, just as you told us to. Isn't that what you wanted to see?" Loptr shoves at Matthew in an attempt to roll herself free. (She doesn't know if he pulls away or if she manages to untangle her limbs from his.) Sitting up she runs her eyes over the trainer and meets his gaze with a glare. "Two teens of the opposite gender wrestling with each other?" Her lips curl up at the corner in derision, but he's of little interest. Loptr pushes herself to her feet, and gives Matthew a colder look. He looks furious, and that matches her feelings exactly. We'll duke it properly out soon. One hand reaches up to try stemming the bleeding from her nose (it hurts to touch but she's got a sense of poise and rationality). I'll need to get this fixed. Once her irritation has died down a little bit. She'll let J deal with the whole broken nose thing. She's good with that sort of hurt. I wonder how she'll take the news that she tried to hurt someone again. Will she try talking to Matthew? The consequences ought to be interesting. I'd like to watch that. (She eyes Matthew and realizes that he's been wincing like someone's already had their hands on him. She might be able to use that against him - but first, she'll have to figure out where he's hurt. From her attack earlier it looked like one of his legs was pretty much out of commission - as long as she hit the right button.) What the trainer says next irritates her even more. "Bring it down a notch. Matt, you're fighting a girl, be fair." Her eyes flit to the trainer and she gives him a bloodied smile. "Oh don't worry about me. I'm so his type of fighter." She stalks closer to Matt and goes to rest a foot on his stomach. Testing, one, two. He hates her, she can tell. Oh J. Did you think you could have made another friend? I'm thinking they'll know just about everything, I bet they planned it all out, Like the shows Went everywhere I go. Walked into the store right behind me, Stood in line right beside me and followed me to my home. I'm sure they figured it out early on That I would never run. That they could shoot but that's not fun, Cause then they're killing their stolen son.

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[Jack Lexington]

MATTHEW DUNHAM



What I find even more irritating than the trainer telling us to stop is the fact that her nose is bleeding like I just broke it but she doesnät crz, grimace or complain. Instead sheäs smiling. I give her a weird look when she mouthes off to the older man approaching us.
"We're fighting, just as you told us to. Isn't that what you wanted to see?"

Even though I’m angry I’d call it quits seeing how I just hurt her. Good enough for me. She shoves me though.
I allow her to get out from underneath me and try to ignore the pursed lips when she says.
. "Two teens of the opposite gender wrestling with each other?"

When asked to toneit down I simply frown. It doesn’t seem like she’s all about toning it down but I nod.
“Alright.”
The girl has her own opinion on this though
"Oh don't worry about me. I'm so his type of fighter." Next thing I know is that she’s got herbare foot on my stomach, which keeps me from getting up. She’s so testing me. I hold back for a while and give our trainer a look. He just stares me down, testing whether I can reign in my temper when it comes to a girl obviously.
“You play nice.” He advices me and turns away from us.

I look at that twisted teasing smile of hers while she’s looking down at me like I’m human prey, guy prey. “man eater.” I think with disgust.

That’s my moment to slap that grab hold of her foot and twist it 180 degrees until she has to give in or dislocate her own leg.
As soon as she lifts it and stand on one leg only I kick that second one out from underneath her, grab her by the rest of her dress and yank her off her feet until she’s flat on the floor in front of my. Kneeling behind her head I grab a hold of her hair and force her to look my way. I got her exactly where I want that nasty chick.
Then I lower myself until my face is right next to her ear.
“I so want you, sweet little girl.” I whisper in a mock tone before I make a smooching noise in her ear.

A moment later the trainers hands are on the back of my shirt hauling me off of her. “What the heck you think your doing?” My fingers slip out of her hair as I get pulled away but I never take my eyes of her giving her the nastiest look I can master.

The older man pushes me away with more force than necessary. “get out. You’re not training with girls anymore, Dunham.”

I keep my eyes on her for a moment letting her know we’re not done. Then I straighten my shirt and walk away dabbing at my fat lip. “Bitch.”

The trainer offers the girl a helping hand and apologizes. “I’m sorry. I should have known better. The boy’s a loose canon when it comes to girls. Need some ice?” He winces at the sight of all the blood.

[анзие (Anz)]

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[atrb=style, background-color: dedede; border: ededed solid 0px; width: 420px; padding: 0 0 0 0px; border-radius: 0px 0px 30px 30px;] “I so want you, sweet little girl.” Loptr hears a bubble of laughter escape her lips again at his words. Mischief touches her features; she reaches up to pet his cheek and says, decisively, "I think you'll do very well." In the next moment, he's torn off her and Loptr sits up, catching the ugly look Matthew is sending her way. (She stifles a smirk and instead gives him a wounded look.) “What the heck you think you're doing? Get out. You’re not training with girls anymore, Dunham.” Loptr grins at that, feeling the probably swollen skin around her nose be tugged at the movement. Ow. Well, on the bright side, looks like this boy's going to be in deep trouble. Or he's going to be trouble. Either way, she looks forward to meeting him in the arena. Yes, I think we'll definitely see each other again. She could rig whatever it is that's picking the fights... A hand appears in her line of sight, and Loptr looks up. The trainer has an expression of concern on his face; she gives him a dark smile. He says, “I’m sorry. I should have known better. The boy’s a loose canon when it comes to girls. Need some ice?” Loptr nods and tells him, "It's fine, he's just... confused." She offers the trainer a sunnier smile. "I'll see myself to the medical ward." As she walks away, she lets the switch happen (she's in control of the spinning, the feeling like she's tumbling head over heels into nothing, she's in so much control). Loptr allows her world to fade to black as she strides away (as the world teeters as though it's on the edge, as it pitches forwards into a wall-) J barely catches herself before she falls. Her breath comes in short, choppy pants - bile rises in her throat and she gags on the taste of blood. She falls to her knees and her stomach heaves - heaves until there's nothing left. I didn't want to hurt anyone. Tears fall, but she makes herself get up and go. I'm thinking they'll know just about everything, I bet they planned it all out, Like the shows Went everywhere I go. Walked into the store right behind me, Stood in line right beside me and followed me to my home. I'm sure they figured it out early on That I would never run. That they could shoot but that's not fun, Cause then they're killing their stolen son.

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eep shorties.