false hypothesis. sonja x potato.

[k!ah]

[ SONJA ARCOPELLO ]

Practice they said. They said to become better than you re now, to pour all your energy into training and becoming better than the best. Effort you thought as you wandered around the packed training centre. There were tributes everywhere, some playing with the sharp metal things that you knew would slice open flesh like it was, what the capitol called, creamed cheese. It wasn't that you didn't want to get better because you did, you wanted to beat them, to prove to them that you weren't theres and that they weren't you. But you were quite certain that even if you practiced every day non stop until you were sent into that arena you would get no better. That was just the person you were.

Green eyes scan the room for a station that looked to be less crowded than the ones that were aimed at actually killing in bloodthirsty ways. You didn't want to be remind that in a few days you would be the one in that arena, whatever the arena may be, with a weapon in hand and the thought of actually ending the life of the people around you. Would you be able to do it? End someones life? Oddly enough you think that you would, you were weak after all and if the voices told you to do it, you would, you had no Ruby around to try and stop you, you were completely vulnerable to them and their nasty ways. How would other people be looking at you? Would the voices in their heads be telling them that you were easy prey, that by killing you they would gain a great sense of satisfaction? Or were the voices in the heads of the people around you avoiding you, allowing you to fly beneath the radar.

Finally you reach a station that seems quiet, only one other person was in this area. Instantly you recognise him, after all who wouldn’t. He was that Potato guy from D11. But unlike Future, whose name was also slightly out of place, he didn't seem like a prick with an attitude that you couldn't stand- well you couldn't be absolutely positive that his attitude was dull until you actually talked to him, but from what you’ve heard you seem pretty pleased with. He is at the stealth station, a station that you’d like to say that you were good at but that would be lying because in all honesty you were a klutz, you could barely manage to walk in a straight line for Ripred’s sake.

You watch as he tried one of those roll things that would lead you to a crouching position behind an object that should hide you from view. But in Potatoe’s case he ends up half hanging out, his long legs in clear view. You fight back a smile. You couldn't help it because you could see how hard he was actually trying. Smiling inwardly you wander over to him, “so close, but yet so far. You gotta try and tuck those legs in.” As you speak you loin to his legs whig were still hanging out. “Let me show you!” You squeak happily.

[gamemaker kelsier]

I sorter wish that this weren't all hopeless.

It'd be real nice if I could be transformed inter the ultimate fighter in under a week, but I ain't countin' on it. I reckon that half ther folk here cal-que-lated how ter tear me limb from limb as soon as they set them eyes of ther's on me. No one 'specs much, heck I don't neither of myself. I ain't a fighter. I'm a farmer, an' Pa always said that was good enuff fer him so I never thought it weren't good enuff fer me. There are those that fight an' there are those that feed an' I'm the type ter starve for a blind beggar I reckon.

I giss I'll still just try my darndest at trainin' 'cause I gotter at least work somethin' inter my brain 'afore the bloodbath. Fer the sake of Opal, I c'ain't go down without fightin' fer my life or nuthin'. I c'ain't promise her that I'll live but I kin promise that I'll fight.

So's I go at it with great gusto, doin' my best ter do as the trainer says with the stealth she's been tryin' ter teach me all mornin'. If I was her I'da given' up ages back, I ain't no stealthy little bugger, I'll tell you that. I always been a lanky thing, all long limbs an' not much conecshun 'atween them. She's got a certain typa' hunger ter her though, tryin' ter teach me agin' an' agin'. I reckon we both just gonna end up all huffed an' fur-us-ter-ated.

Then a voice comes on from above as I'm sit-u-atered behind a block, but it ain't ther voice of the trainer. I turn my head up ter see where it's comin' from an' I sees Miss Sonja Arcopello standin' over me. She from six, I was seein' her in the recap videos we watched on ther train. She's real pretty, more in real life an' she ain't lookin at me like she'd sooner slit my throat than be talkin' ter me.

Standin' up, I dust off my pants before greetin' her, "Please, Miss Ar-co-pell-oh, I really could be usin' a hand in this, it's mighty kinda yer ter offer."

[k!ah]

[ SONJA ARCOPELLO ]

Instantly you regret your offer to show him- it was not like you didn't want to help him and more like you couldn’t. To show him, you actually had to be able to do it yourself, and you couldn't do it, to be honest your end result might actually be worse than his himself. But when he responds with a Miss Arcopello, you decide that there is no way in hell that you were going to be able to re-track your offer. He seemed so kind- so genuinely kind. So instead of back away and telling Potato that you wouldn't be able to show him apologising profusely, you smile at him, your lips peeling back to reveal a nice set of teeth. (District 6 had dentists, you see, so having nice teeth was a bonus.) You could do this, just think, know what you want to do and go for it. Thats what you had tried to do at the knife throwing station and that had not ended up too well. District one ha gotten involved and you had been left more humiliated than anything else.

But Potato wasn't like that district one, Charlie or whatever it was, was he? Your green eyes study him for a moment longer before you come to the conclusion that it was going to be all right. “Please, just call me Sonja,” the smile that you had worn earlier grows your eyes lighting up a touch as you walk back in the direction that Potato had to enter his roll and crouch thing. You could do this. You could do this- you gonna fuck this up so bad girl, this potato dude aint gonna know what hit him. You should just leave. The voices were back, as mocking as ever pounding through your mind like a nail who was reluctant to be slammed into wood. Its sharp harsh voice makes you cringe slightly. “Leave me alone,” You whisper so that only you could hear it. “I wasn't asking for your imput.”

A frown of concentration slips onto your forehead and you glance over at Potato, something inside you wanted him to not be paying attention, whilst another part was glad to see that he was actually interested in what you were about to do. Taking a deep breath you run, your legs pumping as your feet hit the around at different intervals then you are diving into that roll which should allow you to come up into a crouch which should end up behind the big object that has been placed exactly for that reason. But as you go into the roll you know something is wrong because it is not your shoulder that it’s the ground first but the back of your neck. Perfection had been the goal, the result was disastrous.