Raging Storm [Thundy]

[Noah Vau - D2 (Cato)]

Phenom Firestorm

"Dialogue"
"Hearing"
Thoughts
Narration

Fake blood splatters across my shirt. Each stroke of my sword brings this dummy closer and closer to complete annihilation. Every waking moment I spend is here. I haven't gotten over the fact half of my leg has been lost to some girl all because I got careless. The constant reminder of my prosthetic leg fuels my passion for training. Not one person has been able to cheer me up over the accident. Scar said she didn't mean it, but whether that's true or not is irrelevant. What's more concerning happens to be the witnesses. They laughed at me when I limped away from the fight bloodied and beaten. My pride gone. Now I work hard every day just to get back some small measure of it. That's why I channel every bit of energy into each stroke with the sword. Be it sloppy or precise the sword strikes the dummy each time. Each stroke represents that little piece of pride always out of my grasp.

My arm dangles next to my body. The muscles too worn out to continue my intense training regime. There is always something limiting me. It's so difficult getting to that point where I finally will be happy with myself. With each passing day its getting harder and harder to pace myself. Its been two years since that accident and not a day goes by where I'm not in the training center pushing my body to the brink of collapse. A few times I've been so physically exhausted that a knife felt like it weighted a ton. Still I push myself just to bury the embarrassment deep down inside me. Every time I allow that memory of my leg being severed in half to bubble to the surface my anger increases tenfold.

I haven't realized until now how much I've been gasping for air. My more rational self wants me to stop, but I just don't have the self control to be worrying about myself. I raise my sword arm and strike the dummy or so I thought. If there was a mirror in front of me it would show shock among other things on my face. This minor embarrassing incident only further reminds me of the day I lost my leg. Finally I cant take it and with great difficult, I manage to tip over the table of weapons cutting my hand in the process. Now I'm so full of rage that I don't notice there's someone nearby. I might be embarrassed of myself, but I don't want anyone else thinking I'm weak or pathetic. Nothing I can do to change how I feel about myself, but I what I can do is act normal. Did that person catch my little display?

[Sunrise Rainier D2 // [Thundy]]

______________________

Oh, everyone takes turns
Now it's yours to play the part

She felt the knife slide into her palm and cut the skin right open.

Crap.

Oh, Carrica Tinkham didn't mind the pain, nor did she mind the feeling of seeing her own blood fall from gentle fingertips onto the floor. Pain was something of an old friend, and she had all the bumps and bruises (and blisters) that were typical of a Career who had trained incessantly for years.

Well, maybe she didn't train as much as some people..

There was a dude hacking away at a dummy with a sword in another section of the room, but she was trying to ignore him. Not because he was bothering her, not really; people were always there, doing their own thing, but she tended to notice this guy more than others because he never seemed to actually leave.

(I mean, she had to wonder – did he have a life? Was he okay, even?)

Not that it mattered, because she tried not to acknowledge his existence whenever she saw him. That was the way of the Careers: most people could be considered a threat, and they often had a tendency to be rude and standoffish either way.

Then again, she always did her best to avoid being noticed herself. If rumor started to spread that miss Carrica Tinkham, biggest ditz in District One was actually training? Her entire strategy would be ruined. That's why she practiced with the throwing knives that day; they were quieter than the other weapons, and in a completely different section of the building, hidden away from prying eyes.

Bleeding all over the floor, though..

She tried to sneak over to the first aid area to bandage up her hand, but that put her too close to the hulking Career guy with the sword.

As a rule, Carrica tried to avoid guys when they were violently brandishing sharp weapons.

Not that she was afraid, of course. She wasn't. Hers was a strategy based on defense first, offense later, and the first rule (or maybe the second or third – she couldn't remember) was to avoid the possibility of confrontation altogether.

Try as she might, she couldn't take her eyes off of the other Career's movements. It was in her nature to watch other people and judge their form while they were training, and this guy looked too exhausted to even hold his weapon up, let alone fight with precision. She watched him while she plucked bandages off the table and wrapped up her hand (wondering if she should stitch it up later) but then he was looking at her (shit) with an expression that seemed.. annoyed? (Fuck.)

She might have turned to look away to feign insignificance, but it was too late. He may have already seen her a dozen times before, so the jig was up - it didn't really matter anymore if she was considered weak or deadly; he could think whatever he wanted of her.

So she spoke up.

”You look like you need a nap or something,” she said matter-of-factly, glancing for a moment at the blood droplets staining her arm.

[Noah Vau - D2 (Cato)]

Phenom Firestorm

"Dialogue"
"Hearing"
Thoughts
Narration

"You look like you need a nap or something." Crap. Someone must have noticed my screw up. I guess it was too much to hope that no one saw that. I'm embarrassed even more than usual seeing as my brief display of anger overcame my self-control. I turn to the woman who spoke to me. How much she saw of my display will determine how much kindness I will display. "I don't need a nap. What makes you think I do?" Simple and straight to the point. If she saw everything well I'll be embarrassed even more than I already am. I look at my prosthetic leg. Everything that's wrong with my life is because of said leg. I'm afraid to ask exactly what she might have saw. I'm not so sure I have the willpower to control myself if this woman ticks me off. I happen to be close to exploding with rage as is. If she sets me off she better know someone who can replace limbs.

Payback. Its something I've learned the hard way. I want people to feel the pain of losing a limb like me. Its not fair that most people haven't suffered such nasty wounds like me. Part of me wants this woman to fight me. I want her to feel the pain I felt. Perhaps an arm instead of a leg. I take a deep breath. My blood is boiling with rage and hatred, but not for this girl. Its directed at myself if I had to be honest. I suppose asking what she observed of my outburst shouldn't cause any harm at least I hope not. "How much of my show did you see?" I try to lace the words with as much kindness as possible. I'm unsure if I came across as genuine or not. For now I need to control my temper. Maybe sparring with her will be entertaining. First though I need to see if she sticks around.