Take Me Down {Meghan/Death}

[charade]

It was a good year for district four.

A victor had finally been crowned in the form of Leon Krigal. No longer would the other career districts be able to look down on four. Katrina grinned, letting out a primal shout and hurling a javelin at one of the targets in front of her, not hitting it in the chest like she wanted to, but still embedding it in the stomach. "I need to work on my aim." she muttered under her breath as she went to retrieve the weapon. She had been trying to improve her fighting skills for months now. There was always the chance that one of her siblings would get reaped, and if that happened, she needed to be prepared to take their place. Especially if the sibling in question was Irene. Poor girl was afraid of everything under the sun. 

There were a lot of people in the training center, more than the usual as knowing they had a district victor had infused the populace with a sense of pride; And with the Olympics right around the corner, there was even more reason to train hard. Hefting the javelin in the left hand, Katrina took a moment to glance around the area. Most careers were completely focused on what they were doing, not sparing a moment to do anything other than hone their bodies. But if there was one thing Katrina had learned from watching the most recent games, it was that the mind was also a tool to be utilized, and thus it could be beneficial to get to know some of the other careers. Would be, she thought. If people didn't piss me off so quickly all the time.

Nodding to two teens that were standing in the same general area, Katrina decided to try making some conversation. One was a blond boy that could have been the victor's cousin, and the other a wide eyed girl with shockingly colored irises. Both looked a little younger than herself. They'd do for now, unless she found them irritating. "You two gonna stand there doing nothing all day?" There, straight and to the point. Katrina raised an eyebrow questioningly as she waited for a response. 



[OOC: Death, you said length was daunting for you? I've tried to make this succinct for you as to not make you feel as though you have to match a long word count =) ]

[Death]

S  A  I  L    D  A  W  S  O  N

His father had made him go to the training facility since he came of age to be reaped.

"Daaad," he could hear himself whine. "I don't wanna go. I don't wanna be a career. Who cares if I can fight? I can just win by killing them in their sleep."

A gruff, "You're gonna die, then," was all it took to get his rear in gear and headed over to the facility.

He'd been coming for four years now. Still no benefit for the time put in. If he got reaped, they'd be babes and money and he could try whatever he wanted. He'd win. Maybe. He honestly wasn't sure and he didn't care. The likelihood of getting reaped grew by the years, but the probability was still so low. He didn't let it bother him too much.

He stood, panting heavily from some ax throwing he'd done. Wasn't too fond of the ax, but, you know. Hunger Games don't care what you like or don't like. You get what you get and you use it or you die. End of story.

Ripred, he hated training. Glorious waste of time.

"You two gonna stand there doing nothing all day?" barked a girl.

His head turned quick. Female. Hot in that I'm-so-tough-and-I-don't-care way. Nice face. Not crazy about the hair length. Nice bod. Muscular. Good legs. He liked legs and butts and boobs and hair and--

But too tall. He didn't like girls to be taller than him, even by a measly half inch or whatever the height different between them was. He liked being in control and he didn't feel in control when the girl was taller. She wouldn't be worth the time, unless she had a hot and shorter sister.

"Just waiting for something better to do," he said with a shrug before turning away. He scanned the room. He'd always been partial to nets and tridents (must be the fisherman in him coming out) but he'd practiced with those a bunch. He might try the bow and arrow, but arrows ran out so quickly it almost wasn't worth getting the practice on. Sword work, maybe? He'd need a partner.

[OOC: Thanks, Charade! I really appreciate it! ]

[Meghan]

You're a selfish girl, Aiyana. Today you feel consumed by the thought of victory; but this victory is not your own. All you can think of as you stand brick-still in the training center is the achievement by the boy-who-isn't-you-and-damn't-why-is-he-stealing-your-glory. Who is this idiot they call Leon Krigel? Who is this boy who has taken everything every career has ever longed-for, the chance at that first victory?

No, you do not celebrate the joyous occasion he brings. Instead, you simmer in the middle of the newly inspired career center just to spite him. They aren't screaming your name. They stopped that the moment your peers reached that final battle. You are no longer the worshiped, are you Aiyana? No, they call you to be a devotee. They expect you to feel energized by the victor's conquest in hopes that you can live up to his path.

From now on you can only be second best. If you win, you will only win with him above you. He is a predecessor to your impeding glory, so to speak. And that will never change, for you cannot rewrite time. You can only hope by the time you get around to winning Leon Krigel is shamed somehow, someway. You want to rise above him, above anyone, and to start you have to prove that you are the best.

This starts today, Aiyana. Quickly, before someone else makes a bargain with the crown. First you are going to win the Olympics, and then you will win the Games. Leon never had that much. He has one, lousy victory under his belt and you, you Aiyana, are going to show him up. For good this time.

"You two gonna stand there doing nothing all day?" A voice interrupts your pity-party, and you look up from the hole you were burning in the floor with your green-grass eyes.

"Me? Do nothing?" You can hardly suppress a laugh as you instead turn your glower onto the tall girl. "I am above nothing." The blonde boy to your side responds with kinder words than you, but still you despise him.

"Just looking for something to do," He says and shrugs, like he is better than the two of you. Your free hand makes a fist and you step towards him, your vivid eyes enflamed with cold fury.

"You two want something to do?" You ask, a snarl on your lips as you take the pair of them in. They are weak compared to you, you could overthrow them, you are certain. "Let's fight. Dull weapons so we can't do much more than a scratch. I'll prove to you that I don't do nothing." You wonder if your grandma would be proud. Adrianna certainly would be, but the blonde vixen was nowhere in site. This was an exercise you'd have to fight on your own. But hey, at least nobody could steal your crown this way, right?

You grab a practice sword from a nearby rack and face them. You wonder if they will prove their worth in this little duel. It'd be nice to have more equal partners in this mostly-inadequate center. By the looks of them, however, you highly doubt their abilities.

Bring it on.

ooc: If you need me to switch from second person to third let me know.

[charade]

Katrina had an uncomfortable feeling in the gut. The kind she usually got when she felt like someone had just given her the once over. But, she banished that thought when the boy spoke, saying that he was just waiting for something better to do.  It was about that time that Katrina decided that she did not like this pale haired boy and would rather enjoy smacking him upside the head. Something about the way he carried himself oozed the word "creep". The other career flew off the handle almost immediately, taking her gruff question as a personal slight. Or maybe a challenge.  Vitriol practically dripped from the other girls eyes and Katrina couldn't help but snort dismissively."Ooh. I'm shaking. If you wanted to get soundly beat into the ground all you had to do was ask." She put the javelin back on the rack and grabbed a thick bladed broadsword with both hands.

"You want in on this action dude?" she said in the boy's general direction. It was a practice weapon of course, but it could still pack a mighty wallop. She wasn't sure why the career had taken it so personal, but she had to admit to herself that she didn't really care. Who went to the training center to make friends?  Only enemies and allies could be found here.  "By the way, the names Katrina. Thought you might want to know the name of the person kicking your ass." Katrina faced the other girl, while keeping half an eye on the boy in case he made any sudden moves. The seconds ticked by. Katrina cracked her neck and was suddenly glad that the tank top and cut offs she was wearing allowed for better movement. She cast a smirk in the other girls direction before putting a hand out and beckoning with the universal sign to bring it.



[OOC: Fine by me Meghan.  Just a warning, I probably won't get a chance to post again today; I gotta work late.=)] 

[Death]

[googlefont="Rock Salt:400"]Sail Dawson

        f  l  i  p    t  h  e    s  w  i  t  c  h

Sail looked at these two girls, bristling and threatening each other. Like a pair of cats fighting over a dead fish head. That is truly what they were. One bigger, dark brown cat that was tough because it was bigger because it was stronger and had the louder mouth. Intimidating because she opened her mouth? He'd have to think on it.

The other was a multicolored calico (he liked calicos; nice cats. normally.) that hissed and spit at its own shadow, challenging everything in sight. A whirlwind of hate and hurt and pride and vanity and he was disgusted by this petty little calico that could only think of herself. He could hear it in her voice. The challenge ringing out. The eagerness to prove herself. The intensity of the eyes. The way she held her head high and her weapon tight.

m  o  t  i  v  a  t  i  o  n  s  ?

The fish head, obviously.

No, stupid. The human motivation. The motivation of the humans. What makes them so eager to push into a fight? Why are they so willing to risk bruises in a training match? What is the fish head in real life, rather than your stupid thought world.

They probably don't have a long day of arduous work tomorrow.

True, but deeper. Motivation, my dear Sail.

Well, the first one sounds like she just wants the practice. She's loud. A loud mouth. She projects her strength through her voice and other people see it, I think. Loud mouth probably been part of her forever. Probably brought on some brutal beatings. She'd have learned. She'd be a good opponent.

Other one... she looks like a wounded cat.

"Me?" she says, incredulous. "Do nothing? I am above nothing."

There's the pride. The vanity. The disgusting, sickening sickness. What's the hiding? What makes her feel she's better than everybody? The way she's clutching her weapon and the look in her eyes.

"Let's fight," she says. "Dull weapons so we can't do more than a scratch. I'll prove to you that I don't do nothing."

What other reason for people to desire to hurt others AND prove themselves in one fell swoop?  Wounds. A low self-esteem. She needs to win this. And I don't. I don't give a damn one way or another if these two chicks bloody themselves to pulps. Although, he'd love to knock this little calico kitty off her high horse and back into the torrent of low self-esteem she so obviously battled with. He should know. He'd battled with it in the past. Heck, sometimes still battled with it. Who else better to call out a fake than a pretender?

"That's right," he murmured. He loved double meetings. "You're above nothing."

"Oh, I'm shaking. If you wanted to get soundly beat into the ground all you had to do was ask." The tall one grabbed a broadsword, pulling with both hands like she was tugging a weed from a garden. Huh. Gardening. Gardening was hot. Did she garden?

"You want in on this action, dude?" she asked. "By the way, names Katrina. Thought you might want to know the name of the person kicking your ass."

He shook his head. He had nothing to prove and he didn't have the patience to be baited into a fight. He had work in the morning. He didn't want to be sore. His back would start playing up and that would make work absolutely miserable.

"I've got nothing to prove and I've got work in the morning. Just gonna take over your javelin station."

He didn't want to move too far away, after all. I mean, come on! Two chicks duking it out? HOT!

[Meghan]

There are days when you feel like spitting out insults like they burnt your tongue and you just want to be rid of them. But sometimes, you realize that holding in your inner-bitch is the more practical method of dealing with idiots. Today seems to be that day, for you are facing somebody who is probably just as stubborn as you. A worthy opponent in your spitfire games, of course, but you would never acknowledge that.

You want to call her names, I can feel the words lashing against your teeth as you grit your jaws together determinedly. They see you as weak, you can amusement in their eyes as they stare at you like you are some sort of prey. The boy stares in a way that makes you think he's picturing you naked. You want to punish him for it, but now is not the place nor time. You'll deal with his vulgarity later. Instead you settle for a grimacing, sarcastic smile in an attempt to scare him off.

You bite your lips as you look at the girl again, and you grip your sword with the red-knuckles that come along with determination. Let her take at swing at you. When she does, you'll be ready.

ooc: Death your post made me giggle. I really liked it, it flows really well. Good job!

Charade how much of this fight do we actually want to RP out? I say they should turn out to be equals, neither of them getting a serious hit on the other. Let me know your thoughts! ^^

[charade]

Moving to let the boy get to the javelin station, Katrina found herself disappointed in the quality of the other two careers."Pssh. Suit yourself. And don't think I didn't see you staring."That said, she turned her full focus towards the other girl, not wanting to waste anymore time on a career that didn't seem interested in doing much other than ogling the two girls. She figured she had his type pegged. He seemed like the kind of kid that her sisters needed to never meet.

When it became clear that the now silent girl was waiting for Katrina to launch the first attack, a snort almost erupted from her nostrils. She says she wants to fight and then doesn't make the opening move? Lame. With a shout,Katrina ran forward, bringing the weapon up as she did so, readying for a power strike.The blade slammed down with such force that it jarred Katrina's arm; which meant it had probably jarred her opponent too. The only problem was that the hit had landed on the other girls sword and not her face. It was a good parry, better than Katrina would have expected.

Moving slowly in a small semi-circle around the girl, she tested for weaknesses, or maybe for a blind spot. It was clear from the look in the little fireball's eyes that this wasn't going to be an easy win. But Katrina didn't think it would be too hard either."You got a name? Or are you just gonna stand there huffing like a cigarette?" The last sentence was punctuated with a scoff and she just barely managed to avoid looking at the boy with a "can you believe this chick" eyeroll. Instead, she settled for a taunt.  "Scared of getting beat by a girl Mr. I have work in the morning?" 



:OOC: Yeah, them being evenly matched sounds good to me. I hope I didn't powerplay; I just wasn't sure how to start the fight. Do you think it should just keep going like this, Blocks and misses? You can write in your post that Katrina blocks your attack and we just keep going like that?

[Death]

"Pssh. Suit yourself. And don't think I didn't see you staring."

Karina-- as she called herself-- 

(which, incidentally, he'd named a stray Karina; the poor kitten had a bad run-in with a tomcat, got beaten up then disappeared after having kittens, leaving Sail to feed and care for the poor things before giving them away to some of the wealthier homes.)

appeared to be peeved by the thought of Sail staring at her body. This amused him. It was on display for the world to see. Why not let a poor sinner admire the beauty of her angles and long lines? 

"You're a gorgeous gal," Sail says, picking up a javelin. He's never been too great at javelin "My eyes are naturally draw to beautiful things. Please accept it as a compliment, or tribute to your desirability to others."

He let the javelin fly, praying it would stick in the target.

Please, God, I'm not asking for a bulls-eye. But, maybe just hitting the darn thing?

It stuck, vibrating in an outer white ring to the side, far from where he was aiming.

He turned to glance back at his favorite pair of female felines. The little calico was a hissing bit of fury and the bit, dark short-ish hair was obviously strained too. They were so evenly matched, the calico's intensity making up for her smaller size. 

It was the little ones you had to watch out for. He remembered when he and Harbor were young, Harbor was a tiny, scrawny kid with no muscle to speak of, but the little $#*! always managed to worm his way out of a pinning. 

Part of his brain shoved an image of pinning the kitties, but he pushed it away in favor of picking up another javelin.

"Scared of getting beat by a girl Mr. I have work in the morning?" Karina said.

How she could be fighting and talking at once astounded him. He preferred to live in his thought world, where communication didn't take nearly as much time.

"Nah," Sail said, trying to play off the obvious taunt. "I'm scared of being accused of sexual harassment. I mean, a threesome with two lovely ladies who know their way around a weapon? Sounds kind of kinky, don't you think?"