Recruiting a Master

[*]

"Get your ass back here, Olivia. I mean it, don't make me come after you." A loud, deep voice bellows after the child with dark locks and very youthful features. With nothing more than a simple wave, she exits the house quicky and without worry. Not but ten minutes down the path, does she hear that voice again calling after her and when she turns, she can see the figure of her father, swaying violently in her wake. "Catch me if you can, old man." An angelic voice whispers from those tiny lips as she hits the ground running with sudden speed. The staff in her hand swings back and forth with each forceful push to keep her father from catching up to her. There were alternate plans for today and those plans wouldn't be liked if her father, or her mother for that matter, found out what she was fixing to do. For all she knew, they would disown her quicker than ever if they had found out she wanted to join the peacekeepers. That bit of information would be up to the recruiters if they wanted to get permission or not. It was her life, afterall. Not her parents, though they wanted nothing to do with her until she or her brother did anything wrong. She wasn't in trouble. Nor, was he, to her knowledge. Upon sight of the building, her feet had finally come to a slow walk. Her eyes lighting up as she neared the place she so desperate seeked to get to. The place that she ran away from her father for. The place where she might actually make a difference or at least feel like she belonged. At last, her hand pulled on the door, and positioned her staff at her side as she entered calmly and walked to the nearest table. "What do I have to do to join the academy, cause I'm interested in joining." Her eyes rested upon an older man, mid-twenties at least. With a raised eyebrow, she let her fingers take out the first few uncomfortable breaths as she squeezed the life out of her staff, letting her knuckles turn white in the process. Olivia - d3c82c

[Artemis]

Why did Max always get handed the jobs that required sociability and people-person-ness?

Recruiting was usually the first glimpse of the Peacekeepers most people got, provided they hadn't found themselves on the wrong side of the law first; recruiters had to be a fine balance of teachers, salespeople and bullshitters to meet their quotas. So many recruits doing so many certain jobs in so much time.

Max was not recruiter material by any stretch of the imagination. He was antisocial and brutally honest, and had probably scared off as many potential recruits as some of his coworkers had managed to rake in. Not to mention the fact that he came from a non-Career district and wasn't exactly secretive about his contempt for the districts that held favor with the Capitol.

Which begged the question, why the ever-loving fuck he was here.

Because for some damn reason, they need an officer on hand all the time. He thought bitterly, sitting in the office with a book as he counted down the hours until he could get the hell out of here.

But then the door opened, and Max barely managed to suppress a sigh; if he got one more parent trying to grill him about the Peacekeepers for the spineless child being dragged behind them, so help him--

"What do I have to do to join the academy, cause I'm interested in joining."

Max looked up, coming face-to-face with a dark-haired girl holding quite possibly the most battered, pitiful excuse for a staff he'd ever seen in a white-knuckled grip. The girl in question barely seemed to breach 5 feet in height, probably didn't weigh 100 pounds soaking wet, and as far as Max could tell she didn't look a day over 13 years old.

"First of all," He started, "How old are you?"

The Academy occasionally allowed recruits to sign up as early as 16, but this girl was so tiny and young-looking that he would barely wager that she was even a teenager.

d3c82c - Olivia
45583a - Max

[*]

Poise and attitude was clearly one thing going for her. While she looked young, she clearly had that look in her eye that was anything but made of youth. Her eyes had seen and felt the most horrid of pain in her fifteen years. Her ears had heard the worst of insults and death wishes upon her very body from none othen then her own flesh and blood. Yet, the only thing that really stood out was the white scar on her forehead that said 'hey! look at me. I can fight and survive'. As she stood waiting at the desk, with the guy looking at her like she was in the wrong place, she let her eyes drink in the sight of him. Her mind was already seemingly trying to picture herself in his shoes. Trying to see herself as someone that might be thrown into that position to sign up another youth if only she had the experience. "First of all, how old are you?" She shakes her head almost instantly. "How old do you think I am? Obviously, I'm old enough to be joining the ranks, right? I'm not twelve, therefore, ready to throw myself into the mix and serve the capitol." She bit back, with a bit of a comical tone in her voice. Only a moment later, did she find that the look he was giving her was serious. "I'll be sixteen in a month and a half." She keeps the grip on her staff forever strong and even taps it against her foot a few times waiting to see what sort of remark he would give her. "You do take youths, don't you or do we have to be eighteen or something? Cause I can't wait." Olivia - d3c82c

[Artemis]

Max was immediately annoyed by this newcomer. Ignoring the fact that he had a new Cadet tailing him damn near everywhere and how much he despised being on recruitment duty, his first interaction of the day with a new prospect had him irritated.

This was gonna be super.

"How old do you think I am? Obviously, I'm old enough to be joining the ranks, right? I'm not twelve, therefore, ready to throw myself into the mix and serve the Capitol."

He stared at her a moment, his expression mildly incredulous at the number of words she'd used to not answer his question at all and annoyed that she couldn't just give a simple number. Apparently it took her until the end of her (long) sentence to figure out that the recruiter in front of her wasn't as enamored of her attitude as she was.

"I'll be sixteen in a month and a half."

Progress, finally.

There was a pregnant pause as Max sized her up; not that there was much to size up, god she was tiny.

"You do take youths, don't you or do we have to be eighteen or something? Cause I can't wait."

Max looked at Kaiser, who was curled up near his feet beside his desk; the dog looked back at him and cocked his head as if trying to decipher the meaning behind his master's raised eyebrow.

"We have a delayed entry program for prospects that aren't old enough to enter. Youngest you can be is probably 18."

He didn't actually know off the top of his head what the age limit was, but to be honest he wasn't too interested to find out; this girl was tiny, not even 16 yet, and what he supposed was a staff in her hands looked like it had been beaten, broken and repaired well past its intended lifespan. It was common, though, for recruiters to spar with potential recruits to see if they would make good Peacekeeper material; this girl was the first staff-wielder he had seen in the district, period.

"You a Career?"

d3c82c - Olivia
45583a - Max

[*]

For the first time, her eyes went to something other then the officer in front of her. When he looked down to get approval from the canine, she too, looked at the four-legged animal. A half grin appeared before the officer in front of her told her what was going to happen. Lest, the responce she got almost had her mouth dropping. After the biting tone, however comical, she had given him about being old enough to be in the ranks, her dreams were dashed in one long sentence. "We have a delayed entry program for prospects that aren't old enough to enter. Youngest you can be is probably 18." Her expression literally turned sour as if she'd eaten something that was causing her a small amount of pain to consume it all. Her eyes dropped to the table then to the canine beside of him. The look on her face was one of dismay. Questions were literally littered on her face. Even her stance told more than her face as each hand began to twitch slightly; the left gripping the staff tighter. "You a Career?" Her attention snaps back to the man in front of her with her expression hardening. "I've trained at the center mainly for the use of the staff, but otherwise no." Which would prove to be true in her appearance. Especially since she wasn't as toned as some of the girls that have trained in their many years at the center. She had the upper body strength though, and the control. "So, what your saying, is that for two years, I'm going to have to just be considered... a guienea pig or something? A nobody until I'm recognized as being old enough to matter?" Her left eyebrow raises higher than the right one and one side of her lip pushes to the side, creating a pursed look. A sigh occurs as she taps her staff against her foot. "Okay. I guess, in a few years, I'll be back if I can."

[Artemis]

Apparently, Max's answer had been far from what the teeny-bopper had been expecting; she looked like a pouting child as she turned her gaze downward. Her mouth twitched, and for the briefest moment Max wondered if she was going to cry.

"I've trained at the center mainly for the use of the staff, but otherwise no."

Great. So she was underage and under-trained by District 2 standards. But even if he refused to admit it, Max's interest was piqued by the prospect of another staff user; granted, she was a good 7 years younger than he was, but training from the Career Training Center was a luxury that --unfortunately-- many in the lower districts would have killed for. Max's own training had been pretty minimal; while the Peacekeeper he'd befriended had taught him as much about the staff as he could, most of what he still used and considered effective were moves chosen by trial-and-error in back-alley scraps. With any luck, he might get a glimpse of what a more formal fighting style looked like.

"So, what you're saying, is that for two years, I'm going to have to just be considered... a guinea pig or something? A nobody until I'm recognized as being old enough to matter?"

"That about sums it up."

This was totally not the way to sell the image of the Peacekeepers, but her attitude was quickly wearing on Max's nerves. Did she expect for him to leap up from his desk when she walked in and greet her with a contract and a pen?

"Okay. I guess, in a few years, I'll be back if I can."

Max rolled his eyes at her.

"Did you hear anything I said? I just told you there's a program for prospects that aren't old enough to enter yet." He replied, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms. "If we decide you're worth the time, you'd have Peacekeepers tutoring you in the time before you go to the Academy."

He raised an eyebrow at her.

"So far, I'm not impressed."

The girl's gender didn't bother him; though he wasn't much in contact with his sisters anymore, Max had never understood the idea that women weren't as good as men. His youngest sister, Mitzi, was one of the toughest people he knew; if Papa Heinrich hadn't thrown such an epic shit fit when Max expressed a desire to be a Peacekeeper, Mitzi probably could have joined right alongside him.

"Is that going to be your sparring weapon?" Max asked, nodding his head towards the very battered-looking staff in her hand.

d3c82c - Olivia
45583a - Max

[*]

"That about sums it up." A disgusted look shows on her face. Almost like she was expecting that answer, but then the true realization become apparent for her. Disappointment was also there in her tone. Especially when she claimed she'd try to be back if she could. It wasn't that she was being a smartass or anything by saying that, but merely the fact that she was afraid of not breathing by the time that time came about. In two years, who knows what her drunkard of a father would do. In two years, her brother just might get a little too cocky and finally 'off' her like he planned to if he ever got out of prison. Her future was bleak and this was the only solution she could think of that might be a revelation. Yet, she was cut down. Exiled, pretty much by the fact that she was a few years too young to participate and be shipped off on duty somewhere. She watched as he rolled his eyes. Bored of her already. He was clearly showing her how much she would matter to the peacekeepers even if she was of age now. "Did you hear anything I said? I just told you there's a program for prospects that aren't old enough to enter yet. If we decide you're worth the time, you'd have Peacekeepers tutoring you in the time before you go to the Academy." Is that a slight turn of events? The tutoring sounds promising, but still... that look of disappointment is bright on her face. Almost like what he's saying is too good to be true because she'd never get to utilize it at all. With his raised eyebrows, she shifts her hips to what he says. "So far, I'm not impressed." "Neither am I." She clearly states, matching his tone and attitude. Then came something interesting for the first time since she started speaking to this man. "Is that going to be your sparring weapon?" She gives one tug of her head in an upward motion. "Sure is. Best staff there is. Bit old, but it's sturdy. Saba..." She states keeping the grip on her staff ever strong. "What? You wanna spar with me or something? If so, at least my walking down here won't be in vain. A bit of fun sparring with a peacekeeper does sound better than being told I'm too young to matter. What is your weapon of choice?" She persuades him to tell her about his weapon, hoping that he'll not turn her away from a spar as well. If he did, she was going to turn her back on the people of the district and find her own calling.

[Artemis]

Intrigued though he was by the fact that this tiny girl was the first staff-wielder he'd seen in a very long time, he couldn't help but raise his eyebrows at the fact that she had named the thing; it was a weapon, certainly, but speaking pragmatically it was essentially a stick. Apparently her stick (calling it a staff was a hell of a stretch with how beaten up that thing was) was named Saba, which neither made sense to him in the sense of what it was supposed to mean or why she was attached enough to the thing to name it.

Max had picked up branches, pieces of pipe and various other implements to improvise a weapon; the idea of naming one was absolutely ludicrous to him; something only Careers did.

But, then, Careers had the luxury of being allowed to have weapons. Ones good enough to last long enough to probably form some weird sentimental attachment to the inanimate object.

"What? You wanna spar with me or something? If so, at least my walking down here won't be in vain. A bit of fun sparring with a peacekeeper does sound better than being told I'm too young to matter. What is your weapon of choice?"

Dear god you're wordy.

He didn't have time to answer; the other recruiters, a 2nd Lieutenant and a couple of Staff Sergeants, returned from whatever bullshit meeting they had been away for, seeming both surprised and alarmed that they had a potential candidate talking to him of all people. The 2nd Lt., a fresh-faced girl called Devereaux, Max never questioned her motives; she was booter as hell, but she was sharp as a whip. The Staff Sergeants, however, were arrogant from the amount of time they'd been in the service. It did nothing to compliment their already exaggerated self-esteem being Careers; couple of District 1 brats, both of them. Max hadn't fought them yet, but he was itching to the next time one of them starting talking about how awesome his swordsmanship or spearmanship skills were.

"Boss! Finally got one up your alley!" The Lt. smirked, putting her hands on her hips as she regarded the girl in front of her.

Max sighed; so much for the big reveal.

"So that makes two staff fighters in all of District 2." Justinian snarked, putting on his best innocent face when Max glared at him.

"Anyway." Max said, getting up from his chair, "Lets see what you're made of."

The recruiting office was attached to a full precinct building, and it was only a short walk down the hall to the gymnasium where the Peacekeepers on duty could exercise, spar or generally kill time. At this hour of the morning, only a couple other people were loitering around. If it were up to Max, he'd have liked to do this in proper physical training gear, but he'd not thought he'd actually have someone to spar with today. He was, mercifully, in his much looser working uniform (for once); he shrugged off his blouse and removed his boots and socks, standing barefoot on the mat in his white skivvy shirt and trousers. He'd selected a light bamboo staff from the weapons locker (one of only a handful of staffs available- they were a very uncommon weapon in these parts), and spun it leisurely in his hands to warm up.

"This is a spar, so I'm not actually allowed to whale on you." He commented to the prospective recruit (what the hell was her name? Did she even give her name?), "A touch equals a hit; normally we go first to five hits, I prefer to fight until I have a grasp of how well you know how to handle your weapon."

He opted to ignore Caius rolling his eyes at Max referring to a bo staff as a 'weapon'.

"Whenever you're ready."

d3c82c - Olivia
45583a - Max
19e629 - 2nd Lt. Devereaux
ff8500 - SSGT Caius
ff0000- SSGT Justinian

_{Boot/Booter- Someone very new in the military
Blouse- 'jacket' half of camo uniforms
Skivvy Shirt- t-shirt worn under the blouse}

WORD COUNT: 633

[*]

The prospect of a spar with a much older, more experienced person is the bees knees for the dark haired girl. Her eyes lighting up, waiting for his responce but she didn't get the chance. Instead, she's greeted with a few new voices and instantly makes her posture straighter, as if to appear taller and more mature then her own age will allow. She still keeps her weight shifted to one hip. Suddenly, the one woman, whose appearance makes her feel smaller than normal, speaks up to the man in the recruiting station. "Boss! Finally got one up your alley!" She puts her hands on her hips when her sights get set on the young girl. Just enough to show she isn't about to be talked down to, she folds her arms up in front of her, manuevering her staff just so. Max's responce to it is just enough to make her feel like she's really overstayed her welcome, but whose to say she's going to just run away? No, her confidence levels seem to boost with yet another statement from another uniformed officer with something that seems to perk the girls attention. "You're a staff wielder? You've got to be kidding me? Bout time. Seems like we're a dying breed around here." She states, flashing that guy a smirk followed by the raising of her eyebrows in apprectiation. "Anyway. Lets see what you're made of." She don't jump for joy, but her heart seems to beat faster in her chest when given this opportunity. He was giving her a chance to show what she can do. He was, probably not without the others to persuade him, going to spar with her. One staff against another, though, she looked to her beaten staff with earnest. "Don't fail me." She whispers silently to the staff and hugs it to her body. The path is given by following the man somewhere down the hallway. Some five more steps and he's opening the door and entering, making her catch the door in order to go through as well. Her whispered tone only enough for her to hear. "Not much of a gentleman..." Her eyes took in every corner of this place. From the floor to the ceiling, she smiled as she nodded her head in responce to her scenery. "Nice place you got to train." She states as he comes to the mats and releives himself of his shoes and gets a little more comfortable in order to spar. She does the same, only removing her shoes and socks, and stepping onto the mat. Even though the smile had been wiped clean from her face, her eyes seemed to take on a new spark. "This is a spar, so I'm not actually allowed to wale on you. A touch equals a hit; normally we go first to five hits, i prefer to fight until I have a grasp of how well you know how to handle your weapon." "I can handle my weapon just fine. So, you won't be sparring for long." She says, even though that bit of a cocky attitude may as well condemn her. She flexes her fingers around her weapon and let her gaze wander over to the other officer watching. "Whenever you're ready." A simple windmill action rotates around her front then to her back before she sets her starting position with knees bent and far apart, crouching almost. The staff extended outward with the top pointed toward Stahl. "Ready... if you are." She gives it back to him and sprints forward, circling the staff, sweeping it to aim for his legs but comes around with the bottom to swing toward his shoulder in one quick movement. As much as she thinks she's good and her sparring is well done, this guy in front of her will more than likely beat her down just from experience alone. She's mightier than a whip.

[Artemis]

Admittedly, Max's actual combat skills with the staff were rusty; lack of sparring partners and formal training hadn't done him any favors. There was, fortunately, no shortage of time or space for him to practice forms... or opponents to practice evasion on. Though he certainly didn't look it now, having bulked up with muscle since he joined the Peacekeepers, Max hadn't lost his agility or flexibility.

Of course, this wasn't taking into consideration the rather drastic difference in height. Max easily had a whole foot over the potential recruit, and subsequently superior reach. For her sake, he hoped she was light enough on her feet to make this interesting.

"Ready... if you are."

Max shifted back into his stance; slightly sideways to create a smaller profile and holding the staff in both hands, not gripping it too tight.

Ready to move at a second's notice.

The girl moved first, swinging wide to sweep his legs out from under him; Max quickly retreated a few strides out of its way, and once more to avoid the far end of her staff coming up and over towards his face. Her transition from one form to another was good, he could admit that; but her inexperience was showing. It might not be apparent to someone unused to training with a staff, but to Max it was clear as day; her movements weren't as tight and controlled as they should be, to avoid giving him a chance (or a place) to strike.

From his place several feet back from where he started, Max slid the staff in his hands so he could grip the very end of the bamboo and swung it in a wide arc; he let the momentum carry him around in a circle, leaping into the air and swinging the staff up and over his head to come straight down. It was a flashy move, and it would either knock the staff from her hands or drive her back enough for him to get in a real strike. He landed with one leg crouched beneath him and the other stretched out in front, the staff hitting the mat with a loud 'WHAP!'.

She narrowly dodged the staff, but Max wasn't going to wait around for her to react; he tossed the end of his staff into the air, springing to his feet as it turned midair and catching the middle of the staff to parry the girl's in a circle until he was close enough to her hand to knock the staff out of it.

"Point one." He said, "And pay attention to your strikes."

d3c82c - Olivia
45583a - Max
19e629 - 2nd Lt. Devereaux
ff8500 - SSGT Caius
ff0000- SSGT Justinian

WORD COUNT: 426

Fight Science: Bo Staff (reference for self)