#Frenemies ??? [Mason and Zeki]

[Will]

.: ZEKI WEBB :.
{district five : 69th tribute}

What could I possibly be doing right now? Because I'm not doing anything and I know that if Patricia saw me she would shout my ear off. Because I should be down here every second trying to make myself a killing machine so I can win the Hunger Games. But the problem is, there's just so much to decide from. Should I work more on survival skills or should I work on my combat skills. I should probably work on my combat. Especially judging from my run in with Marchello. That was truly chilling. And a wake up call. Now I know that I need to work on becoming more deadly and not so much on being an outlaster.

Now that decision doesn't help narrow down my choices all too much. I know I don't want to work on bow and arrows again, although I should because God knows if I end up with a bow and arrow it'll do me about as much good as a knife to my stomach. I don't want to work on throwing knives either, I already did that. Maybe I should work more on hand to hand combat. Or at least something that isn't long range. So I approach the area of the training center dedicated to short range, melee fighting.

This part is the part that scares me the most. Because everyone who's practicing here doesn't even need to. If someone gets into a close range physical confrontation with them, that person is finished. Maybe they're just practicing to beat the other brutes. I'm not entirely sure. But as I near the stations, the smell of sweat and the sounds of grunting become more and more powerful. It honestly makes me fear for my life.

I guess that's also the point. They're here practicing so that I'll fear for my life when it comes time to fight one of them. Because there will be a time when I have to fight one of them. I'm not sure which one, I'm not sure when or where, but I'll have to fight one of them. And I'm praying to God that I can win. Or at least have a chance.

As I'm standing in the midst of all of this brutality directed at mannequins and personal trainers, my thoughts are suddenly interrupted.

{table by zoë}

OOC - I'm so terribly sorry for my disgusting writing but it's late and I didn't know what else to write xD I swear my writing will get better later in the thread.

Cato

[Cato]

"Dialogue"
"Hearing"
Thoughts
Narration

I can feel the sweat forming. I've been here wrestling for Ripred knows how long. I've always found wrestling enjoyable. A true test of strength and determination. I gaze toward my opponent for this wrestling match. A few steps to shake his hand and we're back in position ready to strike. A small ringing noise alerts me that the match has begun. I circle my opponent looking for an opening. We lock hands for a brief moment before backing off. For the moment my opponent and I are evenly matched. Neither finding the opening they seek. The next few seconds are the same. More circling and locking hands. I rush my opponent wrapping my hands around one of his legs and take him down only for him to get right back up. A moment later and I find myself on my back struggling against an attempt to lock me in a submission.

Another ringing noise and the round is over. I don't need to look at the score to know I've lost the round. I swear under my breathe before taking a long drink of water. Few moments later the new round begins. This time I waste no time going after his takedown defense. Within moments, I've brought my opponent on the ground. Unfortunately the trainer knows his stuff and keeps to his stomach. Not letting me get control. I bring my arm across his face with his reaction just what I wanted. He curls up a bit to avoid the arm when I switch my arm from his face to his exposed leg. I lock my hands across the underside of his knee and dig my knee in his side. I've locked him in a submission and a few moments later the referee taps my shoulder to let me know I've won.

I shake the hand of the trainer before turning around noticing another tribute is within speaking distance of this station. Watching me perhaps? Who knows. "Why watch when you can participate? Come on over and wrestle with me." I don't expect the tribute to actually come over here. What I do expect is for him to bolt in the opposite direction. No one ever wants to learn how to wrestle. A good wrestling match is worth being fatigued. I could use some time to myself to catch my breathe and recover, but wrestling this man should be fun. Give me a new opponent rather than these trainers who know just about every move I attempt.

[Will]

.: ZEKI WEBB :.
{district five : 69th tribute}

"Why watch when you can participate? Come on over and wrestle with me."

I turn quickly to look at who I'm talking with. Figures, is the first thought that jumps through my mind. It's the one tribute every other tribute in here is terrified of. Mason. Mason Hammerfell. Even his name fits him. Hammerfell. He'll make a hammer fall on my face is probably what it means. As I get a closer look at him, with his shaved head, sweat covered body, muscles bulging through the training outfit, I wonder how he is even a teenager. He looks older than most twenty-five year olds. He's ridiculous. A small part of me wonders if he rigged the Reaping just so he could participate in the Hunger Games. That actually wouldn't surprise me too much. A Career desperate for a chance to prove himself to his district.

I resist the urge to bolt. Nearly every fiber of my being wants to do that, but I hold myself in place. Am I shaking? I probably am. I don't know if it's from fear or the struggle of holding my body in place, but I feel like I'm shaking. If only just a tad. If I ran, he would never take me seriously. But then I realize that now that I've stayed, I'll be forced to come up with either the world's lamest excuse, or try wrestle him and die before the Hunger Games even starts. Before my brain even begins to compute an excuse, words, words that taste incredibly horrible on my tongue, fly from my mouth.

"Uh...Uhm...Uh...Sure!" The sure was so forceful I'm surprised he didn't fall over. Oh boy. What did I get myself into?

I look around to see if anyone will be witnessing my death, doesn't look anyone will. At least that means that nobody will be witnessing my one true act of stupidity. Maybe not, I think. Maybe I'll wrestle him and get some really good advice and experience. That may be true. But I'm also going to feel like I came out of the worst massage of my life. Because I feel like that's the only real way to describe wrestling to somebody. That and the fact that's it's interactive.

I pull myself up on the platform, not looking into his eyes and then stand where the trainer motions for me to stand. I avoid looking into his eyes as well, because I'm sure they're full of either pity or joy.

I turn to look at Mason,

"Uh...What do I do now?"

{table by zoë}

[Cato]

"Dialogue"
"Hearing"
Thoughts
Narration

I never expected the kid to accept the challenge I threw at him. I can imagine how people see me. Looking so much older than everyone around me. Physique intimidating. Even being from two alone scares some folks here. How he accepted alerts me that he doesn't know what to do. Too intimidated to stay with the same thing being said for leaving. Truthfully? He must not know a thing about how to take someone down let alone know how to wrestle and win at that. Whereas I know several different ways just to take someone down. A headlock with one sweep at the feet. A single leg. Both legs. So many different possibilities. Even better is the many different things one can do on the ground. My favorite would be grabbing an opponent's arm and yanking it in a way it shouldn't be bent.

He steps up to face me. Going along with what he got out of his mouth about accepting. A small part of me feels sorry for him. If our situations were reverse, I'd feel terrified. I'd be shivering in fear of wrestling someone five times bigger than me. I've already issued the challenge so there's no going back on it. I'd look extremely stupid bowing out of a match with someone who's not even from a career district. The best I can do for him is teach him a bit about takedowns and some hand to hand stuff. Not enough to make it useful against say a career, but it could mean the difference in getting a weapon in the bloodbath. I should let this guy go in without experience, but for reasons beyond me this tribute will get my help. Even if its a small contribution, he'll get some pointers.

He's not looking me in the eyes. Can't say I blame him at all. He asks what to do next and suddenly the small amount of guilt I had melts away which turns into excitement. "Once the bell rings you try to take me down and pin my shoulders to the mat for three seconds. Sounds easy in theory right? If it appears to hard you can make me tap." I can imagine how he'll respond. If he doesn't bolt in the opposite direction well I'd be extremely shocked. He already doesn't want to be here. If he stays he'd be showing a lot of guts. I'd respect him a bit for staying. I nod toward the referee and position myself for the start of the match should he accept. My gaze turns back toward my potential opponent. Let the fun begin.

[Will]

.: ZEKI WEBB :.
{district five : 69th tribute}

"Once the bell rings you try to take me down and pin my shoulders to the mat for three seconds." Just looking at this guy I know it's impossible. To be honest I don't even know how the trainers have done it. He's got wide shoulders, an extremely muscled body, and as far as I can tell, a low center of gravity. I feel like that's everything to fear in a wrestling opponent. "Sounds easy in theory right?" No. No it doesn't. Because in theory what I have to do is pin an ogre to the ground with nothing but the strength of my own body. And that in itself is impossible. Actually, no, not impossible, just so unlikely that it seems impossible. That's probably how I should view this wrestling match. And I know he'll try not to hurt me too badly, I think. "If it appears to hard you can make me tap." What? What is make you tap? Tap what? Syrup? Your foot? My head?

Suddenly he gets into a position. I look over at the trainer nervously, but he's too bemused to give me any advice. I study Mason's posture for a second and then try my best to imitate it. This is crazy. What am I doing? Being in shock, that's what I'm doing. Either that or I'm being stupid. Maybe a combination of the two. Usually when you're in shock you don't think straight, so maybe that's it. Maybe I'm thinking diagonally. Oh my goodness, I'm making puns on how to think in my head. I really am in trouble.

The bell rings to start the wrestling match. The bell actually sounds really nice. I really like the metallic clang of it. Then I realize what it resembles, the gong that commences the Hunger Games. I immediate detest the sound of the bell, because it is all to similar to the sound that will mark the beginning of my end.

I stand there like an idiot in the world's most uncomfortable position, waiting to see what will happen to me. Because God knows that it's nothing good.

{table by zoë}