blood & sweat [frisson]

[d6a georgie cham 🍓🐢 frankel]

Alfan Cryer

Stepping down the stairs, I’d have my bag over my shoulder. Before I could get off the last step, I was already being called, ”Morning Alfan, have some breakfast.” The thought of breakfast when I have training, puts me off food. “I am off out, I don’t need breakfast.” As expected the stupid bitch protested, but as I walked past the kitchen door, my father is sat at the table, giving me the usual stern look. “Do as your mother said, Alfan.” He’d say, of course I complied with him, he has strings attached to me but soon I hope to cut them. My first week of ‘mainstream’ career training, I knew everything my dad taught be was useless crap. I had learnt and improved on more in a week, than my dad taught me in 5 years, he is shite. I couldn’t tell him that though. I had gotten into the routine of telling him I had great day training in the centre; I told him that everything he taught me was exactly the same there. It was all utter bullshit. The twins aren’t down, so I empty my plate of toast and eggs quickly, before all the chaos begins. Really they’re a pair of loud dim-witted sluts. Always at the heels of boys, forever bickering, they are hell. Although the kid sat opposite me is the most useless one. His face in his bowl of cereal, he doesn’t even speak nor do anything. I literally don’t see why my parents bothered to have any other kids after me, the last 3 are terrible. Swallowing the last sip of orange juice, I’d leave the table. ”Be safe Alfan, don’t get into any trouble.” Oh whatever stupid cow. My father didn’t bother wishing me any luck; he knew I didn’t need it. As I stepped into the hallway, one half of the twins are coming down the stairs. ”Ooh make sure you don’t get punched in the face Alfy!” Of course, my first day humiliation had gotten around the young folk of the district. Matt one of the well-known careers had literally slaughtered me in a training session. It went from a pleasant stick practice, to a full blown fight, just because I kicked him in the balls. We are learning to survive the games, not play fair. Cussing I leave the house and head out to the centre. Summer is in full bloom, the summer solstice is today and the days are long. At least from now on everything goes downhill; the days will get cooler, much easier to practice. Today I’ll work outside, the air is too humid to be stuck inside. The centre isn’t a far walk from home, slipping through the entrance; I’d head straight to the changing room. Pushing open the door, thankfully nobody was in there. Dumping my bag into the locker, I’d head out to the track. Yesterday I had a knife throwing session with my trainer; he is a real strict man, much better than my father. My trainer taught me accuracy, balance, nothing of which my father taught me. Today is a free day, I can train whatever I want, so I decided to work on my fitness. As expected the track is full of careers, great spectators for me to prove myself. Since the incident with Matt, I’ve decided to step up my game, suck up to other careers, try gain a reputation. So far I have slowly succeeded. Two days after my first, I actually hung out with a few careers after training. I easily gained some friends. Heading to the track, I began a steady jog, warming up my body.

friss△n

[friss△n]

KAMBER VIRSKEN district two / seventeen / female "Pass five people within a mile, after you've run two." I stared down at my food, pursing my lips. It was the same breakfast I got every morning: eggs, toast, and a fruit that varied from day to day. My mother stared me down as I slowly ate everything. She scrutinized me, made sure I ate everything off my plate until it was time to go. My hair was already styled up into a high, pinching pony tail, and my clothes consisted of a tank top and leggings. Of course, I really didn't have to do any of the absurdly impossible tasks my mother set out for me each morning. I hated them. And yet I felt some strange, stupid loyalty to her, as if I was forced to make her proud. I didn't have to, is what I wanted to convince myself. I could tell her I did it. She wouldn't know any better, anyway. But then, mother was always very good at knowing when I was lying. I guess that happens when you only have one person to love and obsess over in your life. "Did you hear me, Kamber? I said-" "I am well aware of what you said. I'll do it," I told my empty plate. When I looked up, she had conflicting emotions on her face. She was probably wondering if my rude interruption and my compliance balanced each other out. "Alright. Off to training," she said curtly, hustling me from my seat and to the door. I pulled on my shoes and a sweatshirt and grabbed my bag, doing so as fast as I could. When I stepped outside, the air was warm and sticky compared to the inside of my house. With a sigh, I started my short walk to the center, adjusting my pack on my shoulder. By the time I reached it, I had concluded that I hated Cardiovascular Sundays. I could run three miles. Not easily though. I was fine with two miles, but three almost made me throw up and pass out last time I tried it, which was a mere two weeks ago. Not to mention I had to pass five people, which meant going faster and harder than the careers that were in front of me. I chewed the inside of my cheek as I opened my locker and threw my bag in, after taking out my water bottle. It was a rushing relief not to have the sweatshirt on anymore. I started jogging on the track, figuring the best strategy for the task was pacing myself. But I never had the best endurance, so by the time I got to half a mile, I wasn't doing so hot. My chest felt achy and my feet were burning as I padded around the track. I was never going to make it. And yet I kept pushing, ignoring every whining part of my body in practiced ease. It's not about you, Kamber. It's about winning. When I finished my third mile, my legs felt like paper, weak and frail, and my mouth felt like parchment. Trails of sweat dripped over my skin, each one feeling uncomfortably wet and doing nothing to cool me down. I passed a girl who looked like she had been running longer than I have. One down. Unfortunately, I was not so lucky with the rest in front of me. They all looked unfazed, not tired at the least. I cursed underneath my breath as a new boy joined in front of me, just close enough for me to have to pass. The next few minutes were torture as my whole body screamed at me to stop every time I sped up to pass someone. Breaths entered and exited embarrassingly loud through my mouth, making my presence known to whoever I was passing. The girls gave me odd looks, but let me pass. The boys, on the other hand, went faster, purposefully trying to stay ahead of me. I glared at them as I slowly, steadily picked up the pace. Number five was jogging in front of me. He had a shock of dark hair and was relatively short, and yet he was much taller than me. A decent build. I looked in despair at the distance between him and me and started to run faster, despite how tired I felt. I had a half a lap to pass him. Quarter of a lap, I was even with him. At the end, I was maybe an inch or two ahead. That counted, right? I fought my instinct to stop right at the line, but instead broke into a walk. Putting my hands on top of my head to ease my heavy breathing, I tried to forget about the horrible feeling in my stomach and the pounding headache I had developed. This is not about you Kamber, this is about winning. This is not about you. I blacked out for second. Hitting the track with a loud thud, I felt a numb, subtle pain as I woke up again. Damnit, Kamber, look what you did. I returned, still light headed, to my feet as quickly as I could, hoping in vain that no one noticed. This is not about you.

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WC: 860 words
d6a georgie cham 🍓🐢 frankel

[d6a georgie cham 🍓🐢 frankel]

Alfan Cryer

Picking up a bit of speed after eight hundred meters, I had no plan when I would stop running, the distance I would do. I’ll just go until my body tells me to stop. Pushing myself on, I’d run around the career’s doing relays, the one’s whose bodies had already given up on the floor. Really I am surprised some of these are even careers with their fitness, I’ve already past three of them and I am not going very fast. This is the second time I’ve used this track, the first time with Matt on my first day. We just did some sprints upsides, nothing too tedious. I’ve just been working inside on the punch bags and practicing with sticks with other careers. Just to prove to everyone that I am not a useless piece of shit, like I was the first day, with the sparring. Having proved that, I’ve decided to do something different. After my run around, I’ll take a quick break and then do some sprints. If I can be bothered, I’ll seek out some careers to do relays with, if not I’ll have to find a partner to run upsides with, test my speed. My father had taught me some good things. Alliance with people to help you, especially in the games. Even though at one point, most of the alliance will have to die, it is good to have that help in the beginning. So I’ve decided to befriend as many careers I can, I may even learn something from them. I’ve gotten to a good start so far, I even befriend the guy who beat me up the first day. He is a wise friend to have, if he can beat me he is obviously better than me, he is someone good to learn from. But he has his own problems to deal with, but I’ll get him to help me, I always get what I want in the end. Bending around the corner, I’d approach an obstacle of people, slow people running ahead of me. They looked pretty young, probably twelve year olds, just reached reaping age. I am fresh meat myself, but I am seventeen but most of the older careers treat me like a little kid. I was expecting it. It is my mother’s fault; I would’ve started the real training earlier on if it wasn’t for her. She wrapped us all up in cotton wool; she would only allow my dad to teach us ‘the basics’. When I began my training with my dad, I was too good for the basics, so when my sisters aren’t weren’t around, he taught me other things. More brutal things. Lately I’ve been becoming too good for the stuff he knows, dad finally got the soft bitch to let me have the real training. I wish he had begged her earlier. Pushing my arms forwards and backwards, I’d pass the youngsters; the next person ahead was far away to catch up with. A couple of strides I would be by myself, but I can feel a shadow behind me, someone is catching up. Probably one of the twelve year olds, being cocky. A few more strides and the person are at my heels. Taking a quick glance around, it is a girl, with red hair. Pushing my legs to go quicker, I’d inhale more oxygen, trying to get my body mechanics going. But the girl is now upsides, I can feel my body slowly shutting down. Sweat runs down my forehead, my face turning the same colour as the girl’s hair. Gritting my teeth I’d push on, the girl a few inches ahead of me. Going a few yards ahead of me, I’d slow down a bit, I am not here to race…yet. I can’t fool myself and pass out; I will most certainly not get humiliated again. Keeping at a steady pace ,I’d look back, some of the kids I passed coming up behind. Still looking behind, I wouldn’t notice the person on the floor when I reached the line. Catching my foot at the side of their body, I would fly over the person, face planting the floor at the other side of them. “For fuck sake.” I’ve done it again, I’ve humiliated myself. Why do I keep doing this, I am not even a clumsy person. Shaking my head, I’d look up; it was the girl who passed me, the obstacle I had fallen over. Pulling myself off the ground, I’d look down at her. ”Couldn’t you have died somewhere else?” My hands were grazed, from where I had landed, nothing serious. I could put up with the injury, get it sorted when I get home.

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[friss△n]

KAMBER VIRSKEN district two / seventeen / female I then understood that faint yet consistent pain that was no only in my head, but in my side. I understood why there was something that hurt and it wasn't the bile in my stomach. It must have happened in the split moment when I was unconscious, before I sprung up again. It was a person. "For fuck sake," he spat in disgust. I glared at him and shifted on my feet. "Couldn't you have died anywhere else?" This boy, the boy I must have raced to beat, was perhaps one of the most flawless creatures I had ever seen. His hair looked meticulously brushed, eyes a beautiful, dark color and an elegant shape. He was the dictionary definition of gorgeous. I guess his pretty face made up for what must be his hellish personality. I crossed my arms in contempt, looking at him with a stony stare. It was hard not to show the extreme discomfort from my gut on my face. I looked at him for a second, contemplating my answer and regaining my composure. Once, my sister, before she died, kept on pounding on my door and running away, a ball of laughter. At that point in my very short life, a lot of things could easily set me off, and my younger sister’s existence was almost enough to do that. I asked to stop. She didn’t. I told my parents to ask her to stop. They told it was immature and to just ignore it. It got to the point where I hid in the room across from mine, and when she came up to do the crime, I tackled her and clawed at her until her crying and wailing called enough attention for my parents to check on us. They shouted at me for what I did, and made me apologize to her. This is the exact absurd situation, give or take a few variables. But the song remains the same; I am victim to someone who doesn’t know who to blame. I could lose my temper, shout at him. That would be perceived as childish. No on screaming. I could say nothing, just walk away from the track. But that would ruin the stubborn reputation I've been slowly trying to build up, and would also make me look weak and vulnerable. No on silence. Calmly telling him off, maybe. My best option. Try not to swear, Kamber. "Oh, dear, I'm sorry," I say with fake and superficial sincerity, and then tear it off my face. "I didn't realize you fainted voluntarily. I guess I'll just have to work on moving somewhere before I pass out. Do forgive me, asshole." Eh, one expletive won't hurt. A few younger kids shuffled and weaved through us, faces looking slightly uncomfortable. Let them pass, the new ones. They'll get used to it in later years. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if a few punches were thrown at this moment. It was just what happened at career centers, especially with an overbearing, cocky, testosterone filled boy. I throw my attention back on this boy, this embarrassment, this nuisance. “Suck it up, buttercup. If you want to whine like a toddler, go join them,” I pointed to the pack of twelve year olds making their way around.

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WC: 537 words
d6a georgie cham 🍓🐢 frankel

[d6a georgie cham 🍓🐢 frankel]

Alfan Cryer

Inspecting my obstacle more closely, I’d notice her eyes. Captivating blue eyes, I’ve never seen eyes like that on a girl before. Her hair is like golden red silk, so perfect. Obviously she did not take kindly to my reaction but she was in the way, she made me fall. Thankfully there were no other careers in this area, just the group of twelve year olds, who were behind me, hopefully they didn’t see it. I’d be more embarrassed if I was the girl, fainting, that is just weak. I’ve only ever fainted once before and that was when I was younger.

Five years ago, when I was twelve, the twins were ten. It was their first time training with dad; he gave them wooden batons to mess around with. Of course the chaotic half of the twins had a better use with the baton, smacking me around the head with it. At the end of the session, just as I was leaving the room, the mental bitch smacked me on the temple with it. I can’t remember anything else, supposedly I just fell to the floor and they thought I was dead. The other twin told me how they planned on hiding my body, not telling anyone. Obviously my father found out, I was only knocked out for about 30 seconds, I had concussion and I had to stay awake most of the night. That night was hell, for my sisters, I kept them awake with me.

"Oh, dear, I'm sorry," such sarcasm in her tone. I know this is going to go somewhere terribly; I can’t get humiliated…again. ” "I didn't realize you fainted voluntarily. I guess I'll just have to work on moving somewhere before I pass out. Do forgive me, asshole." Wow and what a smart arse as well, you’re doing great at making allies Alfan.

Watching as the twelve years olds ran by, I could see them snickering and pointing. I had literally fallen down the ranks, below them at this very minute. If I have the babies laughing at me, how worse could get?

“Suck it up, buttercup. If you want to whine like a toddler, go join them,” I couldn’t argue, not now. I couldn’t get into a fight with someone who just fainted, that was unfair. Earlier this week I had learned that you had to be fair here, despite the fact we’re training to survive, to kill people.

”Oh fucking whatever.” I can’t be bothered arguing, so move over to a bench near the line. Sitting down, I’d pull on my bottle of water, from my shorts pocket. A small bottle, which fits ideally in my pocket without discomfort, I need all the water I can get in this weather. Pulling off the cap, I’d begin to let the warm water flow down my throat. Gaining hydration and my energy back, I’d wait for my body to repair, ignoring the red haired girl I fell over.

table made by ghosty
friss△n

[friss△n]

 

KAMBER VIRSKEN district two / seventeen / female Out of pretty boy's mouth popped out what was probably the most half-assed comeback I had he in my relatively short and ultimately meaningless life. "Oh fucking whatever." I stood still as he walked over to a bench on the side of the track and sat down, the old hunk of wood whining under the gain of sudden weight. The pain in my stomach and head had subsided a little, but were still consistent and pounding. My heart pumping made a heavy, resonating sound in my ears. As the boy took out a small water bottle from his pocket, I realized my mouth felt parched and uncomfortably dry. I zeroed in on my water bottle, which was, unfortunately, sitting right at the base of said bench. My shoulders sagged as I wondered how much I really wanted that water.   Sauntering over, I studied him quietly. Was he not smart enough to come up with an answer? He didn't look like a brainless meathead, but I wouldn't know. Was he avoiding a fight? Respectable, although I wasn't sure why he'd think I'd pick a fight. He was taller, and probably stronger. The only things in my artillery were speed and witty comebacks. A smart career would realize that with enough analysis. So maybe he's dumb. Maybe I'm wrong. Whichever one it was, it did not lessen the awkwardness of my retrieving my water bottle. I took a long, slow sip, enjoying the rush of cool water running over my mouth. With a sigh, I lowered the bottle down, my breathing no longer ballooning my chest. Although the aching in my stomach had left, my legs started to feel weak and thin, like anything could push me over with just one tap. I drank more water at the thought. I wasn't going to apologize to him. To be technical, I already did, but I'm not sure that counted. He didn't deserve the apology. Rude, cursing. Although, to be fair, I was also rude and cursing. I didn't expect an apology from this boy either, I concluded. Not with the giant plume of pride he seemed to be maintaining. I didn't enjoy the palpable tension pretty boy and I had. I assumed his silence was some sort of childish defense mechanism. In these situations you can tell I didn't get out much, because I didn't know what to do. Talking might have med him more aggravated, while shutting up would just make the high strung feeling in the air build. I looked over at him, admiring the overall neatness of his persona and the undeniable beauty I am reluctant to admit is there. Maybe an ally would be nice after training alone for years on end. "You seem new. I've never seen you before," I said, infringing on the silence. My eyes changed from looking at him to looking at the track in front of us. "Probably not used to butting heads. Just stay away from the steroid jacked maniacs and you'll be good. Those boys have too much testosterone." I huffed out the last sentence with an edge of annoyance, then swished a swig of water around in my mouth. A few other people passed by, running and puffing. I glanced back over at pretty boy, waiting expectantly for a response, whatever it was. It could be yelling at me, it could be calm. It could be nothing at all. I didn't care. I was ready, I decided, and took a last drink of water before bracing myself.

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WC:  579 words
I swear I'll make it pretty but I'm too tired to format tonight so
d6a georgie cham 🍓🐢 frankel

[d6a georgie cham 🍓🐢 frankel]

Alfan Cryer

Biting my bottom lip in frustration, I’d place the water bottle down on the bench besides me. Stretching out my legs, I’d relax a bit; slightly eager to get back on my feet, yet my body was refusing. The heat was so intense, sweat dripped from my brow and soaked my hair. I probably had patches on my shirt but I’d rather not check.

Rubbing my foot on the ground, a great dust cloud would form; it would blow onto the track. So there was actually a breeze but it was not a cool one

Watching awkwardly as the red-headed girl retrieved her drink from below the bench, I’d look away, trying to avoid any eye contact. I had most likely failed in any alliance with this girl, so ought to not even bother trying to fix it. Everyone else I had messed up with just turned away, ignoring me. I had to find someone half-decent to train with. Not a stuck up smart ass or a useless weakling. This red headed girl fainted on the track; she obviously isn’t the type I am looking for.

Glancing back at her slightly, her eyes would catch me again. The deep blue reminded me of a daytime sky and her hair the sun in the centre of it all. My terribly brown eyes were nothing compared to hers, dark hair and dark eyes all too common in the district. But her appearance, I’ve never seen it so well put together. Most red headed kids I know are freckled up geeks, with their heads in books.

Feeling the awkwardness build as she stood with her water bottle, I’d look down at my feet. I should just get up and run on the track again but there was some magnet attracted me to the bench to stay here. What is wrong with me? I am usually determined to get to training but something is blocking me right now.

"You seem new. I've never seen you before," I seem new? Is that because I look shit or because she has never seen my face before? I am not inexperience with training, only at this place. Yeah I have fucked up in the past week but I am better than 45% of the careers here and they’ve all been here longer than me. ”I am not new to training.” I’d say quite sternly, trying to fix my tone lightly, I’d say ”Just here.” more softly. She is the first person to ask me a question like that, after I have fallen over them.

"Probably not used to butting heads. Just stay away from the steroid jacked maniacs and you'll be good. Those boys have too much testosterone." I know how to handle these jerks; do I look like I can’t? But I can’t admit that her, even though I fell over her, she isn’t grudging at me. She might want to be allies, training partners… with a girl? I would have never thought. If she is crap, I can just find somebody else.
But first, I cannot lose my pride. ”Yeah I know how to handle them.” I’d say quite bluntly. If want her to be my to be my training partner, I can’t keep being a dick about it. Maybe ask if she is alright but then I’ll seem too affectionate. ”Are you capable of doing another sprint around the track? Or are you going to faint again?” At least if she accept the run, I’ll have something pretty to look at, all the way around.

table made by ghosty
friss△n | 586 Words

[friss△n]

With water down my throat, I feel a little less grumpier. In fact, for a girl who flipped people off as a toddler, I'd say I'm almost pleasant. Almost, that is. Pretty boy responds to my comments in respectable nonchalance, his voice as smooth and seamless as his appearance. "I am not new to training. Just here," he says. I look over at him, and gingerly set my water bottle down. Beyond his meticulously styled crop of dark hair and what I could call a decent looking face, pretty boy looked well built, if a bit short. Evidence of his previous training. Certainly someone I could use by my side. My strengths are speed and agility, but his looks more like strength and endurance, all equally important traits. A let out an acknowledging, "hm," in response to his answer. My headache is almost gone. I have always thought of headaches as a mental game, something I can get rid of at will. However, the odd, churning feeling in my stomach still hasn't left my stomach, giving me, hopefully, empty threats of losing my breakfast. That I could not control that. I push a hand through my hair, noting the light sheen of sweat that had built up during my run. With a quick movement, I move my ponytail away from the back of my damp neck, enjoying the bliss of air pooling over my skin. I fan out my tank top in my last attempts to cool myself down. His voice rings in my ears once again. "Yeah, I know how to handle them," he started, and then paused. "Are you capable of doing another sprint around the track? Or are you going to faint again?" I take in the words, lips parted and my brain already scrambling to think of an answer. I run through a list. A challenge? A taunt? A test? Studying pretty boy's blunt expression doesn't help t all. Am I offended? No. I don't faint on a regular basis. If I can stall for a minute, perhaps I can build enough strength to do one sprint around the track. Maybe a little slower than usual, but most likely enough to satisfy him. I look around on the gravel lined oval, a daunting and annoying endless loop of shallow breath and body odor. Sure, I'm up for it. "The question is, will you faint?" I ask tauntingly, walking slowly from the bench towards the track. Kicking a loose stone by my foot, I ready myself, ignoring the subtle uneasiness in my stomach. Just one lap, Kamber. One. Don't even think about the distance. I move to the center, getting the short distance. Leaning out of the way as a girl passes me, I look over to pretty boy. I could feel one corner of my mouth quirk as I said, with surprising confidence, "I'm Kamber Virsken, by the way. You know, the girl who's dust you're about to eat." KAMBER VIRSKEN SEVENTEEN FEMALE DISTRICT TWO BIO WORD COUNT: 487 TAGS: d6a georgie cham 🍓🐢 frankel NOTES: I'm sorry this is so short and late  and bad please forgive me <3 SPEAKING HEARING THINKING TABLE BY FRISSON

[d6a georgie cham 🍓🐢 frankel]

Alfan Cryer

Stretching my legs out more across ground, my body would be reluctant to move. I’ve rested for too long; I need more steam in my engine, especially now that I’ve challenged this red headed girl. Should I go easy on her, seeing that she just fainted? No. If I was fighting someone, I’d doubt they’d go easy on me. I don’t care if she is a girl; we’re all equal in this regardless of our age or gender. They wouldn’t have us train together if we were all different.

Pushing myself off the bench, I had succeeded in encouraging my body to get moving. Standing beside the red-headed girl, I’d still be towering her despite my lack of height. She looks agile, probably sprinty and fast. My strength and her speed would make a great formula for a team, we could learn off each other’s skills.

"The question is, will you faint?" Cheeky bitch, she hasn’t seen the best of me yet. Although with my challenge I was at a downfall, we were doing sprints and I am more of an endurance runner. I really had push myself now but I am not going to faint. Shaking my head in response, I would follow her to the track. The group of twelve year olds were flying around the corner. Observing them, they were all upsides, in unison with one and other. They looked like machines, inhuman, all their movements identical to each other.

This is training for survival, not a circus trick. I know we had to impress the Capitol with their bizarre desires but synchronised running? How will that help anyone?

Feeling the sun fire down on me, I predicted it must be at least 30 Celsius, the air was humid. Dust clouds rose from the ground, making breathing even more unbearable. After this I just want a cold shower, something cool to dose my body in. Training inside would likely be even worse, all those sweaty bodies cramped into one room.

"I'm Kamber Virsken, by the way. You know, the girl who's dust you're about to eat." The red headed girl threw another cheeky comment at me, how dare she. ”Yeah the dust from when you faint again.” I’d say with a slight chuckle before stating my name. ”I’m Alfan Cryer.” My name would roll off my tongue as if I’ve said it a thousand times. It was great, four simple syllables; my name really went well together.

Stepping onto the track, I’d turn to Kamber, readying myself to go. Should I be a dick and get a head start or be fair? I’ve learnt all week that I must be fair but I am not that type of person. Although this girl was training partner material, I needed to give her a good impression. ”Ready?” I’d say with a slight enthusiasm.

table made by ghosty
friss△n