Sharks and minnows // Lancelot

[charade]

Katrina was aggravated.

She had done pretty well the first day, considering, but in her book pretty well wasn’t good enough. She should have swept every event she competed in. Getting a worse time in a swimming event than Mayor Fabian “old as balls” Perch? That stung more than anything else. He simply shouldn’t have been able to beat her. It was ridiculous. Katrina griped to herself in a foul mood, back against the wall adjacent to the door of the district four quarters. She’d acquired a bag of sunflower seeds from a young district one competitor, having “convinced” them that giving her their snack would be far more healthy than eating the seeds.

As she stood there, she watched people come and go until she saw someone that was worth talking to. A brunette. Thin. Unremarkable. Except that Katrina knew her face. Crayola Krearns. Katrina kept tabs on the people she’d be competing against, even more so when their family was known for tributes. Three, if her memory served her correctly, the latest of which had made the finale before dying to thrice damned district eleven. Someith she knew well. He was a part of her little pantheon of admired tributes, even if he’d been more brutal than most had the stomach for. She waited until the girl got closer before addressing her, stuffing the bag of seeds in her pocket.

It wasn’t every day that she competed against someone from a well-known family.

“Hey you.” She called out. “Krearns.” Because fuck if she knew how to pronounce the girl’s given name. Katrina peeled herself away from the wall she’d been leaning against and headed for the brunette. “Saw you in the listing for the javelin throw. Thought I’d check out the competition.” She stopped short in front of her and snorted quietly, more to herself than the girl. Yet another potential rival she had at least a half a foot of height on. “Wanted you to know that I respect your family name on account of what Someith did for district four a few years back.” Katrina rolled her neck, hearing the joint pop, but keeping her eyes focused on Crayola the whole time.

“But I’m Katrina Sykes. And javelins? That’s my life right there. Don’t matter what family you’re from or what amount of respect is given.”

Katrina spat the sunflower shells she’d been turning over in her mouth on the ground.

“When it comes to competition, I give no fucks. You’re going down. Thought you should know.” She finished as an arrogant grin stole over her face.

[lance]

crayola krearns

narration, says, thinks, hears

If Crayola had a dollar for every time she had heard the word "Krearns" in her presence since the Olympics had started, she'd be richer than every kid from One combined.

The fact didn't surprise her more as mildly annoy her, though she couldn't say she was oblivious as to why. Someith's legacy was still fresh on the minds of the elder kids, and there was no doubt that she looked the part, as well.

Besides, she had been much the same way when an overgrown boy-man from Two who could have only been a Hammerfell emerged from one of the indoor arenas, face set in a scowl and forehead beaded with sweat. She, like many others, had watched with wide eyes as the boy with the legendary name had lumbered down the street, oblivious to the many sets of eyes that had been following his wake.

That had been hours ago, and she had spent the time flitting from event to event, from a swimming event to a decathlon that seemed to be filled exclusively with Ones and Fours to a track and field event where a local had come within an inch of breaking the all time record.

In retrospect, she thought that it might have been a better idea to sign up for more than a single event, sign up for something that she could do to pass the time. 

Alas, joining the Olympics had been a last second decision for her, and by the time she had thought to sign up many of the more popular events had been completely filled. 

After the track-and-field events had ended, she had decided to return to the temporary quarters set up for the athletes in search of something to occupy her time. No doubt one of her cousins would be frequenting there; she knew of at least four that had also decided to join the festivities. 

What she did not expect was the severe looking girl leaning against the wall of the quarters to acknowledge her. 

"Hey you. Krearns."

The first two floated past her ears without registering (That could be for anyone, she thought), but the third penetrated her clouded thoughts as smoothly and effectively as a stray spear penetrating the eye of an unlucky tribute. 

She turned towards the source of the sound, noticing in surprise that it was her the severe girl was addressing, not one of her cousins. 

Well, that's a first.

Whenever she had heard her surname uttered from the lips of another, it had been in a hushed manner, whispers from all around in tones of awe and surprise and disgust, a clear sign that her bloodthirsty cousin's legacy was alive and well even more than two years later.

Speaking of legacies...

"Saw you in the listings for the javelin throw." the girl commented, having moved from her position on the wall towards her. "Thought I’d check out the competition.”

She paused a couple of feet away, causing Crayola to have to crane her head back to maintain eye contact. The girl had at least a good six inches on her, a fact that she seemed to realize in the same instant.

She swore she almost snorted at the realization. 

Allowing the faintest of smiles to cross her face, she extended her forearms a few inches out to her sides, all the while not breaking eye contact. "Well, here I am." she responded lightly. 

The girl rolled her neck in response, causing the joint to emit a faint pop, before continuing.  “Wanted you to know that I respect your family name on account of what Someith did for district four a few years back.”

A couple of years ago, such a confession would have caused her to curl her nose in revulsion at the name of her cousin, but time had both honed her poker face and wiped away much of the horror she associated with him. 

After all, if you took away his excess brutality, Someith was in many ways an idea Career, and had brought as much respect to her name as disgust.

She dipped her head in response, uttering a simple, even "Thank you," in response. 

Besides, even if Someith hadn't done some of the things he had done, there wasn't much she could think to say in response. 

Luckily, the girl didn't seem keen to stay on that particular topic. 

“But I’m Katrina Sykes. And javelins? That’s my life right there. Don’t matter what family you’re from or what amount of respect is given.”

Her grin widened just a little at those words. If there was one thing that she disliked more than just about anything, it was people judging her by her last name instead of her first. 

Finding someone who didn't give two shits what she was named was a rare and refreshing change from the many who did. 

The girl - Katrina - spat out what looked like shells to sunflower seeds before continuing. “When it comes to competition, I give no fucks. You’re going down. Thought you should know.”

She capped off her words with a grin full of confidence and arrogance, and Crayola could only smirk in response. 

Well, this just got a whole lot more interesting. 

"Appreciate the courtesy." she responded, still smirking. Javelins weren't her favorite weapon by any means, but they were still fun to use on occasion. There was something satisfying about throwing a spear into the chest of a dummy from ten meters away, and the sport took away much of the aiming aspect, focusing more on the raw power that lay within each and every person that competed. 

"It'll be nice to have some worthy competition for once." she continued, still smirking. And she meant it, too - the Career in her was always looking for a challenge, and few things gave her more joy than testing her skills against someone worthy.

"The name's Crayola Krearns, but I'm guessing you already knew that." she finished. matching her gaze with the chocolate brown of Katrina's. 

"Just Crayola will be fine, though."

It wasn't Someith's or anyone else's legacy that she wanted to be remembered by upon the event's completion. 

It was her own. 

[charade]

“Appreciate the courtesy.” The easy smirk on the other girl’s face surprised her, not that it let the cocky grin fade from her face at all. Crayola wasn’t one of the careers she’d seen training with javelins; at least, not where she trained. Yet the Krearns girl was confident. Self-assured. Even though a quick search of the name through the event rosters had turned up javelins as the only event she’d be competing in. It was curious, and for a second, the thought crossed her mind that she should be concerned. But it passed, and the thought of losing went with it. The gold was hers. Nobody was going to take it from her.

There were still several more events she had to prepare for besides the javelin throw, but it continued to be the one that weighed on her mind the most. Still, she had to do better in the next couple of swimming events, or she was never going to forgive herself. Then there was a sprint and the hurdles to deal with but she had a good feeling about those; her legs would give her a clear advantage. Finally there was the rowing event and she knew she had that on lockdown. Who from two or one even had a boat of their own to practice with? None of them, she wagered, even if her opponents included a Hammerfell and a Fray.

The girl went on to say that worthy competition would be nice for once and Katrina found herself nodding along as it was a sentiment she could agree with. She’d take a fellow four over a two or a one any day of the week, and it didn’t hurt who she was related to either. Katrina expected a lot from her. Then Crayola introduced herself and held her gaze. Katrina could respect that. It seemed like a lot of people found her imposing. Not that she blamed them. She was. She knew that. Embraced it. But it was somewhat cool to see someone taking her on at the same level.

“Cray-oh-la.” She repeated out loud, turning the name over in her mouth and enunciating each syllable. “You know, most of the time I issue a challenge, all I get back are insults, or a look of fear as they back away.” She chuckled slyly. “Not too often that that someone meets it." She dug the bag of sunflower seeds back out of her pocket and tossed a couple more in her mouth.

“You just might be interesting.”

She chewed the seeds and debated what to say. To be frank, she kind of wanted to ask more about Someith and whether or not he’d taught Crayola any tips and tricks before going off to the arena. Of course, blatantly asking about that was a surefire way to let it be known that she was concerned about what Crayola might have up her sleeves for the event, and Katrina liked to think she was shrewder than that. But besides that, she usually didn’t get this far into a conversation with someone without tempers flaring. She wasn’t exactly sure what to do next. So instead of saying something obnoxious, she spat out another shell towards the grass and motioned with her head in the general direction of a fountain.

“Walk with me?” It was phrased as a question, but it was more than just a suggestion.

“You seem pretty confident,” she said as she started to move down the path. “Think you’d do good repping our district in the games? The ah, hunger that is. Not the Olympic.”