Perserverance {Sage + Chaos}

[kap]

Sage Scarborough

Upon entering the Training Center, Sage let his eyes scan the room. It was huge, with various targets set up in different areas, from the traditional round ones to life-size mannequins. There were stations scattered about from fire-making, to trapping, to identifying different plants and many others. A ropes course hung from the ceiling, and a few punching bags were set up over in a corner. Weapons were displayed on racks, such as swords, bows and spears. There were tables covered with a wide array of knives. It was astonishing to the young boy how much there really was to the Capitol's Training Center.

Having lived in District Twelve all of his life, he'd never even seen a smaller scale Training Center, which he heard was something present in the Career Districts, One, Two and Four. This place was enormous, and Sage had no idea where to start. He walked around for a while, observing different stations. Afraid he'd make a fool of himself trying to lift one, he avoided the swords, at least for now. Perhaps he'd try later, when there were less people in the room with him. Then again, he wasn't sure if that would happen.

Sage watched a few people working at the improvisational weapons station, and made a mental note to return to that later. If he didn't get a weapon from the cornucopia, he'd need to how to make one of his own. After a little bit longer of walking around and watching the other tributes, Sage eventually decided to make his way over to the punching bags. He'd never really been a fighter, but he'd need to be if he wanted to get anywhere at all in the Games that were creeping closer and closer. Therefore, the boy positioned himself in front of the punching bag; although it wasn't the best fighting stance. Then, creating a fist the only way he really knew how, he began delivering punches to the hanging sand bag.

After just a few hits, however, his knuckles were already turning red. He kept going, though, not wanting to give in that easily. The boy could feel the nail of his thumb digging into his palm, as he'd created his fist with his thumb inside. Sage realized then that that probably wasn't the wisest idea, but continued. Soon after he'd delivered about fifty punches, his legs were getting tired from his poor stance, and he felt as if his knees were going to give out. His knuckles were bleeding, and he stopped for a moment dropping his hands down and looking at his knuckles, seeing how much the blood was flowing. The sand-filled punching bag was still swaying back and forth the slightest bit, although he hadn't made it move much in the first place. The fabric of the bag was stained with Sage's blood, and he stomped his foot angrily.

"Why can't I do anything right?" Sage exclaimed in frustration.

487 words

Tag: Cameo {RIP Charlie}

[Cameo {RIP Charlie}]

Solely on the train to the Capitol is alcohol personally permitted… which slowly transfers into the rest of that night. And soon enough it becomes that I simply need to halt the drinks a couple days prior to entering the Arena. As long as I’m not vomiting -the precious meals I’ll need to maintain- across the Bloodbath’s surface, or mentally swaying as violently as the weapons shall be, it’s all dandy! Because in true sincerity, every hour that passes is a countdown to the last enjoyable moment I’ll be able to be drunk. This Game will conclude in the survival of my Brother, which means I desire to be wasted in all forms.

Nearly everyone else is swallowing coffee from their pristine mugs, while mine is slyly maintaining yet another beer for myself. Chatter engulfs around breakfast due to the vast population of our floor, and my participation would be absent if not for my liquid influence. Sarcasm and humor continues to seep from my vocals, while I subtly grow unsure if my company is being enjoyed. Am I annoying them, as I often do with some? Internal insecurities break me from the table, though a grin still facades my stern demeanor.

Water splashes against my features, teeth are polished, and training attire is acquired. With preparation gearing my exterior, I seek for the bottom floor. The majority become counterproductive while engulfed by the substance of alcohol, while my tolerance has gained me the opposite. Being captured by a minor influence enhances my practice upon any art; sight becomes more keen, muscles relaxed, and memories better absorbed…just as long as I don’t swallow too many beverages beforehand.

But at the amount of a mere three beers, my Being is anxious to begin training. My eyes glow in the study of the Training Center, thrilled by it’s advancement compared to Home. Now if only my dancing mind could concentrate upon the tasks that need to be achieved. A warmup to surely envelope me within the atmosphere?

A few sprints around the entire Center provides cardio, while alerting me of the different stations and Tributes across them. Light weights upon various machines are used to awaken each of my muscles. And finally the punching bags tempt my senses to arouse my fighting desires. Before I have a chance to prepare for my aggressive nails against an inanimate, Another focuses my attention and his words carve deep into my sympathy.

How I’ve questioned that to myself everyday.

The softness of his display is the first aspect I notice. Face-wise he reminds me so much of Blizzy’s innocent appearance, which instinctively draws me forth. “Having some difficulties?” Comfort spews from my pitch in the question. Automatically I clasp one of his hands within my own two, and begin inspecting the Stranger’s knuckles. Beers make me all too friends. “You’re punching too hard. It’s not about strength, but structure.” I explain, while shifting my eyes to his sliced palm. “And you’re lucky you didn’t break your thumb, never tuck them in.” Advice naturally flows from me.

“I can teach you how to punch properly if you want?” I offer, though my words don’t subside there. “We need to clean up those knuckles first though, and wrap them up…not as a stupid bandaid, but you never attack a punching bag bare knuckled.” My head gestures over to a first aid kit, until I realize he hasn’t accepted my offer yet. “Only if you want to, of course.” A grin enfolds across my lips.

[kap]

Sage Scarborough

A kind voice immediately makes Sage turn his head away from what he was doing and any sign of anger drops from his face. Standing beside him is one of District Four's many volunteer tributes. He knew she was from District Four from watching the reaping, but couldn't quite remember her name, only that it starting with a 'c' or a 'k'. Deciding not to think about that too much, though, as he was sure they'd catch one another's names at some point, he listened to what she had to say.

The first thing she does after approaching him and noticing he was having trouble, however, was wrap both of her hands around one of his injured fists. He looked at her without much sign of a distinct emotion on his face. If any emotion was visible on his face, though, it was likely just a slight curiosity. Sage was wondering what she was going to do, and he felt somewhat disadvantaged whenever someone had their hands on him, unless it was in a way that was clearly kind, like a hug from his dear sister that he'd abandoned to come here...

As the girl spoke to him, she was helpful. She told Sage that he had been putting too much strength into his punches, and that he needed to focus more on how he was making his fist. Informing him that he was lucky he didn't break his thumb, he was surprised that she was helping him this much, even though he hadn't requested any assistance. Perhaps she was just a kind soul. Sage liked people like that. Kind people who just wanted to help reminded him of his sister.

Then, an offer approached Sage's ears. The girl said that she could help him learn how to punch properly, which caused a small smile of gratitude to draw across Sage's face. Before he could say that he'd love the help, however, she continued to speak. Her words were flowing quickly, almost like a faucet that wouldn't turn completely off. It didn't really bother him, though. It was nice to have someone outside of Parsley and Affron who actually wanted to talk to him.

This girl from Four seemed really intent on assisting, as she even said that she'd help him get his knuckles cleaned up and wrap them so that he could be properly be prepared for the punching bag.

Then, she finally seemed to realize that she hadn't even gotten an answer from him yet, as she said, "Only if you want to, of course." There was a smile on the girl's face, and Sage gave a nod.

"Sure! That'd be great, actually. I really appreciate it," he told her. "I'm Sage, by the way," he introduced himself. He hoped that he could get her name in return. After all, someone being so friendly to him deserved to be referred to as more than just 'one of those girls from Four.'

488 words

OOC: I love your post! Keep up the great writing!

[Cameo {RIP Charlie}]

Let other’s speak Chaos! That’s always been a balancing difficulty of mine. Either my words seek no interest in fluttering, or they ramble beyond control of stopping… And after a few beers, it’s usually the latter. Though finally my voice breaches to a pause; and the other with ’12’ woven into his training attire, is provided a chance to speak. For a mere moment my breath is contained, curious that maybe I’ve tattooed too harsh of a first impression. ‘Least he isn’t sprinting off immediately? Yet…

A desirable response licks past his lips, enveloping a larger grin across my own. To feel appreciation, if only for my offer, is spectacular. With Lightning’s grudge weighing against me, and the other O’Hanas being miles away, it’s a sensation I assumed I’d never be graced with again. We journey over to a nearby medical kit, not bothering with the actual station, and he further welcomes me with a formal introduction. Now to deliver my personal joke from Home.

“I’m Sage, to.” But giggles crack my demeanor before I can be convincing. It’s not the same when it’s not a drunk I’m performing the joke upon. “Kidding.” I reassure with a waving gesture. “Once I did that while meeting three new people at the same time. Claimed each of their names, while giving each of them a personal handshake. They looked at me like I was crazy.” More laughter plagues my words, because I truly am insane. “I’m Chaos O’Hana.” I share in full, proud by my last name.

Alcohol wipes are retrieved from the kit, and I take it upon myself to care for his minor slashes across his knuckles. “So why’d you volunteer, Sage?” I question, using his given name in my ongoing strategy of remembering it. If a name is used verbally three times, it’s most likely to never be forgotten. And people adore when their name is memorized. After working in a preschool for three years, it’s a talent I had to acquire. “I sort of figured only career Districts would volunteer. Was a bit surprised while watching the reaping recaps. Some of the lowers had more turnouts then One and Two.” Again my voice rambles, until I notice it once again.

My lips close once more, furrowing into yet another smirk. Curiously my eyes gaze towards him, seeking the knowledge of his reason. While absorbing his explanation, I conjure some clothe to envelope each our individual hands within- in proper preparation for overtaking a punching bag.

[kap]

Sage Scarborough

"I'm Sage, too," the girl said jokingly when Sage introduced himself. He let out a small laugh, knowing that she was messing with him. The girl let out her own series of giggles, and told Sage what she'd done earlier when meeting three new people at the same time. He thought it was funny, and gave an awkward and somewhat nervous smile. He wasn't used to people talking to him in such a friendly way, that this was a new experience for him.

The girl from Four introduced herself as Chaos O'Hana. That was when he remembered her from the reaping. She and her brother had both volunteered for the Games, and it made him think. What if Parsley had followed him into the Games by volunteering like Chaos had followed her brother? Though, Sage couldn't imagine such a thing happening. Parsley was too peaceful of an individual to put herself forward for a death match. At least, that's what the young Scarborough boy felt was true.

O'Hana, the boy thought. Interesting name. Then, he spotted the pendant she wore around her neck on a silver chain. Engraved on it was the girl's family name, O'Hana. It must have been nice to be able to afford something like that, specially engraved. Sage didn't feel too jealous, though, as he was grateful for what he had. After all, if he didn't make it out of the Games, he wouldn't need money anymore anyway, as he wouldn't be alive to spend it on anything.

Chaos began caring for Sage's wounds, although he knew how to himself. He didn't tell her this, but Parsley had taught him plenty of first aid and survival skills over the years. It was just that combat had never been a part of it all. Parsley was too gentle of a person to want to teach her dear brother how to fight someone. It just wasn't in her nature, and Sage had never had the desire to learn until now, when he needed it to survive.

"So why'd you volunteer, Sage?" Chaos inquired, catching the boy from the lowest District slightly off guard. He had barely told anyone why he volunteered. As far as he could remember, he hadn't even told Parsley. Affron was the only one who knew. Though, it wasn't like it was a huge secret. He simply just hadn't shared that information with many people. It wasn't because he didn't want to but simply because he didn't find a need to. The only person who'd asked him had been the only person who got a response, and that was Affron.

Before Sage replied to her question, Chaos continued on with her words.

“I sort of figured only career Districts would volunteer. Was a bit surprised while watching the reaping recaps. Some of the lowers had more turnouts then One and Two.” What she'd said was true, and he agreed with her on the aspect of things that she had deemed surprising. She was right; it was rather shocking to see some of the lower Districts having more volunteers than the upper most Districts. Sage nodded to show his agreement. Then he remembered that she'd asked him a question. He'd been so intent on listening to her speak, that he almost had forgotten.

"Uhm, he began, "Well, it might seem like a dumb decision, but I did it because I don't have the best life back. My family is really poor, and we don't really have much for income. I wanted to go into the Games to either win the money from my family, or, if I fail, just get away from my life. The only part of my life that really matters to me other than my sister at this point is Affron and well... he kind of followed me here."

His explanation was more in-depth than even the one he had given to Affron, but for some reason, he found this girl to be easy to open up to. Chaos had a kind heart and a listening mind. He could tell that she had to be an older sister, or perhaps even a mother. Though, he doubted the latter due to her age. He gave a nervous smile and then proceeded to remain quiet as Chaos worked on his wounded hands.

710 words

OOC: N/A

[Cameo {RIP Charlie}]

Zealous fingers steady to nearly a void of work upon Sage’s knuckles. The explanation that speaks through his vocals is not one that I was expecting. A chance to better his family’s existence, most certainly- though not escape from it, if he shall fail. It would be an option of the two either way, but to hear such being actually verbally expressed is a bit harsh to swallow. Life for us O’Hanas has consistently been beyond challenging, though I’d never even consider departure from such; guilt would plague me for the mere idea…guess unconsciously I have done thus in a different manner.

Are we selfish for our actions? Or the opposite? Most likely, we’ll never discover the answer.

Hydrogen peroxide bubbles against the minor scrapes, and the first aid halts there. Can only hope I won’t have to tend to more severe injuries, though that’s extremely doubtful. What’s to come in the future is dreadful, creating a further crave for yet another beer. Perhaps this Stranger is in need of one as well, by my absorption of his words. For now, I contain on continuing my bad influence upon society’s youth. First positive talents must be exchanged, then maybe some poor ones will follow.

For once my fluttering words have breached to a rest, as I’m unsure how to respond to his reason. There’s an instinct to reassure him that he will return to his Home, to a better Life; yet I can’t. It’s Lightning’s survival I must entirely concentrate on. But his Friend’s choice of following him to here, is one I can relate to.

“He must really care about you then. I know all too well about following someone into a Game.” I share in a hushed volume. Still Lightning’s furious with me doing such. Fortunately for Affron, it doesn’t appear that Sage carries a similar perspective as my Brother does towards our decision. Though still, I’m unaware of Sage’s true opinion. “How do you feel about what Affron did?” I wonder out loud, curious if I’m the only one suffering from another’s reaction.

Four hands become secured in elastic cloth, to protect the knuckles from further harm. My head gestures towards the punching bags. “Let’s try again, shall we?” I offer, taking the initiative to travel over to our inanimate enemies. “Now stance is quite important. You need to feel comfortable, while still being in a good position to deliver powerful attacks.” An example is given, as I stand sideways- dancing on the balls of my feet. “This way you’re also a smaller target.” My illustration breaks, so that I can grab onto Sage’s fist once more. “Again, never tuck your thumb in. And you wan’t your middle and pointer finger’s knuckles to lead the punch.” The tip of my own finger drags across the two knuckles I’m referring to.

“Best strategy is to go for a one-two combination of punches. When against an opponent, this makes it difficult for them to predict where the attacks are going. And you want to aim for the throat, or the stomach. They can see a punch coming towards their face far too easily. Following along?” I joke, pausing my words for a breath. “Well, give it a try.” I encourage, raising another smile for confidence.

[kap]

s a g e   s c a r b o r o u g h

Chaos’s fingers were nimble and quick as she worked on Sage’s wound. He didn’t bother to inform her of the fact that he was rather good at first aid on his own, and simply allowed her to continue with what she was doing as she tended to his wounds. As the hydrogen peroxide met his wounds, it stung, but Sage tried his best to ignore it. If he weren’t able to handle small amounts of pain like that, he’d never be able to handle the amount of pain he was sure to endure in the arena. As Chaos finished bandaging up Sage’s knuckles, he was in thought about what he’d just told her, about him volunteering and Affron deciding to follow.

There was a bit of a feeling of regret in the boy’s heart. He gelt guilty for leaving his sister, and for making Affron feel obligated to come into the Games with him. Though, he tried not to think about it too much. Unfortunately, what the O’Hana girl said next didn’t really help with that. She mentioned that his friend must really care about him. Sage knew this was true. The boy also knew that he cared about Affron just as much in return. Then, Chaos dropped words that caused Sage’s body to tense. She asked him how he felt about what Affron did, following him in by volunteering like he had. Sage’s eyes looked downward and away from the girl for a moment, as if trying to avoid the question. He decided that he needed to answer anyway, though, as he hated to seem rude by not doing so.

“Well,” he said quietly, “I mean, I’m not happy about the fact that he felt that he needed to. In all honesty, I wish he’d just stayed at home where he’d be safe. Though, at the same time, I’m glad he cares about me enough to want to protect me, you know?”

Sage hoped that what he said had made enough sense. He didn’t want to sound ridiculous in whatever he was saying. After all, he got made fun of enough back home, that he’d really rather it not happen in his last days before what was almost definitely imminent death for him. With over fifty tributes, though, wasn’t it inevitable that someone there wouldn’t like him, and would find a way to torment him before they even made it into the arena? He was sure that someone would do something to frustrate him at some point.

Soon after Sage’s hands were wrapped for attacking the punching bag properly, Chaos spoke to him again. She told him, as well as showed him, what the best stance was for fighting in hand-to-hand combat. This made Sage wonder how much experience the older girl had on the topic. After all, she was from a Career District, so he wouldn’t have been surprised if the answer to that question was ‘plenty’. He did feel, however, that she may have been too kind to be the typical career. From what Sage had seen, most Careers didn’t seem to be the friendliest folks.

Chaos gave him reasoning for the stance she was showing him, and he nodded in understanding. Then, she proceeded to show him how to properly form a fist. He was grateful for this, as he certainly didn’t want to hurt himself when trying to prevent other people from hurting him. Sage began to wish he’d had this knowledge back home to use against the large amount of bullies that tended to target him for some unknown reason. They would always make fun of him for anything from his bad luck to his appearance or just how poor he was, even if they were just as impoverished as he was.

The girl with a four stitched into her training clothes was guiding Sage along about how to punch, such as how you should lead your punches, and what was the best combination of punches. She asked if he was following along. He had been doing his best to comprehend everything that he was being told, so he told her.

“Yeah, I think I understand.”

She instructed him to give it a try, and he did just that. Sage stood in the stance he was instructed to, formed his fists properly, and delivered his punches to the sand-filled bag. This time, his nails didn’t dig into his palm, and the blows seemed to be stronger with much more of an affect on his target. When he’d hit the bag quite a few times, and was doing rather well, he stopped, turning to Chaos with a smile.

“Thanks a lot for teaching me. I appreciate it,” Sage informed her. “Is there anything I can do for you in return?” he questioned.

-

788 words

Table by Lancelot

[Cameo {RIP Charlie}]

An assuring nod bobbles my head when Sage verbally complies his comprehension. It’s about time that someone understands me! Flashes of my departure torments my vision for a mere moment. The raised voices of my Siblings brutally scratch across my hearing senses. My heart jolts in fearful curiosity over whether they’re remaining furious with me. Have the collected their tears for when the true horrors will reign upon their projector? Or are they continuing to weep in the hatred of my decision? A harsh swallow gulps down my throat, while I tend to concentrating on the current bearings around me.

Further fondness grows for the boy named Sage, as he pursues my instructions willingly- unlike how my Siblings replied to me. Keen attention steadies on his structure, from both him and myself alike. He absorbs my advice with avid determination, which physically ignites positively well in his punches to follow. Now his deliveries are favorable, aiming and transporting with -what appears to me- as more purpose. His dear friend will hopefully be elated by his improvements, and comforted in that their self protection is increasing. A prideful grin sketches across my lips in an automatic response; until Sage’s previous words, over Affron volunteering after him, takes me aback.

It’s evident that Lightning doesn’t appreciate my overwhelming need to protect him. He’s beyond dissatisfied that I followed him to the stage of volunteering. Far more then a wish desired for me to remain at home with the Others. What has come of our relationship has beyond sickened me with confusion. Would I have altered my decision if I knew all of this turmoil would unravel? Certainly not. Even if he despises me until my final breath, I will continue to forcefully place his life before my own. Nothing can change my perspective, not even his hatred towards it.

The conclusion of Sage’s attacks against the inanimate fortunately yanks me back into the presence. A smirk returns to my cheeks, as my eyes find his’. Gratitude seeps from his vocals, and I simply shrug it off- still attempting to pull my thoughts back to attendance within the Training Center. Would my Siblings approve of my current actions? Each of them surpass being caring people. But would they care about me aiding a potential future opponent? Over fifty Tributes will coil into the Arena; so hopefully my enemies will be purely strangers.

A foe relationship doesn’t seem to be brewing, as Sage offers if he can do anything for me in return. Light giggles brush through my throat over his adorable reaction. He truly is sweet. He shouldn’t belong here. There’s an instinct to sway him from never battling my Brother within the Arena, but Lightning’s response to him would be far worse. Can only have faith that an encounter will not occur. I’m nearly ready to wave him off, maybe even part ways; until I realize there is something reasonable I’ve been craving.

“Are you much of a drinker?” Suddenly sparks from my tongue, elation intertwining with my tone. “With Lightning being…” My sentence cuts, recalling that I don’t speak of personal issues with anyone. “I could use a drinking buddy for a little bit.” Finally excitement controls my persona, hopeful for an agreement. A few hours that resemble my home District would be pristine. And numerous times I would sneak off from the other O’Hanas, and delve into the drunken atmosphere of a Pub. Of course nothing here could be even close to identical as that; but good company and some more drinks would certainly suffice.

Once acceptance is granted, I’m leading the way to the elevator. Regrettably a Bar does not reside within this damn facility. But there’s an island counter on the fourth floor, and plenty of beverages that can make even an alcoholic overjoyed. “Now this I can teach you a lot about.” I proclaim as we’re lifted within elevator to my level. “Though I don’t recommend doing this when it gets closer to the due date of entering the Arena. Only a professional drinker, such as myself, could handle that.” Is jokingly suggested.

Liquors, that I’m even foreign to, welcome us to my personal entertainment. My hand gestures for him to settle in one of the barstools, before I begin fumbling through the alcohol options. “Is there anything you’ve always wanted to try? I’m more of a beer person myself. But my beautiful friend Tara taught me a few mixtures.” I offer him, while I open a beer for myself to start with. It’s usually advised to begin with liquor, but I wouldn’t mind crafting two drinks of Sage’s choice for us. “There’s bloody marries, mojitos, screw drivers…” A few are listed incase he truly is a virgin to these wonderful creations. “Or just beer.”

[kap]

s a g e   s c a r b o r o u g h

Taken a bit off guard by what Chaos asked him, Sage raised an eyebrow at her. Was he much of a drinker? The boy had never touched alcohol in his life. Though, it wasn't from a lack of wanting to. In all honesty, with all the trouble he went through in his life, had he had alcohol to rely on back in District Twelve, he may not have felt the need to have volunteered. Unfortunately, Sage and his family never would have been able to gather enough of the money needed to afford it, even had the thought crossed their mind to do so. Though, Sage wondered if Parsley would have tried to supply with him beer or something, had she known it may have had a chance of stopping him from volunteering.

"I've never had any alcohol before, to be honest with you," he informs her.

Chaos begins to speak of Lightning, who, if Sage remembers correctly, is her brother that she volunteered to follow into the Games like Affron had done for him. She cuts off, however, and Sage doesn't question it. He knows that matter like that would have to be rather difficult to speak of. Then, she mentions that she could use a drinking buddy. Sage's mind races. He began to think that, perhaps, if he did drink with Chaos, he could relieve himself of all the mental pain he was feeling. Though, he wasn't sure if he should, as he knew Parsley would never approve. Parsley will never know, he realizes. Then he gives a nod.

"Sure. I'll give it a try," Sage agrees with Chaos's request.

It doesn't take long after his agreement that they've made their way out of the training area and into the elevator. His new-found friend begins giving him advice, telling him things such as not to drink too close to going into the arena. He doesn't question her, nodding in response. When the two tributes reach a counter on the fourth floor, Chaos motions for Sage to take a seat, which he does. As she starts spouting out different types of alcohol for Sage to try, he feels a bit overwhelmed, not sure what to say. Though, after a moment of thought, he gives her a response.

"I think I'll just try a beer," he laughs. After all, as someone who'd never so much as had a sip of the stuff before, he figured that starting out simple was the way to go.

-

409 words

Table by Lancelot

[Cameo {RIP Charlie}]

Confusion contorts the expression upon my recently acquired acquaintance. Baffled concern furrows my own eyebrows, internally wondering if he’s second guessing the consumption of an alcoholic substance. This close to encountering the Arena, nearly guaranteed death, and a promised struggling endurance, perhaps this is not the time to meet such a liquid. Though for myself, this is a pristine moments to be overcome by this poison. Far too often in the past I played the role of a bad influence; being the first to introduce these drinks to my Twin. But are these the proper days to continue my horrible example?

After a lengthy moment, a request from Sage breaches my worries. A chuckle intertwines with his words, and I’m curious as to why. Maybe too many options caused his brain to dance with uncertainty? The decision of Beer is probably the most intelligent, though halts my chance of practicing the craft Tara had gifted me with. Still I comply happily, simply satisfied that company has joined me over some beverages of my preference. Another bottle sings of sizzling bubbles as I open it, and pass over Sage’s drink of choice.

“Smart kid.” I compliment, though quickly question if I supplied an insult instead. “Sorry. I even call my Twin a kid on occasion. Guess that’s just comes natural being the man of the house.” An apology and humorous explanation attempts to settle my potential accident. Another sip of my beer swims down my throat. And with that, it’s the hour to provoke a higher joyous occasion.

A barstool is taken by myself, since my required work in bartending is limited. Occupying a seat next to a fellow baby-face reminds me greatly of home. Numerous times the O’Hana tribe would depart from the safety of our house, to gather together- often around a local Pub. Despite the fact that I should have, my protection halted at controlling the age a member was permitted to drink. I was fourteen at the time of my first beer; and as long as they were older then that, I wouldn’t be a hypocrite to one joining the party.

What possible entertainment can be ignited around here though? It appears to be solely training and seriousness- though not if I can help it. Hopefully some ideas can be sparked from Sage. “So I’m very big on enforcing positivity.” I share after the silence has roamed for too long. “There must be something good about your Home district? What did you guys do for fun? Maybe we can do something similar? And once we’re a little buzzed, it’ll be even more fun.”