Misses are Fatal // Lightning x Atlas {blitz}

[Arrows]

District Four Male of the 75th Hunger Games

    Everything was so fragile within the vortex of glass known as the Capitol. Its citizens were pale and porcelain as though dolls to their serpentine President. Their buildings were glazed with glass begging to be shattered by a single sinister flick. Even the Training Center was small in a sense of strength, the weapons were average and the trainers tediously useless. All around me the bodies of berated souls swiftly scatter to various stations struggling for sorrowful survival. Their fingers fiddle ferociously with whatever they can wrap themselves around in order to prolong the death sentence they have brought forth upon themselves. It is far from amusing, but still I have to admit their is a sense of respect I hold for them for even volunteering in the first place. 

    From my sister's side I enter the swarm watching while other competitors endlessly dive for something new to develop. While I watch I can't help but yearn for someone to entice my attention. To yearn for someone to demand that I be worried about what weapons they will yield. To yearn for someone to be a threat to every living being in this Center. Alas despite my dearest efforts I am forced to fall upon the measures of a challenge I know only the truly prepared would enter. A challenge made for those bred from the streets of the career districts and forged in the art of war. 

    Calmly I walk to the spear station, a land which I have lived for as long as I can recall. Within my hands I lift the slender spear as I let it spin like the tides through the sea. With a subtle surge I send it spinning above me as I roll forward several steps. From their like a snake striking a suffering secondary surviving creature I lunge forth securing the spear in my hands for just a second before it sails straight forward. Then as I stable myself the sound of it slipping through the skin of falsified flesh rings through my ears mirroring the song of success. I smile at its venomous touch has scarlet seeping from its place in the dummy's forehead. 

    Turning from my performance I spot the figure of a boy I have been dying to meet. His hair is blonde and his irises illuminated by the icy identity of death. I throw Atlas Lumiere a spear from my side and step out of his way to throw.

     "Alright Lumiere, lets see what you've got."

LIGHTNING  O'HANA

Sometimes our heads slip beneath the sea, and sometimes there's no way to breathe

[kousei ♚]

An air is desperation fills the atmosphere around our god-given instruments, we are all finite after all.

The realization crept into the back of my mind, a shot of worry in the moment but a sense of acceptance has washed over me with the after taste. Everyone's looking for a desperate escape route, a split second hope of survival that burns brighter than any candlelit flame. Am I really better than any of them?

It's a question better left unanswered, I don't dare let magnificence slip from my face. I have to be better than them and I have to act better than them, to walk around this training center with hope nestled in the palm of my hands like the hilt of a blade and dare them to spill the ichor running through these hollow veins.

So I force myself to not be phased when I spot the boy with another career district sewn to his top next to me at the javelin station. His name is... Lightning. His actions are fluid and in every spin of his spear that splits the air screams a determination that mirrors the desperation of the doomed and the damned that fill every corner in this center.

"Alright Lumiere, lets see what you've got."

Cutting through polar fantasies, I swear, I almost miss the spear he throws to me in an invitation.

I shrug my shoulders, hefting the spear at its shaft.

"Throwing things can be fun but-"

I draw my arm back and throw, the spear landing dead center in its chest and droplets of scarlet weeping from the wound; if I hit anything vital they would bleed out in minutes.

"Sometimes it's a lot more satisfying to make it close and personal."