electrifying {arrows}

[d9 kristof parks {ems}]

Ivar Hammerfell
Seventeen | Male | District Two

It was hard spending every single day locked inside a training center. Learning and watching and watching and learning was the only aspect of it all leaving him bored, yet Ivar kept going. Giving up and stopping wouldn't allow anything. It wouldn't make him successful, and that was exactly what he wanted. Finding a trainer to take him seriously was hard. Perhaps he should stick to the survival stations and worry about hiding while everyone else was fighting, but that wasn't him. Ivar wanted in the middle of it all. The hunger games was the perfect chance for him to prove to everyone who had some sort of disability that it all was possible. While his legs rendered him basically useless, he made up for it. Being afraid wasn't an option, however, Ivar knew having no fear was deadly. Somewhere throughout the mass number of tributes someone would probably kill him unless he managed to kill them first.

Any type of water would throw him off. It would make him drown before anyone could save him. Hopefully someone would shield and protect him from the harsh realities of the world around, but right now all he wanted was a chance to find something to do. Boredom only became worse as the world crashed around him. Now wasn't the time to make friends, but it also was the perfect time to set differences aside and find someone who wasn't the enemy. Everyone here had the ultimate goal of surviving it all. They wanted to do something about it and even the score, but there wasn't anything to even. As far as Ivar was concerned, the world was beneath him, and they were only a stepping stone to the highest goal of all.

The crown at the end.

A shaky hand wrapped around an axe lying on the bottom of the wrack. The corners of his lips twisted into a cocky grin for only a moment as he felt the balance of it. Getting used to it. Weapons that allowed him to stretch further became his ultimate wish, and now he wondered if anyone would notice. If anyone would even care. Not that it mattered. He was used to it. Being a shadow was his entire life, and now he had the chance to finally learn how to become a person. Positioning himself against the wall, Ivar yearned for a challenge. Maybe someone would see him as weak, and this was the perfect timing. A crippled kid wouldn't stand a chance, but at least he knew his plan. And he wouldn't forget it. Fighting from low ground had him at the disadvantage, yet he relied on severing limbs. Then his enemy would be on his level, and Ivar would get the kill.

[googlefont="Irish Grover:400"]