stripped courage . charade . blitz

[cass]

p e t r a .

But can I change lives?
If I am nothing, if I am trying, I think I can
I step on broken glass, and dream of soft clouds

She stops focusing for only a moment, gaze flickering for a second towards the fence. The world around her within touch was always cold, and when she stared at the wilderness past her prison she yearns. Her desire to go home would always be her weakness.

Her punishment for not paying attention is a knife slicing open her forearm. She bits back a yell, instantly dancing away and out of range from the blade. The knife in her own hand falls to the grass and she cradles the bloody wound, releasing a hiss of anger as she glares at her opponent. The only person to blame here was herself and the anger that bubbled in her chest spoke to her disappointment.

“I’m going to medical,” the boy gives her a shrug, unbothered by her pain and more angered by the lack of skill she showed. Petra had a bad habit of losing focus when they trained in the fields by the fence. Anywhere else and she was driven and motivated by her desire to succeed, but here? She turns away, taking a deep breath as the blood spills onto her shirt. The wound wasn’t deep, but it was long and bothersome, she didn’t think it’d needed stitches.

The halls of the academy are quiet, tainted by the toxicity of the district’s desires. Petra had found herself as a product of others problems, warped into a means to benefit her handler. The medical bay is as empty as the school, only a single student inside as she enters. She never really finds herself at this end of the school, preferring to deal with her wounds and injuries by herself. But then, most of the time they were smacks or light grazes, hardly ever as bad as this new one.

“Hello, can you help me?” She smiles gently, offering her arm to the other girl.

elegant

[charade]

M E R C E D E S .

I hope no one does to you what you did to me
I wouldn't wish it upon you, no not anybody

Mercedes hummed quietly to herself as she fixed up the vases in the infirmary with fresh flowers. It was a joy to be able to help like this when she wasn’t training. While learning how to smite evildoers was an important part of becoming a successful career, there was more to surviving the games than simply a person’s skill with a weapon. There was first aid. Trapping. Firemaking. The survival skills were more important than most careers seemed to realize.

Small wonder their district hadn’t had a victor in over twenty years.

Someone came into the room asking for help, a brunette that she was fairly certain was a black eagle. “Yes, of course!” she beamed, the smile slowly sliding off when she saw the damage. She pursed her lips as she examined the wound. “Petra, right? You're under Edelgard's tutelage? I’m Mercedes.”

She tried to recall the gossip she’d heard about the other girl, some people said she was Edelgard’s daughter. Others said she had been homeless or something, that she hadn’t gotten into the school on her merits. But Mercedes thought she seemed pretty skilled anyway.

“Oh my,” she said as she raised Petra’s arm above heart level and applied pressure to it, a ribbon of crimson snaking down her arm.“Well, It doesn’t look like you’ll need stitches, but we’ll need the bleeding to stop before I patch you up.” She figured it would take a few more minutes.

“Holy mother, guide my hands.” she murmured under her breath as reached for the gauze on the nearby counter. With the nurse on break, this was her chance to really show off what she’d learned from helping out in the infirmary. “They really should be more careful when sparring down there,” she tutted disapprovingly. “Let me guess, this was one of the boys?”

elegant

[cass]

p e t r a .

But can I change lives?
If I am nothing, if I am trying, I think I can
I step on broken glass, and dream of soft clouds

On the inside, she cringes at the comment, hating the fact that everyone knew where she belonged and who she belonged to. She feels dirty, as though her existence was tied to the wants and demands of Edelgard; it was true, a reality that couldn’t be denied. She has little say in what she can do within the school and her routine outside of classes is tied to the limitations that had been placed by Edelgard.

On the outside, she smiles, nodding her head and twisting her lips into a warm smile as she looks at the blonde. Petra takes a moment, trying her best to recall any information she knows about Mercedes, but it evades her. There’s a spark of annoyance burning within her chest, there is too much importance placed on people’s stations and names in this school. For her to not remember or falter or speak incorrectly to the wrong person-

Edelgard would be upset. It had been drilled into Petra time and time again that there is a certain way to speak to people, a delicacy when addressing others of nobility that could leave bad impressions that reflected poorly on her handler.

“Yes! I’m under Edelgard’s care,” Petra tries her best to match Mercedes’s cheerfulness. She flinches as the girl grabs her arm, raising it up and inspecting it with quick and careful accuracy. Within seconds she’s formed a plan and can tell that the wound doesn’t need stitches. Petra’s relieved, knowing fully well that stitches meant time away from training. Time away from training meant you were no longer the top of the class.

“I’m relieved,” she sighs. Her expression changes for a fraction of a second, revealing a moment of shock as Mercedes praises the gods. It was a peculiar thing to hear and something Petra was not familiar with. Out in the woods, there are no gods or saviors or guiding hands, it was survival through grit and support. You could only rely on the people around you.

“It was one of the boys, they can be rough, but it was my own fault,” she gave the other girl a rueful grin, “I got distracted. The bleeding is easing off, and Petra watches the way the blood is gently wiped away, impressed with the care she’s being given.

“What did you mean?” The question slips out like a snake in the grass and she bites her tongue, silently cursing herself. She doesn’t know if it’s a rude thing to ask, or if it’ll raise questions and in that case, Edelgard would tell her to just keep her mouth shut. But it’s too late now, so she continues, “the mother part you said.”

elegant

[charade]

M E R C E D E S .

I hope no one does to you what you did to me
I wouldn't wish it upon you, no not anybody

Ah, so she had it right. Edelgard’s special pupil. It would be rude to ask for specifics, but she found that she was curious. Very curious. Petra didn’t have the air around her that most of them did. They were the children of the elite, and they acted accordingly. Petra seemed a little out of her depth. A little out of place.

They can be rough, but it was my own fault.

Mercedes pursed her lips disapprovingly. No. That was what her father had always said when he hurt her. When he hurt her mother. He’d convinced her that it was her fault until her mother took a stand and got them away from him. She’d learned then that humans were more monstrous than any mutt the game-makers could design for the arena.

Unacceptable, for Petra to think that.

She cleaned the wound out and then applied antiseptic. “This will sting a little,” she murmured. Deliver us from the evil one, she thought. Save us from the machinations of Pearlpelt, the Bane of all that is good and holy in this world. Men like her father, like some of the boys’ downstairs were his pawns, whether they knew it or not.

Perhaps she should find out who was going out of their way to injure this sparring partners and knock his dick in the dirt.

This was the third such injury in two days.

She tied the bandages off before responding to Petra. She hadn’t realized she’d said that out loud, but she was not ashamed of her faith.

“Some people pray to Ripred. What many people are unaware of is that in ages past, there was a whole pantheon.” Silksharp. Saint Gregor. Twitchtip. She explained about the latter. “I was asking Twitchtip for guidance. The holy mother that was martyred in the pit. Her spirit is the guardian of women everywhere.” She’d been taught about her by her mother, and she’d tried to follow the tenants of the Chronicles ever since.

She turned around to the counter. Petra had a lot to learn about the way things worked at the academy, and she felt protective of her already.“If you’d like, I could teach you a few moves sometime. I take my training very seriously.”

elegant

[cass]

p e t r a .

But can I change lives?
If I am nothing, if I am trying, I think I can
I step on broken glass, and dream of soft clouds

Mercedes doesn’t approve, lips pursed in such a delicate sign of annoyance that Petra almost misses it. Her mother had been like that, holding her tongue when Petra misbehaved in a way she deemed unfit. But she’d never spoken up, her father to quick to praise her for punching a boy in the face after he had bullied one of the other kids. There were endless times when she had caught her mother’s disapproving frown, but more times when it had shifted to fondness as Petra had given her a cheeky grin.

She sucked in, biting the inside of her cheek as Mercedes applied the ointment. It stung, nothing too surprising, but still enough for her to tense at the moment. She’d been through worse, suffered through more pain than this. She would never grow used to it, not like how some people could learn how to ignore the bit of broken flesh. That would always confuse her, watching as one of the other students whack another across the skull, only to see them shake it off as if it had been nothing.

Pain was pain, there was no shame in feeling it or expressing it. She didn’t believe you were braver for ignoring its existence. Her father had been the same, and it had allowed for the other men and women within their group to feel more comfortable in expressing their own agony. Fewer people died and fewer people became severely injured or riddled with infection because they were able to speak up.

“Twitchtip,” she echoed the word, it felt foreign on her tongue, it didn’t belong there. None of the books Edelgard had given her to read had mentioned anything of the sort. She had heard of this ‘Ripred’ through her acquaintances and a few scattered mentions on dirtied pages. But a guardian of women? Such a thing existed?

Petra was not one to believe in gods or religion, but she would never mock or ridicule another’s faith. Just as she allowed the earth to guide her, others chose spiritual figures. As long as they harmed no one and did not discriminate she could listen to them speak. “She sounds like a brave God,” she mused.

Her helper turned away, and Petra admired the handiwork she had performed, nodding with approval. “I’d love that,” she said. In her world the weapons were simple and often improvised, but in this one there were so many. Too many for her to learn and master so quickly. The sword was her friend, it always had been, but Edelgard expected her to learn the spear, axe, bow, knife, and many others. She was overwhelmed.

“I certainly need a little more help,” she flexed her arm, grunting as the skin pulled. It hurt, but it was manageable. “I think I’m good to go now, are you?”

elegant

[charade]

M E R C E D E S .

I hope no one does to you what you did to me
I wouldn't wish it upon you, no not anybody

“I draw strength from the Goddess,” she said in response as she filled out the incident report. “Yes, she is brave.” But now was not the time for a retelling of the fifth chronicle. The head nurse returned from her smoke break a moment later and Mercedes thanked her for the opportunity to help out with a small and respectful bow and turned back to Petra. “Yes, I’m good to go now. Shall we head back to the sparring area?”

As they walked towards their destination, she studied everything around her with the utmost care, eyeing the hallways critically. Ever alert, ever vigilant. It was important never let yourself be caught off-guard. Some students were always on the hunt for weakness. It bothered her to think that Petra might have gotten injured as part of a hazing ritual. Or because someone had felt like being malicious.

There was of course, the possibility that she wasn’t as skilled as the others, but that was no reason to cut someone. The weak needed to be protected, not crushed underfoot. She’d been weak as a child; eager to please her father, even as he reduced her to less than nothing. Never again. Nor would she let another person be harmed when she could make a difference.

The escort mission done, Mercedes turned to Petra, her gaze drifting past her to look at the racks of unused weapons. A thought struck her then as she was wondering about the girl with no past and no family name to boast of. What better time to help her with her training than right now? Most of her daily responsibilities had already been taken care of. Her eyes wandered over to the bows.

She was confident with those, but the laceration on Petra’s arm could get smacked rather painfully by the bowstring depending on which hand Petra was dominant with. She selected a pair of one-handed axes instead, hefting them experimentally in her hands. “I don’t have anywhere to be for an hour or so.” She smacked the flat of the axeheads on her thighs. “Could see about a lesson in guard work right now.”

She smiled kindly.

This was a chance to help someone, as the Chronicles said to do.

It was also a chance to test her skills against someone new, as long as Petra was up for it.

elegant

[cass]

p e t r a .

But can I change lives?
If I am nothing, if I am trying, I think I can
I step on broken glass, and dream of soft clouds

It seemed that hyper-vigilance wasn’t a trademark of living your life on the run. Mercedes shared the same wariness, and Petra watched as the other girl observed, conscious of all the little bits going on around them. It was a habit, ingrained within her since she had been old enough to walk, being aware of your surroundings kept you alive. She had heard of the stories of children being killed by mutts, or adults simply vanishing into thin air. Father said they’d probably been taken by Peacekeepers. He’d leave it at that, but the haunted look in his eyes hinted at terrors she wasn’t even aware of.

A short walk later and they were in the training room once more. Mercedes eyed each of the weapons with familiarity, whilst Petra watched with apprehension. As her fingers hovered over the axe she couldn’t prevent her unease from tying knots in her stomach.

The sword was the only weapon she was familiar with, the only weapon they really had access to out in the woods. Axes were used for cutting wood, she had learned how to use them as somewhat of a backup weapon, but not with the same skill she handled a sword. Bows were perhaps the only other weapon she was comfortable with. Hunting down food, however, was different from combative archery, she had learned that in her first week.

Mercedes held the axe with such ease that Petra could already tell she was in trouble. The weapon felt clunky in her own hands, and she received it with a grimace, watching as Mercedes eagerly smacked her own against her palm and thighs. The kind smile she expressed seemed at odds with the challenging glint to her eye and words.

She sighed, fingers tightening on the hilt as she gathered her wits. “I’ll try my best,” she said, frowning in concentration, feeling the weight of the axe against her calloused palms. It was so unbalanced compared to a sword. She couldn’t swing it the same way she did when she chopped wood, she’d be too open, essentially defenceless. From the side perhaps? It was the only idea she could come up with, so she stepped forwards and swung.

elegant

[charade]

M E R C E D E S .

I hope no one does to you what you did to me
I wouldn't wish it upon you, no not anybody

“Your best is what the academy wants!” she beamed. And the district as well. It was their duty as careers to represent their home with the proper amount of respect. They were supposed to be a district that the poor unfortunate souls in the lower regions could look up to as a shining example of excellence. Sadly, districts one and four had been beating them soundly for decades.

Longer than she’d even been alive. Cricket Antoinette was ancient, and it had been drilled into Mercedes head that the district needed to be saved from further embarrassment one of these years. She prayed to the Goddess every reaping that if she was worthy, she would be chosen. Thus far, that prayer had gone unanswered. But that was neither here nor there as she took up a position across from the other girl.

Petra swung like she was trying to chop down a tree. Perplexing. Mercedes blocked it without a second thought, catching the strike with the middle of her handle. Her movements starting to flow like water as she put her game face on. The smile dropped away, the glint in her eyes became calculating. For the next few minutes, Petra was an enemy to be vanquished. She followed the arc of the next swing with her footwork, moving dizzyingly fast as she rolled off of Petra’s back.

She dropped the axe in her hand, catching it deftly as she flipped it around, then she swung her war-axe upwards like a golf club, the ax head hooking Petra’s axe head and pulling it out of her hands, sending to the ground with a light bounce and a soft thump. The smile returned as she picked the weapon up and handed it back to Petra. "I can see you haven’t had much practice with these, don’t worry, you’ll be learning a lot here.” She slipped back into a fighting stance and started moving around Petra carefully.

Like a cat intently stalking a mouse.

“HI-YA!” she shouted, swinging the weapon carefully but dangerously as she closed the distance between them, working her way through a series of combat movements that she’d memorized for this weapon. In another moment or two, she’d be disarming the other girl again.

As long as she pulled the move off correctly.

elegant

[cass]

p e t r a .

But can I change lives?
If I am nothing, if I am trying, I think I can
I step on broken glass, and dream of soft clouds

It turned out that trees are a lot different than fighting a living, breathing, thinking being. The swing that greeted her opponent is blocked instantly and Petra frowned, gritting her teeth as the jarring halt vibrated all the way up to her skull. It rattled her teeth and made her fingers ache, she didn’t like this, but Petra never quit. When things got hard she dug herself in further and refused to budge. Weakness was not a reason to let go, but a reason to learn and grow and strengthen yourself.

Mercedes, compared to Petra, had a deathly serious expression that seemed at odds with her generally cheerful and friendly disposition. The roll off her back caught her off guard and she stumbled a step forwards, catching herself before she could fall. Petra was impressed at the speed that her new friend had, the way she moved was agile and graceful. There was a lot to be learned.

Moments later, the axe is no longer in Petra’s hand, instead, it’s tumbling onto the floor between them. She blinked, staring for a moment at the place it had been, her fingers stinging in protest.

“Yes, I’m more familiar with the traditional use of an axe,” she responded, running a hand through her hair. Mercedes picked the weapon up, giving it back to Petra with a smile. Her hands wrapped around the hilt, lips pursed as she tried to think of a better way to use the weapon. Mercedes moved back into her fighting stance, giving her opponent little time to even get her thoughts together.

The girl shouted and Petra tensed, stepping backward as she swung the axe at her. The movement was controlled, aiming to disarm her quickly and effectively. Instead of trying to counter the swing, Petra flowed with it, twisting herself away from the strike and ducking under. She stepped in closer, closing the distance between them within a moment.

Grabbing Mercedes' axe wrist, Petra used the rest of the momentum, tugging her arm at the same time she swept Merecede’s legs out from underneath her. Petra cushioned the blow, fingers still wrapped tightly around her wrist as the girl landed on her backside.

elegant

[charade]

M E R C E D E S .

I hope no one does to you what you did to me
I wouldn't wish it upon you, no not anybody

Petra had some talent, even if she was lacking in skill. That was probably why Edelguard was tutoring her or whatever. It was fun. Perhaps she should invite her to tea after this. One should always make time for the finer things in life. Her mind came back to the present. It was important not to lose focus.

It was a pretty standard move, rolling with the attack, ducking under it. Not something Mercedes would have done personally, in an axe fight. But then Petra grabbed her wrist. Mercedes froze, was something wrong? Did she want the match to be over? She barely had time to think about it as she was yanked forward and then Petra’s leg was behind hers, knocking her over.

She hit the ground with a thump, dropping her axe with a clatter and feeling bewildered.

That move was not in the handbook.

Mercedes stared up at Petra in confusion. That was—well it was unsportsmanlike. Dirty. If a career fought like that at an exhibition tournament they’d get disqualified for conduct unbecoming! That wasn’t sparring that was—

“What—what was that?” she spluttered, pulling on Petra’s arm to get to her feet indignantly. She rested her hands on her hips accusingly. “You could have—you could have really hurt me!” Mercedes rubbed at her wrist, thankful that it hadn’t gotten twisted. She replayed the moment in her head.

Sweeping her feet out from under her? Grabbing the hand, she’d been holding the axe with? It was unethical. Mercedes was used to people trying to go overboard and actually injure their sparring partners, it happened all the time, but this? No proper form, no warning, just the sneakiest and most underhanded thing she’d ever witnessed.

“That was dirty,” she said, pursing her lips. “Street-fighting isn’t on the lesson plan at this academy.”

elegant

[cass]

p e t r a .

But can I change lives?
If I am nothing, if I am trying, I think I can
I step on broken glass, and dream of soft clouds

The confusion on Mercedes’s face confused Petra and she found herself frowning, brows furrowed as she tried to figure out what she had done wrong. She’d completed the task, a fight was about survival and in her position, Mercedes would be defeated with one swing of her axe.

When she finally spoke Petra flinched at the tone, taking a step back in confusion as she listened to her opponent talk. Mercedes rubbed at her wrist, Petra was sure she hadn’t damaged it, she’d been careful, a lot more gentle then she’d have been in a real fight. Perhaps that was it? She hadn’t been as gentle as she thought she’d been and she’d hurt the other girl’s wrist.

She was wrong. Mercedes tripped over her words, declaring that Petra could have seriously injured her. This confused her even more, considering fights ended up with people dead. Getting hurt was just a consequence of fighting, it was inevitable. What did Mercedes think happened in a battle? Petra bit the question back, knowing that it wouldn’t help the situation at all.

Street-fighting? Petra’s frown deepened, her fingers loosening on the axe. Uncertainty rolled in her stomach, Edelgard had not informed her about any of this. Were there rules to fighting? It didn’t make sense to Petra, but perhaps there was something obvious she was missing.

“I’m confused,” she said, rubbing the back of her head as she looked at Mercedes. “Fighting is about survival, you have to do what it takes to win so you don’t die.” Who in this world had the privilege of fighting for fun? Were they not training for the games where they would have to kill or be killed?

“What kind of fighting do you do, then?” If she knew what she was doing wrong she would fix it. Follow the rules that she had broken before this reached Edelgard again and she was punished. She needed to be more careful, ask for more books, and probe her handler for more information.

elegant

[charade]

M E R C E D E S .

I hope no one does to you what you did to me
I wouldn't wish it upon you, no not anybody

“I’m confused,” Petra said, and Mercedes mentally agreed that she was as well. She’d never seen a move like that. It incorporated hand to hand! A grappling move in the middle of an axe fight and then tripping. It still frazzled her. Nobody fought like that. She’d watched a hundred fights in dozens of games. It was a simple back and forth. Gash to gash. A broken bone here, a shallow cut there.

A severed limb if you were lucky.

It was rare that anyone changed their weapon of choice mid-fight, and even then, she couldn’t think of a time someone had gone for such a brute force disarm, unless they literally chopping off someone’s sword hand. She was beyond puzzled. Where had Petra learned how to do a move like that? Was she in the habit of getting into brawls? Where was the finesse?

“I—“ What kind of question was that? She fought the way they were taught at the school. The proper way. Mercedes rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly. “Well, this isn’t a real fight.” In the arena, anything went, but there lay the problem. For years the careers from two had strayed from their lessons and paid for it with their blood. The academy sought to change that. “Sparring is—“ she sucked at the inside of her cheek.

“It’s elegant. Its—it’s a dance with steps we all learn to take. Nobody’s supposed to get hurt, but some students do get overeager.” In a real fight, she’d—well she’d never been in a real fight, but if she ever did, she knew she’d keep her form, her balance and execute the moves properly. She rubbed one of her temples thoughtfully. “I just don’t—there are rules.” She followed the handbook religiously. Almost as much as she followed the Goddess.

“Maybe we can pick this up again tomorrow? There’s some basics you need to brush up on.” She didn’t mean it as an insult, it was just a fact. Maybe Edelguard had been busy of late.

elegant

[cass]

p e t r a .

But can I change lives?
If I am nothing, if I am trying, I think I can
I step on broken glass, and dream of soft clouds

This was awkward, evident in the way that Mercedes mirrored her confusion, hand rubbing the back of her own neck. Petra bit her lip, chewing on the skin as she looked at the other girl with apprehension. Had she messed up here? Was this going to find its way back to Edelgard? What would the other girl say or do if she heard? She wasn’t entirely sure of the depth of the mistakes she had made.

She hoped it was nothing too serious, something Mercedes would keep to herself and simply just berate Petra here and now for it. She listened intently as the other girl spoke, absorbing everything she said, and trying to piece together the issues with her actions. It seemed that fighting in the academy was for entertainment. A dance designed to impress and show off your skill. There was no threat to life, no desperation to survive.

It felt wrong. There were no rules in the world she came from. As a wanderer and a traitor to the Capitol, getting into a fight was a matter of life and death. To believe that there were honour and glory in the strike of your blade was to send yourself into a grave. She had seen Peacekeeper’s shoot children as they fled into the forest, she had seen men and women scream, and plead for their lives only to receive a bullet to the head.

Beauty? It was bloody and grotesque. She felt sick. Petra nodded, moving to the racks and returning her axe to the place that she had found it. Part of her was relieved at the conclusion of the session. She needed time to think and take in all of this new information. Her mind was clouded with her nightmares, and it was threatening to spill into her composure and she turned once more to face Mercedes.

Giving the other girl a weak smile, she said, “yes, I think that is a good idea. I believe Edelgard will have some books I can read before tomorrow.” She made her way to the exit, tucking her trembling hands into her pockets as the flutter of her heart against her ribs increased.

“I’ll meet you here tomorrow morning before breakfast, 6am.”

The reality of this world hit her a little harder the more she learned about it. She ached on the inside, yearning to find her family and be free.

elegant

[ end of thread ]