Where is the destination [Open]

[*]

Metal against metal was preached. The effects of the muscles that gripped the ax held in the trainer's hand seemed overall, a good analogy to life. You start at birth and work your way up in life. You fight to survive and live from birth as some type of weird instinct. Though, as our minds develop the older we get, the evils of the world take over and sooner or later, we become solely defined on the choices we make in life and that defines who we are.

How we hold the ax is how we react. When we decide to react is based on what we want to do in life. I've never been one to hold back in life. I knew early on what I wanted and I wish I had the audacity to learn to use my strength of body as well as I used my strength of mind. The weight of this ax in my hand is daunting, taxing almost to keep it lifted and I know my muscles will be torn the moment rest is given.

The glares and glances around me make me straighten my back. After all, a bad posture will only set up for an early retirement, I've heard.

"Alright, lets see what you have in your Carbon. Swing. Be careful and don't aim for anything but that mark I've already put there on the tree. You need to work on your aim then we'll worry about sparring." The jerk grinned in front of me just enough that I could see it in my peripheral. This guy has had to train how many kids over the years and yet he thinks of this as a joke.

"Come on, I've got twelve year old's who don't hesitate like you." He pushes me to go beyond my comfort level and I find that lifting the handle off my shoulder sends a wave of regret that in this tree trunk, I now witness an image of him instead of the bark.

I swing with might, and aim for the notch he previous created.

Thwack!

"Good job, Carbon. You might not be as useless as I originally thought. Do it again. This time, imagine something you hate is right in front of you. Put your hip into." He orders me and I jerk the blade from the wood and ready myself again, this time less hesitant. This feels as good as my first successful surgery attempt.


[Please dm me on slack if you decide to join this. Thanks]

[charade]

A M E L I A

Over the last few days, Amelia’s attention span had been wandering and her enthusiasm for study waning. She’d expected the training center to be rife with shouts and frenetic energy but it was practically dead. The air was quiet, the mood subdued. Most of the tributes forged alliances in the dark corners of the center instead of training, conversing in low tones and scattering like cockroaches when someone else drew near.

She was learning the rhythm of the training center now, and while she didn’t doubt that most of the other tributes would kill when it came time to choose between self-perseveration and a stranger, very few of them were killers at heart. Shy Aubergine maybe, but she wasn’t even sure if those counted. In any case, for the most part, they were soft. Weak. It was time to start making plays, time to intimidate those who could be, and dare those who couldn’t to try their luck.

Of course, that would require finding someone who was willing to talk to her first. At least the tributes from eleven were interesting, even if they weren’t secretly training to be careers. Pity, they had more life in them than most. As she left the first aid station, her gaze was drawn to the boy from twelve, who was staring at the axe in his hands like it was going to leap up and attack him.

Soft. He’d get eaten alive in nine.

Amelia stepped up next to him, hefting an axe handle of her own and giving the weapon a little spin before letting it bite deep into the flesh of the tree trunk. A grin stole over her face as she tilted her head sideways. “Carbon, was it?” She yanked her axe free, splinters of wood and chips of bark falling to the ground. “You wander down the wrong street at night where I’ve from, that kind of hesitation would get you killed.”

She swung the axe again, hitting the same spot she’d just damaged. The axe stuck and she left it, nodding in acknowledgment to the boy from twelve. “I’m Amelia Hale, and I hope you’re not as boring as most of the other tributes. You ready for the game to start or what?”

H A L E

kaitlin

[*]

The trainer wasn't expected to wait. He wanted action and I can only assume why since he's seen so many of this tributes be sent off to fight. I wonder how many of them that let him down or how much money he's placed bets on and lost. His whole demeanor seemed to be based off the fact that he wants action when he needs it and if he don't get it, then your not worth it.

Before I could attempt another hit on the notch that had been driven into the bark, a girl, whose aim was spot on, intercepted my attention. The blade bit into the bark deeper then my own but at least twice, if not three times further.

"Precisely. You've done your homework." Came my sly reply watching her remove the blade with hardly an ounce of trouble. Apparently, I was coming face to face with someone who was just daring to size me up for the trophy of the last name called.

"You wander down the wrong street at night where I've from, that kind of hesitation would get you killed." I stared her down, watching her swing the axe yet again in the same spot as if to prove a point for something. This time, she didn't try to pull it out and I drop the axe beside my leg, tapping it against flesh.

"You know, Amelia Hale, the likes of a lot of these other kids here can't possibly enlighten me any more then you have aim with your axe." I glance to the axe she abandoned and switch hands with my own axe. "Though, I highly doubt that even if I found myself, hypothetically, in your district wandering down some God forsaken alleyway, that they would bite the hand that feeds them. I just might the only thing keeping them alive."

I do something I didn't expect from myself and I hand over the axe to her, expecting her to take it from me. "I don't expect to live through this experience, but I will do everything I can to make sure another tribute does. That's why I'm here. What is your purpose in life, might I ask? Did you want to be here or did you have any greater plans?"

[charade]

A M E L I A

Was the room spinning? Or was it just her head. Words. A lot of words. Big words. He must have thought real highly of himself. If she understood him, he was saying that he’d be okay in an alleyway because he was too important? What? Who the hell did he think he was? The people that bothered to give beggars change were often the first to get mugged because they’d revealed they had cash to spare. Was that what he was saying? Why would gutter trash see him as the hand that fed?

It sounded like he’d already dismissed most of the other tributes as not having anything worthwhile to study, which given that he was trying to come off as intelligent, seemed very foolish indeed.

“Always something to learn.” she murmured.

How could a scarecrow like Carbon think he was valuable enough not to rob when all someone would want would be his shoes or his wallet? People bit the hand that fed them all the time if they thought it would taste good enough. Amelia shook her head. “People are self-destructive animals.” She said with a shrug, looking at the axe he was offering. “Case in point, you giving up on life before the blood’s even been spilled.” She took the weapon from him and slammed it into the wood, wondering if she could make a design out of the notches.

He’d made his peace with death, but he wanted to help someone else get home? Bullshit. No one was that altruistic. That nice. He had to have been playing mind games, that was the only logical explanation. That train of thought was confirmed when he started asking about her purpose in life. Carbon from twelve, the armchair philanthropist.

If he’d have asked a question like that a week ago, she would have laughed and made a joke about how she was planning to rise up in district nine’s underworld. About how her and her sister would make the leap from hired muscle to bodyguard to assassins. But that was a week ago. “No, I don’t want to be here," she said after a pause. "Yes, I did have a plan. I always have one.”

She worked the axe free and toyed with the idea of wielding two axes at the same time. Was that feasible? Come to think of it, she’d never seen a tribute dual wield before. It wasn’t something they taught at the combat stations.  Pity. It looked badass, even if it wasn’t safe or easy to learn.

“My sister was reaped and I volunteered to save her.” She said with a sigh. “That was about as far as my plan got. What about you?”

H A L E

kaitlin

[*]

I wasn't going to pretend to be a glorified boy though by the way she took my statements, she expected me to be some sort of glory hound looking for someone to dote on. Amelia also deduced that my will to stay alive was just me giving up. I shook my head at her. She would never fully understand my purpose in life and what it would mean for me to save just one life, even if it was hers.

"Does blood have to be spilled to understand it's value?" I throw at her. The axe was given, as if I had just given her a reason to and it's blade planted straight into the wood without hesitation. She was not afraid in the least. Her bark is definitely worse then her bite because she's able to back it up. Someone's ego is inflated.

The gears in her head must have turned on. She looks quite inquisitive but quiet about something that wasn't completely clear just yet. I wanted to know more about her. I wanted to hear her story and to learn about what made her tick. What I could do in the following days to make her journey that much more exciting or maybe even make it less painful to deal with. Taking care of the mind was more important if one could focus correctly and make the logical decisions instead of rash.

"No, I don't want to be here. Yes, I did have a plan. I always have one."

"So, what your saying is that you didn't know that this would be part of your plan?" My fingers get tangled in my messy mop and I pull through the knots a few times while Amelia fought with my axe. "That's why some people shouldn't plan."

I playfully bash her decisions in life before she mentioned that she volunteered in her sister's spot. Either her heart was gentler then she was leading on, or she had another purpose and reason for taking her place. Perhaps, the thought of killing legally would allow her some form of gratitude that life couldn't give her? A thrill, a fashionable way of getting away with murder -

"Well, I guess you are a hero, huh?" My tone turned sour. "Though, if you think about it. Everyone is a form of some saving grace for someone. Volunteered or not, that's one person you didn't allow to face death. My plan though? I was finally accepted after eight years to train to be the next town doc, a healer. Guess I won't be tending to papercuts and stomach aches anymore, huh?"

I turn to the axe still left in the bark and follow her lead and jerk the weapon free. "Planning to fight or flee, Hale?" I end up gripping the handle of the axe and move a little off to the side, ready the axe and aim it toward her head. The tree is the middleman. The axe bites into the wood, a piece of bark chipping off. I don't intend to do any harm to her and this feels like the closest I'd ever feel comfortable aiming for another living soul without feeling regret or remorse.

[charade]

A M E L I A

The rumor that everyone in twelve was constantly high off the coal fumes was starting to sound true. In one sentence he managed to make her question reality and question how much trouble she’d get in if she punched him in the face. The condescension practically dripped from his mouth. Did blood have to be spilled to understand its value? What value? It was one of the cheapest commodities on the market.

“No, what I’m saying is that no plan survives first contact with the enemy,” she would have said more, but he went off on a tangent about heroes, grace and his plans for the future. His grand purpose in life. Okay, so maybe if the people jumping him knew he was a doc, they’d rough him up after he’d fixed them up, just to keep him quiet. Provided he managed to get to the point before someone shanked him.

Especially if he led with bandaging paper cuts. Was that a joke? Or was he being serious? Had he been training to be a pediatrician? In any case, the vibe Amelia was getting off of him was one of self-important hypocrisy. He was probably just salty that no one put their neck on the chopping block for him and wanted to downplay her volunteering as something self-serving.
It was impossible for someone to think this highly of themselves and also be willing to die for a stranger.

But now she knew he was getting high off his own fumes. Tributes that were reaped weren’t choosing to save anybody, they were simply fucked. Maybe that was how he was rationalizing the bad hand he’d been dealt, but he was dead wrong. “Y’know Sherlock,” she said snidely, “For someone studying to be a doctor, your bedside manner is atrocious.” She slammed the axe into the wood with all of her might and left it there, taking a step towards him and smiling dangerously.

“I’m not a hero. I just wanted to keep my twin safe. She’d have done the same for me.” Amelia took another step forward, daring him to do something. Anything. She hadn’t missed the way he’d lined up his strike with where she was standing. If he wanted to go, he could catch her hands.

“And I plan to fight. I don’t run.”

H A L E

kaitlin