fangs for eyes . mauve & evan

[mat]

evan macmillan

Everything is shinier in the Capitol, but Evan is hesitant to say he likes it that way. District Twelve carries a faint blue hue at every turn, aiding the gloomy personalities that persist in the district. Here, though, in the Training Center, they confine the tributes to, everything stands much more polished. The spears and axes glimmer, giving a reflection to anyone who peers into the blade. In Twelve, the miners' pickaxes are half rusted and dirty. He supposes that the beauty of his surroundings is intentional for the tributes to experience. The interviews are coming soon, something that all the districts watch. Probably mind games. Deceive the districts with the tributes' awe and compliments about the beauty in the Capitol.

Out of all the weapons in the Training Center, the ax has climbed the ranks and become Evan's favorite. It's big and heavy but has just enough weight to it where he can both wield its power and make it deadly. Sadly, there's no pickaxes like the ones he so enjoys playing around with back in the district. Perhaps the Capitol prefers not to mix work with play.

One of the trainers permits him to practice on some of the targets. They discuss the advantage between vertical and horizontal swings and how to properly rebound the weapon so Evan does not accidentally chop his leg off. He enjoys the instruction, but above all else, he wants to begin playing around and seeing if the trainer is as impressed with him as he himself is.

After he finishes cutting each arm and each leg off of the training dummies, all he receives is a quick good job from the woman. Good job, that's all he gets? Evan believes he was at the very least excellent. The trainer tells him to grab a drink of water before he continues.

Swinging the ax at his side, he goes towards the fountain. The cool water streams down his throat, refreshing him from an exhilarating mini session. He finishes and stands to the side, looking into his reflection in the ax. Maybe he should get a haircut before they send him into the games. He takes a mental note to bring it up with his stylist later. He fixes the stray strands of hair up, tossing them to the side with the rest of them, unaware that another pair of eyes lurks in the reflection behind him.

[k!ah]

m a u v e.

* * *

Mauve Morganstern was bored. She had been lounging around on one of the benches, stretched out, her head resting against her arm as she study the tributes around her. She liked to play a little game as she watched them, a guessing game to see how long it might take, and what she might have to do, to break a fellow tribute. For example with Red, it would be quite simple. The boy was terrified of Mauve, she was sure the moment she bared her teeth he would start to sweat, begging her to spare him. Of course she wouldn't. She had a feeling that watching him squirm will be blissful.

Pushing herself into a sitting position her eyes land on the boy from twelve. He was whacking at one of the dummies with an axe, removing limbs with grunts of effort. He swung the axe well, admiring his work as a trainer gives him a nod. It appears that he didn't quite like that, his face falling with disappointment. Her lips hook up, she knew the power rush that he would have felt swinging the axe around like a god, ripping through plastic, feeling like you were untouchable. But she also knew that any damned fool could swing around a heavy weapon causing serious damage.

A thought that she was about to share with the scrawny boy.

He stands by the fountain, sipping on cool water before he studies his reflection in his axes blade. She studies him, like a wolf stalking its prey, her tongue flicking over her lips. He adjust his hair, as though moving a few stands might fix years of malnutrition. "I bet you feel pretty strong flinging around your little axe," she closes some of the distance between them, running a finger along the blades sharp edge. It bites into her skin, sharp pain shooting through her finger, drawing blood. "Its a pity that an axe is a dimwits weapon."