Do you kill training dummies, like me? 💋 [open]

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pogue
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Is she trying to interrupt our henna session?

Do you kill training dummies, like me? 💋 [open] Feb 3, 2024 11:55:48 GMT -5

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Post by pogue on Feb 3, 2024 11:55:48 GMT -5

He's stuck on the losing end of a staring contest with training dummy eight out of twenty seven, blue eyes focused in on synthetic irises for any sense of digital life coursing through 'em. There's a knife clenched in his right hand that traces the blade against the side of the dummy's head, other hand palming the skull as if it were going anywhere.

"Already told ya, these are just dummies-"

"Yep, not goin' anywhere, not moving, not attacking. Got it." The tip of the blade points out towards the Trainer that'd been shadowing him in the quest for the past twenty minutes, Sapphiro, a name tag written in gold and pressed into the chest of his uniform. He'd seen what the fuckers could do back in the 95th Games, has kept one eye on the dummies since he'd stepped foot into the newly built Training Center. A daily ritual, knife in the throat of a synthetic beast and a spat back and forth between a trainer only one step above the same thing. They'd be on a first-name basis by the time he steps foot into the arena, for better or worse, most likely the latter if his track record said anything about him.

Axyl pulls the knife back away from the trainer before any accusations of threats could be written any heavier in between the lines, takes the blade and carves a smile into the synthetic flesh of the throat. A waterfall of red pours out, cloaking the dummy's chest in crimson and dripping down to the floor below. There's a sigh behind him, an Avox sitting in the shadows, waiting with another set of cleaning supplies as he takes the knife and plants it vertically into the top of the damn things head pulling it out with all the experience of a boy from Six (not a lot).

It's honest work, if time-consuming. Axyl admires his work like a starving artist, letting his eyes follow the veins of scarlet that have no begun to curl across the arms of the dummy as it continues to bleed. Like looking in a mirror, waiting for what's to come. There's a split second decision as he passes the nearest weapons rack, eyes something beefier and cocks his head. A whistle towards the Trainer behind him, "Here boy-" He tosses the knife towards the man without a second of hesitation, blade-first, then fights back a frown as the man catches it just in time.

Time for the big guns, fingers wrapped around the handle of an axe and letting the weight dance between his hands, adjusting his grip before making his way back towards the cluster of dummies, whistling while he does so.

sucy ( ˘ ³˘) 💕
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Do you kill training dummies, like me? 💋 [open] Feb 5, 2024 20:17:15 GMT -5

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Post by sucy ( ˘ ³˘) 💕 on Feb 5, 2024 20:17:15 GMT -5

marceline jeon .

"thought i was the only one,
turned out i was everyone"

Marceline can't help watching. Some of these kids... they're not even Careers, but they've thrown themselves into training with everything they've got. They want to shed their novice's skin and meet them -- the Careers, the bloodthirsty Capitol viewers -- where they're at. Is it to prove something to them? Marceline doesn't think any win they get here is one that matters; not even if they win their way to a Victors' Village villa. They all already lost. But if everybody's working hard, then Marceline will too. In this situation, if she slacks, she'll stand out for the worse. She finishes wrapping her feet up in her ankle support braces, sneaking glances in the direction of the Blades station. Looking at his interactions with the Trainer, Marceline doesn't doubt that Axyl would throw aside his dummies to get a crack at something real if the Gamemakers gave them the chance. Something with blood that runs hot

Or wait, maybe he thinks they'll try the same shtick two years in a row, and they'll all be dodging dummies again this year, distracting them from each other for a while. As if the Gamemakers would be so kind.

Marceline slides on her sneakers and goes over to the rack of sharp objects, just after Axyl leaves. She picks out a short, skinny dagger; the same one that she's been training with since the first day. Everyday she's been cleaning it dutifully herself, replacing it on the shelf at the end of every session, even when she's just taking a break to wrap up her joints. Strengthening them just isn't something she'll be able to do in time for the Games, but she can do her best to at least make them last until then.

She has to follow Axyl over to the training dummies, no way of avoiding that. His whistling reminds her of a girl who'd worked the machine next to her at the factory for a spell. She was older. Marceline didn't like her much.

"I'm," she's Marceline, but regular greeting protocol feels out of place here. "I'm going to practice on one of these, if you can spare one." She can't help being a little sarcastic.

ELEGANT

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🌱 kaitlin.
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aspiring beam of light

Do you kill training dummies, like me? 💋 [open] Feb 15, 2024 22:36:25 GMT -5

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Post by 🌱 kaitlin. on Feb 15, 2024 22:36:25 GMT -5

felicity carrow
🛠️ district three.

I don't linger on the thought long before slinking over to the station I'd seen Axyl heading towards.

Most of me still isn't really sure what I make of him, but curiosity stirs in the pit of my belly, cats be damned. As far as I can tell, neither Izzy nor Axyl seem to have recognized me. They both seem like the kind of people that would definitely say some shit, flavored with varying creative types of bullying or kindness, depending on how much they know. Then again, I certainly don't recognize them, and I've spent about as much time with either of them as I did my year seven homeroom teacher, which is to say no time at all.

I'm learning a lot from my place in the shadows. I've never been particularly good at existing outside the sphere of other people's expectations. The first day I kept walking into the corners of tables trying to sneak around; my hips and thighs are a watercolor painting of purples and yellows and greens, swirling bruises from repeatedly forgetting where my own body was while trying pay attention to what others were doing, where others were looking, instead of trying to get them to look towards me.

A few days in, it's getting easier. I don't think Axyl even knows I'm lingering on a bench just behind his peripheral when that Trainer tries to talk to him and he has the audacity to stick his knife in their direction. Eyes narrowing, I smile around the top of a candy cherry rope when he whistles and have to stifle a laugh lest he care I'm here watching.

I bite the inside of my cheek when he wraps a palm around the handle of an axe, finding the balance. Sweat makes his shirt cling to his back and I can see the lines of his shoulders beneath; it's only the sound of metal rattling against metal that forces me to drag my eyes away and look towards where a girl with long, dark hair chooses a weapon to practice with herself.

Against my better judgement, as usual — "You guys should make it a competition." I take another bite of my candy vine, holding the bag up with another hand. "I'll share with the winner?"