on the horizon [charade]

Matt
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on the horizon [charade] Sept 11, 2012 22:33:40 GMT -5

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Post by Matt on Sept 11, 2012 22:33:40 GMT -5

I was genuinely terrified of what was to come. The train ride to the Capitol was awkward, to say the least. Nobody dared to utter a word, despite me being a natural social butterfly. My articulate skills just wouldn't shine through at this point. I was still in shock, I later decided, and my world was a spinning mess of tears and confusion and worry. I knew from the moment my name was called I didn't stand much of a chance at winning. All through my years, being Reaped seemed impossible. I was a good person, honestly, a straight A student and the president of the district's community service club. I dedicated myself to helping others, and not once did I think that maybe I would have to look out for myself to survive. I didn't think I would be that girl. I only had one year left. One year until I was safe, one last Reaping before I knew that my life would never be in the hands of the Capitol. But it all quickly turned upside down, and there I was, all alone on the train, awaiting my arrival at the lavish Capitol.

My heart was beating out of my chest that day. It was the first day of training, and I knew nobody. Not my district partner. I'd heard of the unfortunate Wolfe siblings, though I hadn't heard much about them aside from the fact that the youngest, a boy, was confined to a wheelchair. I felt pity for the poor boy (Bran, is it?), who was lucky to have a sister to protect him. But was that enough? I made a note to myself to introduce myself at some point, but first, the tributes of the 62nd Hunger Games were gathered to the center for a brief lecture. I paid full attention to the woman, taking mental notes in my head. Basically, we learned that we could get a taste of different stations throughout our training time, or master three distinct skills. Obviously, the latter was a much better tactical approach. I wasn't the strongest, or the fastest, and I had never even held a weapon in my life, but I knew how to talk to people, and not to be too arrogant, but I considered myself to be intelligent. Hopefully those skills would be the best.

I was drawn to the first aid station, knowing that while I hardly stood a chance in doing real damage to any of my combatants, it would be a good skill to learn how to patch myself up. I took a seat, smiling up at the instructor. "Hello, sir. My name is Ellea Banks, the female tribute from District 5. What will we be learning to do today?" I extended my hand, and instead of shaking it, the instructor took out a knife and slashed at my palm. I let out a scream of shock and pain, blood oozing out of my open wound. "There. Fix it." Everybody stared at me as I scrambled to find something, anything, to control the bleeding. "Right, yes, I need to sterilize the wound first, yes?" I was completely scatterbrained, my mind drawing a blank as I struggled to figure out how exactly to control the bleeding and sew up the wound. "Sir, please. Help me. This is supposed to be a lesson, we haven't even been taught anything yet!" I was truly petrified. I thought I would bleed out on the floor right now, and they would let me. I felt alone.

charade
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on the horizon [charade] Sept 12, 2012 22:34:47 GMT -5

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Post by charade on Sept 12, 2012 22:34:47 GMT -5

Curtis Grant

For the fastest mode of travel available in Panem, Curtis felt that the tride did little else than drag on longer than it ever needed to. Disdaining to talk with Alaska for fear of crisscrossing strategies, he instead busied himself about ignoring Jacquelyn's offers of a train tour and watching the screens for playbacks of the other eleven reapings. It was best to know ones enemies before things came to ahead. This had worked for Curt during school, when checking out potential rivals for date material. Some had even accused him of stalking them, but that was their fault. Just because he had walked by that one window repeatedly did not also mean he was planning on hiding in the bushes. Really, the imaginations some people had.

Applying everything he had used to get through the social drama of school to this might very well save his life. Allying with the careers was out of the question; history had proven that they were not to be trusted, that they were quite willing to throw their teammates to the dogs. It reminded Curt of the popular kids in school, the cliqueish ones that looked down on everyone else. Though he was fairly popular too, it was because he refused to segregate himself and force a label; rather, he made it a point to befriend as many people as possible. That tactic may not serve well in a competition where only one could win, but it could do good for him up until the point of no return. No sense in pissing a bunch of people off. Bur It wasn't until after watching the reaping from a neighboring district that a real plan started to form in his head.

The Wolfe siblings march to the stage had been undeniably memorable, with Curtis assuming there mustn't have been a dry eye in the house. Certainly folks, even the odd folks in the Capitol, would feel some measure of pity for the pair? Wouldn't even the other tributes want to avoid making an infamous name for themselves by killing a cripple? Where was the challenge for the careers? Smiling craftily to himself, he wrote their names down on a sheet of paper. The Wolfes would make great allies, as they were sure to be sponsored by all the bleeding hearts; and in turn, he would reap the rewards for helping them. Why, he could hear them now. "What a gallant young lad, to cart that unfortunate Wolfe boy about on his shoulders. Such a hero!" And then the prizes would come.

This thought kept him grinning throughout the rest of the ride, indeed even throughout the entirety of tribute orientation. Once they were free to do as they pleased, Curt glanced around at the others before heading off to the First aid station. Best not to tip his hand too soon; might as well get a feel for the rest of the competition. Making his way to the first aid station; for it currently held the least amount of people, he arrived just in time to see a leggy brunette flip out and send blood spattering all over the floor. Shaking his head in disbelief as she began to whine to the instructor, Curtis snickered none too quietly as he grabbed a roll of bandages off of the table.

"Better get used to it Legs. You're gonna see a lot more of that in a few weeks."Gently grabbing her wrist, he unwound the gauze around around the wound, tightening it where he thought it was applicable."Pressure will help to clot the blood. My siblings are always getting themselves hurt,"he said with a chuckle.""I think I know my way around a bandage or two." As he made to tie it off, he searched her wide eyes for any sign of intent. She seemed... flowery. Innocent. Heck, the way she had complained even seemed naive. Has to be a ruse. No ones that nice, especially not in our current situation. Playing it safe? For all I know, she could be one of the most deadly combatants here.

Satisfied that he had staunched the blood flow from her paper cut, (It really wasn't as big a deal as she was making) he offered her a hand to shake."Curtis. District seven. Where you from Legs?"

16 Jul 12, 23:43
GB: I bet you just sit at your computer with a tea cup and a monocle

Matt
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last seen Mar 14, 2016 0:51:07 GMT -5

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on the horizon [charade] Sept 13, 2012 23:22:17 GMT -5

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Post by Matt on Sept 13, 2012 23:22:17 GMT -5

With eyes as green as the murky pond water behind my house, I was lost in a trance that had me forgetting about my wound. He was beautiful; not as rough looking as Ashton, but maybe that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. His smile was almost enthralling, charisma seeming to radiate from his smirk. The strawberry blonde hair sat in curls atop his head, and I was speechless as he grabbed the bandages and proceeded to help fix my wound. "Better get used to it Legs. You're gonna see a lot more of that in a few weeks." His charm almost disappeared as he spoke to me using such a condescending nickname. I instinctively looked down at my legs. Oh god, he must think my calves are huge, or he noticed my limp, or maybe it's because I lock my knees. "I have a name, you know. Ellea."

His hands gently held my wrist, and I awkwardly tried to avoid making eye contact. I couldn't stop thinking that there were hidden cameras around, and that Ashton would be watching me with this mystery boy. He was helping me with my injury, and my mother always said not to look a gift horse in the mouth. So I sat there, my eyes scanning around the room, trying to put names with faces. I don't remember much from watching the Reapings on the train, though a few faces do stick out. One such face being Kiera Dempsey, the volunteer from District One. It's not unusual to see such a stern looking girl from the Career district, though there is the occasional glamor queen who lights up the arena with her perfect blonde hair and winning smile.

Curtis explained to me the process of curing a cut. I make a mental note, remembering to apply pressure in order to stop the bleeding. He chuckled as he brought up his siblings, and I couldn't help but to smile alongside him. He had a way of making the agonizing weeks before the Games not so terrible, and I appreciated him for that. As he finished patching up my injury, we made eye contact, and it seemed as though he was searching my soul. My cheeks began to feel warm as I was obviously blushing, my eyes trying desperately to break the stare down but to no avail. After what seemed like forever he finally spoke up. "Ellea, not Legs. I'm from District Five. It's really nice to meet you, Curtis. Thank you for fixing me up. I was honestly terrified." I shook his outstretched hand, a smile forming on my face. "So...you mentioned your siblings. If you don't mind me asking...what were they like? How is life in district seven? I'm sorry if I'm being too personal, but I'm curious...I don't know much of the districts other than Five."

Last Edit: Sept 13, 2012 23:22:40 GMT -5 by Matt

charade
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on the horizon [charade] Sept 17, 2012 18:28:49 GMT -5

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Post by charade on Sept 17, 2012 18:28:49 GMT -5

Curtis Grant

"I have a name, you know. Ellea."

Curtis smirked. So she was one of those girls. He'd seen her type around school before. Prim, proper and prudish. Probably a virgin, and the type that was overly obsessed with trivial niceties. Unless of course, like his first thought, this was naught but a cleverly designed act to make her seem far less threatening than she actually was. "Ellea, not Legs. She repeated, and he smirked again, she didn't seem to know how the game was played. So. The girl was from five, the power district if he remembered correctly. A victor four years ago, and none for a long time before that. She probably wouldn't have many combat skills, but at least she'd have the added edge of getting to train with an actual mentor. As she continued to talk, It slightly surprised him that she would claim to be terrified of blood loss from such a small wound. Laying on the innocent act a little thick aren't you?

Ellea then bombarded him with several questions about his family and home, to which he smiled softly."Well, what can I say? Each of them are different. My sister likes to constantly mess around with boys. The youngest doesn't know how to pick up after himself... Cecil's always got his head in a book and Colin? Colin's kind of an idiot."A sad chuckles escaped his mouth as he looked back at the station table."I miss them. I miss the trees, kind of cliche I know, but everything here seems so fake. Not like the foliage in my backyard."Examining a needle and thread on the station, he poked some of the string through the eye of the tiny metal stick and began to mess with a cloth arm that was in need of help.

"No such thing as being too personal when you're gonna be sticking sharp objects into other people a week from now."He muttered an expletive under his breath as the needle slipped and jabbed his hand, but not hard enough to draw any blood."And you? What's on your mind Legs? Worried? Homesick? I got all the time in the world right now."Stopping what he was doing, he raised an eyebrow and stared at her questioningly. I don't know what you're up to miss "innocent" but I intend to find out.