[Day 4] Epee Semi-Finals: Speare vs. Delgado

Learning to be consistent in his performance was one thing Hamlet would take away from this. The fight with the Moreno was one whirlwind of scores, Hamlet was either going forwards in full force with his hits or was just plucking at his component. If he had done one thing for the audience who had their eyes set on the fight, he definitely left them hanging at the edge of their seats in anticipation. Maybe a way to encourage his uncle to not be a complete beast towards him was to possibly bring fame to the family name. No doubt a finely skilled fencer from One, whose name ends in Speare could bring some sort of recognition, why must every family have fame through the Hunger Games, why not the Olympic Games?

Once Hamlet and his component shared bows, he was quick on serving the first hit, clocking up a semi-decent score. Following him exactly, the girl equalled the fight and a strange smile crept across his face. Maybe he is up against someone just as good as him, every fight he had been in thus far had been a drawl, he was really yearning for some entertainment....

Everything was creeping up on him again, just as he did in his last fight, his performance slowly deteriorates. What was the matter with him? Had he gotten stuck in his big headed persona and thought he could walk away in victory with his fight so easily? Hamlet seemed to be reenacting just about every aspect of that last fight. He can't be here to entertain anymore, he is here to serve a true purpose and that is to win, not just a medal but his Uncle's full acceptance of his existence.

As predicted, the girl served a hard hit and it made something tick inside of Hamlet. He hasn't totally lost the fight just yet, he has every chance to pick up the ropes again. If he is surely reenacting his last fight, he was able to be victorious in it and that easily means he can perform just as good as he did then.

Lunging forwards, Hamlet would go in for another strike.

A power engulfed Hamlet and it did its job splendidly, just as before in the last fight, one conflict in his mind helped him pick up his game and he scored well. Glancing at the scoreboard, he didn't exactly score the highest possibility but after the girl's strike, it made them tie....better than trailing behind like before.

All he had to do now, was make sure that he pushed himself far enough forwards that the girl would be unable to catch up. Just two more decent hits, two more decent hits and he'll be in that gold medal match.

Fighting the urge to pull off his mask and wipe the sweat that is slowly infesting his brow, he lunges forwards, a brute force in his strike.

Just as his hopes had wandered high above, they were quickly brought down just as fast as they rose after the girl hit him. Again, they were tied and again Hamlet was in another fight that likely had the audience on edge. Moving his eyes to the crowd, each and everyone one of their lips were sealed. Clenching their fists, they wait in agony, praying on whoever they hope to win comes on top. Hamlet does wonder how many strangers actually cheer him on. He knows there are many bets and illegal bookmakers floating about the olympic park, how many people actually give away their own money, hoping that Hamlet would win?

Gritting his teeth, the infestation of sweat finally attacks his eyes. He'll have to ignore it now for just one good blow will help him sail into the finale. Just one good blow...