Coal don't turn to diamonds [Rory/Wendell]

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They'll either want to kill you, kiss you, or be you.

Coal don't turn to diamonds [Rory/Wendell] Jun 28, 2017 17:34:41 GMT -5

Post by * on Jun 28, 2017 17:34:41 GMT -5

"Pick it up, would you?"

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Glinting metal struck another sword with ease. The sound of the clinking weapons echoed into his ears, pulling his heart to work harder against his sturnum. Teeth bared like a vicious creature and saliva collected and escaped with each grunt against the trainer challenging him. Wendell punctured the space between the trainers arm and torse, narrowly missing his shirt and with a pronounced grin, the short session was over.

"Go cool down, hothead." The trainer more or less congratulated him without the consenting applause. Somehow, Wendell thought that the years of shoveling coal and using the pickaxe to breakup the rock would have come in handy. Weilding the sword was no easy task but it was easier with the strength he'd managed in just a few short years.

"I wasn't done... baffoon." He growled as the sword dropped from the air and he took his leave from the mat. Behind him, another tribute stepped up to the plate. A huffed sigh brought on a rather gruff motive. "You are just going to die. I wouldn't worry about training..."

Marked in his path stood a lone boy, skinny with a weak spirit by the look of his face. His nose flared and then he directed himself to the boys direction. "Gathering intel or just scared you'll break a nail, Frail?"

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Coal don't turn to diamonds [Rory/Wendell] Jul 3, 2017 6:45:06 GMT -5

Post by ☢️ on Jul 3, 2017 6:45:06 GMT -5

Observing the other tributes for their weaknesses, the excuse drawn together by the escort and whoever else did the broadcasts for the games. The escort complained that I do nothing and that I am not showing off my talents. If they have an idea of what my talents are, I’d really like to know. It is more like entertainment than information gathering, it is entertaining how hard people push themselves to ultimately fail. There is more disappointment in this room than anything else; it is stronger than the poignant aroma of sweat. Disappointment lingers all around, from the Capitol to the invisible faces that are viewing all of this on television screens.

One entertaining figure is the District Twelve boy, my back leans against the outer wall as my vision is fixated on his forced against the trainer he is working with. He and Rodney would get along; they both act like complete asses. If there is one thing that I have learned from this free viewing of comedy, is that I should really stay away from that one.

The male marches towards me once his session is over and drowns me with failed insults; my younger cousins have delivered much better to me back home. ”Are ya trying to intimidate me? Because I have seen a ten year old do better.” I cross my arms and a sigh trails behind my words as they fall from my lips.

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They'll either want to kill you, kiss you, or be you.

Coal don't turn to diamonds [Rory/Wendell] Jul 5, 2017 17:28:22 GMT -5

Post by * on Jul 5, 2017 17:28:22 GMT -5

"...Best watch your mouth or you'll find a sewing needle closing it shut for you. Here!"

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Wendell took to the boy immediately, it would seem. He grinned, crossing his arms in front of his body and coming to a halt beside him. He stood with his feet apart to keep his balance. A cocky bit of laughter escaped him. "Are ya trying to intimiadate me? Because I have seen a ten year old do better."

So Wendell shook his head. "Nope. Was honestly just trying to figure out why you're standing over all by your lonesome as if you've got no friends in the world." He shrugged his shoulders and toyed with the sword in his hand. "See that one going up there to train. Looks like he's got weak arms. He won't be able to keep that sword up long enough to protect his neck. I can only imagine in the games, he'll be gruesomely beheaded trying to protect himself or an ally if he gets one."

Imagery sometimes seemed to help soothe the mood when meeting new people and this guy was not any different from anyone else. "I can see it now. Chester, you know that district seven, I bet he could rip his scrawny neck in two. Sit on him and make him squeal. I've already messed with Chester. Big guy, strong - I think he mentioned that he got into a fight with an old friend. Dislocated his arm. Popped it right out of the socket in a disagreement. But that one over there, Teddy, I think. Don't let that exterior fool you. I heard he likes to poison people. He seems harmless, but he isn't. Watch out for him. Backstabbers are known to come out when the going gets tough."

"You any good with hand to hand combat?"

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Coal don't turn to diamonds [Rory/Wendell] Jul 6, 2017 6:37:03 GMT -5

Post by ☢️ on Jul 6, 2017 6:37:03 GMT -5

Crossed arms are a defence mechanism in this situation so I slip my hands into my pockets, an easy location to unleash them if necessary. The District Twelve chuckles at my words and commences with ramblings of his own. He went from tough guy to awkward in naught point two seconds, deserves an award for that effort. A description of a few tributes, remarkably the ones I have been eying for an alliance, can the guy read my mind?

Rather than imagining the scenes that the guy describes, all I can imagine is Rodney. He who stands before me, it is Rodney. His rambles of denial as I accused him of being a murderer, his lies used to taunt me but in the end, it became so comical as he put up an act. So comical that my parents actually believed the show he was putting on. I could lie about brushing my teeth and eating vegetables but they always found out the truth. My brother lies about manipulating his twin and yet, they were always so blind. I hope my act pushes them back to reality, Rodney created a world of lies and my family was sucked into it, I am so glad I never got to the entrance.

"You any good with hand to hand combat?"

A final question, hanging in the silence of a bizarre u-turn from the Twelve; insults and torments and now he wants to fight.

”Maybe.” One time I have it another and my palm still burns.

”Who do ya think ya are?” The volume turns up as my words slip from my tongue, ”Insulting me and the others and now ya want to fight? Sorry but I know bullies like ya and I am not giving ya the chance.”