show-off . shown-up | cedric & ty

Tyrone told himself this morning that he'd be productive in the Training Center for once. He spent most days moping about, trying out the different weapons only to be mediocre with them at best. And with plants and fire making, well, it was a lot to remember and master in such a short amount of time. It all made him nervous, especially with twenty-three other tributes around to size him up and deem if he's worthy enough to spare for another day. If his aim is to survive, that's his best strategy: be the weak link and surprise everyone at the end.

The trainer hands him a set of throwing knives and directs him to the target practice. He isn't strong enough to wield an axe or a sword with impact; the ranged root was the only way for him to go if he wanted success. Distance would be able to promise him a moment of safety if he needed it. He's fast enough to get away if he needs to. Tyrone throws one of the knives and it pierces the target's leg. Words of encouragement from the trainer bring him a moment of pride, but the worry sets in soon after. He's fast enough if he's unscathed. What if someone breaks his leg, or stabs his foot. What if he's running and sprains his ankle? The scenarios leak from his head and send the rest of his body into uncertainty. He loses his solid footing and his wrist doesn't flick like the trainer showed him.

Miss. Miss. Skimmed the target's cheek. Miss.

He throws his last knife off-target to the wall, sending all ten of his fingers through his hair in frustration. There's another person waiting in line. He just made a fool of himself to him, surely.

Tyrone backs up and out of the practice area, picking up the knives as he returns. He looks at the boy, who is marked by a 12, and then back at the trainer. "He can go if he wants. I g-" he pauses in his words. He wants to give up, but Ty can't say it aloud. "I need to take a break. I can watch him go a few times."