want no more than this / [krueger & larissa]

want no more than this / [krueger & larissa] Jun 13, 2023 19:27:18 GMT -5

Post by pogue on Jun 13, 2023 19:27:18 GMT -5

There's a dummy that smiles confidently back at him across the way and a half-empty rack of throwing axes, a metal graveyard piling up behind the figure as he stands across from it. He'd decided the approach he was going to take as soon as the training center had opened for them days ago, fluorescent lighting setting the stage for one final performance. Since then he'd been watching his fellow tributes, monitoring them from the shadows, a pair of eyes that no one was looking for, a volunteer from a District that had a religious zealot as their money-maker.

It's easy to look mediocre when no one's cared who you were in the first place.

Luckily, the reputation of his last name doesn't precede him. At least, not like Larissa LeRoux's. It's why he's able to wander the training center without the push and pull of the attention on him for now, and it's why he's been able to observe and notice the way the Careers carry themselves and their burdens. She'd caught his attention hours after they all filed in here, a voice of kindness and trust and generosity for her fellow tributes.

He hasn't believe it for a second. Her persona is more bullshit than her family's Games reputation.

He laces his fingers around the throwing axe handle as if it is foreign to him, ice against his fingertips. It's a betrayal, as if he hasn't done this for years on end, as if it is not sewn into his veins with dirtied needle and fraying wire.

The metal screams as he tosses it into the wall behind the training dummy, intentionally clumsy and misleading. Muscle memory tenses underneath his skin, the instinctual knowing that the way he flicked his wrist and released his grasp was wrong, that the blade of his weapon could have should have and would have carved a smile into the neck of the dummy if he'd wanted it to.

But he knows that already, it's why he feigns frustration and forces a scoff from between his lips, lets it linger in the cold air of the training center as he feels a LeRoux enter his peripheral.

"Hey-" He spins on a heel made to look unsure, sizes up the Career as if he's innocent, and holds the axe in his hands too tight with a finger far too close to the blade for any sane person's comfort. "Listen, I've seen 'ya helpin' others around her. How's one more?" He counts the scuffs on the metal floor below like it's nerves that rattle up in his stomach, before striking a silver tongue. The last part is sharp, a jab, innocent but tinged with venom.

"Or is a Ten below your pay grade?"

want no more than this / [krueger & larissa] Jun 15, 2023 19:52:29 GMT -5

Post by dars on Jun 15, 2023 19:52:29 GMT -5

_LARISSA

_LEROUX

Larissa knew what trouble looked like. People would've been quick to think of someone like Perry or Xaamina and sure, they both had their own qualities worth mentioning which could contribute to that argument. But they weren't trouble for someone like Larissa, who had dealt with people virtually just like them for all of her life. She knew that when Perry started mocking the person from Eleven, she was supposed to cross her arms over her own chest, lean back, smile maliciously like she agreed with everything Perry was saying. She knew that when Xaamina made a point of putting her heels on the table and making eye contact with her that it was a display of dominance, a pissing contest Larissa wasn't interested in participating in, so she kept her distance and decided she would let the scores decide which of them was the more impressive career, rather than worrying about it like her escort seemed to be doing.

This boy smelled like trouble. Volunteer from a lower district, a mean stare, and enough confidence that he hid any insecurity he may have felt, even when he didn't realize people were watching. And be assured, Larissa was always watching. Though she was acutely aware that he had his reasons- Larissa herself had volunteered- she doubted they were worth it. It sounded selfish to say, but even if it was for the sake of some dying older relative or to escape some crazy man demanding payments, or even to try and get a bit more grain on plates for some family in some farmhouse no one else would spend money to live in, Larissa knew her own reasons mattered more. Because they weren't just her interests- they were the interests of everyone who'd had enough.

Her reasons for wanting this ran deeper than money, or glory, or fame. Power. She wanted power. And it was assured if she won here- Aunty Eury herself promised to hand it all over to her if she came back with a pulse. And she knew it was what was right. She knew it.

She could smell the smoke of it burning to the ground.

But there the boy stood anyway, daring to exist, daring to have his reasons. And to make matters worse, he spoke to her, asking for help but in the sort of way that made her question whether he was being genuine or not. Was he trying to..? What, throw her off her game? Intimidate her? Or maybe the guy was just genuinely not very good at throwing axes- why did all of them think that was the type of thing they could just do. Like, what kind of luck would it be if someone could just suddenly be an expert marksman without dedicating any time or effort into the actual study of it. But that was the strange thing here. His form, his strength, his follow-through... He was even missing in the same precise area, strayed far from the bullseye of the target.

Like she said: trouble.

"You could try aiming for the red dot this time."

Oh. Shit. Wait- was he maybe flirting? People her age liked to flirt normally. The thought didn't pass through her mind at all until she'd all but completely blown him off, but even still, what would that have accomplished in a place like this? Love was the last thing she needed to experience for the first time in the actual Hunger Games while the entire country was watching. She made it a point to never look directly in his direction. You know: let 'em down easy.