cause as much sorrow / andromache & tsiuri
Sept 30, 2024 16:20:02 GMT -5
Post by andromache s. ⚔️ [d1b] sucy on Sept 30, 2024 16:20:02 GMT -5
a n d r o m a c h e s t e w a r t
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Hours tick by, and slowly sweat accumulates on my forehead, and on the back of my neck, below the low bun I've wound my hair up into. My muscles will twinge here and there tomorrow morning as I stretch in my brand new temporary bed, and for a moment, everything will be normal. For a moment now, after hours spent cutting the air around me until it was familiar, everything is normal. Somebody grunts out of my field of vision, and the sound yanks me by the ankle back to reality. I blow a stray strand of hair out of my face and step back from the decimated dummy hanging off his plastic bones to reacquaint myself with the training centre. Everybody's working hard. It's almost like free training time in the academy back home.
Almost. The others here aren't smooth enough. They don't wield their weapons with any sort of finesse. It looks like most of them are still figuring out just how to hold them. Seeing that lights a candle of hope in my chest. These few days are all they have. Unless they all turn out to be idiot savants, there's no way a lifetime of training can lose to this.
Suddenly, I remember the conversation I had with Carmen last year, back when all of this was a hypothetical to me. No matter how safe I feel next to these untrained clowns, there's a select few who are a whole other story. My so called allies. In that respect, I comfort myself with the fact that they won't shoot themselves in the foot by taking me out while I'm still useful. And I will be useful. I will.
Back to the others. My gaze settles on Eleven's curly hair as she toils away by herself. Serves her right. She'll wind up being a loner for the whole Games if she can't take a joke. I let down my hair, check my face in my compact mirror, and saunter over, smile on my face. When I'm right behind her I loudly clear my throat.
"Hey Eleven, you getting anywhere by yourself?" I laugh, but it rings hollow even to my own ears without anybody to echo it, so I follow it with a scoff. "My offer's still open. I'm always happy to help the less fortunate."
Almost. The others here aren't smooth enough. They don't wield their weapons with any sort of finesse. It looks like most of them are still figuring out just how to hold them. Seeing that lights a candle of hope in my chest. These few days are all they have. Unless they all turn out to be idiot savants, there's no way a lifetime of training can lose to this.
Suddenly, I remember the conversation I had with Carmen last year, back when all of this was a hypothetical to me. No matter how safe I feel next to these untrained clowns, there's a select few who are a whole other story. My so called allies. In that respect, I comfort myself with the fact that they won't shoot themselves in the foot by taking me out while I'm still useful. And I will be useful. I will.
Back to the others. My gaze settles on Eleven's curly hair as she toils away by herself. Serves her right. She'll wind up being a loner for the whole Games if she can't take a joke. I let down my hair, check my face in my compact mirror, and saunter over, smile on my face. When I'm right behind her I loudly clear my throat.
"Hey Eleven, you getting anywhere by yourself?" I laugh, but it rings hollow even to my own ears without anybody to echo it, so I follow it with a scoff. "My offer's still open. I'm always happy to help the less fortunate."
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