Decathlon: Javelin Throw

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ten percent luck, twenty percent skill
fifteen percent concentrated power of will
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Long jump had gone well, aside from the fact that Tope had looked so stupid doing it that she caught someone - didn't know who, because it had been under their breath and they'd walked away right after - mutter "flying ginger squirrel" following her jump. The victor had unrolled her middle finger in retaliation, hoping whoever it was would catch it, and went over to sit on the grass and stretch before her next event, the javelin throw. Now this she could hopefully excel at; she'd practiced throwing spears over and over again as a Career-in-training until she mastered it, and had proved her competency in her Games with the trident she'd taken from Hermione Easteallas's dead body. A javelin was a true weapon, a true skill... although that meant all the Career teens here would be just as good with it as she was. If not better, because she hadn't trained at all in the past five years, whereas they'd done nothing but. Should've taken a few trips to the gym, princess.

The javelin felt right in her hands as she picked it up, and she concentrated hard on the distance she wanted it to reach before preparing to throw. Just like the Games. Just like your trident. Maybe that wasn't the best mantra to repeat in her head over and over, considering in the Games she'd been aiming at people, but it was all she could think to do. Tuning out everything else, Topaz Ross threw.

[dice=980+6500]
[dice=980+6500]
[dice=980+6500]

Mediocre. That's all it was. It wasn't enough to beat the guy who'd gone before her, and who knew how the ones that went after would do? She was supposed to be good at this! She was a victor! Topaz stalked back over to her grassy spot and sat down in a huff, wishing she'd actually managed to throw a spear like she used to.

Scarlette Bryze .

Look at you, look at me.
There's never any us, can't you see
All we can become, we can shine like the sun.

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Main, Speaking, Emphasis

Javelins. They were just like spears. They had the same slender form as spears, and they were even thrown, so Scarlette saw herself in training, being instructed by Julian. She saw herself where she was most comfortable. Where she Knew she was good. Here, this was nothing. This was a waste of her time, she decided, because it obviously didn't take true talent, or she would've been shining brighter than anybody else around. There was no denying that. She'd out-shined even Julian, the winner of the Hunger Games, the boy that was supposed to teaching her, when it came to the number events she'd qualified for.

Her luck hadn't been good at all that day, but she didn't need luck. She made her own. She needed nobody other than herself, and she knew that. She knew that anybody else was only going to slow her down, and time wasn't something she had enough of to waste. With a clenched jaw, she marched bravely on to the field after her turn was announced. Why had she been so disappointing? Why couldn't she just be as good as she was in training? Whatever, it didn't matter. This meant nothing, but competition was something she'd grown accustomed to doing, and winning was the only answer. She hefted the sleek weapon she could've killed anybody around with on to her shoulder, walked to her mark, and ran the slow distance required before shooting the javelin out of her hand like a bullet.

[dice=980+6500]
[dice=980+6500]
[dice=980+6500]

What?! So her body had finally decided to work with her mind? It was choosing now to do what she was telling it to do? All three of her throws sailed further than they'd ever been, even in training. As her gaze found the score board, and she saw the number flashing under her name. 74.72. In other words, she'd just taken first place. Well, it was about damn time.