a puzzle wrapped in a mystery {charade; blitz}

Looking out from underneath,
Fractured moonlight on the sea
Reflections still look the same to me,
As before I went under.
And it's peaceful in the deep,

The knife she clutched was growing more familiar with each second it stayed in her hands. Again she was struck by its obvious beauty, the sharp edge and delicate features. With an appreciative nod she once more drew her eyes up to find herself looking at the odd district twelve. He was a puzzle she was determined to solve, he was brave, in a way that made him look almost foolish, but it gave him an edge that the others did not have. He looked like a guy that could hold his own. If Opal had not already sorted out an alliance with some other tributes she would have snagged him. Even though he was no career and as far as she was concerned completely unskilled he had the kind of attitude that she liked. The allies she had grabbed were hardly the same. Opal had taken a quick liking to Locust, the silent, but powerful district four something of a pleasure to be around. She detested the day that they might have to face each other, and she sourly hoped that someone would knock her off first, or if need be, knock off Opal, herself, before that happened. Cleo, on the other hand was an entirely different matter. Whenever she was faced with the condescending district three female she wanted to knock some sense into her. The girl acted as though she was the greatest and in all honesty she needed to fall off of that high horse of hers, take a look at reality.

Still, Opal knew that she would be useful. She was smart, she had skill with her tongue, more than weapons, but there was a fiery attitude there that could prove useful. Drace on the other hand, appeared to be the total opposite of the fiery female. He was down to earth and an all-round decent guy. He, again, lacked a lot of skills with a weapon, but he was handy with a knife. Good enough. Erik had noticed her staring, and this time, instead of continuing with what he was doing, he had slowly began to make his way closer to the knives station and to where Opal stood. Grinning she followed him, amused at the way he tried to act as though he was not noticing the attention she as giving him. Then he finally reached her, a smile of his own lighting up his face. "Opal right? I'm Erik. From Twelve. But you probably knew that." She nodded, her smile growing larger by the second. "So...Hi. I guess. Pretty exciting right? I mean the games, not the knife station or talking to me. Unless you find those things exciting. To each his own, my pop always says...heh."

”Pleasure to meet you Erik. Oh, I find everything interesting, I’m hardly what you could call a proper career.” She stretched out her hand, the other still firmly grasping the knife. “Do you know how to use these kinds of knives? Is there any way to learn in district twelve?” She asked a touch of curiosity dripping into her tone. ”The one you have there is a bit bigger for someone who has never used one before. Most people assume the bigger the easier to hit something with, but it just makes it harder to control.” Reaching forward she tapped the knife in his hand. Then with a flick of her wrist she grabbed the knife in her own grasp by the blade, and reaching over she offered him the hilt.

“Here. This one is better for close combat, smaller and more nimble, and if you are looking to learn how to use one you’d be better to learn with this kind of blade first.” She smiled encouragingly at him. She hoped she was not sounding rude, or in any way superior, she really actually wanted to help him. Opal was tired of the way people looked at normal careers as though they all thought they were better than everyone else. The only people Opal was trying to impress were her family. In the training centre, with these people she was equal to them and she would treat them as though they were just that: her equals.

”I can show you how to use it, if you wanted me to.” She suggests, unable to hide the eagerness from her tone. Opal Shore was not your everyday career.

Cathedral, where you cannot breathe,
No need to pray, no need to speak
Now I am under, Oh.
And it's breaking over me,
A thousand miles onto the sea bed,

Looking out from underneath,
Fractured moonlight on the sea
Reflections still look the same to me,
As before I went under.
And it's peaceful in the deep,

Opal knew that if any of her siblings could see her right know they’d be sneering at her; they’d taunt her and mock her. Some of them would probably spit at her. The thought made her shudder and for a moment that warm smile faded. They’d call her a stupid little bitch for talking to the boy from district twelve. Opal was already more than sure that half of them had basically disowned her from the family, just as her first parents had done. She wasn’t one of them – she was not a real Shore. She didn’t train twelve hours a day seven days a week; her room was not covered in awards and weapons. Her mind was not focused on the idea of killing other people, instead it flickered to flowers and plants and when the day light was perfect for seeds to be planted. She had never been made to be some ruthless, reckless killer, she had the skills and the training to be just that, but she couldn’t. It was like forcing a square through a round hole, it would go part of the way in, but then it wouldn’t. If you pushed it, it would get stuck. That was like her, stuck between two different worlds, where she was being pushed and pushed to be something she did not have the heart to be.

She had the talent, it was all right there. Just not to energy to put it all to practice.

After a few more seconds she was dragged out of such thoughts by the sound of Erik’s voice. Drawing her gaze upwards she found the young male smiling at her, it was warm and full of life, and without hesitating she returned it, shoving the sneers and scowls of her families faces away as they popped up in her mind. She was Opal, just plain old Opal and she would be herself, no one else, even if that meant tearing herself away from her family. Watching as he handed her the knife back, he then leaned forwards and picked up a hunting knife. Nodding in approval at the choice of blade, Opal was about to suggest they begin with basic techniques when Erik said, "Look , I don't want to make things awkward but why would you want to help me? I thought that careers hated the tributes from the lower districts." Frowning she looked away and down at the knife in her hand. There were a lot of reasons why. Too many, in fact. She shrugs, the right words not coming to her mind, “I don’t know…”

Why are you, Opal? Why are you being so pathetic and stupid? You’re and idiot, a disgrace to the family name. Oh, that is right; you are hardly one of us. You are going to die. And no one will care. Blinking rapidly Opal looks up. She could imagine Pyrite saying that to her, whispering the words into her ear, telling her them, over and over again, making sure she believed them. Gripping the knife tighter in her hand she set her jaw into a grim, determined line. ”Because I want to, because I am not like the rest of them. I’m me, Opal, I’m not like –“ Like who? Her family? She sure as hell was not like them at all, “—most of the careers you would meet. If I’m going to die it will be on my own terms, knowing that I have helped other people and knowing that I went down not as a bad person, but as maybe something better, like not evil. Even if my family can’t see that, even if they don’t care. I can care about what I do, and I’m choosing to do this because I want to.” After the last words left her mouth a smile followed. Oddly enough she felt better for having said that, for having chosen some sort of path to follow.

Cathedral, where you cannot breathe,
No need to pray, no need to speak
Now I am under, Oh.
And it's breaking over me,
A thousand miles onto the sea bed,