afterthought; tom. blitz
Oct 13, 2020 0:13:25 GMT -5
Post by charade on Oct 13, 2020 0:13:25 GMT -5
A M E L I A
There was something to be said for how in depth the training center was. Truly, they took great pains to teach the tributes survival and combat skills of every flavor. From the charisma trainer teaching people how to work the cameras to the smuggling trainers showing tributes how to create extra pockets within their uniforms, there was something for everyone.
There was even a koi pond with which to practice fishing. Apparently it fell under the umbrella of animal trapping, and as Amelia didn’t care to make snares in the fake rabbit warren, the pond was where she found herself passing time. It was relaxing in a way she’d never experienced before.
Just her, the pole with a lure on the end, the quiet burble of the filters pumping water into the small, five-foot-deep, three foot across swimming pool like structure that was set into the floor, and the loudness of everyone training at the other stations all around her.
So yeah, it wasn’t all that quiet. But she could still let her mind wander.
Or she would have, if tributes didn’t insist on making nuisances of themselves. Like the blond that was watching her like she wanted to say something. The name escaped her, but she knew it was one of the volunteers. And a career to boot. Glory hounds concerned Amelia. Back home in nine, the gangbangers that had a chip on their shoulder, something to prove? They tended to be the most volatile. She’d often tried to steer Audrey away from them, lest a fight break out.
Her focus stayed on the fishing pole and its lack of movement for a minute or two, before she finally turned to address the eyes that were on her. The career wanted something, of that much she was sure.
People usually did.
“What’s good blondie, you been standing there for a hot minute. What you want?”
There was even a koi pond with which to practice fishing. Apparently it fell under the umbrella of animal trapping, and as Amelia didn’t care to make snares in the fake rabbit warren, the pond was where she found herself passing time. It was relaxing in a way she’d never experienced before.
Just her, the pole with a lure on the end, the quiet burble of the filters pumping water into the small, five-foot-deep, three foot across swimming pool like structure that was set into the floor, and the loudness of everyone training at the other stations all around her.
So yeah, it wasn’t all that quiet. But she could still let her mind wander.
Or she would have, if tributes didn’t insist on making nuisances of themselves. Like the blond that was watching her like she wanted to say something. The name escaped her, but she knew it was one of the volunteers. And a career to boot. Glory hounds concerned Amelia. Back home in nine, the gangbangers that had a chip on their shoulder, something to prove? They tended to be the most volatile. She’d often tried to steer Audrey away from them, lest a fight break out.
Her focus stayed on the fishing pole and its lack of movement for a minute or two, before she finally turned to address the eyes that were on her. The career wanted something, of that much she was sure.
People usually did.
“What’s good blondie, you been standing there for a hot minute. What you want?”
H A L E
