}{ ℘αrℸίςία ∫ℯѵℯrşℴη }{
Status;; Uninjured
Energy;; 100%
Weapon;; n/a
Location;; n/a
Allies;; n/a
☠ "Let's see..."
The girl from district four raised her eyebrow smartly and smirked evilly at her before turning on her heel and headed for the Trident station. So that's your secret, hm?
She grasped the light weight Trident in her left hand and hurled it at the dummy standing at least twenty feet away from her and it pierced right through its chest and made stuffing go everywhere. She grabbed another one and grasped it tightly before launching a perfect attack on three other dummies, destroying their heads and chests. As she did so, another tribute, the district one male, rolled his cobalt eyes and turned back to the rather muscular girl.
"An Odair? Am I right?" He asked, and all the while, Particia Severson watched.
She adored how strong they were, how perfect and fluid they were, but she knew right away that they weren't as smart as some other tributes. They'd trained, but they were all brute force and ruthless blows, none of the quick, resourceful cunning she did. She knew the district from which she came often didn't survive past the first day, but she would be different. She had prepared, not with knowledge of force, but with knowledge of the elements and all sorts of terrains. How to find shelter, warmth, food, water, all such things. This was how she'd survive.
Of course, force didn't hurt, and she was far from the scrawny little women who worked textiles and made dresses in her district. In fact she'd volunteered herself, fully prepared to go in and come out the victor. It'd be tough, but she knew she could do it. She had odds on her side, and all she had to do was not make a whole fuss about her abilities.
Well, maybe she'd make a little fuss.
The District 4 girl pointed across the room to the boy from District 10. "Him." She glanced at the District 1 and clenched her jaw. "Yes, I'm an Odair. Don't think I wouldn't kill you." She smirked slightly playful and nudged him arm with a seductive smile. And with that note, the girl from district four padded towards the boy from 10 and grabbed his shirt collar and pulled him closer to her.
"Slut," Particia murmured, before rolling her eyes and getting up of the floor. She tossed her perfectly straight, perfectly dark black hair and went over to the cart of weapons. Large weapons. She pursed her lips, then grabbed hold of a mace; dragging it across the floor, she made somewhat of a small fuss dragging it over, playing weak.
Then she got to the dummies.
With three hard, well-aimed blows, she never missed her mark; each dummy was pierced, torn, and ripped as she sliced easily through them, teeth clenched and bared, eyes wild with hunger and lust for blood. Then, the trainer called out, and she groaned, moving to put away the mace. She cursed under her breath, then straightened, tightening her ponytail, and made for the exit, lips pursed in thought.
The girl from district four raised her eyebrow smartly and smirked evilly at her before turning on her heel and headed for the Trident station. So that's your secret, hm?
She grasped the light weight Trident in her left hand and hurled it at the dummy standing at least twenty feet away from her and it pierced right through its chest and made stuffing go everywhere. She grabbed another one and grasped it tightly before launching a perfect attack on three other dummies, destroying their heads and chests. As she did so, another tribute, the district one male, rolled his cobalt eyes and turned back to the rather muscular girl.
"An Odair? Am I right?" He asked, and all the while, Particia Severson watched.
She adored how strong they were, how perfect and fluid they were, but she knew right away that they weren't as smart as some other tributes. They'd trained, but they were all brute force and ruthless blows, none of the quick, resourceful cunning she did. She knew the district from which she came often didn't survive past the first day, but she would be different. She had prepared, not with knowledge of force, but with knowledge of the elements and all sorts of terrains. How to find shelter, warmth, food, water, all such things. This was how she'd survive.
Of course, force didn't hurt, and she was far from the scrawny little women who worked textiles and made dresses in her district. In fact she'd volunteered herself, fully prepared to go in and come out the victor. It'd be tough, but she knew she could do it. She had odds on her side, and all she had to do was not make a whole fuss about her abilities.
Well, maybe she'd make a little fuss.
The District 4 girl pointed across the room to the boy from District 10. "Him." She glanced at the District 1 and clenched her jaw. "Yes, I'm an Odair. Don't think I wouldn't kill you." She smirked slightly playful and nudged him arm with a seductive smile. And with that note, the girl from district four padded towards the boy from 10 and grabbed his shirt collar and pulled him closer to her.
"Slut," Particia murmured, before rolling her eyes and getting up of the floor. She tossed her perfectly straight, perfectly dark black hair and went over to the cart of weapons. Large weapons. She pursed her lips, then grabbed hold of a mace; dragging it across the floor, she made somewhat of a small fuss dragging it over, playing weak.
Then she got to the dummies.
With three hard, well-aimed blows, she never missed her mark; each dummy was pierced, torn, and ripped as she sliced easily through them, teeth clenched and bared, eyes wild with hunger and lust for blood. Then, the trainer called out, and she groaned, moving to put away the mace. She cursed under her breath, then straightened, tightening her ponytail, and made for the exit, lips pursed in thought.
"I had the choice to die alone,
or fight for my district. I chose the latter,
because I know I can win. Do you know, Caesar,
how it feels to see the face of someone so helpless,
so small, staring up at you, knowing you've taken
their place in a pageant they can't win?"
