Post by Ashton McCall on Aug 3, 2014 20:53:44 GMT -6
Ashton cracked his knuckles, walking into the training session. He hated it; all of it. He hated the tight training clothes they had him wear, the shoes he had on. He wanted to be running through District 10 with nothing on his feet and his loose clothes. But he was here now. And there literally was nothing he could do about it...well he could try and fling himself out of the windows of his hotel room but those windows were hard as rocks and he doubted he'd be able to break through that glass.
Don’t show your strength, not yet. Ashton rubbed his face; he didn’t want to show anything to do with combat: he’d reveal how terrible he was at throwing a punch and he just wasn’t prepared to deal with that shit yet he was not. That's showing too much at this point in the game: he needed to at least fake it until they got into the arena. He might be able to panic then. He saw, out of the corner of his eye, a knife throwing station…just far enough out of his skill set he’d be terrible but he was hoping he’d at least be a little better at this than throwing a punch. He walked to the knife throwing station, the expert beginning to show him how to step off with his foot and twisting his wrist just so. He gripped the handle of the blade, watching it dance across the light, looking at the human target over about 20 feet away. He tried to hold back the wince at the human target; it made it too real and he could not afford to wuss out now.
He flung the knife, feeling his wrist move a bit too much and the blade stuck to the wall, still moving from side to side from being thrown.
He looked around; no one seemed to notice his first fuckup. He planted his feet, took a deep breath and concentrated. He closed his eyes to clear his mind, imagining he was throwing the knife at some grain or something else decidedly not alive. With a deep breath, he flung the knife, watching it land on the shoulder of the target.
Ashton’s eyes widened, he’d hit it! He could slow an opponent down with that.
With newfound confidence, Ashton worked on getting better and better at this type of conflict. Just for a moment, the crippling fear and doubt he’d had since the moment his name was called seemed to vanish, and he begin to toy with the idea in his mind: maybe he had a chance. A tiny chance, but still: more of a chance than he’d had this morning.
Ashton went to the center of the training room and let out a yell, watching all of the tributes stop and stare. He put on his best shit eating grin and waved, blowing a kiss to Rosa before looking at the edible plants woman, maybe it’d help having a refresher there. You know, since he might make it.
Don’t show your strength, not yet. Ashton rubbed his face; he didn’t want to show anything to do with combat: he’d reveal how terrible he was at throwing a punch and he just wasn’t prepared to deal with that shit yet he was not. That's showing too much at this point in the game: he needed to at least fake it until they got into the arena. He might be able to panic then. He saw, out of the corner of his eye, a knife throwing station…just far enough out of his skill set he’d be terrible but he was hoping he’d at least be a little better at this than throwing a punch. He walked to the knife throwing station, the expert beginning to show him how to step off with his foot and twisting his wrist just so. He gripped the handle of the blade, watching it dance across the light, looking at the human target over about 20 feet away. He tried to hold back the wince at the human target; it made it too real and he could not afford to wuss out now.
He flung the knife, feeling his wrist move a bit too much and the blade stuck to the wall, still moving from side to side from being thrown.
He looked around; no one seemed to notice his first fuckup. He planted his feet, took a deep breath and concentrated. He closed his eyes to clear his mind, imagining he was throwing the knife at some grain or something else decidedly not alive. With a deep breath, he flung the knife, watching it land on the shoulder of the target.
Ashton’s eyes widened, he’d hit it! He could slow an opponent down with that.
With newfound confidence, Ashton worked on getting better and better at this type of conflict. Just for a moment, the crippling fear and doubt he’d had since the moment his name was called seemed to vanish, and he begin to toy with the idea in his mind: maybe he had a chance. A tiny chance, but still: more of a chance than he’d had this morning.
Ashton went to the center of the training room and let out a yell, watching all of the tributes stop and stare. He put on his best shit eating grin and waved, blowing a kiss to Rosa before looking at the edible plants woman, maybe it’d help having a refresher there. You know, since he might make it.