Donatello Hamato (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
polyturtle) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2013-01-05 11:30 pm
polyturtle) wrote in thecapitol2013-01-05 11:30 pm
Entry tags:
(no subject)
WHO | Don and OPEN
WHAT | Training and stuff
WHERE | Training Room
WHEN | Throughout the week! But before super duper important plot stuff.
WARNINGS/NOTES | Possible violence. It is a training room after all!
Well. As if life couldn't get more complicated, he couldn't find Sheperd. At all.
Indeed, when he finally got the time to go and talk to her about the Stylists...she was gone. Her suite was bare, as if no one had been in there. When he tried to ask the other Mentors where Sheperd was, they told him not to bother looking. And...that scared him. And when he was scared, he tinkered.
And when he ran out of things to tinker withthere was only so many modifications one could do to the holograph screens, he trained. And so that's where he was. This time, though, he was trying throwing knives for a change. They were a little like the shuriken back home, but longer. And with less control. So...he was getting the hang of them, but his aim was still...not as good as he'd wanted. A couple his the walls-
"Ah-"
His hand went to his temples. Shell the headaches. Every time he had a headache, he had memories. Memories of the last Arena. He was sure of it. But he had to get through them, not let the vague flashbacks overwhelm him. He had a mission and...and he had to focus on that. He had people to save from the Arenas.
WHAT | Training and stuff
WHERE | Training Room
WHEN | Throughout the week! But before super duper important plot stuff.
WARNINGS/NOTES | Possible violence. It is a training room after all!
Well. As if life couldn't get more complicated, he couldn't find Sheperd. At all.
Indeed, when he finally got the time to go and talk to her about the Stylists...she was gone. Her suite was bare, as if no one had been in there. When he tried to ask the other Mentors where Sheperd was, they told him not to bother looking. And...that scared him. And when he was scared, he tinkered.
And when he ran out of things to tinker with
"Ah-"
His hand went to his temples. Shell the headaches. Every time he had a headache, he had memories. Memories of the last Arena. He was sure of it. But he had to get through them, not let the vague flashbacks overwhelm him. He had a mission and...and he had to focus on that. He had people to save from the Arenas.
no subject
There's nothing you can do to stop it. You can't prevent it. And you can't protect them.
It did scare him. The possibility that they could bring people in that he cared for. Not even to be in the Games - just to torture them. Hurt them. Destroy them in ways that didn't kill them. And then suddenly, he remembered his mentor.
She's not here. You cannot talk to her.
He bit his lip, not responding to Max verbally.
He hoped Shepard was ok.
no subject
His lips are drawn tighter than usual; anyone who knows him well enough (so no one here) would be able to tell just how angry he is. "If that day comes, one of us will die, and that's what they want, isn't it?" Selfishly, he hopes if this happens, that it's him that dies. He blinks, and looks at Don because he can't think about this anymore.
"You ready to throw that knife again?"
no subject
She looks sidelong over at Don. "See you later, Buddy?"