thecapitol | ➵ testing your mettle

Entry tags:

➵ testing your mettle

WHO| Hubert and you?!
WHAT| Getting in some practice. Or more like, coping with newly arriving here.
WHEN| 7/31
WHERE| The Training Center
WARNINGS| none

The words were still fresh in his mind as he stared at the weapons. A battle to the death... honored to compete... other tributes. Being brought to a new land that was presumably off the charts was decidedly new- although he had been to stranger places. He was still neck-deep in thought as he absently went for the sword, first. It was only suitable he get some training in with every weapon, after all. And since his trademark dual-blade was nowhere to be found, well... it seemed they had brought him without it.

Honestly, it was probably the part where they had taken him unconsciously that actually bothered him the most. After all- he was used to testing his strength at the stadiums in Warrior's Roost back home. Hubert always aspired to new heights, especially in combat training, so this kind of thing wasn't a shock.

Perhaps it was the wording, he mused as he tested the weapon's weight, moving away with it as he peered around the gymnasium. There were some empty targets he immediately made for, brandishing the sword firmly in his hand as he got some swings in first. Tributes. It sounded... strange, especially in this context. Sacrifices? Price to be paid?

Best believe he'd be slashing at that dummy soon enough, careful at first before he started getting more serious. Even if it wouldn't fight back, he would side-step and guard accordingly, trying to keep his instincts sharp and fresh in his mind. After all, these dummies wouldn't compare to the real targets- moving, breathing living people.

He had to make sure he'd survive. After all, the others were waiting for him back home.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The giggles have him frowning in a mixture of displeasure at how she's essentially laughing at him and his own confusion about the matter. And even with the explanation, he begs to differ, it seems.

"How bad it's going to be? It's a fight to the death. What more is there to it?" His tone is slightly impatient, demanding answers. He doesn't like being in the dark.

"Well..." Harley looked thoughtful "There's the starvation, that was always my least favorite part. The dehydration is pretty bad too. In one arena there was this music that played all day and all night so you could barely get any sleep! And in another arena all the plants and animals were poisoned so you couldn't eat em." She went on.

"Then there's the total lack of privacy. It gets really hard to pee behind a tree when you know somewhere miles away there's a guy in the Capitol recording everything with cameras. I mean obviously he's gonna edit bathroom breaks out of the broadcast but you get the idea."

Hubert listens, wrinkling his nose mildly at how vulgar that all is. Starvation... dehydration... this was rather inhumane, wasn't it?

And the lack of privacy really ruffles his feathers, and he grimaces lightly at the thought.

"That's... quite disturbing," he'll admit carefully, not about to give away just how horrid that sounded. "Although I suppose it poses more challenges than a simple killing match."

But goodness. Just what were these Hunger Games?

"Now you're getting it." Harley nodded approvingly. "There's also traps set up around some arenas, and the monsters! Oh gosh the monsters are really creative! Like these little bugs that sting you and make you hallucinate the worst stuff for hours! Those were my favorite you see, and there was this man sized duck with rows of razor sharp teeth! And sand worms that burrowed under the arena and popped up to chomp you if you made too much noise!"

She was playing her voice up to sound dramatic but the honest look in her manic eyes was somewhat difficult to deny.

Traps and monsters, huh. Hubert kept nodding, taking this information into account. Although this woman seemed more than content about this, which was still... disturbing. Thankfully, monsters were a common occurrence for him back home, so he seemed more intrigued than scared at this point, even given her tone.

"So there's always a threat. Whether it be the other competitors, monsters, or conditions of the arena itself..."

And from what he could tell, this seemed to be watched for entertainment. Well, no different from the stadium he was used to, but somehow, it felt markedly different.

"Exactamundo!" She cheered as if he had just solved a difficult puzzle. "It's all about motivation. This way even the tributes who are less comfortable killing will have to do something or else they're just as likely to die. And if you die easily the Capitol isn't as likely to bring you back." She sighed. "We've lost alot of really great people that way."

This being a rare moment of remorse on her part. It's quickly covered up.

"Now my job is to try and get supplies sent to you, but I'm only as good as what you give me to work with so make the sponsors want to see you win. Can you be charming?" She loomed over him curiously as if trying to pick apart his qualities.

He's still looking as thoughtful as ever, but that expression falls into genuine surprise when there's a mention of bringing people back.

"Bring... you back?" he echoes. He's been rather cooped into the whole training thing, not even realizing... "They bring people back here?"

He can tell she has some sort of feeling on the issue, as opposed to everything else, but he won't question that. No, he's still caught up on the thought of being brought back. Although how closely she's inspecting him has him clearing his throat and peering away for a moment before meeting her gaze again.

"And, well... it depends what the definition of charming is around here." Hubert crosses his arms. "What would you say is generally well-liked among these... sponsors?"

Harley decides to steamroll past his request to clarify, after all it's such a fun surprise for some people to die and wake up good as new. She almost felt bad spoiling it for him.

"Well the Sponsors all have their own particular tastes of course. Some like the more charming type, others prefer a scary brute. And others like em sexy and funny like me." She struck a flirty expression and blew him a kiss.

"But being open and honest is always a good idea...provided you're not honest about how you feel about being kidnapped and forced into combat." She added with a finger wag.

"Who knows? If they REALLY like you they might pay a little extra to take you on a date and spend some "personal time" with you." She made a rather lewd gesture to indicate the nature of "Personal Time"

He seems rather disgruntled by how she simply hops to the next topic without answering his question, but in his attempts to follow and gather information, he listens. This is starting to sound more like a popularity contest rather than any sort of dignified fight, and he looks more sour by the second.

Easily flustered, however, Hubert tensed when she blew him a kiss, clearing his throat and adjusting his glasses.

"This is starting to sound less and less humane..." he murmurs.

Although, that last comment? Had him sputtering, of course, face reddening in embarrassment at the mere thought of this 'personal time'. "H-How indecent! Don't they know people are not bought with money?"

Oh, Hubert.

Another grin, somehow different from all the others she had already flashed him spread across her features as she tried...and failed to stifle laughter.

"Wow! They really didn't fill you in on ANY of the fun parts. Of course it ain't humane! Of course it's indecent! This is reality TV at it's worst. This is life and death and wishing for death when life becomes too tough. Saying it's not humane may be the understatement of the year!" She cackled delighted at his naivete.

The laughter had him tensing even further, gripping the hilt of the sword tighter. How could she find any of this amusing? Perhaps because she was done with this sick game, he mused, wondering if one could be that amused by their Tribute's suffering.

"And they only do this for entertainment?" he manages finally, beginning to understand why others seemed to socialize and why people seemed to act as if they were 'in it together'.

It all made sense. No wonder the tributes would hold a bond, even if they were from different districts.

"Well now that would just be awful and selfish of them wouldn't it?" She teased him and decided to give him somewhere to work out her aggressions. Dancing over to the table where he had collected his practice sword she scooped up pair of throwing hammers and twirled them expertly in her hands before taking a defensive pose and nodding at him.

"So what other reason can you suppose a massive, overbearing government might regularly take people and force them to fight to the death on live television which is mandatory viewing for everyone in the country?" She offered the riddle temptingly and in doing so reminded herself of a friend of hers with a penchant for questions and green bowler hats.

This is starting to sound more and more sickening. Admittedly, it's a breath of fresh air when she picks up weapons, about ready to help work out his tension. Immediately he assumes a stance, nodding back before he'll watch her closely...

Before charging. After all, this was a sparring match, not the real thing. He'd side-step as soon as he got close, making sure to have the blunt end out, not about to actually slice her if his hit connected.

"The way that's worded, it sounds like a threat to the people. A way to keep them stifled."

She swings when he sidesteps but the hammer in her other hand catches the sword and she continues the swing till she's spun around completely and is making another strike with the first hammer.

"Could be~" she purred casually "Pretty simple power play for something so elaborate. Fear goes a long way doesn't it?"

He lets himself move with the momentum, spinning as well before sturdily pressing his weight into the ground, free hand holding the other side of his sword to offer a heavy parry.

"Fear is a viable method of control. However, long-term, I'm not certain if it would hold."

He'd give a push to the hammer, intending on back-stepping to quickly plan a new move.

"Leadership by fear tends to bring rebellion and strife, as although the people are quelled, they aren't happy about it."

"Ooo aren't we a smart one?" Harley teased and bent at the knees. She kicked off the ground pitching into a forward roll to try and get behind him.

"Got some leadership experience do ya?" She added bouncing to her feet once more and twirling the hammers skillfully. Without so much as a blink the hurled the left one at him.

Hubert turned on his heel when she rolled past him, brandishing his sword again.

"I suppose you could say that," he responded easily, although before elaborating, he would certainly avoid the hammer, throwing himself out of the way and skidding at a kneel.

"I'm a Lieutenant of the Strahtan military force back home, and had stood in as military governor for my hometown of Lhant for a short while."

He'd push himself up with his free hand, immediately assuming a defensive stance. After all, being on the ground was too vulnerable.

With only the one hammer now that she'd thrown her first one Harley appeared at the disadvantage. Still she grinned all the same and began to circle Hubert, possibly to make her way back towards the thrown hammer.

"That'll come in handy sooner or later I suppose." She mused keeping her eyes on his. Her stare was wild and crackling with energy.

"The training especially. The leadership? who knows. Some people form bonds and parties pretty quickly in the arena. Others are lone wolves to the very end."

His gaze rested steady on her own, having a feeling she intended to retrieve one of her weapons. As such, he knew that distracting her now could prove useful. And yet, he had a feeling she imagined he would do just that. Still, he'd hold his sword at the ready, as if he were about to charge.

His own eyes were sharp but contained, as though intending to mask his intentions.

"And what would you suggest?"

He was curious. After all, she had experience with the Arenas, so the more information the better.

Harley braced herself for the charge taking a more defensive stance.

"Either be the biggest jerk in the place, or make as many friends as you can. Whatever suits you more. If you think you're fast enough go for the cornucopia but if not stay away. It's a blood bath every time and you can get items later if you're smart."

"I suppose there's no middle ground, is there?"

Hubert noticed how she braced herself, instead side-stepping in an attempt to get directly in between her and her hammer- also defensive.

"Middle ground is boring. And boring gets you dead."

She stood up suddenly and spun in circle three times before flinging the hammer wildly at him. As soon as the hammer left her fingers she was staggering in a crooked sort of path towards him only to pitch to his left at the last second and roll to sweet his legs with her lower body.

Without time to reply, Hubert would duck yet again to avoid the second hammer. He supposed it made sense, given that if these Games were something of entertainment, being careful wasn't as 'interesting' as completely dipping one's toes.

Harley was good at keeping herself unpredictable, something which threw the teen off-guard. She definitely hit his legs, Hubert losing balance-- just barely awkwardly catching himself with a hand, grunting as he used that leverage to push sideways into a kneel, turning his head to see her.

She was on her feet again just as fast and offering a hand to him with a satisfied smile.

"Well you won't be helpless that's for sure. A little stiff yeah but some people like a good firm personality. Every great act needs a straight man."

He hesitated- before figuring their little spar was done, taking her hand cautiously and pulling himself to a stand.

"Mm, I suppose so." He supposed making allies in a place like this was a good idea. But similarly, he'd have to keep himself on his toes. "You're very skilled in acrobatics. I admit myself impressed."

He trusts his own capabilities, but he can definitely tell that he needs some work there. In an arena like this, fighting wasn't going to be honorable in the slightest. In fighting for survival, no one cared about any sort of propriety.

➵ testing your mettle

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

hits late tags!!!

(no subject)

(no subject)