thecapitol | (no subject)

WHO| Cuthbert Allgood and Open!
WHAT| Food fight... sort of
WHEN| Afternoon on a day when nothing all that interesting is going on.
WHERE| Training Center
WARNINGS/NOTES| Minor injuries possible in this post.

It took some serious searching and luck and probably pestering various people who work for the Capitol, but Cuthbert has managed to get a decent slingshot to practice with. He knew he should have been practicing more of his close range and trapping skills, they would serve him better in a place where he wasn't likely to get the weapon he really wanted. But the temptation to practice with something he was comfortable with was just too much to resist.

Which went a little ways toward explaining what he was up to at the moment: firing unpopped popcorn kernels at anything he considered a worthy target in the Training Center arena. That included other tributes, so long as they had something interesting to aim at.

"Damn! These things are just too small."

He wasn't as accurate with the popcorn as he had been with the steel balls he used to use, but far less chance of getting in trouble this way (he hoped). It may not be wise to bend over until he has been disarmed or runs out of ammo.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It's a shame he doesn't have much in the way of respect for either authority or, to a lesser extent, women. Because that should probably be terrifying. Instead it has kind of the opposite affect on him.

"I have every confidence in my ability to survive the elements. But I have less confidence that I will be able to shoot a slingshot accurately when the time comes."

Which is why he loads another kernel and takes aim at her feet.

Her eyes narrow as she watches him reload the sling. Almost challengingly. But when she speaks, her tone is level, and almost conversational.

"Then by all means, continue with your little toy. But do not make your lack of ability my problem"

"I promise with the correct size of projectile I never miss."

Which brings into question how much of this is him not being able to handle something as tiny as popcorn and how much of it is just him being an ass. He hits a spot right between her feet, still teasing and challenging her.

"Mayhap you've never really practiced this sort of thing, but 'tis harder to hit a moving target. That is where I really need practice."

"Then one wonders why you are practicing then." She refuses to let him rile her. As the kernel pings the floor between her feet, she shifts slightly and steps on it pointedly. "If you need practice with moving targets, I suggest you remove yourself to the roof and practice on the birds. Leave the training room to those who wish to actually train."

"I was not aware we could take the weapons out of here. Or are you attempting to get me in trouble as payment for doing this?" And by 'this' he means hitting her again on the boot with a piece of popcorn.

It's sad how far Bert will go for attention sometimes, even (or especially) negative attention like this. So long as he knows he's making her angry, he isn't likely to stop.

She raises an eyebrow. "I am sure a clever boy such as yourself could manage with such a simple weapon" Ignoring him was looking more and more like a good idea, but if she just turned her back on him, she had little doubt he'd continue to shoot those annoying little bits at her back. And she has never been one to suffer fools.

"Are your skills limited to children's toys?"

"In this place, they are. There's a good reason they wouldn't trust me with a gun, and it has nothing to do with my aim."

He toys with the slingshot some more, sending a few kernels straight up and letting them fall on him without much reaction.

"The gun and the blade have their place with true soldiers" Oscar says, moving with casual purpose over towards one of the weapon racks. "But slings are the weapons of shepherds and children." She picks up one of the light blades, testing its balance. "You've given little doubt as to which you are"

Cuthbert frowns, he's never been good with swords or long blades, and his short blade work is passable at best.

"Some shepherd I am, without so much as a sheep to my name here."

He steps back a bit and selects a spear with a serrated edge off another rack of weapons. He isn't going to get caught in a fight with his pants down, so to speak.

"A child then" It isn't a a question, but she smiles a little as he picks up the spear. At her comment or his choice of weapon, it is uncertain. She makes a few experimental passes with the blade before settling into a relaxed fighting stance. "Unless you wish to attempt to prove otherwise"