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

"That's only because you're on the wrong end of the slingshot."

He fires a few more, missing a couple of times. He seems to be building some accuracy though, at least now that he's trying to hit Hyperion dead center in his chest.

"I could say the same about you if you keep doing that."

One of his hands suddenly moves to catch a straight shot. No normal person is supposed to be that fast, but the gesture isn't entirely impressive. Just probably unexpected. He drops it shortly after.

Now things are getting interesting. This is a better outcome than he expected and his blood is pumping fast now, his smile growing wider.

"Think you could do that with a bullet? I know many a man who's tried."

Bert lets the sling of his slingshot go slack, a minor peace offering.

"We could try." It was a great sacrifice, to exchange his arms for what he has now, a perfect imitation of limbs save for the lack of bones beneath. It's nothing but metal and circuits blending in with blood and nerves. He had done for Helios, his brother. To become a Scrounger and find him somewhere beneath the rubble of destruction he'd left behind. Now he is gone, and all that remains of his existence is the virus in Hyperion's brain. "Would you like to watch?"

If not here, then in the arena. It's a show he wouldn't mind providing.

"I would love to test out just how bullet proof you are, but I fear they would not let me have a weapon like that here."

More's the pity. He was actually wearing a pair of holsters made to fit a couple of decent sized guns, but they're currently empty as he has nothing worthwhile to replace them with.

"Ain't that a shame." Whether that was sarcasm or not is left unclear, but Hyperion really wouldn't mind seeing him try. Something about his defiance makes him feel subtly defiant in return. "We'll have to think of something else."