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[cutshort]

Who| Hyperion | cutshort and YOU!
What| Someone's bored and not allowed to express his boredom through violence. What's the next best thing?
Where| Around the Capitol! You pick a place, he'll most likely show up.
When| Throughout the week.
Warnings/Notes| ... Hyperion will be Hyperion. And nobody likes Hyperion.


The Arena has been over for more than enough time to recuperate from his death, think things through, reassess what he wants to do. He's aware of the rules, aware of the system that controls him, even when no one is looking anymore, and he's been behaving.

He felt rejuvenated, when they resuscitated him. No longer starving, no longer bleeding, now longer panting for every breath of air like it would be his last. They got rid of his injuries, but the virus remains in his brain, still itching for more, making him dig his nails into the pads of his fingers and palms as he looks around in silence, observing. His gaze is unwavering - he doesn't care who he's looking at or what they're doing - an invasion of privacy even when he stands afar.

Is this all there is?

Comments

training arena

[knifewithnoname]

Pruna was training again, though she had tried out lots of different weapons she kept returning to the dagger, the weapon she had learned to use at home.

She was attacking a dummy with ferocity when she spotted the man out the corner of her eye. She span round, fear glimmering for the briefest moment before it turned into anger and she threw the dagger at him.

Lucky for everyone really it was wooden, and throwing daggers was not something she was trained in so it hurtled towards him wildly, and would probably miss.

[cutshort]

It takes him just a moment to recognize the little girl, a moment too late to discourage her from throwing the dagger she so adamantly held in her hands just seconds before. Hyperion makes no outstanding move to avoid it, wood clapping against his arm before it clatters on the floor next to his foot.

He looks down for a moment. Then his attention returns to the girl. To her throat, specifically. There's no scar, not even a trace of what he did to her in the arena. He almost hopes there was, but she clearly has many other reasons to remember who he is.

"Is that how you say hello?"

[knifewithnoname]

She notices where his gaze was and she glared at him. She wasn't even that mad truthfully, her anger had lessened when she watched him die.

"Be going to hell." She told him with a fierce grin, made a little less fierce by the fact her last baby tooth had finally fallen out, leaving her with a gap.

[cutshort]

"That's not how you say it," He replies, small smile shaping his lips. He doesn't quite mean it, but he does feel entertained. It's a novelty to see someone so young here, especially when he notices the gap between her teeth.

Bluntly: "Why do you talk like that?"

[knifewithnoname]

"Because this do be how people who do no be fucking stupid do be talking like." She stuck her tongue out.

"Why do you be talking like that?"

[cutshort]

"You think I'm stupid?" His lips split in a grin, almost genuine, for once. He can ignore her question for now.

[knifewithnoname]

"Yes." She grinned back. "You do be being pretty stupid. You did be making loads of enemies."

[cutshort]

The insult does little to his humor.

"Are you my enemy?"

Does she really think so highly of herself when her death was so easy?

[knifewithnoname]

"Yes, I will be beating you next time." She told him seriously and shrugged.

[cutshort]

"You'll have to learn how to throw a lot better than that."

He could teach her, if she liked.

[knifewithnoname]

"What do you think I do be being down here for then?" She stuck her tongue out at him. She had never actually learned throwing daggers before but she could see how it would be useful if she could get the dagger to actually stick.

[cutshort]

His smile wasn't unkind. There was little that could be called genuine about it, though - but that was just Hyperion. A mass of falsified emotions to resemble something that was once human.

"I could teach you."

[knifewithnoname]

"You would be teaching me?" She wrinkled her nose, "No tricks? If you do be teaching me wrong I will be being killing you."

[cutshort]

"Won't you be killing me either way?" She'd said it herself. All he had were enemies, all he'd left as his legacy was the thirst for revenge.

Still, he wouldn't let her answer. "No tricks."

[knifewithnoname]

"Yes, but if you do be tricking me I will be making it painful." She threatened.

She gave him a suspicious look but walked closer. "You can be teaching me if you do be wanting to."

[cutshort]

He'd like to see her try. Funny, what they said about curiosity.

Tipping his head towards the dagger, "Pick it up."

[knifewithnoname]

She nodded and did so, holding it in a proper grip even if it was a grip used for knife fighting not throwing.

[cutshort]

He took the dagger from her without ceremony, though the gesture was given the slightest bit of care. With a quiet request for permission, if you will.

"Come here."

He moved away, farther from the target she'd been practicing on.

[knifewithnoname]

She followed him silently as he moved away from the target, watching him carefully, ready to learn.

[cutshort]

"You hold it like this," He shows her, no further explanation. Hyperion never claimed to be a good teacher, but this is better than nothing, isn't it? It is certainly better than showing her when she's standing on the side of the target. "Don't look at it. Just look at where you want it to go."

With that, he throws it onto the nearest target. It fails to carve into it, seeing as it's made of wood, but the effect is close enough to what he intended to achieve.

"Go pick it up and try."

[knifewithnoname]

She watched really closely, seeing how his hands were and making the same movement with her own despite not having a knife. She was used to having to learn fast and accurately.

She nodded and picked up the knife, holding it like he had and staring at the target.

She threw it and it hit the edge, spinning off. She frowned.

[celebrityskinned]

The worst thing about having new tastebuds is that you want to taste everything; the unfortunate thing about being a TV personality is that you have to stay thin. Venus is waging these two impulses against each other, and is left feeling vaguely unsatisfied in both directions when she's spent the day on a diet of delicious but repetitive smoothies.

Thankfully, the smoothie place has a TV, and that's where Venus does her homework. It doesn't look like homework, of course; it's just her sitting there in a white cozy chair with her feet propped on a low glass table and her eyes shielded with big sunglasses, watching repeats of the Games and idly texting on her communicator, but she's working hard. She's taking notes, taking names.

And so when she sees one of the standout performers from last season walking outside, through the wall-sized window she's set up against, she can't help but wave, smile, and crook her finger to beckon him in.

[cutshort]

He follows the finger after a moment of pause, thinking, wondering. It's clear to see what she's doing inside, relaxed and concentrated, and he doesn't seem to mind that she has both spotted him and invited (- or dared -) him to come a little closer.

Hyperion doesn't so much as glance at the screen.

"Evening."

[celebrityskinned]

"Howdy, stranger." She mock-salutes, then gestures that he should sit with her in one of the plush chairs. "Can I buy a smoothie for one of the recent champions?"

It's not as flirtatious as a drink, but she's not here to flirt. She's hoping to pick his brains a little and know what to expect.

[cutshort]

Hyperion doesn't move from his place. His expression is neither hostile nor welcoming, merely observant - but maybe a closer look could see the beginning of a smile.

"No, thanks."

He'd rather hear what she has to tell him.

[celebrityskinned]

"Well, there goes my opening line." She shrugs and pushes her sunglasses back to sweep her hair out of her face.

"I saw you're pretty effective in the Arena. Kind of impressive, honestly, but nothing I haven't seen before. I was wondering how you feel about...arrangements."

She takes a long sip from her smoothie.

[cutshort]

She's watched the entire time, with a little too much intent behind his eyes - like he's searching for something hidden behind her words.

"Arrangements."

She'll have to explain herself.

[celebrityskinned]

"Yeah, arrangements." She checks her fingernails, newly painted bright, shimmering gold. Capitol technology makes them change colors with her mood, but so far she's just seen various shades of sunny metallics.

"Look, I know you're a professional. I'm a professional, too. I was wondering how you felt about really putting on a show with this next Arena, instead of just hacking up some kids and then petering out in the last week."

[cutshort]

He's curious, if nothing else. Perhaps slightly puzzled. Yes, he's aware that it's meant to be a show for many, but all he cared about was serving his own purpose. She's proposing he serve an exterior one now.

"What's in it for me?"

A question he doesn't exactly like to ask, but has to.

[celebrityskinned]

"I don't want to win." She picks her straw out of her smoothie and blows air through it. "So at the end, Battle of the Sexes, we put on a show, but you get to win. If that's what you want."

She shrugs. "If not I'll just get the zombie chick to kill me at the end. But I am getting to the top two."

[cutshort]

"What makes you sure you'll make it to the end?"

Was she asking for his protection?

[celebrityskinned]

"Like I said. I'm a professional." She grins and winks. "What, you can't tell?"

[cutshort]

Well. She did ask.

"No."

Surely she wouldn't want him to be anything but blunt about it.

[celebrityskinned]

"Good, I can play the ingenue." She grins and tilts her head to the side. "So, what do you say?"

[cutshort]

There's a pause. Hyperion glances around them, apparently noncommittal.

"Sure."

[celebrityskinned]

She grins. She has dimples that could sell babyfood. "Good. I'll see you at the victory table, hotshot."

[cutshort]

Perhaps. He keeps the skepticism to himself, for once.

"I didn't get your name."

[celebrityskinned]

"Venus. I don't need yours. It seems you've already made one for yourself."

She doesn't offer to shake hands, just pushes her sunglasses back to the bridge of her nose and returns her attention to the television.