lyme (lyme) wrote in colosseum, @ 2014-01-12 15:34:00 |
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Brutus slipped into the training area through a side door, greeted by the sounds of rubber soles squawking against floormats and the shrill blast of a whistle. Technically, he was not supposed to be observing this session of training. After the last Hunger Games, he'd returned to District 2 and had words with several trainers about the perspective tributes having some level of understanding regarding respecting authority. He hadn't gone in expecting his unsolicited advice to go over well, but even he hadn't predicted posturing towards a Peacekeeper whose mustache he had insulted, nor the fact that everything had nearly ended in concussive blows. A little blood spatter, on the other hand -- that was just a test of reflexes, really. In any case, it had been suggested that he not return for a while. He'd even obliged until today. The competition between students was drawing near and Marcus had mentioned that he'd seen Diana headed towards the training site. He found her there, looking serious, and sank down into the seat next to her. "You liking what you're seeing?" he asked, peering down at the hand to hand going on in the center of the room. His eyes flicked from one young person to another, bright with interest. There was only one thing better than watching a good fight, and that was participating in it. Diana was lost in thought, sat down and watching the oldest set of potential volunteers as they trained. She didn’t know any of them this year, no more friends or siblings of friends to pick out from the pack. Hands clasped, she sat watching in silence, only looking up when Brutus sat beside her. Fight practices were taking place all about the place, and a few had already caught her eye. “Him, with the dark hair,” Diana motioned her head slightly to the left, aware that directly pointing someone out would be less inconspicuous. “He’s putting a lot of effort in, but dragging his right leg a little whenever he moves. I think his partner’s spotted it, too soon to tell. He’s got more drive than half of them, though. That girl to his right, she’s interesting too.” Her expression softened a little as she looked to Brutus. “Some of them look faintly bored today. Perhaps they think they’re ready for the competition already.” Brutus studied both students to whom Diana had pointed, frowning appraisingly. She'd assessed the boy's stance accurately -- a talent at which the best prospective volunteers excelled -- and he nodded in agreement after a moment. "And he's big," he added. Not that that was all that mattered, but after Pearce and Twinning's rather diminutive statures, he wouldn't mind having someone who was physically impressive. He glanced sideways at her, not bothering to hide a disgusted look at the idea that some of the students thought they were already prepared. "Great." His response lacked enthusiasm. "That's just what we need. Last year Twinning got on my ass about not being helpful enough. Or not being helpful enough in the right ways." He clasped his hands together and let them hang between his knees. "You have that to look forward to," he said. "I'm going to send them your direction when they start bleating at me. It just makes me want to knock sense in them." It was the first time he'd really talked to Diana about working with her. He wasn't sure what to think about it, since he liked establishing his own space, but he and Livya had not agreed on everything last year, so a new slate might not be that bad. “And I won’t knock sense into them?” Diana smiled, looking to him for a moment. “Perhaps some sense is exactly what they need. Of course,” she hesitated, trying to be a little fairer about things, “You’re the expert. You tell me.” She turned away from her view of the trainees, watching Brutus carefully. She’d had a lot of questions ready for him about them working together. “What was it like, last year. Difficult?” Expert. The sound of dry amusement escaped through his nose. "One year and two dead tributes doesn't make me an expert," he answered after a moment. "But maybe a couple, separate beatings would encourage ignorant tributes to listen better." He wasn't keen on discussing his failing first year as a mentor, but he knew he couldn't just ignore Diana's question, especially since she was going to work with him this year. He took a deep breath and watched the training for a few moments before answering. "Yeah," he said. "It was, I guess. I don't know. Everyone was soliciting advice, and I think mine was judged harshly. Its delivery was, too." He frowned. "But fuck, I don't know about the girly side of interviews and shit, except that I always appreciated an attractive tribute who could wield a weapon. They judge you hard, too. The Capitol. For all you're given the responsibility of mentoring, you can't control what's going on in the Arena. You can't stop your tributes from being flattened by a fat kid, or falling into a Gamemaker trap, or making a stupid decision to split an alliance early. You just have to sit there and figure out what way you're going to spin their decisions for sponsor money. Hope for a sympathetic sponsor." He finally looked at Diana. "That part sucks. Four winning two years in a row really sucks, too." She nodded, an attempt at trying to be encouraging, ignoring the combat drills going on as she listened to Brutus. “Lots of expectation, then?” She grimaced, knowing that pressure wasn’t going to be something that she’d take happily. Lyme leaned back a little in her chair, pressing her hands tighter together as she thought about it. “At least they won’t be doing a third one in a row. And,” she added, a slight smile crossing her features, “At least it wasn’t District One that had two in a row.” "Yeah," he replied flatly. It would be the same this year, if not worse. He could already imagine what the Capitol would be saying about District 2's "unseasoned" mentors this year. Pearce and Twinning had lasted a long time in the Arena, but neither had had any kind of success that could be attributed to Brutus' mentoring. And once again, he'd only had a year (less than that -- mere weeks) to showcase his skills before Diana stepped up to join him. Lymelight, is how he thought of it, privately. She was never far behind. And he liked her, he did, but he wasn't great at sharing. "Third in a row?" He snorted in disgust. "I don't think I could handle more modest support from Maalik. I half expected him to knit me a handkerchief to wipe away my tears." He paused. "Nah. That would be funny. I'm giving him too much credit now. Anyway," he leaned back in his chair. "You're right. District One would gloat more." His next question was only preceded by a moment's thought. "What made you decide you want to mentor now? You have game-changing plans?" She shook her head quickly. “Distraction, mostly,” she admitted, unashamed by her reasoning. Diana hadn’t really been doing much in the years since her win, an unwanted accessory at the best of times and only able to take out her frustrations on the Capitolites that were around them. “Sick of doing nothing, want to do something. No noble motivations, sorry.” She smiled a little once again, thinking of the District Four victor as Brutus mentioned him. “I think I can deal with Maalik, you just have to shut the conversation down.” Diana hesitated before speaking again. “But I don’t understand why they say sorry each year.” She shrugged her shoulders. "To keep the friendliness in our alliance, of course." A grin slowly sharpened the ends of his mouth. "You know what we should do? As long as we're skipping noble motivations? We should tell our next two tributes to take out Four at the Cornucopia." He snapped his fingers. "Belly up. Just like that." Imagining the reactions alone was nearly motivation enough to do it. Brutus wasn't sure he could pull off naive, but he could make pointless and insincere apologies as well as the rest of them. "Seriously, though," Brutus pulled his gaze away from Diana, as he generally did when he was about to say something genuinely nice, "you've got it together. I think we could have a successful year. Tip the odds in our favor." “It’s a nice thought,” Diana agreed, clearly amused by the idea of skipping noble motivations. She paused, thoughts drifting to the idea of the next year and finding herself agreeing with Brutus. Between them it could be a promising year. She nodded. “And yeah, yes. Agreed.” "Good," Brutus replied. "Let's hope we agree on more than that, when the time comes. We might actually be able to get one of these assholes somewhere." |