#tbptraining1

[treeeeeeeeeeees-blog]

Even though my time with Styx had put me in a good mood, one look at Salem in the boxing ring and it vanished.  I hated that I was still so annoyed with him, but I was over being passive.  The stars were aligned, he was alone in the ring, waiting for someone to punch him.  My time has come.  

I wrapped my fists in tape the way the instructor showed me and hopped in the ring with a scowl.  

“Salem.”  I coldly state.  

[sawyer-caldwell]

Trick or Treat? || Edible Plants & Insects || OS

Tearing myself from the library had to be one of the hardest things I had done in living memory, but we had to visit at least two stations, and I wasn’t interested in ticking off the GameMakers. I wanted their attention, but the right kind of attention, and the right kind of attention was definitely not breaking their rules. I had seen what happened to troublesome Tributes in the arena, and I was definitely not in want of that fate.

I could outwit any of the mere mortals that I’d be facing in the arena, but I knew better than to expect that I could beat out the Gods who controlled the arena.

Most of the stations were occupied by various Tributes, but the Edible Plants and Insects station seemed to be left alone for the time being. Shrugging to myself, I decided to make my way over, not really in the mood to listen to some idiot yammer away in my ear about nonsense. And anyway, it would be good to brush up on that sort of thing. While I was very familiar with the plants in Ten, I doubt that they’d put us out in an idyllic, sunny prairie.

The Trainer went over some basic rules before leaving me alone with some helpful illustrated books of berries and leaves. Flipping through absently, I could feel the boredom taking over. As important as the information was, I absorbed it easily and had little trouble noting the distinguishing marks of the various plant life.

Smirking as an idea popped into my head, I picked up two nearly identical berries, one poisonous and one delicious. Carefully popping off the sepals off, easily switched them, reattaching them with pitch from a discarded branch. Examining it closely, I grinned at my work, pulling over a handful of each, being mindful to keep them separated until they were set up the way I wanted.

With all of my berries fixed, I presented the ‘poison’ berries to the Trainer, biting back my laughter as he shook his head in disappointment, pointing to the handful of my ‘good’ berries. I blanched as he reached down, scooping up a few to pop into his mouth.

“Don’t eat those!” I exclaim, knocking them out of his hand.

Scowling, he straightened his spine, trying to intimidate me, I suppose? Well, it might have worked since he was so much taller, had it not been for the fact that he couldn’t even tell the stupid berries apart.

“They’re poison. I switched the sepals.” At his bewildered expression, I rolled my eyes, picking up on of the berries. “These little green things? They’re called sepals. I pulled them off and used pitch to reattach them on the wrong berries.”

Without another word, I walked away from the station. Clearly the Trainer was an idiot, and I had no interest in pretending to care about what he had to say. At the very least, I had learned a few things from the books at the station, as well as a fun little trick for the arena, should I ever have need for it.

[naxos-cadfan]

Self Help || First Aid and Basic Survival || OS

“Now the reason the enlightened prince and the wise general conquer the enemy whenever they move and their achievements surpass those of ordinary men is foreknowledge.”

I still had a handful of hours left before training closed tonight and wanted to spend some time at the various survival stations, having gotten a diverse fill of the physical ones through the day.   

My knowledge of first aid was elementary, I have to admit. We learned the basics in school; how to treat basic bumps and bruises, what you should and should not do, etc. I took to a book and a few charts, sat myself down and started reading. 

The first bit of material I went through was attending to wounds, both shallow and deep. The trainer didn’t have to tell me “the remedies and means of treatment may not be readily available to you in the Arena.” I was already well aware. But for now, I took in the instructions and then moved to a fake limb for some practice.

The wound on the limb was a deep gash, one that poured out blood when you touched it to simulate a vital wound. I didn’t see anything embedded in it, like a piece of wood, shard of glass, but there was a bit of dirt on it. Delicately I cleaned it the best I could, then moved onto applying pressure, to stop the bleeding. Gently I took a piece of clean cloth and wrapped it tightly around the wound, pressing my palm against it to stop the flow of blood. 

Thankfully it didn’t seep through the one cloth and I maintained my pressure on it, all while skimming over a diagram on the proper way to treat burns, and the difference between 1st, 2nd and 3rd degree burns. There was also a small bit on chemical and electric burns. Those were vaguely familiar, given Threes main industry, it isn’t all that surprising some of the science classes include a lesson or two on how to properly attend to these types of injuries.

After five-ten minutes I gently released my pressure on the limb and slowly pulled the cloth back. The wound wasn’t bleeding anymore. Onto stitching.

I pulled over a first aid kit and out a bottle of a disinfectant solution to clean the wound out with. The edges didn’t need to be prepared. The needle provided was in a sterile package already, I wouldn’t need to wash it. Following the pattern in the book I sewed the wound shut, applied a bit of disinfectant cream, and bandaged it properly.

I stood and replaced the fake limb and book on the basics of first aid on the table, my eyes darting to the other titles and books along the table. There was so much information available to us here, vital information that could make or break a potentially fatal situation in the Arena.

...fuck it. 

I spent the remainder of the first day of training sifting through what the station had to offer: natural remedies, poisons and antidotes, animal and insect bites, how to treat dislocations and fractures. For the briefest moment I felt like I was back home, becoming lost in the material.

The dull ringing of a bell echoed through the training center, signaling the end of the day. Apparently I had lost track of time.

Wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened. 

I took to the stairs rather than the elevator to get back to the third floor, feeling a bit restless having sat at the first aid and survival station for easily a few hours. I jogged up the stairs, mulling over what I had read in my head, reinforcing it. 

Better to be over prepared than unprepared. 

[sawyer-caldwell]

Trust No One || Library || OS

The library they had in the training center was easily three times the size of the ‘library’ we had in District Ten. As soon as the head Trainer said we were allowed to go, I made a beeline to the stacks, pulling down books on fighting techniques and strategies while setting up the projector to play the highlight reels of all of the past games, not just the few we had access to in Ten.

Already I was feeling more confident. After the Parade, my first instinct was to retreat to the suite to prepare for the first day of training. They never broadcasted the intensive training they put the Tributes through, so I wanted to be sure I was at my best. I’d never been too keen on surprises, and doubted that would change anytime soon. Still, the last thing I wanted was to give anyone the jump on me.

With a pen in hand, I began to scratch down notes on combat techniques as reel after reel played in the room. Suddenly, a familiar voice caught my attention. On the screen was a young Merona, bloody and weak, but standing victoriously over the corpse of the last tribute who stood in the way of her victory.

What caught my attention wasn’t just the mess that was once another young teenager. No, as cruel as it was, I’d seen many a fallen tribute, it was the satiation in her eyes. There wasn’t sadness or confusion, only pride and satisfaction. She looked every bit the image of a Victor, despite the fact that she started out looking anything but.

Turning to look back towards the training room, I saw my fellow Tributes sparring and fighting and training. Some looked confident, their skill obvious and confidence deserved. Others looked like they had never touched a butter knife, never less any of the deadly weapons they were being given to wield. It was a strange juxtaposition, to see so many different approaches to the same assignment we’d all been given. Standing, I called over the sole Trainer in the library and requested the footage of the Reapings for this game.

Best to know your competition, as it were.

Settling back into my arm chair, I gave the screen my full and undivided attention. I was just one of twenty-four, regardless of how intellectually superior I was to most of them. At the end of the day, there was no way I could afford a dark horse jumping out of the shadows, the way that Merona had done in her own Games.

There was a balance that had to be met. Be enough of a threat to defer active annihilation, but vulnerable enough to be written off as a non issue. As each of my competitors flashed by on the projection, I made mental notes on their quirks and dispositions. Were the girls who threw up on stage really that pathetic? Or was it a ploy to gain sympathy. Were the boys who Volunteered really competent? Or did they think strength was enough to win their Games?

Only time would tell, but there was one thing I was sure of: I could trust no one.

[heisjudas-blog]

☓ RUN DEVIL RUN☓

Judas’ nose wrinkled as he saw the bucket of shoes that awaited all those that entered the station labeled “Track.” A mix of all different sizes of this peculiar type of shoe were just dumped in there, a foul odor drifting up from the bucket. Whoever used these shoes before must have never learned about personal hygiene. With regret lining his actions, he dropped to the floor and found a pair of shoes that fit him and slipped them on. It didn’t even feel like he was wearing anything. He probably should have expected something like this from Capitol made goods.

Once he had finished, he stood up only to see someone standing right in front of him. He flinched and started to move back, but stopped when he saw the uniform they were wearing. In that moment, Judas honestly wanted to pull a Joan from District Four and vomit all over the ground, because what this man was wearing was absolutely god-awful. 

There, standing with his legs spread out and hands behind his back, was a middle aged man with shorts that should be on a little girl and a shirt that was torn down all the way on the sides. A smile that would absolutely murder Daisy’s was plastered on his face and he just stood there, smiling at Judas. 

(fuck this i’m out)

“No! Wait, son!” The man yelled out and based on the footsteps Judas could tell he was coming after him. The only reason he stopped and turned to face the man was that Judas knew this man would be the type to tackle Judas to the ground in order to stop him.

“Oh thank you! Listen, listen, listen, listen, listen, listen, listen... I just wanted to help! Ha! Please! Okay. I am Edward, I shall be your trainer! I know you’re probably very excited, for you see, I am considered a master work out artist in the Capitol. Yes, yes, I know, save your applause--”

While this man was giving the air around him a speech, Judas walked past him when he wasn’t looking and addressed what looked like a little control panel that was hovering in the air. Judas carefully approached it and, to his shock, he saw different options for the track course. Picking one blindly, Judas watched in awe as the screen beeped a few times, turned a deep red color, and then made a clicking noise. It was a rather strange series of events that Judas did not want to be involved in anymore. Instead, he walked along the track and waited for something to happen.

(why isn’t anything happening)

He stood there for a solid thirty seconds, waiting for something to happen only to find the exact opposite happened. Judas simply rolled his eyes and started jogging on the regular track, disappointed in the Capitol technology for failing him. It was ironic, that. The fact that he was actually depending on the Capitol to supply him with something he actually wanted. He made a mental note to never rely on something spawning from the Capitol ever again.

As he was jogging, he got to thinking about more important things. For one, he was still troubled over what the head of the facility had said, though he didn’t really feel like giving it that much thought right now. Another was the mystery surrounding his mentor, Daisy. He desperately wanted to learn more about her and he knew exactly how. At some point, he would have to watch the games that she won. Finally, the fact that he was here in the Capitol, about to compete in the Hunger Games was the biggest issue on his mind.

(faster)

Suddenly, Judas noticed that the track in front of him was changing. The floor was becoming bumpy and it was changing at a constant speed. It was as if there were bubbles under the floor and they were shuffling about. It made running, which was what Judas had to do in order to bypass the bumps in the floor, much harder. It was nothing that Judas couldn’t handle, though. It seemed that he wouldn’t have time to think about this right now. The Capitol technology finally started working.

(FASTER)

Soon, the bumps started to fade away and were replaced instead by a rocky type of terrain. Judas had to hand it to the Capitol, their neglect of an entire nation sure made it more challenging for him to run. Nevertheless, Judas did not stop running. He needed this. It would be good for him to be experienced with a variety of different environments...

... Judas gasped for breath, trying to push air back into his lungs so as to stay conscious. He found himself a nice spot on the floor and took a seat, his legs sprawled out before him and his arms supporting him. 

(fuck fuck fuck)

After the bumps came the swamp environment. It felt so weird. It was like water, but thicker. Then came the desert sand. It was so strange. He had never seen sand before and he did not expect it to feel like that. With every step he took, he felt himself slipping deeper and deeper into the sand. He was lucky he didn’t break a leg trying to run through the stuff. 

(so HOT)

When he got up a few minutes later, Judas once again found himself standing in front of that strange trainer man. A scowl formed on Judas’ face at the very sight of him. He did not want to deal with this right now. So, he did not. Pushing past the man, Judas ran his fingers through his damp hair as he listened to the man ranting about something irrelevant behind him. It didn’t matter. He didn’t matter. He decided to completely push the very notion of his existence out of his mind as he walked on to the next station.

[joanair-blog]

Hall of Fame ➟ Swords ➟ Joan + Styx

After eating only the healthiest of meals as my mentor insisted, I was ushered back onto the training floor. I had been mostly messing around all morning, and I knew that I should start actually practicing with things I would need to know in the arena. I’d already gone over life skills and even swam a bit, but those were not going to help me in a fight. I knew how to throw a spear from my life in Four, and I knew that I wouldn’t do very great wielding an axe.

However, the swords station was mostly bare, with other tributes either eating or working at other skills. Actually, it was completely abandoned, except for... Game Maker Styx. I weighed my chances of being slaughtered before the games even started against actually picking up some tips from the man, and decided to give it a shot.

I walked up to the station, looking upwards at the rather, ah, large man. I wasn’t afraid, though I’m sure he could have crushed me with his pinky finger. I wanted to learn how to use a sword, and I was determined to make it happen.

“Hi, ah, Game Maker Styx.” I waved, catching his attention. “I was wondering if you could help me. With the swords, or spar with me.” I prayed after the words left my mouth, wanting nothing more than to leave this encounter alive and will a new skill. The new skill would probably be learning to write without my arms, if I was being honest.

[treeeeeeeeeeees-blog]

When the announcment came that there would be an opportunity to train with Game Maker Styx, a lot of the tributes backed off.  Not many would be dumb enough to take the hulk one on one in the first day.  However I knew I could achieve any level of dumbness I set my mind to, and thus found myself approaching the giant.  

“What up?”  I start.  “Up for some hand to hand combat?”

[heisjudas-blog]

☓ CHELSEA DAGGER ☓

“Knives may not seem like much compared to other types of weapons like swords, spears, and axes, but they can be just as deadly. You just need to know how to wield and use it, right? It’s simple once you get the hang of it. Plus, a simple hidden knife can mean the difference between life and death when you’re ambushed by a tribute...”

As he listened to her and took in all the advice that he could, Judas started to fiddle with the knife in his hands. It was a rather large knife compared to some of the other ones he had seen at the station. Chelsea, the trainer that was helping him, recommended it for someone of his size. Judas was a bit skeptical at this because he knew he was not the tallest tribute. There were plenty of males that were taller than he. Still, he wasn’t the smallest one either, plus she was the experienced one, so he did not question her choices.

(looks like some of the Capitol people were actually good for something after all)

“Okay, go ahead and try using it on your own.” Chelsea took a few steps back and Judas took a few steps forward closer to the training dummies. He picked one that was shaped just like a human and gripped his knife tightly in his hand. He had never held something like this before, so he wanted to make sure he was doing it right. With a firm hand on the handle, Judas stepped forward and slashed with the knife. He would have stopped there, but he wanted to do better. Using the momentum from the first slash, Judas stepped forward once more and slashed upwards with the large knife. The result on the dummy was a large “X” shape across the torso. Taking a moment to examine the depth of the cuts, Judas decided that they were not deep enough. These might have wounded a tribute, but they wouldn’t have killed them. In the arena, he knew there would not be any opportunities to just wound someone; he had to make sure that they were dead.

“Not bad, kid. You’ll get there, I’m sure of it.” Chelsea’s voice echoed around Judas as he rubbed his fingers along the dummy. Glancing back, Judas noticed that she was off to help some other tribute. Looking back at the dummy, Judas focused on a point on the center of the dummy and took a few steps back.

(I’m going to get it this time)

This time, he ran at the dummy, holding the knife with the tip facing down instead of up. When he got close enough, he swung his arm and slammed the knife into the center of the dummy and ripped to the side, causing a larger gash than before to appear on the dummy. 

(this is so bizarre)

Yanking the knife out of the dummy, Judas inspected the gash this time. It was deeper, he was right. He wouldn’t know if this would be enough to kill someone, but he would just have to work harder to make sure. 

(I hate this... but I have to)

Walking back to the other knives available, Judas exchanged his knife for a small one, one that would be more easy to conceal. He would practice concealing it, but this spandex suit they were having him wear didn’t leave any extra room for anything. Picking it up, he discovered that it was far lighter than the first knife. As he moved it around his fingers, getting a feel for the weapon, Judas picked up his head and stared at the Gamemakers sitting on their own little edge above them. These people sure did know how to be sadistic...

Not wanting to pay them any more mind, Judas turned and went to work with this knife. He continued the cycle of using a knife, attacking the dummy with it, getting the feel for the weapon, and then picking a new knife and, thus, the cycle started anew again. Every time he went back to get a new knife, however, he thought about the Gamemakers and what they were going to do to all twenty-four tributes once the games began.

(sadistic fucks)