Post #2133907 in The 70th Annual Hunger Games, a roleplay on RPG

Avalon Shire

The piercing screams began to unfoil through Avalon's ears. Her movements were slow to fit the now disinclined motion that filled the apprehensive situation. Her eyes drifted upon the arrow that sped above her shoulder; she took in each ripple of air, hoping it wouldn't pulse through her aching skin. Her pupils were vast, gathering the surroundings around her while her heart throbbed against her tense chest. The sweet smell of pine turned into a scent of burning air, creating a crisp sense to everything in the area. Her shoe pressed against the breaking ground beneath her, jolting her body with each step into the ambience above. The thoughts of adrenaline skipped across her mind when she started running faster with each pace. Darkness began to swarm aginst her sore body, wrapping her into a bed of endless slumber. Her knees hit the ground as a sharp tingle of pain ran against her spine. Her eyes closed, accepting the fate that overtook her. No more darkness.

The turmoil inside of Avalon created a shrieking wail that escaped her lungs. Pressing her palms against the sheets, she jolted upward, now breathing laboriously. Sweat coated her face, indicating the inner horror that bursted from the nightmare. The rise and fall of her chest faded when she realized her setting was now reality, not a place of fear. Her eyelids shut when short breaths of air folded across her lips. Her head turned, revolving her eyes to examine the room. It was still the same, white drapes were slung above the gleaming windows, and the elegant fragrance still lingered in the air. Her fingers contracted the soft textured blankets below her in an action of worry.

It was going to be a long day.

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"This is an underground gymnasium filled with training stations and obstacle courses where the you prepare and practice for the challenges in the arena. The training stations spaced throughout the center are based on different skills that may be useful in the arena, including knot tying, identifying edible plants and insects, camoflauge, and practicing with weapons. Experts are placed at each station to instruct and serve as training partners to the tributes, but you are forbidden to fight each other before the Games actually begin." The nimble woman stood there, explaining the view of the training center. Avalon observed her, she was a dark-skinned woman with black hair tied back in a loose ponytail and dark eyes. Her training outfit has the Capitol seal visible. Unlike most Capitol citizens, she looked normal to a modern or district-oriented perspective. Avalon studied the gymnasium, eyeing each of its features now. It was a modern area, like most in the Capitol, but with a quiet function in the air. Avalon stood, standing tall without character. She didn't want to look interesting, but strided for intimidation against her enemies, though, she shook within herself. Her attention was now aimed towards the actual tributes, who stood there with pride and glory marked across their faces.

She was a snack.

"23 of you will be dead soon enough," The woman went on, jolting Avalon back to focus. "Most of you will die of natural causes, or stupid mistakes. Don't ignore the skills in order to-" Avalon ignored the woman, still watching the tributes. The careers were in a cluster, likely ignoring the woman as she was. The District 2 male stood there, his eyes crossing the rest of his prey. Beside him stood the District 2 female tribute along with the District 1 male and District 3 female, smiling with each other. Avalon's heart began to beat quicker, then she tried to calming herself. All efforts didn't seem to be working.

"Remember to be strong Avalon, you look like a weakling compared to the rest of the tributes." Avalon had remembered Slade's wonderful comment this morning in the elevator on the way to the training center. She now realized he was right, and tried to stay as focused as possible.

"Good luck." The woman turned, heading towards the gamemakers that would now be observing each of the tributes. Avalon stood there while many of the other tributes dispersed amongst the gymnasium. Her chest tightened.

Vittorio.

She wanted to watch him, make sure he was alright, protect him in any possible way. A different feeling bursted inside of her each time she saw him- and she couldn't explain why. Confusion was the usual emotion when she thought of Vittorio, especially today. Why is he avoiding me? He had kept a distance from Avalon all throughout the day, making sure he wouldn't connect through her path of thoughts. Somehow she wanted to guard him from harm, make sure he was always there. He was the only one she cared about in the Capitol, one of the few she actually cared about anywhere. She watched him pace his way towards a punching bag that hung from and iron rack. Maybe I did something... Avalon bit her lip. She always did something. The pressure pounded against her heart as heaviness approached it. Avalon decided she would stay away from him, make him feel alright and safe away from her confusing moods.

He didn't need her, she needed him.

The thought shocked her. She instantly ignored it, now targeting what was really happening outside of her mind.

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The strokes of the paint brush flowed across Avalon's hand in tiny circles. Painting helped Avalon think, one of the few things that actually helped her think. It reminded her of District 8 because of the designs she used to create for many weaving patterns. She smiled to herself, looking content for once. The muddy mixture as a substitute for paint cracked above her hand as she flexed it, making it actually resemble dried dirt.

"District 8?"

Avalon whipped her head around, meeting the emerald eyes before her. Words tried to escape her throat, but it felt dry, reminding her of the dirt that lined her hand.

"What?" There was a pause. "Are you- a mute?" A smile was plastered onto the girl's face. She was quite beautiful, with flowing blond hair and a long, lanky body. Her full lips pursed into a frown as her eyes met Avalon's hand. "You think you'll win with some dainty painting skills?" The girl folded her arms. Avalon recognized her as the girl from the career pack earlier. Great, She thought, This is going to cause trouble. The blond girl gave a slight wink and turned away from her, wiping the braid across her back in a swishing motion. She whispered over her shoulder, "Good luck with that, District 8." The girl walked towards the rest of her group, who were now exchanging quiet chuckles of laughter. Avalon bit her lip, now forcefully grabbing the handle connected to the sink, washing her hand quickly. She eyed the girl who was smirking towards her. You're on my list first, weakling. Avalon imagined her saying. Vittorio stood there, punching his anger and frustation out on a punching bag, causing his knuckles to be bloody.

Avalon couldn't take this any longer. They were better than them.

She hurridly walked towards the throwing knife station. When she reached it, the silver blades rubbed against her skin, making a small opening of blood. Avalon observed it, now raising it to a normal position. I still have this in me. The targets above her stood still, waiting for her to throw. With a small flick of her wrist, the blade flew past her eyelids with a ripple of air, just like in the nightmare. Each hit was a success for Avalon when they pierced through the foam of the targets. She gave a slight smile and turned to the career girl who stood there, arms folded with a stern look across her face. Avalon couldn't believe what had just unfolded in the course of a few minutes. Had she really gotten the courage to do that?

Good luck, District 2.

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The elevator ride back to their quarters was awkward. Avalon hadn't muttered a word when she stood beside Vittorio. She avoided him, as he did, though she fretfully wanted to say in truth what she was feeling.

Would it ever happen?

Snippet #2133907

located in Panem, a part of The 70th Annual Hunger Games, one of the many universes on RPG.

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