ataraxionlogs | surround him, as he pounds a silver hammer, drops revolutionary grammar...

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surround him, as he pounds a silver hammer, drops revolutionary grammar...

CHARACTERS: Haymitch, Effie, Prim, and Kazama (aka the BATTLE HUNGER ROYALE GAMES cast)
LOCATION: A holodeck.
WARNINGS: Effie Trinket's got a knife, EVERYONE RUN. Also Haymitch is drinking. Always.
SUMMARY: Haymitch and Kazama team up to mentor Effie and Prim in the art of surviving a horror ship.
NOTES: PARTY POST. It's not all one thread, because that would be dumb. Just tag around, assume lessons have been learned. Throw knives. Etc.

Haymitch thought he was done mentoring. The war had ended and he had settled himself into a lovely state of not belonging anywhere, because the time of victors had ended, leaving nothing but Panem in a sorry state as it tried to rebuild itself.

And here he was, on this damned ship, knowing only one thing- he owed it to Katniss to keep Prim safe and he owed it to Effie to not let whatever happened to her while the revolution was still going on happen again. Neither of them knew their fates- Effie's less traumatic than Prim's- and he intended, in his own way, to prevent them from ever learning firsthand.

It was just easier said than done. Luckily, he had Kazama to demonstrate his object lessons, while he talked them through it. By the end of the lessons, he wasn't sure if any of it stuck, but that was what practice was for.

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[There are gouges and scratches all around a huge target on the wall -- more of them outside of it than inside. Across the room is Effie, regarding the knife in her hand like it personally insulted her taste in fashion.

Speaking of, her current outfit is relatively (relatively) more muted than her usual clothing. Really, it's almost normal by regular human being standards. Still, this doesn't stop her from donning a wig -- a green one that matches her training outfit.

But that isn't her focus now. She glares at the target, frustration evident on her face and her posture. Honestly, how difficult can hitting it be? Yet she's spent nearly an hour with Kazama and Haymitch giving her instruction after instruction, and she still hasn't managed to hit the target precisely.

She gives a sigh of annoyance before throwing the knife again, barely paying attention -- that is, until it hits the center of the target.

It's obviously a fluke, but that doesn't stop Effie from letting out a cry of delight and turning to the other occupants of the room with a huge smile on her face.]

Did everyone see that?

[Haymitch has to resist an eyeroll, because while they've been doing this for a very, very long time and she's entitled to her moment of glory, it doesn't really change the actual fact.]

Yeah, and the time it takes to be pleased with yourself is the time it takes for someone else to stab you in the back. [He really shouldn't be so hard on her, but all's fair when it comes the Games. And this is the sort of thing she's never had to be right in the thick of.

He retrieves the knife and brings it back to her.] The real trick's not even throwing it. If someone gets in range of you, what are you going to do?

[The glare she sends in his direction is almost practiced. It's easy to fall back into the same patterns -- snide remark, eye roll, admonition. Then, rinse and repeat. This may be a strange twist on their usual situation, but the routine is still in place.]

Attack, of course. [She says it like it's the simplest thing in the world.] Hopefully, it won't come to that.

It will. Attack how? [He flips the knife so the handle's facing her and holds it out to her.] Show me.

[She takes it gingerly, as if he's handing her the knife blade first.]

Aren't you supposed to teach me that? [But she does attempt a half-hearted jab in his general direction, careful not to have the pointy end anywhere actually near him.]

[He catches her wrist mid-motion.] Working on it. Move your feet apart like this. [He demonstrates, still holding her wrist.] And don't hold the knife like you're having afternoon tea. [He drops her wrist if only to manhandle her fingers into a stronger grip around the knife.] Like that. Got it so far?

[A frown mars her face -- she may be training now, but a part of herself doubts that she can actually pull this off when the time comes. It isn't like her to be cynical, but she's spent most of her life the spectator, never thinking that she'd find herself on the other side of the game.

Still, she imitates his stance, pulling back as she tightens her hold on the knife. Effie mirrors Haymitch well enough, but her posture is stiff, uncertain.]

How is that?

Loosen up. [He lets go of her hand and lays his on her shoulder, still studying her posture.] You're tense. I've seen you onstage, Effie- you're wound tighter than a spring when you don't get your way, but onstage, it's like nothing can hit you. Think of that. It makes it feel less real.

[His hand on her shoulder grounds her, and her limbs gradually loosen, losing their rigidity.]

This is a performance, then? [Her attempt at levity falls flat, and she covers it by holding out the knife, her knuckles white as her fingers grip the hilt tightly. It's harder to pretend something isn't real when it's her life that hangs in the balance.] Being on stage is a battle in its own way. I hate to say it, but there are times when I've relied on instinct and adrenaline to pull me through. I may also have to resort to them, in this case.

Edited 2013-06-28 07:23 (UTC)

What were Hunger Games but a TV Show? [He bares his teeth in an unpleasant grin, clearly annoyed with himself for that crack, now that there's no one around who cares if he gets annoyed.] That's all fighting is. Adrenaline. Instinct. Knowing how to knock your opponent off-balance. [He steps back around and throws out his arms.] Don't do what I expect. Dazzle me.

[She would run her fingers through her hair in frustration, if it wouldn't knock her wig askew. Effie is used to his barbs and snide remarks, but here they are all the more blatant, in a place where the Capitol's influence doesn't reach.]

Haymitch, you know I don't deal well with surprises. Dazzling someone requires preparation.

[It might be force of habit, but she may already be constructing a mental list of what he will and won't expect her to do.]

You've got maybe a three second window. [And she's lucky he's just understanding enough not to back her into a corner or embarrass her in front of Prim and Kazama. His patience has limits, but Effie won't learn anything if she's upset and feeling bullied.] Five if the other person is slow. Now would be a great time to learn how to improvise.

[Effie blinks, internalizing his words before wiping her face clean of emotion. She's never been good at that, hiding how she feels, but she can learn.

She takes a step forward, her movement obvious, then another, quicker this time. She thinks that Haymitch will expect her to use the knife, so she forgoes it. Her hand is still tight on its hilt, but she focuses on aiming a kick behind his knee. Effie has watched enough Games, has seen enough fights to the death to know that if it connects, he will lose his balance.]

[And Haymitch goes down.

Or, rather, he falls off balance and flails a hand out to grab for her- not to counter attack, but just to keep himself from falling. He straightens, taking his weight off of her before he knocks her down and bursts out laughing.] What's that? Is that Effie Trinket actually fighting like a tribute?

[She doesn't expect him to grab her arm so she stumbles -- righting herself with a huff as she glares at Haymitch's laughing form.]

And of course you find it amusing. [But the corners of her lips lift slightly, and it's obvious that she's proud of herself.]

Not every day I get to mentor a Capitol escort. [He backs off, still grinning like a maniac.] I think you're actually going to survive this.

[THAT IS A HIGH COMPLIMENT, EFFIE. TAKE IT.]

You think? I appreciate your faith in me, Haymitch.

[Her words lack any sting to them, and she even mirrors a bit of his grin back at him as she sheathes the knife.] I suppose I should thank you. I know this isn't exactly the way you wanted to spend your afternoon.

[Well, the relatively awkward-free moment was good while it lasted.]

[He wipes the back of his mouth with his hand.] You and Prim shouldn't have to be at risk, when you could've learned how to defend yourself. This is what I do. Only thing I know how to do anymore.

[Which is character growth for you, considering how many tributes he let walk into a slaughter, simply because he knew they'd never get out and there was no point in protecting them. They all survived a war- well, Prim didn't. And if he's going to protect her, he might as well extend the same to Effie, who should have been gotten out before things got too bad for her.]

That's not true. [But Effie lacks her usual conviction -- she's spent years watching him drink himself to oblivion, more often than not at the expense of teaching his tributes.

She continues talking, in an attempt to make both of them feel better.] You were more than just an instructor to Katniss and Peeta. Mentoring is so much more than that.

Glad you noticed. [His laugh is bitter, made all the more so by the fact that it didn't matter. He still had to make a lot of hard choices. He still couldn't protect those kids from anything. Peeta got caught and tortured. Katniss lost everything. And old Haymitch won his war by staying at the edge. Again.] But things have gotten a lot more complicated these days. I haven't figured out how to play these Games yet. All I know is we're getting out of it- the three of us.

Are you so certain we're in another version of the Games?

[Her doubt is brought about by two things:

1. She refuses to accept that she'd ever find herself on the other side of them, and;
2. Recognizing that this is Games 2.0 means she is a victim, and that she's spent years being part of a group that subjected children to this.]

You'd think whoever's responsible for bringing us here would have shown themselves by now.

I don't presume to know anything, but no harm in treating it like one. Survive better that way.

[Because he knows Games, he knows Gamemakers, and he knows revolutions. This being a little of all of it means he can work his way out of it on sheer cleverness.]

And when do the Gamemakers ever make an appearance in the middle of a Game, Effie? They watch. They bring the mutts in. They wait until there's a victor.

If we're truly in a Game, then what are we fighting for? What is the point of all of this?

[Effie is clearly growing uncomfortable with the topic, but she continues.]

The Gamemakers never hid their intentions -- the Hunger Games have a purpose. Here, we're just drifting without a clue as to the purpose of our presence on this ship.

[Unless the goal is entertainment. Which arguably is a big reason for the Games, but one that Effie will never admit.]

[He bites the inside of his cheek. Well, this was something he wanted to avoid bringing up in too much detail, but now might as well be a good a time as any. Especially if it might mean life or death.]

To get back at us.

[Confusion takes over her expression -- she's used to Haymitch not making sense, but she knows his mind is clear right now.]

We haven't done anything. They're the ones who brought us here against our will.

We beat the Capitol. [He just comes out with it, preferring not to beat around the bush any longer than necessary.] Ended the Games forever. That a good enough reason for this?

[Effie turns away, and it's obvious that she doesn't want to talk about this. She isn't ready for this conversation -- and it's possible that she never will be. There's a reason why she never brought it up again, after Haymitch touched on it on the day she arrived on the Tranquility.]

You surely can't be implying that the Capitol is doing all of this for the sake of revenge.

Makes as much sense as anything else. Doesn't explain everything, but it explains enough. And that's all I need.

[Because he doesn't want to get too deep into the problem elements of this. Maybe countless worlds have their own version of the Games and people aren't even aware of it. Kazama's does and he's a victor. Who even knows anymore?]

Don't get too paranoid, Haymitch. [If he starts telling her where to look for the cracks, she will look. And she won't be able to live in her bubble of willful ignorance anymore.]

You don't know what you're up against.

But I know who the enemy is. [He just needs the rest of the ship to see that.]

[Prim just isn't good at things like this. She wants to be, to make Effie and Haymitch feel more at ease, and to try and make her sister proud even though she isn't even here. But no matter how much effort she puts in, Prim's arms always feel like weak noodles and her hands just don't want to wrap around any sort of a weapon properly.

She's currently standing there in her old Reaping Day clothes, with the back of her shirt sticking out in a little tail. Across from her is a target, one that she isn't able to hit accurately with a knife, much to her dismay. Taking in a deep breath, she glances over at the knife that's laying across the room on the floor, and she reaches behind her to tuck her tail into her skirt.

She's hopeless.]

Katniss would be able to do this.

[But she's not Katniss, and so with a sigh, she heads over to pick up the knife and try again. Practice has to eventually make perfect, right?]

Katniss wasn't that good with a knife. [It's honest, not meant to make her feel better, because despite Prim being Prim, he's still inclined to be... Haymitch about everything. And he's tired and his alcohol is running low and it is a hopeless situation.]

The way people win at the Games is finding a weapon that suits them. If not a weapon- then a strategy. As long as you survive, it doesn't matter how you do it.

[She nods, knowing that what he says is the truth. Katniss explained this to her year after year when they watched the games air. It's common knowledge, but it still feels strange being applied to her.]

What's something smaller, easier to hold? [That knife sure is tiny, Prim. She frowns at it, shaking her head.]

I wish I had a direwolf like Bran and Robb. [It would make life easier, even if it's a childish thought.] Then I wouldn't have to worry about fighting myself, and I could keep everyone I care about safe.

Maysilee Donner used a blowgun. [He knows enough about Prim to know she likes plants and even if mentioning Maysilee makes his stomach twist painfully, he's numb to the sensation now.] She had these darts and dipped them in poisons she found in the arena. Might be good for you- keep you out of range of an attack. You don't even have to use deadly poisons. Enough to make them sick, put them down.

[He frowns a bit. He doesn't trust those direwolves- they're mutts, even if they're fairly normal looking. Just huge.] Big animals like that can go rabid if you're not careful.

[She nods, knowing that he's found a route that she'd be able to be decent at. She's not strong and not necessarily fast or agile, but she knows plants and how to use them to make others sick. She can heal, and she knows how to harm. She just prefers to not ever have to do the second.

She wants to say that she thinks his idea is a good one, but then Haymitch is insulting her friends, and her mouth forms a tight line.]

Summer and Grey Wind would never hurt me. Bran and Robb wouldn't let them. [She knows that other people are not as lucky, though.]

Not you, maybe. [He doesn't doubt the Starks have control of their mutts, but the fact is that it's easy to get threatened around here. Easier to get your throat ripped out because of it.] They get threatened and their mutts attack someone, it's going to raise a lot more problems than it solves. Hasn't happened yet, but it could.

I wouldn't let them hurt you.

[Yes, Haymitch. Tiny Prim who can't throw a knife will protect you from the direwolves. She understands his fear of them, so she doesn't press the issue further than that and just smiles up at him.]

You're someone that's important to me. [For helping Katniss, for helping her.]

[Haymitch grunts in reply. Yeah, the girl-child is going to protect him from the wolves. Right.

And he doesn't want to talk about how he's someone that's important to anyone, so he just shifts his weight from one foot and stares at the target.]

I'll see about making you some darts and a blowgun sometime. See if you like that better.

[Effie, on a break from her own training, decides to approach Prim. She hands the girl one of the two water bottles she's carrying, all the while giving her a sympathetic but encouraging look. At least, that's what she's going for.]

Katniss has been hunting all her life, dear. She didn't become so skilled at this in a day.

[Somehow, Prim has come to think of Effie as a caretaker, as someone that's motherly deep down underneath all of the makeup and wigs. Without the direct influence of the Capitol, Effie is someone Prim likes very much. She finds some reassurance in the woman's words, and offers her a smile.]

No, but she could have. She can do anything, I think.

[She takes the bottle of water and takes a moment to sip from it.]

You're doing really well. You should be proud of yourself.

Thank you, Primrose. [She beams at the compliment -- she did hit the target that one time, which totally counts as progress.]

And I do believe that your sister can do anything -- with practice. Just as you can. [A beat.] I definitely wouldn't have become the woman I am today without a lot of hard work and dedication.

[Effie's encouragement makes her smile a bit more broad. ]

We're lucky to have Haymitch as a teacher. He's more patient than I thought he'd be at this.

[Which is good, because between the two of them, she's sure he must be sneaking drinks out of a flask every 2-3 minutes.]

But how do you do it? Was it just luck, or is there something in particular you're doing?

He can be quite motivated when the situation calls for it. [She doesn't note that it happens rarely enough, and only when the threat of danger is present.

And Prim, of course it's skill and not just dumb luck. Of course.]

I've been practicing for a while. Once you get used to the technique, it becomes much simpler to hit the target. [Effie says it so matter-of-factly, so surely she must be correct.]

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surround him, as he pounds a silver hammer, drops revolutionary grammar...

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opennn come at her

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