I'm Up In The Woods

“Good job,” she said, a small, proud smile crossing her features. “The jaw is one of the best places to punch, if you can get to it and put enough power behind your movement. You might even be able to knock your opponent out with that one, but it’ll have to be a really good punch.” Luckily, Stellina mused, she wasn’t too tiny. Hopefully she’d be able to reach the faces of most of the tributes in the arena with her.

“The nose is also good. It doesn’t take much pressure to break a nose, and most people will be so caught up with all the blood that it’ll give you time to run away.” She shrugged. “Or go in for the kill, if that’s what you want.”

A smile spread across her face at the encouragement. Usually if a fight broke out in Seven, that was the first place a punch tended to be thrown. The fights were usually over something stupid, one of the lumberjacks getting into a heated argument with another or someone not liking how high they were being charged for something in the markets. Mostly it was just a drunken quarrel, other times, it was just heat of the moment. 

“Nose, too, okay,” she nodded. When a kill was mentioned, the smile faltered slightly from her face. She knew what she was in for as soon as her name was called, knew what she had to do when it came down to it. But Ashten still found it hard to stomach that reality: she was going to have to kill someone if she wanted to go home. She couldn’t run forever. “Is there... um, how would I...” she let out a breath, frustrated at herself for struggling with the question, “Say I can’t get my hands on a weapon. What would be the... best way to go for the kill?”

Oakley’s smile softened when the girl spoke.  “I don’t mind at all,” she told her.  “If you need any help or pointers with some of the survival stations feel free to ask.”  She really did want to help.  Tributes deserved to have a good chance no matter what district they were from.

“I’m Oakley by the way,” she introduced herself.  “Mentor for Eight.  And this is Everly,” she gestured to the dog.  

“Yeah, actually, that’d be great,” she replied with a smile. The idea of killing another Tribute was still hard for her to stomach, so focusing her skills on survival might help her ease back into the combat and even the weapon stations. “What stations are you best at?” She didn’t have a lot of time to learn, the quickest way to learn was to learn something Oakley was best at.

“I’m Ashten, District Seven,” Ashten looked toward the dog and smiled, “nice to meet both of you. How long have you had Everly for?”

“I have time,” Adriana assured her. “Besides, to be honest, tributes from District Four don’t always need much guidance on fighting.” If they came from the academy, they knew their way around a fight or any weapons she could show them. Her tributes were her priority, but Adriana wasn’t so cold hearted she would ever turn down a tribute that asked her for help.

She lead Ashten over to the mats. “Lets just do some basics? I mean do you know anything about fighting?” Tributes had various experience with fights and taking care of themselves. “I admit I don’t know much about how things are in District Seven.”

“Oh,” she nodded. She almost forgot District Four had an Academy as well; usually the Tributes seemed more laid back than the other Career Tributes did. Not that they weren’t deadly in their own right; Four had some pretty decent Victors as well, and this trainer seemed to know her stuff, too. Maybe knowing their fighting style would help Ashten in the long run if it came down to fighting one of the Tributes in the Arena.

Ashten shrugged, “I haven’t picked a ton of fights in Seven,” she replied, “I tend to avoid that when I can.” She relied on speed, mostly, especially if she had been the one snatching some fresh food while Huck was keeping the shop keeps occupied. And if they were caught, she would have to make a run for it. “So not a whole lot, honestly. If anything, it’s just the usual scrap here and there over something stupid.”

Briella shrugged because she didn’t really expect the girl to be great at it if she hadn’t used a bow before. Then again, there was no better way than to just dive in and see how it goes. “Deal. I’ll even go first if you want?” Briella was half tempted to use one of the lower settings so she looked better than she actually was. Though, the bow was her chosen weapon so she would never look horrible.

“Just remember, your arrow will go wherever your eyes are.” Briella told the girl as she handed over the bow and quiver to her.

“Sure,” she nodded, taking up the bow and quiver offered to her. It would be hard for her to get used to using a bow and arrow right off the bat, and she knew not many others would know how either. But she defaulted to humor when she was nervous. It was like a tic, she didn’t realize she did it until the jokes slipped from her mouth. 

They walked over to the simulator, Ashten standing aside and waiting for Briella to take her turn and show her how it was done. “How long did it take you to get this down?” she asked, mostly out of curiosity, and maybe to see how long it might take Ashten herself to figure it out.

She smiled, a hint of pride creeping into her voice as she said, “Good job.”

Keeping her own fist tight, she brought her other hand round to point to the first two knuckles with her finger. “You’ll want to hit your opponent with these two,” she explained. “Trust me, it’ll hurt you less and your opponent more.” She relaxed her hands.

“Okay, where do you think you should aim a punch on another person?” she asked.

She nodded, lifting up her own fists and glancing toward her knuckles. She never realized how much actually went into a punch, but then again, last time she threw one was when she was eleven and Birk was being a jerk. As much of a jerk as someone could be in the eyes of an eleven year old. 

“Um.. the face?” she asked, “like, the eye or jaw or somewhere.” Way to be confident in that answer, Ashten. She offered a small shrug for good measure.

“You say that as if this entire thing isn’t a risk. Sometimes you have to risk it to get the biscuit, you know? If you don’t take a chance it could very well be your undoing because you did nothing.” The only thing that Max wouldn’t risk is Briella. Anything else would be fair game. He would risk his reputation, his body, his life for Briella to make it out. 

His mouth kept on moving, like giving advice was his job - and very well nearly was, just advice on the body. He couldn’t help but keep this conversation flowing with the girl in front of him. It was almost - normal? 

“Wow, surrounded by brothers. I always wished I had a brother. Maybe an older one who could have smacked me when I made really dumb decisions,” he replied with a small smile. “I mean who can blame you at eleven for wanting to punch something? I don’t, hopefully they don’t either. I mean, how old are you seventeen or eighteen? That’s six years where you’ve been trying.”

“The whole thing is, I know my life’s on the line here, which is why I can’t just throw caution to the wind in some cases. I have a twenty-three in one chance to get back home. Odds aren’t exactly in my favor.” She was in one of the lower Districts, she wasn’t one of the Careers, she hadn’t even talked to any Sponsors yet-- her chances seemed low. Maybe she was overthinking it all, but Ashten knew she had to be careful about her risks. 

She let out a small huff and quipped, “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.” Birk didn’t hurt Ashten or Huck, he just scolded them when they did something dumb, which tended to be often when they were younger. “No, I love my brothers, even if they’re a pain in my ass sometimes. Kind of their jobs, right?”

“There must be. There’s a fancy way to do everything around here.” She’d spent the night following the tribute parade in her bedroom playing with all the remote controls. There was a bath with jets that massaged her feet and headphones to listen to music. (Though there were none of the rustic songs she’d grown up on in the playlist.) “Sitting, standing, eating, sneezing, smiling you name it and, according to my stylist, I’m doing it wrong.” 

She reached out a gently nudged Ashten’s wrist so that she could take a look. “Thumb over the knuckles, I figure that’s about right. I’ve only ever punch one person though so I’m no expert.”

Ashten rolled her eyes, “I haven’t heard the end of it yet from my own escort. Apparently I have weak posture.” Seven’s escort seemed to live to rag on Ashten for the way she sat, the way she ate, the way she spoke. It was irritating, to say the least, but most of the people in The Capitol had been annoying in their own ways. “She seems to thrive off of telling me everything I’m doing wrong. Pretty sure we’re all just a bunch of barbarians to them.”

She lifted her hands for Harper to look, immediately letting her fists go to adjust where her thumbs would lay across her knuckles, instead of wrapped in them. “I’ve punched my brothers when I was ten or eleven,” she shrugged, “don’t remember why, but they probably deserved it.”

Stellina looked down at the girl’s fist and frowned slightly. “Alright, you’re gonna want your thumb on the outside of your fingers there,” she advised, demonstrating by making a fist herself and showing it to her. “Otherwise you’re more likely to break your thumb. And trust me, you don’t want that.” She might not have broken her thumb before, but she’d broken a few fingers and she imagined it was similarly painful.

“Thumb curls round here, in front of your fingers,” she explained, twisting her first to give the girl a clearer view. “Now you try.”

“Oh.” She watched the woman and then unfurled her fist to do the same, stretching her thumb across her clenched fingers. “Yeah, wanna avoid that,” she murmured with a small chuckle. “I haven’t broken any fingers yet, but I’ve seen it happen to Birk. My older brother.” It had been an accident of course, and all Ashten remembered of that moment was trying not to let herself throw up at the sight.

She nodded, watching her fist and then held her own up, this time, with her thumb outside of her fingers. “Okay, think I got it.”

“Punches don’t just have to be for scaring people away or hurting them, you know?” he said, with a raised eyebrow. “A soft punch can be just as effective as a distraction,” he explained, realizing after that he was giving unsolicited advice. Not really a District Two move - at least he was pretty sure. He wasn’t sure if the guys who had come before were ones to teach. 

“I think if I punched my sisters they would be shocked and think I was an imposter,” he replied with a laugh. “I wouldn’t really be a good big brother if I tried to punch my two younger sisters - especially when one of them is only eight.” 

Ashten returned the raised brow, a bit skeptical of the advice. “I guess... but the weak punch could backfire. Could be a running risk for any distraction, honestly.” She was used to having Huck be the distraction for her, or vice versa, when it came to stealing from the markets back home for some fresh food. But this was a matter of life and death, and she had to remember, everyone could be an enemy. Which only perplexed her further as to why he was helping her.

“I have an older brother, a brother a year younger than me, and a kid brother,” she replied, “the kid brother just turned twelve.” This had been his first year in The Reaping. Ashten was nervous about his name being picked, though her relief was at the expense of another boy’s name being drawn. “I’ve been trying to be a better sister since my very short stint of throwing bad punches when I was eleven.”

Oakley shook her head.  “It’s fine,” she assured her.  It stopped bothering her a long time ago that people made assumptions about her.  “It’s just…life after the Games.”

A heavy sigh passed her lips and she smiled at her.  “Oh, I was just going to go sit for a bit.  I was doing first aid with some tributes and now I need to change it up.”  Maybe shelter making or cooking would be a good place to go next.

Life after The Games was built up to be something so glamorous and wonderful, something that was desired. But seeing the woman before her, relying on her dog’s harness just to stand, it painted a very different picture. One Ashten was familiar with; the darkness and horror of The Games was not lost on her. All she could do was offer a small nod, unsure of what else to really say to acknowledge Oakley’s current state.

“Mind if I walk with you?” she offered, “I was in hand-to-hand and one of the other combat stations, I think I need a breather, too.”

Adriana shrugged a bit. “Yeah, if you know where to put it. Hit the jaw in the right place and it’s lights out. Though…” She paused a moment. “There are a lot of strong bones in the face. Hit them wrong and you’ll break your hand.  It’s not the first place I’d recommend throwing a punch.” Adriana admitted to the tribute.

“Instead…” Adriana brought her own hands up in demonstration. “Short jabs to the abdomen,” she mocked punched the girl in the stomach. “Can deliver a hell of a kick too. The kidneys,” she motioned to the kidney area. “Can really knock a tribute down. A blow to the outside of a knee can blow out a knee.” Adriana looked at Ashten a moment. “Besides the first place people are going to protect is their face. A couple quick body jabs might be more effective.”

“Want to take a try with the dummy?”

It was the first place people would assume to punch, so it caught her off guard when the young woman told her otherwise. Brow furrowed, she tilted her head to the side slightly, curious. “Not the face,” she repeated slowly. But then the woman made a demonstration of throwing quick jabs toward her stomach.

Ashten tensed, but let herself relax when the punches fell short. She nodded, taking in everything the woman told her. Abdomen, maybe even a kick. Her gaze followed the woman’s movements, as if taking in multiple dance moves for a routine. Not that Ashten was a dancer at all. “Makes sense,” she agreed, considering the face had been the first spot she had assumed to hit. Basically, go for anything else.

“Sure, yeah.” she replied, “if you’ve got time. I don’t wanna take you away from training your kids.” She didn’t recognize the woman from anyone on Seven’s Team. But if she was willing to offer some pointers, then she’d gladly take them.

“Briella,” she told the girl with a smile. Of course Briella knew who she was, she had spent what felt like forever on the train studying the reapings, but they weren’t here to talk about that. Now she was curious how fast the girl would catch on. That was if she could even pull the arrow back. She remembered her first time with a bow, she was pretty sure the arrow went ten feet… Behind her.

She handed the girl an arrow. “Give it a shot. Sometimes the best way to learn something is to just dive in and see how it goes. Go from there?”

She remembered faces, mostly from the Parade and the Reapings, but the names she was still wrapping her head around. Based on where the Tributes went during Training had been a tell for her on what District they were from; most of the Careers went for the combat and weapon stations, while the other Tributes went where they were most comfortable. 

Ashten nodded, taking up the arrow. “Maybe we should head to the simulator. Less witnesses to how horrible I’m gonna be with this thing,” she teased, though she was sure she wasn’t going to nail her first shot. That and it was less likely for her to accidentally take someone’s eye out, or kill them.

TTWTASK: Paint Me Like One of Your Capitol Girls

She’d had her fill of edibles, of tracking, and of the ropes course. (The last of which had been rather embarrassing considering her lack of climbing skills.) She wanted to run her fingers over the smooth, metallic weapons but what use was it? No one needed training on how to use a spear, only on how to turn wielding it into an art.

She ended up by the mats, eyes sliding over Ashten as she warmed up. “Nothing fancy,” she said with a shrug. Her thoughts smoothed over the memory of her bruising up a local boy who couldn’t take no for a hint. “Thumb outside of fist and all but nothing else really.”

She was happy to see Harper, offering a small smile in greeting to the other girl. The night of the Parade had been filled with having information dumped on her as soon as she got off the chariot and then heading to the Seventh floor to get ready for bed to train the next morning. Not much room to get to talk to Harper, or anyone else, really. 

“There’s a fancy way to throw a punch?” she teased. Ashten shook out her hand slightly, hoping Harper didn’t notice that yes, she did have her fingers wrapped around her thumb and they could gloss right over that. She made another fist, this time as Harper told her, and she glanced at her, “Like this?”

Stellina was heading towards the canteen to grab some lunch when she heard the question. She wasn’t sure whether or not it was directed at her, but she figured she was more than qualified to give this girl a few pointers.

“Use your whole body,” she advised. “If you just throw your fist at someone, you’re not gonna have enough power behind it and they’re just gonna laugh at you.”

She started to head over towards the hand-to-hand station. “Make a fist for me,” she said as she grew closer.

“Explains a lot when I get in a fight with my older brother,” she quipped. But it was true; if Birk or sometimes even Huck made her mad enough, she would throw a punch at their shoulder or chest. Birk always laughed at her, her punches seemingly having little to no impact-- figuratively and literally. 

The woman had walked over to her and she glanced down at her own hands. She made a fist, wrapping her fingers around her thumb. “Like that?” she asked, looking back toward the woman. She had to be a trainer, she had the look and seemed to have the know-how. She was young, definitely not a Mentor otherwise Ashten would have seen her face everywhere.