cyprian huntwell

Glitter nodded once.  She knew the Academy weapons and the Tower weapons were two different caliber of weapon, but that didn’t change the fact that blaming the weapon for poor swordsmanship never flew with her.  “So you’re blaming the swords for being rusty?  It’s not their fault.”

“I’m rusty with these good Capitol swords,” he admitted. “But I guess it’s not entirely the swords. It might be a little bit me.” He grinned, bright and goofy, swinging it around a little playfully. He hoped to bring a little brightness to Glitter’s day: she’d been sullen for a while since the last Games. He’d had no idea that Kahente was as special to Glitter as she was, and he hadn’t really known how to approach her. Grief, thankfully, was not something he’d had to go through yet. “It can’t be that bad, right?” 

task one: the grand heist

Cyprian wouldn’t steal anything tangible. There isn’t any physical object he wants, anyways, he has anything he really could ever need, and Cyprian is the kind of man who would take a sunset over any kind of fancy artwork any day. What he wants, what he’d do anything for, is to keep Kelvin safe. 

He thinks about it while laying awake in bed, studying the patterns of his fiance’s face as he sleeps, thinks about the amount of dragons he’d slay or rivers he’d ford if it could offer Kelvin just a moment of respite in his maze of a mind. He can’t steal this from a vault, or pickpocket it from a random passerby. He has to build it from scratch. 

Nikola offered a shadow of a smile as she sat her coffee to the side again. “I think that you could do anything you put your mind to.” She nodded, eyes flicking to glance over the notebook in his lap. She had several notebooks of her own, littered with notes in a way only she could understand. “I won’t lie, it’s not an easy path to pursue, nor is it the shortest.” Nikola’s own degree having taken ten years as she pursued not only the masters degree in psychology, but the Doctorate of Pyshcology.  “But if it’s something you truly want, a passion you really can see yourself pursuing, then go for it.” She understood the need and want to help people. 

Cyprian grinned, looking down at the table a little as he thought. The more he thought about it, the more he realized it might be a really good idea. He was never the most book smart, but Kelvin was. He knew how to study. Cyprian could learn from him. “Thank you,” he replied. He fidgeted with the mug in his hands a little.

It was a long road, he knew, but it would be possible. He was still young, so he was in no rush to have his very own practice. He could intern, use his knowledge to help out everyone in the Tower, including Kelvin. “I’ve done some hard things before,” he admitted. “I think this might be... it might be right for me. I want to learn more. Not just for Kelvin, but for everyone.” Kelvin would be mentoring for the rest of his life, likely. And Cyprian would be by his side, maybe counseling tributes or Victors, helping them work through their problems every day. The thought of helping people in a different way then teaching them to wave a sword around delighted him. “I might be asking you a lot of questions. If I can even get in.” Cyprian pulled good grades back home, but never the academic prowess that Kelvin possessed. 

“I had an expensive education,” she explained in an off-hand way. Once she’d gotten a feel for the weight of the sword, she tossed it into one hand and looked down, giving her attire a quick once-over. “This sweater is cashmere, be gentle,” she warned, kicking off her heels and stepping onto the mat.

Lifting the sword vertically before her face in a typical fencing salute before moving it down to her side in one swift, delicate motion, she smiled encouragingly. “Okay, now what?” she asked excitedly.

Cyprian raised an eyebrow. “Pros, you never cease to be a surprise, you know that?” he asked, grinning as she chose her sword and stepped out of her heels. “Don’t worry, I know the value of a good sweater. I’ll leave it alone, promise.” 

He grinned at her enthusiasm and her little salute, mimicking it quickly before holding his sword as trained. “So I don’t know much about fencing, but with these swords, you want to focus on attacking but also on blocking. When I’m working with the kids at home, I like to go with a couple different stances.” He turned the sword a little, twisting his wrists to align the sword. “If you swing at me, this stance will keep me protected.” 

“Maybe they went to get food?  Or maybe they’re stealing from the Capitol floor or something?” she suggested.  “Though come to think of it I’m not sure what crimes they committed.  I didn’t ask them.  Did you?”  Maybe he had and that’s why he was concerned about theft.

He nodded. “You’re probably right. About the food thing. Hopefully not about the robbery thing, but that’s not our problem. If they start stealing things, it’s not our responsibility.” Cyprian shook his head in response. “No, I didn’t either. I probably should have, but I’m a little nervous of... offending them. Or something.”

“Amen to that.” He took a deep breath trying to block out the busy hustling of the training room knowing that it would soon make him itchy and anxious.Eyeing the stranger he shrugged his shoulders hoping the movement would make him a little more comfortable. “So, is it working so far?”

Cyprian shrugged back with a goofy smile. “I’m awake and functioning, so I’ll call it a success. I want to make sure I’m at my best, and even though the Capitol isn’t my very favourite place, waking up early tends to work at home.” He sighed. “Usually, I wake up early if the weather is good and go hiking. Sometimes I’ll drag Kelvin along with me. It’s so much easier to be up early when I have that to look forward to, but there’s not as many nice places to hike here.” 

Glitter had gone down to the training center both to blow off steam and to actually work with her tributes.  She had no intention of going into this Games with anything less than the potential to win.  The sooner the spotlight was off that good for nothing avox the better.  Still, when she walked into the training center and saw someone swinging a sword around she was amused.  Smirking slightly, Glitter watched him before approaching.

“Maybe mediocre swording would be more accurate,” Glitter replied with a slight shrug.  While swords were not her strong suit or preferred weapon, she was more skilled with them than most.”

Cyprian raised his eyebrows, letting the sword come down from its position to rest with its blade pointing to the floor, a safer position for a conversation, as Glitter would know. “You wouldn’t be the first with that opinion,” he commented, looking down at the tip of the sword poking into the mat with a little indentation. “Give me a break, I’m a little rusty. I haven’t used the swords here for six months, and the Academy ones are good, but not perfect. You’d know, right?” 

KyAnne nodded her head. That sounded about right. “That’s absolutely right.” She agreed. He was trying. She was trying. But that didn’t mean the tributes were trying. “Unfortunately I’ve noticed not many of Twelve’s tributes care to try.” Of course she’d get the rare gem that did care to try. Heck a decade ago they were coming down off a winning streak. Now she couldn’t get them to even care. “But it’s their lives, we can’t force them to try for anything.” Shrugging.

“I worried about that, when I heard they were bringing in... criminals.” The word didn’t feel right for the people he’d met thus far, for the warm vibes he had gotten from Osiris. “That they may have just given up, because maybe they don’t want to live a life as a Victor. Have they even specified if whoever wins will have their crimes pardoned?” he asked in a low voice, tilting his head with concern. “We can’t, you’re right. We can just be there.”

Nikola smiled softly as she watched the young man. “Absolutely.” She confirmed in agreement. It was crucial to not let someone suffering with PTSD delve to far into the delusion. She reached for her cup of coffee, sipping from it again. She was glad to hear Cyprian didn’t seem to be going anywhere, as if this little impromptu advice session wasn’t enough evidence of that fact. “That’s good to hear.” She commented, raising her coffee to her lips again. 

“Hmm?” She murmured into the hot liquid she was slowly sipping from when Cyprian spoke her name. She sighed, sitting the cup to the side again as she leaned forward in her chair. “Growing up I was always by myself, my parents had grand careers and I believe they only had me because it was expected of them.” She shrugged. “By the time Ni…” She paused, catching herself in a habit, “By the time I won, I was great at being detached from others, the one exception being my girlfriend at the time.” She was quiet for a moment. “But coming out of that arena, being detached from others didn’t help me face the demons in my own mind. I didn’t know how to be detached from myself, it had always been me, myself and I growing up.” She shrugged slightly. “I didn’t want to see a psychologist or psychiatrist, I didn’t want to talk to anyone about my problems and the one person who I did talk to, I drove away. I knew what made things go, how a hovercraft moved so easily through the air, but I didn’t know what made a mind go. I didn’t know how to help myself, but I wanted to. So I stopped mentoring and came to the Capitol to go to university. I taught myself to cope with my own PTSD by learning to teach others to cope.” Of course she wasn’t perfect at coping, as evidenced by her near slip up - a habit of speaking of herself in the third person when it came to her own games and those early years of victory. It was probably the most open about the reason behind her degree as she had ever been. 

Cyprian listened quietly, the thoughts in his head swirling and working together. Maybe this was what he was supposed to do. Not be a trainer. Not sit in the shadow of Kelvin while people tried to tell him that he wasn’t enough for him. Maybe he was supposed to take a path that would help him help not only Kelvin, but also the other people here he cared about who needed it. 

“You were already pretty smart beforehand, then,” Cyprian commented with a little smile. “Do you... do you think someone like me could be capable of doing that? Of going to school, of learning how to help people?” he asked, his eyes wide over the notebook he held in his lap, the tea forgotten on the coffee table in front of him. “I just... I know I don’t want to be a trainer forever. I’m not good enough at this to help people. But I think... maybe I could be okay at this. If I studied and focused and worked hard. Maybe this is something I could do, and it’d teach me even more how to help Kelvin. And others like him.” 

Vega had already been up to Twelve’s floor only to find the tributes weren’t even there.  When she got down to the training center she was a little disappointed that they weren’t with Cyprian.  She frowned, her nose scrunched up before he spoke.  “Morning, Cyprian,” Vega replied.  “Do you happen to know where our tributes ran off to?  I mean…they ween’t in their rooms.  I thought they might be down here with you but clearly I was wrong.”

Cyprian let the sword swing back and forth as he nodded his hello to Vega. Her comment shocked him, however, and he nearly dropped the sword in surprise. “Wait, they’re not in their rooms?” Cyprian asked, his eyes wide. “Shit, I was talking to KyAnne earlier, and she thought they were there too. And you’d know if they had fittings for the interview, which means we’re dealing with literal wanted fugitives.” He looked around the room, scanning it for the delinquents in question. “Hopefully they’re not robbing one of us. Or any of us.”

Proserpina rolled her eyes. “Cyprian, love, it’s too early in the morning for puns.” She took a sip from her water bottle and let her eyes rake over the sword rack nearby. “I haven’t done fencing in years,” she remarked. It wasn’t a lesson her father had insisted upon her studying as a child, as it had no practical application in their daily lives. Her Uncle Claudius, however, heralded it as a great way of staying in shape. And if agreeing to learn fencing with her uncle meant getting to jab at her cousin with something sharp and pointy, the young Proserpina was definitely interested.

“These are more… murder-y, aren’t they? Than fencing swords, I mean.” She set her water down on a bench and went over to pick one up, testing the weight in her hands experimentally. “Are the rules the same?” she asked, looking up at him curiously.

“Pros, darling, it’s never too early for puns.” Cyprian smiled, greeting Proserpina happily. He missed the girl since he changed Districts, and was thrilled to see her once again. “Fencing? I’m not familiar,” he admitted. “But I guess these are a little more ‘murder-y’, to adopt your terms.”

He watched Pros pick up the sword, surprised at how natural she looked holding one. “I don’t think swordfighting, in a Games sense, has any rules, other than don’t die. You know more about swords than I’d expect a stylist to. Once again, you never fail to surprise me.” He smiled a little, waving her onto the mats. “Want to give it a shot?” 

The morning had been long already. Her tributes had locked themselves away in their rooms, literally, and Trixanna was having nightmares again. Her head hurt. After getting Trixie calmed down again, and having called Persephone to check on Valkaryie once again, KyAnne had headed down to the training center. If her tributes didn’t want the help, perhaps someone there would. Instead of willing tributes, she found Cyprian, smiling through a yawn as she watched him practice with a sword. She chuckled softly at the joke he made. “Morning, kid. Couldn’t get the tributes out of their room either, hey?” 

Cyprian shook his head, running his fingers over the hilt of the sword. “No, they didn’t seem to be at all interested in attending training today. That’s not going to look great on me, but no one can say I’m not trying, right?” He shrugged, drumming against the sword’s handle again. KyAnne had been nothing but lovely since his demotion, and maybe being sent to Twelve had ended up being an alright scenario after all. Now that he got to spend time with her and with Vega more often than before. “They’re just not really into this, are they? Like they’ve already given up.” Cricket and Birch had both been up every morning, working hard, truly putting in their best effort. This was new to him.

Nowadays, it felt strange if Surya didn’t wake up early and do some sort of activity after she had a nice little breakfast and tea break. It was a nice change that she didn’t have to make a walk in the brisk morning cold to reach her usual gym but only had to take a trip down to the basement in a toasty elevator. It certainly helped with warming up once she was inside. She was distracted from her dynamic stretches when she spotted someone already working with the swords and she found herself drawn over to watch. She laughed at the pun and nodded back warmly. “A good way to greet the day,” she stated, motioning toward the sword. “I have to admit, I’ve never been very good with one. Daggers and spears, I learned that stuff pretty fast, but there’s something about swords that I can’t get. Would you care to share some tips?”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Cyprian smiled brightly at the mentor, waving her over as she spoke. Training was a favourite pasttime of Cyprian’s, but training with someone else was even better. “Of course. I’m straight out of the District Two Academy and ready with pointers. You can be my trial run before I start training tributes today,” he teased, giving his sword a couple sample swings to keep with his looseness. “What do you find difficult about them? Because for me, it’s all about momentum, that was the hardest thing to learn. About figuring out how your body works with the sword like a unit to make cool shit happen.” 

Nikola listened. Touching had never been something that helped her, she’d actually stabbed her girlfriend when she was still a teenager when the other girl had touched her shoulder. “That’s good, if that helps then that’s always something to keep in mind. Sometimes even just talking can bring episodes to an end, can convince someone that things aren’t what their mind is telling them.” It was along the same line of the music she relied on. 

“Usually asking those questions doesn’t result in off answers, but definitely correct him. Or ask him to take another look. Agreeing with the delusions would only reaffirm the disassociation which is not what you should be going with.” She was happy for Kelvin, though she didn’t know him, that he had someone who cared for him enough to stick it out. Not everyone was so lucky. “Just being there for him is good, Cyprian. Some partners find it too hard to stick around when things get hard, it’s great you’re willing to stay by him. With PTSD it’s a lot of trial and error. Figuring out what the triggers are, how to cope with the triggers,” Nikola, despite her preaching about disassociation, disassociated with her own games, “Sometimes as long as he’s not violent, it may just be better to let things play out, as painful as that may be. And know that things are tough for him too. Be as understanding as you can be without actually suffering the disease yourself.” 

“Like explaining,” Cyprian nodded. “Okay, I can keep doing that. To just make sure I’m keeping him here, and not where his mind is trying to go? That’s do-able. I can keep making sure I do that for him.” He listened closely, reaching down to his messenger bag at his feet to pull out a notebook and pen, which he used to quickly jot down some of the ideas and explanations from Nikola. “Don’t... reaffirm...” he murmured, scribbling his notes before nodding in agreement. 

Her words brought a sheepish smile to his face. “I can’t imagine my life without him. It’s hard, but at the end of the day he’s my whole heart. He’d do the same for me.” He took a few more notes, letting the information sink in. He felt like he’d be even a little more ready next time it happened, more confident in his ability to help. He paused for a moment, staring at the page. “Nikola?” he asked, looking up at the woman. “What made you decide to go into psychology?”

“Nice one.” Zephyr chuckled a little continuing to observe the training center to make sure that he could grab his tributes early enough for their next meeting, before they would saunter off again. He took the moment though to pay attention to the other man greeting back: “Good morning to you too though. I am afraid I can’t give you a pun back though.”

Cyprian laughed, weighing the sword carefully as he spoke to the escort. “Of course, that’s alright,” Cyprian agreed. “I’m not normally this quick this early but I’m trying this new thing for this year where I act like I really enjoy work mornings and hope that the rest follows.” In reality, Cyprian did like mornings, but he liked morning hikes with Kelvin to watch the sunrise. Capitol mornings, not as much.

She let out a soft chuckle, giving a nod in agreement. “Yes, the Games don’t afford much time to sleep.” Of course her insomnia had to do with more than just the current Games. She took the plastic lid off the cup once seated and sipped once more from it before sitting it on the side table. 

Nikola listened to Cyprian, giving a small nod. “I understand you wanting to preserve his privacy,” hell she shouldn’t be sitting here with Cyprian without Kelvin, but she was justifying it to herself so he didn’t need to know that, “however I can’t offer much advice without knowing what is going on. Is he hallucinating, having night terrors?” 

Cyprian nodded in agreement. “That is true. We all have to support each other here, right?” He smiled a little before it faltered when Nikola asked the question. “He has nightmares, yes, but it’s different than just hallucinations. It’s...” Cyprian paused. “It’s like he forgets where he is. Not just where he is, but when he is. Like he thinks he’s still in the Arena, or he thinks he’s in a different time. Like, last summer, I found him after Missy, his tribute, died. He thought I was one of his allies from his Arena, and then he was confused again, he thought that it was the 119th Games instead. He thought that he’d just seen Nolie die.” Cyprian took a sip of tea.

“It’s like he can’t quite walk right, like everything maybe is out of focus, and he knows what’s happening, but the details are off.” Cyprian ran a hand through his hair, letting it stick up a little. “I just don’t know what to do for him. I don’t know how I can help him, how I can keep him here with me, how I can help it end.”