memories come in waves •°

With the excitement of the evening still at play -- a dull echo of execution and other atrocities -- Kaiko had found few people were in the mood for warm welcomes or new introductions. How could he blame them? To see violence was to reckon with it within one's self, to make space for it in between organs and within bone's marrow. Kaiko felt swollen with it. A heavy weight: the accumulation of an education one should never learn.

Ashton wrapped his arms around him, though he'd been cautious of the moment, Kai was still his student for a time. And of course, he was happy to see him, even under odd circumstances. He patted his back once or twice before pulling away. His hand lingered on his shoulder for a moment.

"Of course I feel responsible," Everett said defensively, a harsh tone in his voice that he didn't necessarily intend to be there. Ash meant well, of course, but Everett's strengths had never been in the emotional realm. "And I am trying. They need me, all three of them, and they have me. I'm working damn hard. I'm selling it like they're competing, you know, sponsors can bet one which Brick they think is most likely to win, that kind of thing. It's all disgusting, but it's a plan. It's my plan. That's what I'm doing, that's what I'm best at." And he didn't even know if he thought he was very good at it. It was what he'd been doing for a few years with one success and a lot of failures.

He parted his lips when he heard Everett's tone shift. "Ev, that's not how I-- I wasn't trying to say you didn't, or you aren't. I was just thinking out loud." Ashton reached out his hand to him as he finished talking, his palm up-- knuckles sliding across the countertop-- offering to be held. It was a good plan, disgusting, yeah, but it was smart.

Mason enjoyed being on the rooftop alone. Snow was one of his favorites things so if he had any free time in the tower he would spend it on the roof watching the snow drop around him. It was therapeutic to him and made him feel better after a long, stressful day. He was then brought out of his thoughts when he heard a familiar voice speaking to him.

"Well--" Ash took a deep breath, looking out at the city-- watching the steam of his breath dissipate like cigarette smoke-- before looking back at Mason. He didn't know where to start with a question like that. Especially here, "there are people, in and around the Games, that are good to you for their benefit. People who want to take advantage of you." Mason wasn't like many careers he met, and while he found it incredibly refreshing, Ash wondered how Mason had managed so long with such innocence.

"Uh." Her eyes looked up and down the wooden staff. It was taller than her and it looked heavy to boot. River didn't have the slightest clue on what to do with it, hadn't even known that it was a weapon, but the man's offer--which she supposed was kind, considering he was not part of her team--had caught her by surprise while she had been circling the training centre aimlessly. Her hand reluctantly reached out to grip the staff. "The hell are you even supposed to do with something like this?"

He held the staff in his hand, taking a moment to feel its weight. It was lighter than he had expected, solid throughout, and with no notable balance point. He took a few practice swings, holding it like a baseball bat. "Sounds good," he said, glad for the help.

"Courtney," he repeated to commit it to memory. "I'm Ashton." There was a thought to say 'Ash' instead or not introduce himself at all. "I do," Ash offered a sad smile, his eyebrows knitting closer together. "Determination is a big part of it." So were chance and other outside influences, but he was sure Greer told him more than enough.

Caspian scoffed. "No chance. She's a rogue volunteer, not ready for the big leagues, and it's not my fault she was stupid. I'm not going to align myself with her, I'm stronger on my own. If I wanted someone watching my back, I would find someone -- but if someone's watching your back, they can see you're holding a knife behind it."

"Honestly, I have no idea," he admitted. He had been trying to avoid a heart-to-heart with Miller, as it was so out of his element. "I know I should try to be there for him, but... I mean, you know me. That's not really my thing." Family drama was enough when it was his own family; and even then, he usually avoided it.

Ash couldn't blame him; he didn't doubt it'd be a difficult conversation to have. "Shit puts us to the test, you know?" He paused, "but sometimes I think we're better for it." Better than they were yesterday, better than they were in the weeks after they'd won their games. But he saw it as an act of repentance that others may not have, deeply ashamed of what he'd done. "...it's the effort that counts."

It was hard to decide where to go in the Training Arena. Did you stick to something you felt confident in, so as to scare others off? Did you go to something new, at the risk of showing off a weakness? Did you go to a popular station, since clearly everyone saw value in it?

"It's versatile... you can block, disarm, hit, create distance, even sharpen the end into a spear." Ash grabbed another staff for himself before nodding toward the mats. Of all weapons, he thought any kind of staff was best to learn, efficient and relatively beginner friendly. "It's all in how you use it. I'll show you some stances, take you through some steps. It's kind of intuitive once you get the hang of it." Ashton glanced over at him while they walked, catching the Ten on his sleeve. If he wasn't wearing the tribute uniform, he could've mistaken him for a new trainer. "What's your name, Ten?"

"You're not crawling under my blankets, right?" Rio snorted. "Ash, we're not that close. Take me to dinner first, then I'll think about it." The only option for Rio was to do fine. That was the basic settings he operated on. At best, he ran on comfortable numbness; at worst, it was anger and cruelty he was fueled by. Ash had caught him on one of his better days. Caspian was better than Spela and Axel combined, he wasn't that worried.

"Not in your dreams, Odair." Ash retorted, shaking his head and squinting with a semblance of a chuckle. What Rio said confused him more than anything, unsure why he decided to go there instead of answering his question. "Maybe if I wasn't already invited to your parents dinner parties." -- If he wasn't closer to Finnick and Annie than he was to Rio. -- He'd had a hand in training Rio since he was 15, or roughly around there, he was still trying to see him as a friend rather than a student. He couldn't imagine anything else.

It was somehow a harder question to answer. Everett found being genuine difficult, and when others were genuine with him, he was simultaneously distrustful and unsure what to do with it. But Ashton was a true friend, and he offered him a very slight smile in return. "Thanks," he said. "I appreciate it. It's... it's really a shit situation. I've got both brothers saying they'll die, and I don't really know what to do with that. I want one of them to win, at the very least, but I'm not sure if they have it in them to watch the other die. You know?" He had seen friends die in the Arenas, people he'd known for a few weeks, and it had been nearly impossible to handle. He couldn't imagine it with his siblings.

Ash could only nod at Ev's analysis of the situation. It sounded almost impossible. At least both the Atlantica sisters had gone in with the mindset of winning, even if they'd lost. They didn't really know what they'd do if the other died but were prepared to ignore the reality until it happened. Not that he could judge them for it, he couldn't begin to imagine Cleo (his sister) in the arena. He rubbed at the side of his neck to self-soothe. "Yeah."

Lex almost wanted to laugh at the offer. Not with malicious intent, or mockingly, but out of surprise. It rarely happened that a trainer or mentor even vaguely challenged him to try out anything during training. He was only passing by, one short walk through the center on his way somewhere else. "I did not think your resentment for Gamemakers extends to potentially humiliate by making them demonstrate their skills. Existing or non-existent."

"No, I uh..." Ashton chuckled uneasily—an embarrassed blush creeping up his neck and onto his face. It was visible in the tank top he wore. He set the end of the staff on the floor to lean on it. Offering a sparring session to Lex wasn't something Ash thought through. Still, he tried to recover with a sheepish grin. "You don't have any training from your career days left in you?" He did have to admit he was curious. "I'll go easy on you; let you warm up first. Who knows, maybe you'll beat my ass."

"Of course I'll be ready," Caspian snapped, annoyed that Ashton would even say as much. The thought that he was in any way unprepared for what he was facing was just insulting. He'd been preparing for this for ten years. "Well, Alecta is in charge of Cyril, I know that much," he said. "So the power is hers there. The Bricks will likely have each other's backs as well. So I'm the odd man out, since we all know my dear partner's not gonna make the cut." He rolled his eyes. "But that's an advantage, in my view. I don't have to worry about feelings or looking out for anyone but myself. I'm not watching anyone else's back in there."

Ashton rose an eyebrow when Cas snapped. He didn't think he said anything to take issue with. He sighed, stretching as he sat forward on the couch. "However you thought I meant that... I don't doubt your abilities, you've worked hard to get here." --'Harder than most in the academy.' To others he might've said it with some amount of bite, but he meant it genuinely here. Doing what Cas did for the sake of the hunger games dumbfounded him, and while he wouldn't pretend to understand, Ash did have some respect for it. "I'm just worried." Maybe it was just the past couple days, maybe he was still jumpy about career packs from his own games, but something didn't sit right with him.