Katniss Everdeen (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
accidentalrebellion) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
exsiliumlogs2013-01-04 09:33 pm
accidentalrebellion) wrote in exsiliumlogs2013-01-04 09:33 pm
WE SHOULD ALL JUST TOTALLY STAB CAESAR
Date & Time: January 4, evening
Location: Training Facilities
Characters: Katniss Everdeen and YOU
Summary: Target practice.
Warnings: Uh, teenageangst anger. Mixed with arrows. Yep.
[They'd brought him here. No matter what they said, it was a move that was hardly random. It, and the way they'd left him here just long enough for her to start to become used to the idea, was a move designed only for one purpose. To deliberately demonstrate their extent of control over her and her life, to let her know how powerless she truly is.
Just like the Capitol. Maybe worse, in some ways.
One more thing to add to a growing list of everything that's infuriating, horrible, unforgivable about this place.
Wandering past the city, attempting to remove herself from their clutches as much as possible, had had its limits. She'd only found a wasteland, a far cry from anything that could provide for her. Nothing but ruins as far as the eye could see. No signs of life, much less anything she could possibly hunt.
There'd been no choice but to turn around and come back.
Since her return, there's only been one place to offer her any form of what one might call solace (even if such a statement would be a great exaggeration). The training facilities, oddly enough. Even if they continually remind her of the Capitol's, where she'd spent those days before her first Games and before the Quell, she can find something that gives her meaning, at least by having something concrete to shoot at. As she hits target after target, she can imagine her arrows are hitting choice faces. Snow. Coin. Haymitch. The guide who'd initially introduced her to Exsilium. Some faceless mystery she'd like to think represents the entire Initiative.
Her aim is consistently excellent.
Tonight is no exception. Like clockwork, she's here, running through a whole mass of arrows until she's satisfied. (Or isn't.) Intense concentration is etched into every line of her face, along with some form of muted but ever present fury, as she continues to absorb herself in the task at hand.
Better make sure you're not standing in the crossfire.]
Location: Training Facilities
Characters: Katniss Everdeen and YOU
Summary: Target practice.
Warnings: Uh, teenage
[They'd brought him here. No matter what they said, it was a move that was hardly random. It, and the way they'd left him here just long enough for her to start to become used to the idea, was a move designed only for one purpose. To deliberately demonstrate their extent of control over her and her life, to let her know how powerless she truly is.
Just like the Capitol. Maybe worse, in some ways.
One more thing to add to a growing list of everything that's infuriating, horrible, unforgivable about this place.
Wandering past the city, attempting to remove herself from their clutches as much as possible, had had its limits. She'd only found a wasteland, a far cry from anything that could provide for her. Nothing but ruins as far as the eye could see. No signs of life, much less anything she could possibly hunt.
There'd been no choice but to turn around and come back.
Since her return, there's only been one place to offer her any form of what one might call solace (even if such a statement would be a great exaggeration). The training facilities, oddly enough. Even if they continually remind her of the Capitol's, where she'd spent those days before her first Games and before the Quell, she can find something that gives her meaning, at least by having something concrete to shoot at. As she hits target after target, she can imagine her arrows are hitting choice faces. Snow. Coin. Haymitch. The guide who'd initially introduced her to Exsilium. Some faceless mystery she'd like to think represents the entire Initiative.
Her aim is consistently excellent.
Tonight is no exception. Like clockwork, she's here, running through a whole mass of arrows until she's satisfied. (Or isn't.) Intense concentration is etched into every line of her face, along with some form of muted but ever present fury, as she continues to absorb herself in the task at hand.
Better make sure you're not standing in the crossfire.]