trinkett: (wake up in strawberry fields)
Effie Trinket ([personal profile] trinkett) wrote2013-07-15 05:30 pm

Fifth Dispatch. Practice Makes Perfect, And Perfect is Me. Action.

[It's a hot afternoon, and Effie Trinket has sneaked into the Barracks -- first checking to make sure no one else is in there.

No one is.

It's far too hot and dusty and anyone in her right mind would choose the techy comforts of the Battle Dome over this place.

This is a good thing. Effie doesn't WANT to meet anyone today. For one thing, she feels very awkwardly dressed: running shorts and a bright yellow T-shirt (yellow is a Power Color); white athletic socks with that 1970s-era striping at the top; sneakers. No heels, no shoulder pads, no wig, no makeup.

She is here -- VERY GRUDGINGLY, MIND -- to train for warfare. Her last announcement to the village brought on plenty of warnings, and even a subtle death threat or two, and at least a few people giving well-meaning advice. She can hardly believe any of the doubters who'd said the Malnosso would sacrifice her in a battle, but better safe than sorry. One never knows when the higher-ups might make a clerical error or shifting error and accidentally send a valued subject into dire straits.

The second reason she doesn't particularly want to meet anyone is because she knows none of the Luceti peons like her very much. That's fine with Effie. Eventually the Malnosso will take her into the inner workings of the organization and place her right where she belongs. Until then? Well. She can and has been staying indoors a great deal, being a bored journal stalker.

Unfortunately, this lonesome round in the Barracks confirms that Ms. Trinket is not cut out for warfare at all. It turns into hesitant prods at practice dummies with wooden swords, a lot of staring out the windows, and a frustrating turn at a punching bag.

Fighting is horrible and she's horrible at it and consequently is in a horrible mood.]
greenjacketed: (♖ you tried to end mine)

[personal profile] greenjacketed 2013-07-16 10:53 am (UTC)(link)
"Conscription's no accident. Only a bloody insult."

Idly, he spun the wooden sword -- marvelling at how light it felt. How different it was from leather and steel.
onlyeffie: (no gasoline)

[personal profile] onlyeffie 2013-07-16 11:08 am (UTC)(link)
"Your chest is glistening!" she snapped, pushing a sweaty lock of hair out of her eyes as she went in for another round of bitch-slap the Everlast.
onlyeffie: (we used to be on fire)

[personal profile] onlyeffie 2013-07-16 11:10 am (UTC)(link)
An insult. She thought about that for a moment. Had the Malnosso directly tried to insult her? She'd only ever been helpful to them...
onlyeffie: (no gasoline)

[personal profile] onlyeffie 2013-07-16 11:11 am (UTC)(link)
I'm serious! I'm ALWAYS serious!

[She tosses the sword to the floor.]
onlyeffie: (I've changed the locks)

[personal profile] onlyeffie 2013-07-16 11:12 am (UTC)(link)
You'd....do that? Teach me how to teach him how to treat a lady?

[She's only shocked because everyone in Luceti hates her. That's all.]
onlyeffie: (I've changed the locks)

[personal profile] onlyeffie 2013-07-16 11:13 am (UTC)(link)
Hello!

[Effie's pooped. She wipes sweat from her forehead and reties her ponytail. Now is as good a time as any for a break.]

I'm just....trying things.
swordprincess: (Smile)

[personal profile] swordprincess 2013-07-16 11:19 am (UTC)(link)
I see.

[She steps a little farther into the area.]

How is it working out for you?
greenjacketed: (♖ i came and i was nothing)

[personal profile] greenjacketed 2013-07-16 11:19 am (UTC)(link)
"...Anyway, if you're so damned eager not end up someone's accident--" Huff. "You should get yerself a real blade."

Sharpe tossed aside the wooden sword; clearly it had been found wanting. Instead, he at along last dragged the heavy cavalry sabre from its scabbard's throat. The scrape of steel was harsh and unmistakeable. So, too, was his intention. He did not brandish the weapon, but allowed its point to fall against the floor. The sword itself was terribly plain, and it showed its scars from where Harper had reshaped the guard himself. Its original guard had been made for a man who would wear the sword while in saddle -- but it had been doomed to stick an infantryman in the ribs if he wore it while walking. So the sword was repurposed, and here it stood -- its back-blade ground down to a wicked edge that mirrored the front. It wasn't the point the sword was meant to have, but it was the point that Sharpe lied: a blade with two edges and a point that was symmetrical. The better to drive home and slice up and out of a Frechman's belly.

"If you're lookin' to learn anything, you ought to learn with the real thing. Not some child's toy."
onlyeffie: (will this never end?)

[personal profile] onlyeffie 2013-07-16 11:22 am (UTC)(link)
"Why are you doing this?"
onlyeffie: (we used to be on fire)

[personal profile] onlyeffie 2013-07-16 11:24 am (UTC)(link)
Oh, fine, fine!

[That is a total lie. Effie tries to very casually swing the heavy wooden practice blade over one shoulder, like casual swordswomen do.]

I was almost ready to stop and eat a prepackaged granola bar. Would YOU like a prepackaged granola bar?
greenjacketed: (♖ a socialite's death)

[personal profile] greenjacketed 2013-07-16 11:26 am (UTC)(link)
"...Death penalties cause problems."

Katniss had been unable to sing; while that had been tragic, it held no candle to the mischief Sokka's penalty had caused. Sharpe barely understood it, but he could at long last gleam that it had been something lost in death that had turned the lad into such an utter bastard. The hows and whys were unimportant. All he needed to know was that dying had been at the root of the problem, and that he did not want to invite more of those problems down on his household. His mismatched unit. He didn't dare think of the word family.

"And I don't care much for problems under m--our roof."
swordprincess: (Wandering)

[personal profile] swordprincess 2013-07-16 11:29 am (UTC)(link)
A what? What is a...prepackaged granola bar?
onlyeffie: (have I misplaced you?)

[personal profile] onlyeffie 2013-07-16 11:30 am (UTC)(link)
Which was why, she suspected, he didn't care for her. Like the rest of Luceti, Richard Sharpe saw her as a colossal problem.

Well, wouldn't they just feel terrible when the Malnosso finally exalted her and she had all the friends and influence in the world? Maybe then she would remember Major Richard Sharpe. Possibly.

She reached for his sword.

"So this will prevent me dying, then?"

Clearly she didn't believe it.
onlyeffie: (keys cut)

[personal profile] onlyeffie 2013-07-16 11:32 am (UTC)(link)
Here, let me find them! They're quite delicious! And very difficult to poison!

[She bends down to rummage through a plain black duffle bag that is lying nearby.]

I like the cherry ones.
swordprincess: (What)

[personal profile] swordprincess 2013-07-16 11:38 am (UTC)(link)
Poison? Who would poison them?

[Now she's not sure if she wants to eat anything anymore...]
greenjacketed: (♖ a man you knew was falling)

[personal profile] greenjacketed 2013-07-16 11:38 am (UTC)(link)
"Not this one," he chuckled coolly but leaned the hilt into her palm all the same. "Damned big for a lass like you, I'd say."

Hell, it was almost too big for Sharpe. The scabbard slings had been shortened so the guard's handle sat at the bottom of his left rib-cage, rather than at his waist. Sharpe remembered the first day he'd held the sword -- still healing near Salamanca -- and he'd barely been able to lift it, he was still so weak from his wounds.

He stepped back, happily giving her a wide berth so that give the blade a try. It was poorly balanced to begin with -- no luxury steel to be seen. But it had been made with devotion and friendship and maybe just a little Celtic magic. And in homage to the perfectionist in Harper, Sharpe kept the top seven inches razor sharp. It was a butcher's sword and it was clumsy, but it had never failed him.
onlyeffie: (into your glove box heart)

[personal profile] onlyeffie 2013-07-16 11:42 am (UTC)(link)
She tried to lift it with one hand. Nope. Two hands on the hilt earned her the satisfaction of seeing the tip rise off the floor with some trouble.

Effie would have to reach further down to get the leverage necessary to actually lift the sword to a useful stabby slashy height.

She grabbed hold of the nearest bit of blade, to lift, and dropped the whole thing unceremoniously in the sawdust.


"OH!"
greenjacketed: (♖ give me hope in silence)

[personal profile] greenjacketed 2013-07-16 11:46 am (UTC)(link)
Although he sorely wanted to, Sharpe didn't laugh.

"You'd be better served by a light sabre, if it's truly a sword you're after--" Because now he didn't half wonder if the woman might be served by some better fail-safe, if all she wanted to do was not die.
Edited 2013-07-16 11:47 (UTC)
onlyeffie: (have we lost our minds?)

[personal profile] onlyeffie 2013-07-16 11:52 am (UTC)(link)
"I'm better at the swinging bag."

A thin red line welled up on her palm; alarmed, she shoved her hand into her pocket.

"The wooden sword was just here. Hanging on the wall." There were spears, too, but Effie had found them too big and clumsy. The things that looked like axes she hadn't even wanted to look at.
greenjacketed: (♖ you're a dead man obidiah)

[personal profile] greenjacketed 2013-07-16 11:55 am (UTC)(link)
...Sharpe wasn't even certain what the swinging bag was. But he didn't want to admit so, not when he'd set himself up as a kind of expert in the field. Instead, he asked: "Can you aim?"

And he stooped to retrieve his sword, pretending as though he didn't see the way she hid her hand.
happyhungergames: (my sweater is on backwards)

[personal profile] happyhungergames 2013-07-16 11:55 am (UTC)(link)
Oh, you know. People. There are many unsavory types in this place.

[She pulled free a cherry-dark chocolate granola bar.]

I have these, and I also have a few peanut butter ones. Which are also good...
onlyeffie: (nothing's free)

[personal profile] onlyeffie 2013-07-16 11:56 am (UTC)(link)
Could she aim? Effie had never tried.

"Everyone can aim!" she retorted as she backed away toward the punching bag hanging in the corner. She'd show Richard Sharpe what she was capable of.

"You just point."
greenjacketed: (♖ wash over me)

[personal profile] greenjacketed 2013-07-16 11:59 am (UTC)(link)
A slight scoffing sound -- though, if he was truly honest, Dan Hagman had muttered something similar. Once, when pressed about his unnatural accuracy with a rifle: it's just a matter of pointing and shooting, sir. The men had laughed. Sharpe had laughed, too.

"With a gun, Miss Trinket. Can you aim a gun?" But his tone dropped, because now he was curiously watching what on Earth it was she was doing.
ruthlessismore: (You are the town)

[personal profile] ruthlessismore 2013-07-16 12:01 pm (UTC)(link)
"Guns are so vulgar."

She began to slap the bag. SLAP it. Like a naughty schoolboy.

The bag swung away a little bit; then it swung back and she ducked out of the way and slapped it some more.
greenjacketed: (♖ for those who volunteer to come)

[personal profile] greenjacketed 2013-07-16 12:03 pm (UTC)(link)
Well, Christ. Now he couldn't help but laugh -- loud and deep and from the belly, which still stung from her sucker hit with the wooden stick. He winced and laid an arm across his stomach.

"A bullet is damned tidy when compared to a sword. Or, I should add, yer fists."

Because a man who'd been pulverized to death? Aye, that looked mighty vulgar.

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