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

[trinkett]

[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.]

Comments

[swordprincess]

Well, all right.

[The assurance seems enough for her, for now.]

[And finally, she'll take a bite from her granola bar. She frowns as she tests the taste, and then eventually, she smiles.]

Mmm...not bad.

[onlyeffie]

Isn't it good?

[Effie has discovered that, of all the prepackaged food she's been eating, granola bars are probably the best. Canned milk is the worst.]

I've found many varieties at the shop.

[swordprincess]

These can be convenient for traveling. I wish we had these where I come from...

[inyourfavor]

Must you travel a great deal for work? I do, as well. Though I'm provided for; the government gives me a special train that's loaded with all the best food. Anything anyone could want.

[And she finds herself missing that train lately. Its safety. Its familiarity.]

[swordprincess]

I travel to hone my skills...and to search for my brother.

[It's even worse not even being able to search for him...]

[inyourfavor]

Oh.

I'm sorry....is he lost?

[swordprincess]

No...he's been traveling the land, honing his own skills. I followed his path, because I wanted to be closer to him. He's been gone for a long time, and I...I just want to see him at least once more...

[happyhungergames]

Can't you just hone your skills at home?

[It would be so much more convenient, Effie thinks.]

[swordprincess]

[Maybe, but convenience isn't the goal here.]

No...you hone your skills by traveling, facing many opponents with many different disciplines. That's how you become stronger.

[happyhungergames]

[THIS Effie kind of understands. She knows, of course, that one's skills in Panem depend a great deal on which District one is born in, with those in the Capitol the freest to choose a destiny that suits them and President Snow.]

Your brother must be very strong now, then.

[swordprincess]

He is. I've been tracing the stories of how he enters the arena and cuts through opponents with ease. He greatly enjoys battle, and he always seeks out stronger opponents. The stronger the opponent, the better the battle.

[inyourfavor]

The arena...

[Maybe that isn't a topic she should be focused on right now. It's gotten her into enough trouble today already.]

Sort of like the Pokeymans?

[swordprincess]

..."Pokeymans?"

[Okay, you just lost her.]

[trinkett]

Those strange creatures that seem to inhabit this place. I've spoken to a trainer or two; they suggested that sometimes the Pokeymans fight in an arena.


No, no -- "battle" was the word they used. The Pokeymans battle. Although...I'm not certain they're using that in the strictest sense of grammatical correctness.

[Effie Trinket: Grammar Police to Pokemon Trainers.]

[swordprincess]

...No, they didn't fight creatures. They just fight other people...other warriors. Some competition for glory, as I understand it. Some are even foolish enough to die for it.

[onlyeffie]

A lot of people are foolish to die for a lot of things.

[Two rebels for every Capitol dweller.


Effie doesn't want to talk about this anymore.]

You should find more granola bars. In case, you know -- if you have to travel anywhere here.

[or if someone decides to threaten to poison your food.]

[swordprincess]

Hmm. I will certainly look into it.

But enough talk. We should probably get back to training.

[onlyeffie]

And here I was, just thinking of quitting.

[She sounds a WEE bit bitter in saying that. Training is horrible. She's sweaty and stinky and sick of the sight of practice dummies.]

[swordprincess]

Really? I just got here.

[But if Effie wants to quit, that's fine. Karla just moves over to the practice dummies, drawing her katana from its sheath. She glances at the blade before pointing it towards the dummy, testing its length. It's about an inch or two longer than her own sword, and perhaps a tad heavier.]

[trinkett]

Show me. How you do it.




Please?

[There, see? She's learning not to be so imperious.]

[swordprincess]

Well...this sword is different from what I'm used to. So I take a few practice strokes in the air to get used to its length and weight.

[And she demonstrates by slicing the air gracefully with the blade, horizontally, vertically, and diagonally.]

[ruthlessismore]

Sharpe made FUN of me for doing that!

[swordprincess]

[Karla faces her, quite shocked as she lowered the blade.]

...He did??

[What on earth for?]

[inyourfavor]

He told me to just jab it into my enemy.

[Truth be told she's not quite sure how Sharpe is at swordfighting. And she didn't reveal to Karla how lacklusterly her technique had been.]

[swordprincess]

Well, technically he's right. When facing an enemy, the goal is to cut them down as quickly as possible.

When you're just practicing, you can relax a little, but you still train as if you're fighting for real.