Antigone's stomach curls in a ball as soon as she enters the training room. As if it isn't bad enough that she's late – if only her mentor Creon hadn't insisted on a slurred speech between the sips of Butterfly-brand vodka he'd been drinking at breakfast – but things are looking even worse due to the fact that the Careers are stationed right in front of her, wielding deadly weapons as if they were mere toys they'd been playing with most of their lives. Which, really, is about right.
This is bad.
Antigone shakes her head, shrugging off the slight fear that wraps itself around her throat and shortens her breathing. She can do this. Although she may not have trained like these brutes have, they still see her as a volunteer, a potential recruit. If she can look half-decent, she can do this. "Hello," she says, keeping her tone cool and distant, as if she was trying to be civil instead of being a potential recruit.
The girl simply shakes her head, glaring at Antigone with what could be nothing but envy at her beauty. Her district partner - the boy with the blue eyes - sends Antigone a flirtatious smile. The boy from Two makes a joke, though looks defeated when Antigone's face does not move from her usual emotionless mask. The third boy, who seems to be the leader of the pack, is the only one to be formal. He sticks out his hand, so the new arrival shakes it. "I'm Hyde. You're a volunteer, right?"
Not one for useless words, Antigone nods. "What's your specialty?" Hyde asks, and the girl's insides shrivel in panic.
"Double-edged sword," she says, then curses herself. Though this was the first weapon - the one her father used so often in front of her - she could think of, she can bet that it will be expected of her to show what she can do. Then it will be shown that she's lying to them, and not only will her chances of joining them vanish, she'll have angered them and will definitely become their first target.
Damn it.
Damn it.
Damn it.
Damn it.
"Well, show us," says Hyde, a calculating look in his eye, as if he already thought she was lying. He hands her the sword that the blue-eyes boy was wielding, and pulls out his own. Antigone shudders; she must think of a good lie, and she must think of one fast.
"The sword needs to be double-edged. The pain helps me focus."
Hyde glares and picks up a sword from the rack, sharpened on both sides, handleless. "That better?" he says, obviously not allowing any escape from this confrontation. Antigone nods, and Hyde charges at her, full-force. She clashes her weapon against his, a white blinding pain coursing through her as she tightens her grip on the weapon.
But then, she sees through the pain, and everything looks so much more defined.
"It's not about strength," her father had always said. "It's about technique."
Hopefully she'd picked up enough from him.
Jab left, swing right, jab right, cut up, slice down. Metal hits metal, and Hyde grunts in frustration at the challenge in front of him. Cut right, jab left, swing up, slice down, hit blade, twist, and...
Just as the sword is about to fly out of Hyde's hand, he pulls away and hangs up his sword. "Fine," he says. "Welcome to the team," the boy looks around, desperate for somebody to take out his anger on. "Pillar, we don't need you anymore. You can go."
As Pillar leaves, the blonde girl puts a hand on Antigone's shoulder.
"You have got to teach me how to do that."