sitting-on-the-bottom

[sitting-on-the-bottom]

If there is anything Pyxis Flannan was, head riddled with confusing thoughts and brain slowly failing her, it was a survivor. Into the arena she had gone, but she had come out. Every day she tempted the waves, and yet never had the claimed her - even when sometimes she had tempted them to by sitting on the bottom and letting the light refract over her.

When the world started shifting in front of her, she knew it was like moments before the sea decided to kick up waves of such anger it could sweep you away. Much like she did when the weather turned out on the waves, Pyxis had reacted much the same - she ran back to safe harbor, docking among her family to weather a storm. Some may call is cowardice. Who flees a fight? As far as Pyxis was concerned, however, she had given enough of herself to Panem. They did not deserve to make her a martyr as well. The Vox had started their overthrow, and quiet as a current, Pyxis had returned to Four and her cottage by the sea. Her dinners with her family. And since now her headaches had at least been tamed by illicit substances (first supplied in the Capitol, sure, but it was amazing how connected a fisherman could be) she could make her way back to the bottom of the sea.

It was a strategy that worked, too. The new order had sorted itself out, and she had continued to work. It was not as if she resisted - she swore her allegiance to the new order, because at the end of the day it was true that the Flannans and Pyx herself did not care who was in power so long as they could have each other and continue to be one with the seas they had loved for so many years.

_ _ _ _ _

But then. Oh, but then.

Was that not how happy stories always ended. They lived happier every after . . . but then.

As barbaric as the games and Panem was, at least the rarely brought the violence to her home. No, you went and killed people in a new location. Pyx had learned that this perception was of course one that was unique to her and some from other districts in her time in the Capitol. Twelve had the violence brought to them, as had Seven and some others. Panem against their own, Four missing a good chunk of the violence. The redhead had remained ready, of course. If the violence had come to her door, it would have been met with a hunting knife and a group of fishermen ready to rage.

At the end of the day though, it was not Panem or the Vox that had come to her door. Not even Snow, who she did have a sick pleasure in watching get shot. Served that family well, for the hell they had put them through.

No, it was people who didn't know the sea at all but now wanted to claim it. Tribes from the brutal north of the continent, presuming the could fill a vacuum that the Vox had left open. It was then Pyx had started to move again, to remember who she had been before the stagnation of her flight to safe waters. Once again, she strapped a dive knife to her leg just to walk about. The world had changed, and nothing would be the same. But this time, it had come to her, and was trying to take the sea.

That? Now that was unacceptable.

[sitting-on-the-bottom]

"Sometimes, yeah," she answered, a wistful look coming over her face. "But most of the time it was to find oysters. They live on the bottom of the ocean in the rocks, so you have to swim down to get them. We put weights on, too, to help us get down faster. So when it's time to come up, you have to fight against them too. Not so much that they drag you down, but if you didn't have them on it would be hard to stay near the bottom. Although some of us also liked to jump in with a nice rock. Just tugs you right down," she said with a borderline feral smile. That kind of diving was rarely for oysters and almost always for the young swimming to get their kicks trying to go as deep as possible as fast as they can.

Nodding to his answer though, she brought her always fleeting focus to look at Alder's shoulders. The trainer in her came out as she narrowed her eyes, as if trying to see each muscle under his skin. "Alright, here is what we're going to do. We're going to try to get you a little stretched out today, ease that tension so its not living in your upper back. Come sit on the mat with me, and I'll show you how its done."

Taking her own arm, Pyxis pulled it up over her head, allowing a small bend to go with it so her body formed a shallow crescent. Trying to release her shoulders was always a pain due to years of stress on them from diving and work.

"I get that," was her reply with a smile as she slowly deepened the crescent, "when I was in the Academy we had a gym, but it was nothing like this, and my classmates tended to monopolize it." They had actually wanted to volunteer, unlike her, so they got preference. "I tended to get most of my exercise in by diving. Only started really going to the gym frequently when I started working here more, and its honestly because the pool here is absolute garbage compared to the ocean."

Following his eyes to the machines, which she did agree looked daunting and like they would be used to extract a confession rather than a good sweat, her smile broke a little bigger. "I mean, some of them probably are. They've certainly left me feeling more sore than even a hard day of fishing does." Turning her eyes back to Alder, she let her gaze drift over him for a moment, looking like she was trying to sus out any potential weakness. After a second, she asked in a rather blunt fashion, "which part of you gets the most stiff. Like you wake up in the morning and stretch and you just can feel it coiled not wanting to let go of the muscle."

[sitting-on-the-bottom]

"I absolutely drink coffee," was her response, flagging down a waitress with the motion for a mug. "Helps me stay awake, otherwise I'd be falling asleep all over the place." He didn't know why that was such a fear for her, why falling asleep vulnerable was a risk she just was not willing to take anymore. "Probably also why I take it black," she said as an afterthought, answering his question as she scanned over the menu.

After a few seconds, she thwacked it down on the table. "Alright, what's good here?" Before he could get his answer to her, she felt her phone buzz. Normally she'd say fuck it and not check, but with the games starting and two tributes in the arena, she didn't have that luxury at the moment. Although a quick scan of the text message -- and automatic update when a tributes tracker had been deactivated -- made her frown.

With a sigh, she put the phone on the table between them, spinning it so Mahlon could see the text written across the screen. "Well, thats that I guess."

A rather undignified snort came out of Pyxis at his response, "rather boring if all you can thing to do to waste time is give yourself a tug. Can't ask your girlfriend for help with that?" she shot because easily, looking around for a light jacket to fight off any residual chill. Shrugging it over her shoulders, she waited a minute before answering him.

"No, not now," she said, clearly having thought about it, "whatever it is, its working for now. And yeah, its really just a headache . . . well, a migraine sometimes. And all that comes with that, the puking, the dizziness," Pyxis explained. "Haven't had one of those in a hot minute though, so no worries."

Grabbing her purse where it was slung over the back of a chair, she finally gave her more undivided -- but clearly impatient -- attention back to her guest. "Ha!" was her response at his offer, before grabbing the door handle, "as tempting as it is sometimes McCreary, then who would get pancakes with me. Come on, lets go, I am absolutely starving."

[sitting-on-the-bottom]

Jiggling her foot as she looked out over the city skyline, Pyxis gave a soft hum in response at first, taking another swig of the whiskey. It was something she had just grabbed at some point, sitting almost forgotten in her personal rooms, and so it fought as it burned down her throat making her cough slightly.

"No, we couldn't have done anything," was her response. Frank. Honest. "Especially during the bloodbath. Even the best trained tributes get lost in that mess. The best prepared. Let your guard down for even a second and that is all it takes then." Another swig. "Then again, what do I know. My track record of bringing folks back isn't all that great is it?" Coral was one of the few, and even then Pyxis was still a fledgling victor who had been set back do to the constant headaches that had plagued her the first few years after her own victory.

Finding Coral up here was pretty normal. Once Pyxis had gotten the text notifications over breakfast, updates about the quick demise of both of Four's tributes, she had a pretty good guess where the young woman would be. What she was unsure about is what part of the evening they would have made it to - just staring off into the distance or actually doing something about it and cracking a bottle of liquor.

Two bottles of the aforementioned solution were clutched in Pyxis's hand by the neck, the sound of them clinking against each other deafening on the roof. Walking over to where Coral sat, Pyxis plunked the two handles down in front of her, as she sat down close enough to brush their shoulders. Noting that Coral had already brought her own supplies, Pyxis reached for one of the ones she brought full of amber liquid.

"No, no it does not," she answered with a sigh, flicking the cap off her bottle and taking a hefty swig, grimacing a little at the burn. "See you got a head start," she said, indicating Coral's bottle.

[sitting-on-the-bottom]

A rather undignified snort came out of Pyxis at his response, "rather boring if all you can thing to do to waste time is give yourself a tug. Can't ask your girlfriend for help with that?" she shot because easily, looking around for a light jacket to fight off any residual chill. Shrugging it over her shoulders, she waited a minute before answering him.

"No, not now," she said, clearly having thought about it, "whatever it is, its working for now. And yeah, its really just a headache . . . well, a migraine sometimes. And all that comes with that, the puking, the dizziness," Pyxis explained. "Haven't had one of those in a hot minute though, so no worries."

Grabbing her purse where it was slung over the back of a chair, she finally gave her more undivided -- but clearly impatient -- attention back to her guest. "Ha!" was her response at his offer, before grabbing the door handle, "as tempting as it is sometimes McCreary, then who would get pancakes with me. Come on, lets go, I am absolutely starving."

True to her word, she whisked out of the room only a few moments later, changed into clothes that were likely much more acceptable for the public than her loose pajama pants. Eyes focusing on where Mahlon was, she raised an eyebrow at him as she saw him poking around. "Didn't anyone ever teach you not to snoop?" she asked, although there was a distinct lack of bite to the words. With an ease, Pyx took her still riotous hair and spun it several times until it could be gathered and clipped on the top of her head. It still looked like someone who had not gotten much rest, but at least it seemed purposeful now.

Grabbing the coffee mug from where it had sat abandoned, she eyed it for a moment before slugging back the rest of its contents, wincing slightly as she did so -- whether from the bitterness or the fact that it had gone cold. "Dosage has been fine," she answered his question as she continued to rustle about, collecting herself. "I take a full one now instead of the half, makes it more bearable. Doesn't really keep them at bay, more just . . . dampers them down when I get one."

Finally turning to get a good look at Mahlon now that her chaotic preparation to leave was done, Pyxis caught a glance of his eye. Snorting a laugh, she pointed to her own to indicate what she was talking about when she asked, "nice face, walk into a door or piss someone off?"

[sitting-on-the-bottom]

Finding Coral up here was pretty normal. Once Pyxis had gotten the text notifications over breakfast, updates about the quick demise of both of Four's tributes, she had a pretty good guess where the young woman would be. What she was unsure about is what part of the evening they would have made it to - just staring off into the distance or actually doing something about it and cracking a bottle of liquor.

Two bottles of the aforementioned solution were clutched in Pyxis's hand by the neck, the sound of them clinking against each other deafening on the roof. Walking over to where Coral sat, Pyxis plunked the two handles down in front of her, as she sat down close enough to brush their shoulders. Noting that Coral had already brought her own supplies, Pyxis reached for one of the ones she brought full of amber liquid.

"No, no it does not," she answered with a sigh, flicking the cap off her bottle and taking a hefty swig, grimacing a little at the burn. "See you got a head start," she said, indicating Coral's bottle.

Spending so much time in the capitol over the years proved to be efficient when she needed a place to escape. Somewhere where she didn't have cameras and microphones following her around. Maintaining the persona could be exhausting. Of course she'd been gutted when she saw both her tributes not make it past the bloodbath, blaming herself for not doing more. She had been working tirelessly to gather sponsorships for them and yet her efforts proved to be in vain. Perhaps she should've spent more time with them, getting to know them, maybe she could've given them better advice then? She sighed, knowing that would've made the aftermath even worse. Coral felt guilty and was currently trying to drown her sorrows in a bottle of vodka. She didn't know what she would tell their parents, making a mental note to craft apology letters when she was more lucid. Hearing someone come up to the roof she quickly brushed the tears away from her face, ready to put up a front when she noticed it was Pyx, her posture relaxing again. "It never gets any easier, does it?"

@sitting-on-the-bottom

[sitting-on-the-bottom]

True to her word, she whisked out of the room only a few moments later, changed into clothes that were likely much more acceptable for the public than her loose pajama pants. Eyes focusing on where Mahlon was, she raised an eyebrow at him as she saw him poking around. "Didn't anyone ever teach you not to snoop?" she asked, although there was a distinct lack of bite to the words. With an ease, Pyx took her still riotous hair and spun it several times until it could be gathered and clipped on the top of her head. It still looked like someone who had not gotten much rest, but at least it seemed purposeful now.

Grabbing the coffee mug from where it had sat abandoned, she eyed it for a moment before slugging back the rest of its contents, wincing slightly as she did so -- whether from the bitterness or the fact that it had gone cold. "Dosage has been fine," she answered his question as she continued to rustle about, collecting herself. "I take a full one now instead of the half, makes it more bearable. Doesn't really keep them at bay, more just . . . dampers them down when I get one."

Finally turning to get a good look at Mahlon now that her chaotic preparation to leave was done, Pyxis caught a glance of his eye. Snorting a laugh, she pointed to her own to indicate what she was talking about when she asked, "nice face, walk into a door or piss someone off?"

Blinking bleary eyes at Mahlon, it took Pyxis a moment to buffer at the man shaking a bag of pills in her face. It wasn't that the redhead wasn't a morning person -- the contrary actually, she often woke before the sun, a habit from fishing. The night before however, she had only gotten an hour or two of sleep.

"Good morning to you too," she snapped back at his assessment, but still stepped aside slightly, an invitation for Mahlon to step into the suite she resided in on the fourth floor when she was in the Capitol. Before she moved away, she did grab the pills from his hand, tossing them over to the coffee table. It was clear she had already been awake, a cold cup of half filled coffee on the table and a blanket with a book set down open at the spine on the couch. A baggy sweater hung off one shoulder as she turned away from him, hair mussed slightly as if she hadn't brushed it after a shower.

"Fuck, yes. Pancakes sounds incredible. Let me just get dressed quick," she said before stepping towards the door which held a keypad. Angling her body to block Mahlon, she punched in the code before slipping into the door, hollering out behind her, "feel free to sit, but I should only be a second!"

[sitting-on-the-bottom]

Taking her own arm, Pyxis pulled it up over her head, allowing a small bend to go with it so her body formed a shallow crescent. Trying to release her shoulders was always a pain due to years of stress on them from diving and work.

"I get that," was her reply with a smile as she slowly deepened the crescent, "when I was in the Academy we had a gym, but it was nothing like this, and my classmates tended to monopolize it." They had actually wanted to volunteer, unlike her, so they got preference. "I tended to get most of my exercise in by diving. Only started really going to the gym frequently when I started working here more, and its honestly because the pool here is absolute garbage compared to the ocean."

Following his eyes to the machines, which she did agree looked daunting and like they would be used to extract a confession rather than a good sweat, her smile broke a little bigger. "I mean, some of them probably are. They've certainly left me feeling more sore than even a hard day of fishing does." Turning her eyes back to Alder, she let her gaze drift over him for a moment, looking like she was trying to sus out any potential weakness. After a second, she asked in a rather blunt fashion, "which part of you gets the most stiff. Like you wake up in the morning and stretch and you just can feel it coiled not wanting to let go of the muscle."

To be honest, Alder's suggestion that they work out together the morning of the launch had been something she had been intrigued by. After all, the mentors and trainers gym had become somewhat of a familiar stomping ground for her, however she had rarely seen the mentor around except for when his own tributes were being trained. Which to be fair, was how most of them were.

"Morning," she greeted with a smile. Watching his wave, a soft laugh escape as she bluntly said, "no need to be nervous, I don't bite. And I won't work you into the ground," she said with a wolfish grin. "I save that for tributes. Have less time to get them in shape." The smile on her face dampened a little though, when he mentioned the two tributes who had been felled.

"Ah well, can't win every year, I guess." Though she had known them both -- or their families at least -- distantly, Pyxis would be lying if she said she could recall their names at the moment. Like most things, when she tried to reach for the information, it was like it scuttled just out of the way.

"Nothing like blowing off some steam though, helps with the whole clearing your mind thing," clapping her hands together, Pyx for a moment slipped into trainer mode. "Now, I like to start with a good stretch, and if I'm having a particular shitty day or a headache day, some yoga."

[sitting-on-the-bottom]

To be honest, Alder's suggestion that they work out together the morning of the launch had been something she had been intrigued by. After all, the mentors and trainers gym had become somewhat of a familiar stomping ground for her, however she had rarely seen the mentor around except for when his own tributes were being trained. Which to be fair, was how most of them were.

"Morning," she greeted with a smile. Watching his wave, a soft laugh escape as she bluntly said, "no need to be nervous, I don't bite. And I won't work you into the ground," she said with a wolfish grin. "I save that for tributes. Have less time to get them in shape." The smile on her face dampened a little though, when he mentioned the two tributes who had been felled.

"Ah well, can't win every year, I guess." Though she had known them both -- or their families at least -- distantly, Pyxis would be lying if she said she could recall their names at the moment. Like most things, when she tried to reach for the information, it was like it scuttled just out of the way.

"Nothing like blowing off some steam though, helps with the whole clearing your mind thing," clapping her hands together, Pyx for a moment slipped into trainer mode. "Now, I like to start with a good stretch, and if I'm having a particular shitty day or a headache day, some yoga."

He was suddenly regretting this promise. At the time, trying to exercise seemed like a great idea for someone as anxious as him on launch day-- it would be a good way to work off the excess energy and step away from the Games for a moment. Though he'd still be keeping a close eye on things on his phone, it wasn't that different from when he took little breaks from being glued to the Games to shower, eat, sleep, like he normally did.

Now he was wishing he'd been a little less confident in his future self, feeling awkward and self-conscious as he waited for Pyxis to join him in the mentor's gym. He eyed some of the weights anxiously, wondering if she was going to judge him, or maybe expect him to be better than he would be. He was seriously considering bailing when Pyxis joined, and he tried to not look disappointed to not have the excuse to not do this after all. "Hey," he greeted, giving a small, uncomfortable wave. "I'm-- I'm sorry about your tributes."

@sitting-on-the-bottom

[sitting-on-the-bottom]

Blinking bleary eyes at Mahlon, it took Pyxis a moment to buffer at the man shaking a bag of pills in her face. It wasn't that the redhead wasn't a morning person -- the contrary actually, she often woke before the sun, a habit from fishing. The night before however, she had only gotten an hour or two of sleep.

"Good morning to you too," she snapped back at his assessment, but still stepped aside slightly, an invitation for Mahlon to step into the suite she resided in on the fourth floor when she was in the Capitol. Before she moved away, she did grab the pills from his hand, tossing them over to the coffee table. It was clear she had already been awake, a cold cup of half filled coffee on the table and a blanket with a book set down open at the spine on the couch. A baggy sweater hung off one shoulder as she turned away from him, hair mussed slightly as if she hadn't brushed it after a shower.

"Fuck, yes. Pancakes sounds incredible. Let me just get dressed quick," she said before stepping towards the door which held a keypad. Angling her body to block Mahlon, she punched in the code before slipping into the door, hollering out behind her, "feel free to sit, but I should only be a second!"

"Order up," Mahlon knocked, and when Pyx opened the door, he rattled a little baggy of pills. Sure, it was actually time to refill, but Mahlon also kinda missed the unhinged bitch. And was that a crime? To want to see a...friend? "You look like shit," he smiled, having clearly caught her first thing in the morning. "Wanna skip out on launch day bullshit an' stuff our faces with pancakes? I know a joint."

@sitting-on-the-bottom

[sitting-on-the-bottom]

For some of training, it was best to let the tributes work on their own things. Whether that be working on how to tie knots, how to have correct form on a weapon themselves, what have you. Pyxis wandered the gym looking about, making sure no one needed her assistance in her areas of specialty. A twirling knife and a bored look caught her attention, the flash of the blade a draw.

"What are you working on?" Pyxis challenged in return, cocking her head slightly. Walking around was not practicing, and these tributes needed to practice. Even careers, who often overestimated their abilities. "What can you do with that other than flip it, show me."

"So," Farina began, twirling a knife between her fingers, bored, and wandering the Training Center in search of something to do. She had only ever used knives for chopping and preparing herbs back home, but nobody around her knew that. It made her particularly deft with it, enough that she hoped it may communicate a don't fuck with me sort of look to other tributes as she perused stations. "What is it you're working on? Anything worth my time?"

[sitting-on-the-bottom]

With a lazy twirl, Pyxis let the sword hilt settle back into her hand once she finished a rotation of the blade. That was the trick, really. To not force it to return, but let the weight of the weapon settle itself back into a natural hold. Although not her weapon of choice personally, anything with a hilt had found its way into her wheelhouse. The style was completely different from a knife, but function and form never really changed from weapon to weapon. This one just had two sharp edges. Her normal choice - a dive knife - remained in the holster that strapped to her calf.

"You can't take your eyes away from a person also holding something sharp," she recommended, letting the blade spin in her fingers again. That time though, she used the motion to let it slide into the scabbard it belonged in. "People aren't going to ask if you're ready when you're in the Arena. Actually, exact opposite, usually you wait until the other person is distracted. So I mean, if you were trying to give me an opening, you really nailed it. If you were trying to stay alive . . . not so much."

Ash had agreed to let someone show him how to use swords, he was standing there with the blade in his hand. Holding the blade in a really poor manner, he wasn't sure how well his form could be improved but it was worth the effort to try and at least pick up some skills. However, he quickly got distracted by something which was when he felt the blade being knocked out of his hands. Watching the blade clatter to the floor, before turning back to his sparring partner.

"Wait....wait I wasn't ready. Something caught my attention. Let me try that again."

[sitting-on-the-bottom]

It was not that she was adverse to being touched. No, the opposite, actually. Before she had actually killed people, Pyxis had been very fond of a good hug or snuggle. After she had become someone she wasn't sure of anymore? Well, the touches certainly were a little less clandestine, and a little more about making sure she was grounded to the earth still, still someone she knew. But it wasn't something she avoided.

But something about Mahlon grabbing her arm, dragging her to the elevator which he yanked them both unceremoniously into as if she were a fish caught on the line and dragged at his mercy, that was something that set off a few alarm bells in her head. Blood rushed to her head - it was the same feeling of when she knew she had held her breath too long, when she needed to make a choice to go to the surface or let the ocean just take her as part of its bounty. She always swam up.

That was true for this moment too, as the minute she was able to collect her thoughts, process what had just happened, Mahlon almost lecturing her his hand still gripping her arm, she didn't even thing before she ripped her limb from him and in the same smooth motion used her other forearm to check him against the side of the elevator, putting space between them. Without thought, she quickly jammed her thumb in the button for the fourth floor, her own eyes wide when they returned to Mahlon.

"I-" she started, unsure of where her sentence was even going to go. He was upset, she was upset, and she wasn't exactly sure what he was upset about to know if she was being reasonable or if this was another one of her Pyxis moment. "Don't . . . do that again?" she finally settled on, the tone questioning. "And I won't either, sorry. You may have noticed, but I've never fucking done this before, so excuse me for not knowing proper decorum or procedure." Letting out a shaky breath, she moved back to lean against the elevator on the opposite side of Mahlon, leaning her head back. "And sorry I shoved you. I just," she gestured towards the arm he had grabbed, "too real I guess. Don't like feeling like a fish," was her likely nonsensical response to a man who had likely never fished in his life.

Breaking her focus at his comment, she gave him a brief scowl that carried no actual heat behind it. "I have been alive for thirty years now and literally no one would ever accuse me of being too quiet," was her response, letting a smile come through the scowl.

Waving a hand at him and his initial question, she dismissed the niceties with a quick "break was great, glad you were able to go home and play in rubble, we can get to that in a second because McCreary the important thing here is I went diving," she stressed with exasperation, as if he was not understanding the sheer gravity of this moment.

Continuing in the rapid fire cadence, "I mean I've gone diving since someone tried to kill me with a piece of building but never consistently and then I went home and I was! I went out! Every day!" Then, what he said hit her, and she snapped her mouth shut and narrowed her eyes at him. "I dive for oysters. You don't dive for clams, that would be silly. You catch them with your toes or a rake," she said as if that were the most normal sentence in the world.

Sitting back in the chair though, she used the moment to take a breath, slowing down slightly. "So, I need more of whatever the fuck it was you gave me. Or are you not allowed to do drug deals in lobbies?" Her volume did not alter at all asking that question, drawing a confused look or two.

[sitting-on-the-bottom]

Giving Alder a smile, she looked back down at her clip board quick to check if she had anything left to look into, before turning back to him, "they tell you its easy, districts are on the corresponding floor number, all that. They never tell you how much they actually managed to cram in this tower, and it's not that straightforward."

With an aimless amble, she moved closer to where Alder sat on the weight bench. For an uncharacteristic moment, she hesitated, before plopping down next to him when he asked if she was here a lot. Clutching the clip board to her chest, she let her blue eyes dance around the gym as she took in its corners.

"Probably the one place in this tower I do know all the nooks and crannies of," was her honest response. Reaching up, she pulled on of her twin braids to bring it back over her shoulder, fiddling with the tight plait. "When I am in the Capitol I'm probably here . . . every day? When its time to train the tributes, I come in before any of them do to stretch, warm up, get ready. Otherwise, yeah, I come in to just get my own reps in. When I'm home, I swim, but its just a pool here so its not the same."

"If they did come through, they were probably very sneaky," Pyxis said, turning to look at Alder, giving him a friendly smile. "In which case, hey, may want to use that. But . . . unfortunately it's my memory that is pretty inconsistent, not my hearing," she said with a laugh. And, unknowing to even her, a bit incorrectly. Perhaps not perceptible quite yet, Pyxis's hearing was not what it once was.

Looking around the gym, following Alder's gaze and frown with curiosity, she gave a shrug. "Dunno," was her answer. "I assume they can, but I think most don't know how to get here unless their Mentor's bring them. Or they are focused on the whole Tower thing. Or maybe they get lost. I still do that sometimes."

[sitting-on-the-bottom]

"Want to know a secret?" she said, her voice not dropping at all although a conspiratorial glint was in her eye. "It's totally horrible, but part of the reason I prefer to train instead of mentor is because I cannot remember names most of the time if my life depended on it." Moving so she could sit across from Sheen and his dog, she leaned back against the chair as she set her notepad down across from her. Across the top of the current page could clearly be seen each district number, the tribute with it, and a few words jotted down next to the tributes name, like 'blond' or 'feral.'

"Forget a sponsors name? Drama, issues, all that. Forget a tributes name? Twenty-three out of twenty-four chance they won't be able to give you shit about it." It was a cold thing to say, but that was the truth of where they were at. For once, Pyx's disability had a weird upside - she almost never remembered their names. "But to answer your question, no. They usually come scared enough, I don't need to help," her tone had a little less of her humor to it, shrugging slightly with the reality of why. "You do forget I live here during games and whenever I am in town, so the one that lives, well, they know where I live."

Slipping a hand out of the sleeve it had been sweater paw'd within, Pyxis quickly flipped through some pages of the notebook, mouthing the words quickly to herself as she tried to remember who the two tributes from one where. Glancing over the names quickly, she made a mental note - which she would probably forge but hey sometimes it worked - to add in that they would likely be looking to hone technique more than basics.

A smile played on her lips at Sheen's comments about them. "Hey hey," she interrupted, her tone clearly light though, "not all of us Academy brats turn out half bad I think." Pyxis herself was a product of her academy, although she had not been selected to volunteer and had never really had the intention to do so. When he mentioned the one tributes sentiments towards the rebels though, Pyx tried to control her features a little more. Likely failing miserably, but the attempt was made as she tried to stop. To be fair, it was unclear what she thought anyway, she herself had not really been able to parse through it fully. Things had been moving around her and it had gone by her, and she still was not sure how much she was missing now.

"Yeah, a lot of them get cocky until they see the other tributes," was her dismissal of the tributes sentiments. "You'd be shocked out much seeing other people trained to kill scares the shit out of them. Hopefully it'll help her pull some sponsors though. I definitely don't envy you for the necessity of interacting with that many people. I mean, don't get me wrong, I see a fair share, but most give me a bit of leeway." Granted, that was because of her more curious nature and inability to read a room and say something that would embarrass everyone involved.

[sitting-on-the-bottom]

Breaking her focus at his comment, she gave him a brief scowl that carried no actual heat behind it. "I have been alive for thirty years now and literally no one would ever accuse me of being too quiet," was her response, letting a smile come through the scowl.

Waving a hand at him and his initial question, she dismissed the niceties with a quick "break was great, glad you were able to go home and play in rubble, we can get to that in a second because McCreary the important thing here is I went diving," she stressed with exasperation, as if he was not understanding the sheer gravity of this moment.

Continuing in the rapid fire cadence, "I mean I've gone diving since someone tried to kill me with a piece of building but never consistently and then I went home and I was! I went out! Every day!" Then, what he said hit her, and she snapped her mouth shut and narrowed her eyes at him. "I dive for oysters. You don't dive for clams, that would be silly. You catch them with your toes or a rake," she said as if that were the most normal sentence in the world.

Sitting back in the chair though, she used the moment to take a breath, slowing down slightly. "So, I need more of whatever the fuck it was you gave me. Or are you not allowed to do drug deals in lobbies?" Her volume did not alter at all asking that question, drawing a confused look or two.

Location: Tower Lobby With: @mxhlon

With a soft wumph, Pyxis practically fell into the chair next to where Mahlon sat. Coming down from her morning workout, she had immediately clocked him sitting in the lobby, doing whatever it was Mahlon did to entertain himself. But Pyxis, she came in with a mission. Zip up hoodie sliding off her shoulder slightly, she fixed it before turning her attention to the man next to her.

"So, whatever the hell it is you gave me? Yeah, it worked," she said without much introduction. No how was twelve, how is rebuilding going, or other semantics. Leaning forward with a gleam in her eye, she gave a level look as she explained what had her so excited. "I went diving when I was home. No issues."

[sitting-on-the-bottom]

Turning to look at the woman who had joined her, Pyxis smiled before turning back to her clipboard to quickly make a notation before looking back up. Flicking one of the long braids back over her shoulder, she also took the moment to look around the gym.

"Ah, just the standard for now." Daffodil was right in the fact that usually, as time went on, sometimes specific things would be made available if there was a possibility of the necessity of special training. However, normally the gym was so expansively stocked around the Games training that it was hard to know what would feature that year and what would not.

Walking closer, she turned on a socked heel to glance around. "No tributes yet either, my guess is they'll start being brought in for training soon though." Glancing over at the woman from Six, she gave a curious look. "What about yours. Any potential there? Need me to kick their asses into shape so they aren't toast in ten minutes?" Six was not a career district, and the tributes usually reflected the lack of training provided.

Location: Tower Gym With: anyone!

Already, someone was dead and the games hadn't even began. If she was being honest, Pyxis could not remember the name of the head gamemaker even if it would save her life. It was one of those things that just kept going in one ear and out the other. But watching someone get executed on live television? Had her thinking about what she watched happen to District 12 all over again.

At least now, she could turn back to her job. Tribute training was not due to start yet, but that had not stopped Pyxis from returning back to the gym, a place she was comfortable with. With her clipboard in hand, she had gone through what the inventory looked like - something she did every year, always misplacing her list and forgetting. This was also where both mentors and tributes alike would be wont to find her, whether they were looking or not.

As if on cue, Pyxis could hear the doors to the gym slide open. Without looking over her shoulder she called, "whoever you're looking for, if it isn't me, isn't here!" The place was empty sans the redhead with her hair tied into twin french braids going down either side of her head.