Circle of Life ~ OPEN!

For most teenagers, Friday afternoon meant hanging out with friends, relaxing, and basically enjoying the fact that the week was over. This was not the case, however, for Keagon Seye. The second the bell rang to signal the end of the school day, the fifteen year old shoved his (unopened) books into his backpack, sprinted home, and changed into running shoes and shorts. He grabbed a different backpack, this one filled with rocks (literally-rocks), flung it on his back, and took off out the door. An hour of running with the weighted backpack, and he’d be ready for weapons training.

Of all the training exercises Keagon did, running was probably the worst. It wasn’t that it was difficult; the fifteen had built up plenty of endurance over the years, and although he constantly pushed himself, he never felt as though he was going to fall over from running too far or too fast. No, what he hated about running was that it gave him time to think. And naturally, during that time, Keagon simply could not stop his thoughts from drifting to the one thing his life had always revolved around: The Hunger Games.

With the reaping coming up, Keagon found himself training with even more vigor than usual. Sure, his name was only in there four times, but if he was called he knew for a fact there would be no allowing a volunteer to fill in for him. That would hardly be respectable, so Keagon had to be ready for anything. And as much as he denied it to the world (and himself, for that matter), a small part of Keagon was scared of getting picked. He’d watched his older brother make it all the way to the final four in the Games, only to be killed by sheer bad luck. All of his training had been for nothing, and his life was over. So what if the same thing happened to Keagon?

But right, he couldn’t afford to think like that. Not right now. He had to channel that fear and use it to push himself. Which was exactly what he did, speeding up even as he reached a hill on his usual trail. But god, this was hard. Keagon wasn’t sure how long he’d been running, but it had been long enough to cover him in sweat and make him short of breath. But still Keagon pushed himself, refusing to slow until he finally reached the top of the hill.

With that done, the fifteen year old simply had to take a break, so he threw off his backpack, pulled out the water bottle he’d stuck in it, and took a long swig. He would give himself two minutes, then it was back to running. As he stood, hands on his knees and taking deep breaths, a butterfly landed on Keagon’s hand. The fifteen year old looked at it for a moment; it was kind of pretty, with deep purple wings and black spots. Then, a sick grin on his face, he grasped it gently between the thumb and index finger of his other hand and squished it. A dark laugh escaped Keagon's throat; it was exhilarating to the boy, how easily he could take a life. Sometimes it almost made him excited for the day he would volunteer for the Games; killing a human was guaranteed to be much more exciting than a bug, yeah?

((I just couldn't resist...o.O))

Jonathon’s breathing was heavy not due to exercise but due to his loss of patience. He slammed the door behind him and kicked the ground. Groaning he left the house, hands in the pockets of his shorts. He walked slowly and gained little momentum. He knew he was strong, after all, the training he had explicated for the past few years were more than enough to confirm that. However, Jonathon had lost hope, or more plainly, lost the knowledge, that he was going to go into the games. Not that he really cared,. He was still going to keep his training up, but today was not one of those days. He skirted down the street with a slow pace. The pace got on the boys nerves, but he saw no need to quicken it. He moved to the left slightly and went towards the second of his two training hills, this was the one he didn’t like as much, but he couldn’t be bothered going to the woods today. He wasn’t training this time, he only wanted to go there for a rest.

The eighteen year old quickly lost interest in his surroundings not taking much of it in. He saw the one boy he had beaten in a wrestling match but a week ago, but he didn’t bother to acknowledge his presence. Jonathon was seen by many, as a demeaning figure. He wasn’t someone to cross, he was...’hard’. Though as Jonathon made his way up the hill his throat twisted into a knot as he thought of Arianna, he had not spoken to her in such a long time. The boy let out a deep sigh as his eyes closed, “Where are you?” He asked out loud, not that anyone could hear him. He grumbled under his breath, he was not in a good mood today. At all.

He slowly made his way towards the hill. Then he saw someone else, he was running up the hill, with a tiny sack full of...Jonathon didn’t know what it was full of, but the sight made him laugh. He moved his knuckle to his mouth; it amused him when young ones tried to train. He decided, in a split second and without thinking anything through, to follow the boy. Unlike the boy, Jonathon walked up the slope. Giving little effort into it. He was not panting or sweating when he reached the top. He watched the boy intently, stifling back a small laugh, the boy probably knew of Jonathon, after all, Jonathon was known throughout the school as the main jock, but he did not know this boy’s face. From the little he saw of it anyway.

Jonathon watched as a butterfly landed in the boys’ hand. He saw very little of it, and he folded his arms. Rearranging his posture slightly before the boy crushed the insect in his hand. Jonathon narrowed his eyes, mostly out of curiosity. He wanted to scare the boy at first, so that was what he did. “And what the hell was the need in that?” Jonathon raised an eyebrow. Clearly not saying hello or asking for a name. “Oh and your ‘training’, it needs some work, kid. You won’t last two seconds if you’re training for the games with an effort like that.” Jonathon grinned, but his expression was vaguely kind. “I may have to show you how to properly train. If that is ‘okay’ with you.”

In reality, Jonathon gave the other boy next to no choice in the matter. “You probably know me, Jonathon Moyers? But I don’t know you, tell me, name?” He was intentional with his constant questions; however he still smiled, kindly. If someone wasn’t training right, then he was willing to 'help.'

((Ha~ I was going to ask you for a thread anyways xP))

As he flung the remains of the butterfly from his hand and wiped it on his shorts, Keagon became aware that someone else had joined him. He straightened up, crossed his arms to mimic his company, and eyed the boy standing before him. To Keagon’s surprise, he recognized the older guy as Jonathon, one of the older careers. Keagon figured he’d probably be volunteering for the Games this year, so he was a bit surprised to see he wasn’t pushing himself very hard, at least not from the looks of it. But Keagon figured Jonathon surely knew what he was doing; the guy seemed like the type who had everything all figured out.

So needless to say, Keagon was a bit surprised to hear that the older boy actually cared about the fate of a butterfly. Keagon cocked an eyebrow and shrugged. Did he need a reason? Some people read books or played sports for entertainment, Keagon killed things. Sometimes he tortured them first. But the point was, there was no difference between that and whatever leisure activities other people chose to do, at least not in the fifteen year old’s eyes.

Before Keagon could think much more into the matter, however, he was pulled from his thoughts at Jonathon’s next words. Whether the older boy had meant them to or not (though Keagon figured he probably did), Jonathon’s words were like a slap in the face to Keagon, for a few reasons. First of all, he was training with the best trainers in the District, some of the same ones Jonathon probably used, if Keagon wasn’t mistaken. So he knew what he was doing, thank you very much. And of course he was exhausted; he’d been running for who knows how long, and he hadn’t trotted leisurely up the hill like Jonathon had. But the principle reason Jonathon’s remark had caused Keagon to tense up, clenching his jaw, was his comment about not lasting two seconds. Because Keagon knew all too well that no matter how much he trained, no matter what he did, his odds of surviving the Games were still only 1 out of 24. But right, he still had three more years, a fact Keagon found himself clinging to more and more frequently. He still had three more years.

And then Keagon was once again pulled from his thoughts to ones that were about equally pleasant. Jonathon wanted to “show him how to properly train?” Wonderful. Keagon was pretty positive he knew what that meant. It was pretty much tradition, as far as Keagon could tell, for the older careers in District 2 to “mess with” the younger ones. And it rarely ended well for the younger ones, so it was all Keagon could do once he finally got a chance to get a word in to force his usual smirk on his face and say, “’Course it’s okay. Not like I have a choice, yeah?” Keagon was careful to keep his tone cheery, even though he wanted nothing more than to fling a punch at the rude older boy. Flinging punches at things was pretty much Keagon’s reflex response to everything, though.

Fortunately, he knew better than to be rude to an older career. There was a food chain, among the careers, and this boy was at the top. Not that Keagon was at the bottom; he’d been training with the best of them for as long as he could remember, and was certainly a force to be reckoned with. But when it came to older, more experienced fighters, there wasn’t much Keagon could do besides accept the fact that they were better than him and keep working so he would be at that status in a couple of years. But in the meantime, Keagon would have to keep his cool around Jonathon. Lifting his chin in a nod, Keagon replied, “Yeah, I know you. I’m Keagon.” He paused, and because he figured if he didn’t say it now Jonathon would just ask him about it anyways, reluctantly added, “Keagon Seye”, and braced himself for the recognition that was surely coming.

After all, it was only three years ago that Keagon’s older brother Kenton had volunteered for the Games. Having gone through 18 years of strenuous training, Kenton had been a well know career. In fact, Kenton probably would have been to Jonathon what Jonathon was to Keagon; an older Career, well known among the others. And now, after the older boy’s death in the final four due to sheer bad luck, Keagon was now known to many older careers as “Kenton’s little brother”, following in his brother’s footsteps and hopefully not to certain death. Which was sure to make this encounter so much more enjoyable for Keagon, in the most sarcastic way possible.

A grin formed on Jonathon’s face as the other boy answered him. The by mimicked Jonathon’s arm crossing, which Jonathon didn’t really know how to take in. Jonathon breathed out slowly. Then Jonathon persisted to keep his gaze on the younger boy. Jonathon didn’t really care about this boy’s opinion. He was certainly expecting come backs, pretty much everyone in District Two was like that. He got no answer to his first question except some facial movements. Jonathon simply smirked and looked at the pieces of butterfly that were now on the guys shorts. Jonathon gave no stir, nor did he show any sign of talking until the boy spoke. The older Career was expecting some kind of retaliation when he had questioned the boys training techniques. Jonathon was surprisingly good at getting on someone’s nerves. It wasn’t something he liked to do often though as he often thought of things from other people’s perspective.

As the boy spoke Jonathon smirked again. He had caught on then. This was sure to be interesting. If of course the boy did actually want to be taught how to train. Jonathon had little doubt that the boy trained with high ranking trainers, but they never got things correct, for Jonathon anyway, whether or not this boy had the same opinion, Jonathon didn’t know. However, if he was going to get thrown into the games, then running up a hill with a punch of rocks wasn’t exactly going to help you win. As the boy, Keagon, introduced himself Jonathon smiled then he dropped his seriousness and became more casual around the boy, after he mentioned his second name. “Nice to meet you. You’re Kenton’s brother aint ya? He was a god fighter, I’ll give you that.” Jonathon could vaguely remember Kenton, though he had never really had to dwell on it. When Kenton came third Jonathon had simply sighed and turned the screen off. Not that Keagon needed to know that. Jonathon didn’t really have a big opinion of Kenton and he probably never would do.

“Look here. I remember Kenton, vaguely, and this was not how he trained. Rocks will do nothing but scratch your back. You need to work on your upper body strength and your legs for the Games. Not so much you’re Stamina.” Jonathon then moved forward and sat himself next to Keagon, keen to become friendly with the boy, but not too friendly. “I’m not like most of the older Careers. I don’t believe in using you for my own entertainment—“ Not a completely true statement, but Jonathon was kinder than most other Careers. Even though he was one of the stronger ones. “—So, once you’ve recovered from your last exercise why don’t you show me what you can do?” The tone that Jonathon used was a kind one, though it unintentionally came across as though Jonathon wasn’t all too interested.

“Then I’ll improve your—regime.” He spoke with a small laugh then balled his fist and hit it against his open palm. His arms tensed slightly as he performed the action. He rubbed the fist clockwise then moved his flat hand and started to rub his fingers. “Kenton was a cocky little- yeah, he wasn’t exactly outgoing was he?” Jonathon felt a bit odd talking to Keagon. As Jonathon was to Keagon what Kenton was to Jonathon. Even though Jonathon had never spoken to Kenton, the principle was still there. Eventually Jonathon stopped fiddling with his hands and placed them in his short’s pockets. “Well go on then.” His voice was still kind, even though he practically had just given Keagon a command. He was generally curious to see what this boy could do. Most guys from District Two were good at physical things. The girls too. Almost all of them were trained, and evidently this boy was no exception so Jonathon wasn’t going to be overly kind. “I might let you have a shot at me, if you’re strong enough.” He did not smile with that statement; his face basically spoke the words for him, ‘Bring it on.’

Since Keagon was pretty much doomed to being known among the older Careers as “Kenton’s little brother”, he figured he was at least lucky that people responded to that information in a generally positive way. Take Jonathon for example. The older boy seemed to relax a good bit after hearing Keagon’s last name. The fifteen year old was torn between pleasure and annoyance at the reaction; he would have preferred that Jonathon decide to be causal because of something Keagon had done himself, but at least he wasn’t still staring him down. And now Keagon would just have to prove that he could live up to his brother’s reputation, which wasn’t exactly something new to him. With a good natured grin and another shrug, Keagon nodded. “Yeah, I thought so too. Nice to meet you, too.” Not really. Keagon would have much preferred not to have his training interrupted by some cocky older career (was this how the younger kids felt when Keagon picked on them? Awesome.), but he wasn’t about to say that to Jonathon’s face. Nope, the grin was staying put; Keagon preferred to avoid bruising as much as possible, thank you very much.

Aaaand now Jonathon was back to questioning Keagon’s training. Only now he was, of course, comparing him to Kenton. Shocker. Though Keagon had to admit, the older boy seemed to have a good point. Keagon still considered stamina pretty important, but stamina wasn’t going to help him kill tributes. And as much as he’d always idolized Kenton, it wasn’t like Keagon knew too much about his training rituals – there was a six year age difference between the brothers, after all. So it was very possible that Kenton had disregarded some of the instructions of the trainers and chosen different training techniques. And, well, Jonathon did seem to know what he was doing, as far as Keagon could tell. His brows furrowed, Keagon shot Jonathon a calculating look that quickly changed to one of surprise as Jonathon actually sat down beside him and spoke again.

If Jonathon was being honest right now, it seemed Keagon just might have been lucky to run into the older boy. Was it possible that Jonathon actually wanted to help Keagon? Not that he believed for a moment the older boy really wasn’t doing this for entertainment, but maybe he also meant to help him at the same time? The skepticism clear in his voice, Keagon cocked an eyebrow and replied, “Yeah, alright.” Again, no matter what Jonathon said, it wasn’t like Keagon had a choice. And he wanted to “improve” Kenton’s regime? Oh, boy. Keagon wasn’t sure what Jonathon had planned as far as that went, but something told him he wasn’t going to enjoy that at all. Maybe it was the fact that the older boy was making a fist as he spoke; not a good sign, if you asked Keagon. But since Keagon was Keagon, he responded not with wariness but with another cocky smirk. “I look forward to it.” Being over.

No point in delaying it, really. Keagon stood up and stretched his arms over his head as Jonathon spoke again, surprised to hear he’d brought the topic back to Kenton. So much for hoping Jonathon wouldn’t be comparing the two of them. Not that Keagon had really expected him not to, but the verbal reminder didn’t exactly fill him with confidence. Good thing he had enough of that on his own, yeah? Keagon just nodded and chuckled at the older boy’s opinion of his brother. “Nah, not exactly.” A sideways grin crossed Keagon’s face as he tried to picture a younger Jonathon being intimidated by Kenton, but the image was just too weird for him to conjure up. Jonathon’s words brought Keagon back to reality. Right, he had to prove himself or whatever. So no pressure.

And oh? If Keagon wasn’t mistaken, he’d just been issued a challenge. His eyebrows shot up, and rather than bother with any more chatter, he got right down to business, determined to prove himself. He wasn’t exactly sure what Jonathon wanted to see, so Keagon lowered himself to the ground and started off by doing some push ups, since they used the most muscles. After several of these, he switched to doing them one-handed, and then clapping in between them. This was nothing for the fifteen year old. He’d been doing push ups since birth. With a bored expression on his face that said, ‘I could do this all day,’ Keagon looked up at Jonathon and raised an eyebrow. “Seen enough? Or d’you want to come stand on my back?” That was a pretty risky joke – Keagon certainly wouldn’t be able to do push-ups with a large, muscular career on his back – but he hoped the older boy would appreciate it, and not see it as an opportunity to torment him. And as soon as that thought crossed his mind, though, Keagon wished he could take back the words; but seeing as it was too late for that, he’d just have to wait and see what happened. Maybe Jonathon wanted to see something else?

Jonathon tucked his legs into his chest and looked Keagon up and down. The answers he received were half expected, mainly due to the fact that the tone of sarcasm was used. The older career grinned as Keagon said that it was nice to meet Jonathon. Yeah right, Jonathon didn’t believe it for a second. Jonathon placed his hands over his knees and laughed. It was partly because he found the comment, but it was also partly because Jonathon was looking forward to the rest of his time with the younger career. The tone that Keagon used implied, to Jonathon anyway, that the younger boy wanted Jonathon to get lost. The older career didn’t really blame Keagon for that, as Jonathon didn’t like his training being interrupted either. Jonathon however, was not the kindest of people, and when he saw someone training he just had to intervene. Mainly because people never did it to his standard of correctness, not that it was actually his place to correct their ways.

These thoughts were oblivious to Jonathon and right now he was eager to see what the younger boy could actually do. He was expecting Keagon to be got at whatever he decided to show Jonathon, and then Jonathon would work from there. For now though he listened to the, very few, words that Keagon had to say. Jonathon couldn’t help but laugh when Keagon said he looked forward to Jonathon changing his regime. Yet another lie. Jonathon couldn’t hold back the chuckle. He raised an eyebrow as Keagon finally decided to show what he could do. Jonathon’s arms released their grip on his knees and the muscles in his legs tensed. It was partly to show off and also just for amusement purposes.

What Jonathon got from Keagon was something he had been expecting. He watched as the boy performed three different types of push ups. Jonathon was vaguely impressed, but he could definitely have done better. At least Keagon didn’t fall on the clapping push ups. Jonathon was about to say that Keagon had done an all right job when Keagon’s cocky mouth came in and asked if Jonathon wanted to stand on his back. Jonathon lowered his mouth in a smirk then rubbed his hands together. He shuffled himself to his feet then walked over to Keagon. The cracked his knuckles, then grinned. He went to his knees, relieving Keagon of the fact that he was going to actually stand on his back, Jonathon wasn’t that mean. Instead he gave a hard shove with both of his hands on the boys back. Holding the boys body down, not with all of Jonathon’s capable force though far from it. The extra weight on Keagon’s back was going to challenge the boy. Jonathon wouldn’t have been surprised if Keagon fell to the ground. “Can you cope with this then?” He slightly mocked Keagon’s tone but it was not to a great extent. “Now then. Keep going.”

Jonathon’s hands could feel quite a bit of muscle. Even though it was not that close to the older careers mass, it was still pretty impressive. Jonathon smiled as he held the boy down. His tactic was quite simple, increase the force as time went by. Jonathon had gone through a similar regime when his mother was still alive, of course back then his father was strong and forced Jonathon to perform this exercise once a day. At first Jonathon had failed it each time, but eventually he managed to last slightly longer. Until eventually his father couldn’t hold him down. “You keep this up with someone else holding you down, and you’ll be stronger in no time.” Jonathon’s voice was not exactly comforting, but it certainly handed some encouragement nonetheless.

“Now—“ Jonathon was still holding the boy down, not really taking notice as to is he had managed to keep going or not. “Try and get me off your back.” Jonathon gave another grin and then turned his head away. He looked over the hill, it was a trick though as he was more than ready to stop Keagon’s attempt. This was just to make the boy think that he had a chance.

This entire experience didn’t require much effort and Jonathon’s now had most of his own weight on Keagon’s back. He was definitely interested to see if Keagon could move Jonathon, as Jonathon wasn’t exactly the lightest person in the world.

Well crap. You would think that by now Keagon would have learned that his big mouth often got him into trouble, but that clearly wasn’t the case, because now there was a much larger, stronger, slightly intimidating Career walking towards him, apparently about to stand on him. And there was nothing Keagon could do about it, since it had been his brilliant idea in the first place. Smug smile wiped clean off his face, the fifteen year old tried to keep the panic off his face as Jonathon approached him, but god knows that was a difficult task. Keagon was pretty positive the second the older boy put his weight on him, he would be flattened like a pancake. Forget the Hunger Games, Keagon wasn’t going to make it through the next ten seconds. Just as he went back to normal, non-clapping push-ups (as if that would even help), however, Keagon saw from the corner of his eye that Jonathon was kneeling beside him. Not on him. The fifteen year old could have started dancing, but seeing as this was neither the time nor place for that, he simply exhaled slowly in relief.

The relief was short-lived, however, because no sooner had Jonathon knelt beside him that did Keagon feel a sudden weight on his back. It caught Keagon by surprise, and he nearly fell but managed to hold himself up, just barely. His face scrunched up with the effort, Keagon fought to push his arms back up, but it was definitely a challenge now. There would be no one-armed push ups or clapping now. The effort to form a coherent reply to the older boy’s question was too much, so Keagon simply responded with a grunt and an increased amount of effort to push himself up. Slowly, slowly, Keagon was managing to push himself back up, scowling all the while. It wasn’t so much out of anger, though, than out of exertion and concentration.

It wasn’t like Keagon hadn’t been expecting the older boy to test him somehow, so he figured he was actually getting off pretty easy. Rather than simply beating him up, Jonathon was teaching him a useful training technique. And enjoying watching him struggle, Keagon was sure, but it could be a lot worse. Keagon continued doing push-ups, albeit much more slowly than before. It was an effort, and if he wasn’t mistaken Jonathon was just increasing the amount of force on his back as he kept going – it certainly felt that way, but it was possible that was just Keagon getting more exhausted – but no way was Keagon going to quit in front of the older boy, unless his arms fell out from under him. Which could very well happen if he kept this up, but Keagon would deal with that if it came to it.

He was a bit surprised by the next thing the older boy said. If Keagon didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought Jonathon was actually encouraging him. This time the fifteen year old managed a nod and a strained, “Wonderful. I can’t wait!” Sarcasm? Keagon? Pssshh, never.

How long was this going to keep up? Keagon wasn’t sure how long he’d been doing push-ups with Jonathon’s added weight, but it certainly felt like he’d been doing them long enough. If you could even call what Keagon was doing push-ups anymore, since he was barely lifting himself off the ground. At least he was still doing something, yeah?

Oh? What was this? Now Keagon had to try and get the older boy off his back? Well, wasn’t that just brilliant? “Aye aye, captain,” the ever-cocky teenager muttered in response. Keagon knew there was no way this could end well for him, but he was also well aware that, once again, he didn’t have a choice but to do as Jonathon said. Gritting his teeth, Keagon attempted to push himself off the ground once more, this time also trying to stand up and therefore push the older boy off of him. God knows this was going to be difficult, but Keagon was hoping that at least, when he inevitably failed, he would show the older boy that he had some potential, so regardless of the odds Keagon tried with all his (considerable) strength to push the older boy off of him.

The reaction Jonathon got was one he had half expected. Cockiness was a thing that was spread to deeply around District Two. Keagon said that it was nice to meet Jonathon. Pah, Jonathon knew that was a lie. Not that he decided to interrupt; he just grinned and mentally shrugged it off. Jonathon could feel the boy straining to push, but he still managed to perform the pushups, this was rather surprising to Jonathon, but he showed no sign of this surprise. He kept concentration on holding the boy down, and nothing else. Jonathon grinned at Keagon’s continued sarcasm, but he still kept a firm amount of strength pushing down on the younger boys back.

Jonathon only just caught Keagon’s muttered words, and he didn’t reply to them. He gritted his teeth slightly and pushed down with his weight. His arm muscles were tensed. He felt the push come from Keagon and Jonathon simply kept the same amount of strength pushing down on the boys back. He wasn’t going to let Keagon get up easily. The older Career’s muscles tensed even more and he gave a harsh, almost brutal, shove on Keagon’s back, not to break it. It was an action that would, if Keagon was weak now, shove the younger boy to the ground, of course though, people from District 2 new better than to give in easily. Jonathon was expecting resistance to his shove.

All of this was so similar to what Jonathon’s father had done to train Jonathon up that it was almost surreal. He hadn’t been trained on this hill though. That was one of the main differences. Jonathon da been trained mainly by his mother, his father did come into it a lot though, mainly for the strength factor. None of this was around anymore though, his mother was dead and his father was weak and a drunk. Life was hard for Jonathon, and the boy himself even questioned how he managed to pull through life. Jonathon didn’t know about this boys past life. Apart from he was Kenton’s brother and his name was Keagon. Jonathon hadn’t really spoken to Kenton, and this was his first meeting with Keagon. So naturally he was slightly surprised with the similarity. However, when he thought about it, life was pretty much the same for everybody in District 2. Train for the games and bring pride to District 2. Jonathon wanted to bring that pride, but he was waiting, he’d have a better chance if he volunteered when he was Eighteen. It made winning much easier. With age came muscular development. And that was why the smaller, weaker people rarely won. Not that anyone cared.

Jonathon chuckled to himself slightly as this thought entered his brain. Despite the fact that he did feel sympathetic for the people who had to fight when they weren’t ready, he didn’t care that much. It wasn’t his fault they were there, so why should he care? Only if he himself was in the Games would Jonathon care, when he killed them. This brought an end to Jonathon’s chuckle. He wasn’t scared of going into the Games; he had little to live for anyway. His father was a disgusting man, in many people’s opinion. Jonathon’s mother had been vaguely beautiful but a disease kicked her to hell quicker than Jonathon’s father reached for a beer glass, and that was saying something.

This made Jonathon fiddle with the side of his mouth with his tongue. His hands still pressed down on Keagon’s back to stop him from rising, but in the pressure he placed on it dropped as he thought about his mother. When she had died Jonathon had punched the wall in anger. He didn’t know why, he hadn’t really loved his mother all that much. This sudden angry thought didn’t mean anything good for Keagon. Jonathon slammed his hands down, a vague anger swirled around his mind and until he realised the strength of his push. He breathed heavy. Then froze, a slightly shocked look came over his face. “Dude I am SO sorry.” The words that came out of the boys’ mouth were sincere. “I didn’t mean to...yeah—” Jonathon moved away and flexed his hands. “—Sorry.”

((Tried my best not to god-mod. ))

Of course the pressure was increasing. Keagon wasn’t even really doing push-ups anymore, but rather just trying to hold himself up so he wouldn’t get pushed all the way to the ground. He would let his arms fall out of their sockets before he gave up in front of this older boy. There would be no going back from looking like a fool in front of the guy; as far a Keagon was concerned, Jonathon could either be a really useful ally to help him train, or a major pain in his rear end if he though Keagon was just a stupid wannabe. Fortunately, Keagon was well aware of his awesomeness, so he just needed to make Jonathon aware of it too.

Though he wasn’t feeling all that awesome at the moment. Still, he wasn’t giving up, even when the older boy suddenly gave him a hard shove. Keagon’s arms wobbled, but at the last moment he just barely managed to keep himself off the ground. At this point there was only like an inch between his body and the dirt, but hey, Keagon would take it. He felt like he’d been doing this for hours, and the only thought going through the boy’s head was that he would absolutely not, under any circumstances, allow himself to be pushed down.

And then finally, finally he felt the pressure lessen. So Jonathon was finally letting up? Thank God, it was about time he –

All thoughts flew from the fifteen year old’s mind when the pressure returned so quickly and with so much more pressure than before that, before Keagon could even comprehend what was happening, he was slammed flat into the ground right on his face. He heard an unpleasant cracking sound that was immediately followed by a sharp pain in his nose and the feeling of warm blood spreading on his face. A sharp cry of pain left his throat, followed by a couple of choice curse words as Keagon rolled over onto his back and slowly pushed himself into a sitting position.

Oblivious to Jonathon’s apologies, Keagon held a hand up to his face to inspect the damage. It only took a small (painful) touch to his nose for him to decide it was broken. Not a big deal – Keagon had broken his nose before – but it was still annoying. Turning his face away from the older boy, Keagon spat a mixture of spit and blood out of his mouth and wiped his face until it felt like he’d gotten rid of most of the blood.

With that taken care of, he finally turned his attention back to the older boy. “What the hell was that?” Keagon really was trying his best not to shout, but there was no hiding the anger in his voice. After wiping his now bloody hands on his shirt – it was already covered in dirt anyways – the fifteen year old jumped to his feet and took a deep breath.

Right. Jonathon had apologized. He’d sounded sincere. And whether he was or not didn’t really matter; nothing good would come from blowing up at an older, stronger career. Keagon knew he had to control his temper. But that was much easier said than done, especially after having your face shoved into the dirt. Another deep breath. Count to ten…Keagon finally cleared his throat and managed a grimace. “Yeah…s’okay.” He shrugged (which unfortunately caused a wince of pain) and a sideways grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I’ve had worse.” It was true. Once he got over the shock and anger from being shoved into the ground during what was supposed to be a training exercise – even older careers picking on younger ones was supposed to stop short of outright violence. It certainly wasn’t supposed to draw blood – Keagon could accept that really, he was fine. A broken nose and some blood was nothing compared to other injuries he’d received training with sharp pointy weapons. For sure there would be major bruises tomorrow, but Keagon was a career. Bruises were kind of the norm.

((GUUHHH. I am SO sorry about how late this is. And no worries about God-modding! Should you need it again, you have my permission to do whatever you want to Keagon in the thread! xD ))