𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐀𝐃𝐎 ── ❝She wore death with pride, finding comfort and it's warm embrace.❞
── In which Echo Lightbourne fights to
survive her games and the many
others waiting to be play...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
❝ Hell raising, hair raising I'm ready for the worst ❞
── au/ra
— THE AIR THE ROOM POSSESSED FELT TENSE, SHIVERS CASCADING DOWN THE TRIBUTE'S SPINES. Everyone sat inside a small waiting area, anticipating their long-awaited evaluations, anxious. Echo was one of many who felt the nerves get the better of her, the blonde's hands refusing to quit trembling.
Training had passed the girl in one huge blur, having spent most of her time in the training center, picking up new skills. However, Echo's improvements heavily relied on the swords that caught her eye during the first day of training. She wasn't the best, but the blonde knew how to defend herself, or better, she knew how to buy herself some time. Yet Echo, couldn't help but feel discouraged, knowing the other tributes seated around the cramped room were far more prepared than her.
"District Four: Echo Lightbourne, report for individual assessment." Echo slowly pushed herself off her seat at the sound of the robotic voice, taking in a deep breath as she left the room with her head held high.
When she finally stepped inside the grand room, Echo's eyes instantly spotted the Gamemakers, who were all seated on an elevated platform, eating and laughing. No one had even noticed that the blonde was standing below, the Gamemakers seeming preoccupied.
However, knowing time during assessments is limited, Echo worked on creating a trap, alining everything perfectly. When finally finished, the blonde took a dummy and threw it onto the trap she had created, the nets snatching the manikin and trapping it with layers of nets. Content with her work, Echo turned to see the Gamemaker's reactions, only frowning when she noticed a few saw the contraption she created, everyone eventually turned around to talk to each other again, seeming bored by the girl's rather simple skill.
The remaining remnants of Echo's patience suddenly began to dwindle. Her mentors had hammered the point that scores mattered vastly in the Hunger Games. Get a high score you would be viewed as a threat, score lowly, you instantly become prey, meaning the blonde had to receive an above-average score, it was vital.
Echo eyed a rack not too far from her that contained varieties of swords, an idea growing inside her mind. Quickly, the blonde turned on her heel and marched towards the rack. She instantly picked up a shiny, broad sword, making sure she dragged the blade onto the floor, the screeching and uncomfortable sound the weapon created, catching all the Gamemaker's attention, all of them seeming annoyed by the sudden disturbance.
Echo found herself smirking at their reactions, the ear-numbing sound only stopping when she stood in front of the dummies. They were all separated, and the blonde eyed the manikins heads deep in thought.
