>(Acquaintances)< [Semper;Closed]

Some guy walks up. He doesn't look like the average Capitolite. In fact, I doubt that he's from the capitol. He's grungy, hefty and looks like he's had a few shrooms or so. Ugh. I almost recoil at the smell of the older man's breath - it's disgusting. What, has he not brushed his teeth like, ever? I shiver at the thought of not having personal hygiene. It must be disgusting to be someone with greasy hair and oily skin.

I was wrong - The Avox's eyes aren't blue. They're an odd hazel-ish color. It seems really odd that I'm going to have to start commanding him to do things. To be honest, I'd rather just go off and see the world than have an Avox. But my parents are just... really annoying.

"Honey, we can go to District 10 on our vacation! Why not get an Avox instead?"

"Eww sweetie, why would you want to go there? I want to go to the 53rd Arena."

"But we went there for our honeymoon!"

"Alright alright! I'll get a freaking avox! Just stop talking!"

I cringe at the thought of having my parents meet... what's his name again? Oh right, Desperoux... no that's not it.

But anyways, the grungy smelly man hands me some keys. I assume that they're for the handcuffs wrapped around... my avox's... hands.

Speaking of hands, what... what happened? Is that blood? Is he depressed or something? Will he try to jump out of a window as soon as we reach the top floor of the apartment? Normally I'd consider myself lucky that I have a penthouse, but if he's going to jump... Well not only would I have to pay for a new window, but he'd be dead. And that wouldn't be pretty.

I'm forced to sign a bunch of papers now. At this point in the... I'll call it adoption... I'm too stressed out about the possible window damages and possible deaths of avoxes to really pay attention to the form. But I skim it over anyways. It looks pretty good, except I'm going to have to negotiate on the price... I don't have enough money.

So after a few minutes of haggling, I manage to get Devroux for free. I guess a little kiss on the cheek isn't so revolting. The peppermint-hair girl giggles like a little schoolgirl when my lips meet her cheek. I wonder if she gets this often...

But anyways, we're out of that blindingly white light. People are wandering about, watching the games on the television. I turn to watch the D5 girl being stabbed in the stomach by some hybrid-horse thing. What's it called, a hyord? Yeah, that's it. Two districts are out of the running now. Districts 5 and 10, I think.

I walk across the street, gesturing to the avox to follow. It's empty right now - this street has been closed because so many people mill around here to watch the games. The city circle is more popular, but it quickly get filled up, causing annoyance. I groan. I really should be working... I don't need a day off...

I get into the driver's seat of my red car. It's older than others, but it's a beauty. I notice that the curl in my hair's falling into my eyes again, so I brush it off.

"So... Devroux. I'm Luk, your... well you know." I mutter. This isn't morally right. I just know it.

But social status are what's needed in this dog-eat-dog-capitol-world. And I'm going to need to be the alpha male

He's not quite there yet. Has he acutally never seen a car before? when I applied for national travelling I was denied, so I've never seen the districts except for during the reaping, when I was sent to District 1 to record the event. It was dreadful. The whole time, people were trying to get in front of the camera.

But what I'm trying to convey is "Don't the districts have vehicles?" I guess not, I mean it's not likely that he'd have this kind of expression on his face if he'd seen a car before.

"It's okay... Devroux, it's just a-"

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP.

The boy quickly yelps and steps back from the car, his eyes wide open. He just had to touch the side, didn't he. I'm about to groan when I see his expression yet again. He's even farther from the red vehicle, his eyes clearly showing the terror that he's facing. And I start chuckling. This kid's pretty damn funny.

"Devroux, it's just a car; people in the Capitol use it to get around faster, see?"

I quickly point out the fact that many capitolites are traveling along the roads, driving while texting, eating, etc. They're going to get into an accident someday. Really. Which is why I never use my phone or eat while on the road - somebody's bound to smash into my tiny red vehicle.

Hopefully the boy doesn't notice all of the irresponsible driving (or at the very least, he thinks we're so skilled that we don't need both hands on the wheel to maneuver around).

But soon (or at least quickly enough that he moves before he gets run over by some woman with a ridiculous curly green afro), Devroux enters the car. I smile; it's really something, to see somebody experience something new (hopefully something good that is). Normally there's a sense of wonder in that person's eyes that's just so awesome to watch.

I turn the key, and the car starts rolling. Rush hour isn't due to start for another few hours, so the road's actually pretty clear. I'm able to keep a steady speed, which is to say, a miracle in itself.

I look at the boy. Has he even eaten anything since his captivity. I don't really know how Panem treats its Avoxes before the train ride to the capitol, so it's possible that he's extremely malnourished and dehydrated. I make a pit stop at a drive-through beverage place and get a bottle of water for him. The water's ridiculously over-priced, but water's needed more than anything at this point. At least, I think it is...

Luckily I have stuff at home to make something to eat, so we don't need to stop at one of those grotesquely unhealthy fast-food joints. I swear, the Capitol is going to become a whole load of obese people munching on fried apples.

Soon, I'm able to park the car in front of the penthouse. It's my shining haven amid all of the masses of those idiotic neighbors of mine. Unfortunately for me, the apartment has only one kitchen (it's one of those older ones. It's due to be renovated next month). It had better not be in use.

And I swear that if Mrs. Grossberg swipes my carrots one more time, there'll be hell to pay.

I enter the building, and without looking behind me, motion for the kid to sit at the table. I get out a pot, some ingredients, and soon there's a vegetable soup cooking. As long as the neighbors don't smell the broth, we're fine (they're moochers after all).

Whilst the soup is simmering, I dash into the elevator, and fly upwards to my floor. Grabbing the closest notebook, I zoom back downwards in a few seconds, stopping to say hello to a neighbor or two. I place the notebook on the table, as well as a pen.

"So Devroux... What happened?"

I'm an idiot.

Of course I would forget to unlock the poor boys' chains. My goodness, he probably would be moaning in pain if he had a tongue. But since he clearly doesn't have that, screaming and moaning is pretty much impossible. But still, I'm an oblivious moron. I move to unlock the chains, but the soup starts to overflow.

Goddamit, this isn't very good, is it. I manage to get most of the food under control, scooping the (hopefully flavorful) mixture into a large bowl, and setting it down in front of the boy. Then again, he can't even freaking eat with his hands locked together like that. I try to fathom how he even managed to drink the water that I bought him. But that's not important right now. What is important is that the boy's wrists become comfortable soon.

However, that's not possible, for the boy has already started to write on the paper, bits of blood dripping off of his wrists as he scrawls his penmanship across the paper. I look at both the blood and the hand-writing in disdain. Bad hand-writing is one of my pet peeves. How is one to become a good writer if they can't even read their words? It's stupid.

By the time the boy is finished with writing, the pad of paper has a significantly bright reddish hue to it. Swiftly, I search for the key in my pockets, but it... it's not there. I find it lying outside the door. It must have fallen from my pocket or something. But there's no time to fret about that. He's already given the pad to me, but I need to unlock his chains first. He won't run. There's nowhere to go to anymore.

The handcuffs finally lodge themselves open, and I quickly throw them into the trash chute, hearing it land with a loud clang at the bottom. I hope nobody was under that chute when the handcuffs came down. Being hit with metal is not something that people really like to have happen to them (unless of course, one is aroused by pain, but that's a different story). But now his writs are freed. Of course, they're bloodied, but free. I quickly get a spoon from a drawer. The soup has cooled enough for an avox to eat it. At least, I'm pretty sure that it's cool enough.

I take the next few minutes to decipher Devroux's chicken-writing. It's rather scratchy and hard to read - the pen was used often, and was running out of ink. But his handwriting isn't that bad. I'm able to read most of it. So let's see here...

...

.....

..........

So... that's what happened. He might have a child on the way. How old is this guy? He's not even twenty yet and he's already done more stuff than I. However, that's not important. No, not at all. I never knew how prisoners were treated... This would make an amazing story for the channel...

No. It wouldn't be right. This is Devroux's story, and his alone. I am merely a supporting character in his schemes. So what happens now? Is he to remain my avox for the rest of his life? Will I punish him for his sins? Will I let him go? We have reached a fork in the road, and my decision will affect which way we turn.

What if we were to leave the Capitol? No, that'd be ridiculous. But... we could, and then he could see that girl. There's nothing wrong with that, right? Wait, yes there is. We would be breaking the law - I'd never be able to return here ever again. I'd lose all of my earthly possessions, all of the sacred electronics would go to waste - there would probably be GPS or something to track somebody down.

... I'm acting like them, aren't I. All of my life, I've strived to be different from the stereotypical Capitolite. I was valedictorian in a world where education doesn't matter. I tried to shed light on situations that would have otherwise gone unnoticed by others. And what did that get me? A penthouse? Is that really what I'm worried about?

Gosh, I'm such a jack-ass, aren't I.

This isn't about me. This is about Devroux. And if I'm a decent human being, it would be best to help him in his quest. It would help me atone for my sins I guess. This secular world requires at least one person to do a good deed, or the world will simply crumble. Of course, the whole system of Panem is based upon killing teenagers, but that's somewhat entertaining... At least, from a Capitolite point of view.

But nevertheless, it is time for Luk Brookstein to stop being a stupid Capitolite. It's time for him to do the right thing for once. And if that means leaving all that he's ever known, so be it. He's clearly not going to trust me once I decide to help him, but that's understandable.

Who'd trust someone who watched the murder of people he may have known who didn't do anything about it?

I clear my throat as I walk towards the pantry, putting as many canned food products on the counter as possible. Actually, I grab all of them, for I've made a large food pyramid out of it. As I go get a backpack, I finally speak to the boy.

"You may not believe me, but tomorrow's going to be a big day. You're gonna see your girlfriend again, so get some rest. I live on the top floor."




(I hate you Luk, making me wait for days and then forcing me to write a LOT. You're just as bad as Gavin)

(Luk just.... what are you doing? I don't even know... This post was crap I tell you, CRAP! xP)

Backpacks.

The wonderful nylon fabric bag that holds a treasure trove of goodies feels rather heavy as I stuff can after can into it. I knew that I should have gone to the gym a little more often. I mean, I have muscles and stuff like that, but carrying what seems to be around fifteen to twenty pounds on my back was much easier when I was a teenager. Now this man is twenty-eight, and he's not getting any younger.

Ah, those good old days when I was able to go and learn about everything Panem-like. I memorized many of the muttations that were present in the games - the Capitol has a zoo you know; all of the muttations are located there. After all, the capitol loves their mutts, almost as much as they love tribute bloodshed. The fact that they go hand-and-hand makes them giddy with excitement.

But I happen to dislike some aspects of the games. Sure, the capitolites can go around, thinking that it's all in good fun, but the tributes actually die. What happens to their families, who don't have somebody to support them? What happens to their friends, who become revengeful, hatred growing in their bones as they're forced to watch their friend be mercilessly murdered on national television?

Panem is built on a faulty system. Sure, they are able to distract the rich folk, the ones who really aren't affected by the games (except for those gambling idiots). But at the same time, they're creating turmoil in the lower end of the social hierarchy. It's just like what happened in the olden times - In their attempt to become more cultured, leaders and nobles enforced harsh punishments and taxes on their increasingly serf-like populations, prompting outcry and rebellion.

So once again, Panem is skating on thin ice.

But anyways, I still have so much to do - there's the fact that we must sneak out of the capitol, along with the important fact of surviving on canned food alone. There's a slight possibility that a can-opener could become lost during the journey, and I don't want that to interfere with our health. It would be a pity if we didn't make it to District 5 due to death by starvation.

However, hunger is only one of our worries. What if we end up getting lost? Wait... Don't I have an updated atlas in my bedroom? Yes, I believe I do. It has a map of Panem, from the districts to the Capitol itself. I quickly hop onto the elevator, and zoom upwards in a flash.

I don't see the boy when I reach the top, but at the moment my mind is focused on that atlas. I quickly rush into my bedroom and grab the large book, skimming through the pages until I can find... Hmm. So there's a train crossing to that arena over there... And we can jump off, and... Yes, that is a good plan.

The 12th Annual Hunger Games took place near District 5. There's also a pit-stop smack dab in the middle of the train route to the arena itself. So if we were to sneak off while they were getting fuel... We could walk to District 5 for the rest of the way! According to the atlas, District 5 is a hundred miles from the arena, so it should take a day or two to get there. Yes, I like this plan.

I walk out of the room and I'm about to go downstairs when... Where is that boy? He didn't go falling out of a window or anything... Did he? And so begins my frantic search for Devroux, who could be just about anywhere at this point. He's not on my floor, nor on the one below that... Not that one...

What if he went and got lost?

But my fears are allayed when I finally reach the second floor. He's just sitting against the wall, sleeping. Well he must be tired after being held in captivity for so long. I smirk. He really does have his whole life ahead of him. By the time that he's my age, naps will be almost extinct.

It wouldn't be a good idea to wake him - he needs his sleep. So I bring down some blankets, as well as a note. When he wakes up, he'll hopefully find that he's warm under that large blue blanket, and there will be a note next to him as well.

We're leaving tomorrow, at noon.

The tickets are booked, and we're due to "take a vacation" to the 12th Hunger Games Arena shortly. It won't be extremely crowded - the games are in full blast, but the conductors don't even check to see who is on the train, let alone who gets off of it.

So this is it Luk Brookstein, you're finally being a decent person. Hooray for karma.