In Silence We Speak [Cass]

You sit in the darkness of your cell, amusing yourself with the thought that someone had managed to put you in here. Everything had gone to plan before, but somewhere along the line you had slipped up. How had you managed to not notice that there was someone there, since that would have been the only reason that you could have been caught. It was too late to get after yourself now, you were in here and would be for a while. You might even lose your tongue and be shipped off to the Capitol. That was, if they even wanted an avox that knew how to kill.

The shadows that you sat in hid the rest of the room from you, but you had already figured out the layout without much noise since you had been thrown in here shortly before night fell. There were two metal shelves, one of which you sat on, that were called beds. You disagreed with the name, instead thinking that they should be called plates because you were supposed to lay on them and wait to be served to the peacekeeper that would interrogate you. Why not call yourself a stuffed turkey and make the metaphor complete. A metal sink was on the wall at the head of the two plates - as you were going to think of them from now on - and beside it was a metal bucket that you had a reasonable guess as to its use. It had at least been cleaned out since the last occupant, but there was no disguising the fact that there was no other use for it. You certainly wouldn't be using it to hold water, not the kind you drank anyway. The sink didn't do much for you, but then again it would serve as your bath and water source for the duration of your stay - however long that might be.

They hadn't been all that gentle throwing you in here, but then again as an accused murderer they had no reason to like you. Still, after how many times you could have been held accountable for a mysterious death you supposed that it merely had taken them enough time to find you. It had been a fun chase until now, but the next leg of the race was still set to start and you wanted to be at the front of the pack. Now that you knew their tricks it would make you even harder to track, and you knew your parents loved it when you improved. Not to mention that they had also trained you in case anything like this happened, making sure you were able to withstand the harsh interrogation techniques used by the peacekeepers when dealing with people like you. It wouldn't be easy to make you talk, and even when they did who would know if what you said was what they wanted to hear or what you wanted them to want to hear.

The silence was nice, most of the other people who were in cells on your floor being asleep. Of course, it helped that the cell across from you was unoccupied. It was things like this that were the reason why you loved the night, the wonderful silence and shadows that made your life challenging and easy at the same time. The conflicted difficulties of your tasks meant you would enjoy something entirely different each time, and you reveled in overcoming a new obstacle. This confinement was just another obstacle for you to overcome. Besides, what proof did they have that you had even done it. It would take them showing you some hard evidence before you might even consider that they really had you. After all, with a rich family like yours they could just buy your way out. It was one of the perks of having a family that knew their way through every law, picking out loopholes and exploiting them was the name of the game in your house. The more loopholes you could find, the more you could get away with.

The clatter of people on the stairs makes you flick your eyes towards them in vague interest. Perhaps someone would be thrown into the cell across from you, or maybe they were being let out. It was hard to tell whether the steps were coming down the stairs or going up them. One nice thing about being in the cell closest to the stairs, and on the middle floor, was that you got to see all of the people that went though at one time or another. Still, watching petty criminals traipse up and down the stairs wasn't exactly the most entertaining thing, but it was something. From the sound of it you knew you would see whoever it was in a moment.

Sure enough, the footsteps got closer and louder until a peacekeeper and a young man. The criminal, for surely that was what he was with the way the peacekeeper was keeping a firm grip on him, looked to be your age though any discernible features were washed away by the only light source - the peacekeeper's flashlight. You would have to wait until the morning to see exactly what he looked like, but for now you would just watch as they tossed him into the cell across from you before going to sleep. Only that wasn't what happened, for the peacekeeper now did a juggling act to keep the flashlight lit, the criminal secure, and grab his keys. If it had been him in the peacekeeper's grasp he would have slipped away by now. Where was the guy's partner anyway, you remembered that they normally worked in pairs - in order to hold you they had had to have two guys hold you while a third managed doors. It was odd to see one peacekeeper without the other to guard his back.

It took you a moment to see that the peacekeeper was now trying to unlock the door to your cell, instead of the empty one. Not sure if it was a mistake or not, you sat quiet as you watched the awkward proceedings. Finally, your door opened and the peacekeeper shoved the younger man in, slamming the door as quickly behind him as he could. It amused you to see how much the guard struggled even now to get everything in order as he locked the door and went back up the stairs. If only there were more people like him around, you would have been long gone from here. You nodded your head to your new cellmate and lay back on your plate, placing your hands under your head as you stared at the ceiling. There was no option for which side of the room was his, you had already laid your claim.

Silently, you turn your head so you can look at the newcomer. Who cares what he thought of you, but who was he. You had no problem with what type of crime he committed - after all you had literally lived with criminals - but knowing who they had stuck you with would give you the opportunity to plan whether to help him while you escaped, or to use him as the distraction that would get you out. He could stay quiet if he wanted, just as long as he didn't try to take your half of the cell. You liked your space, and he would learn that soon enough. Some people might offer a warning, but you didn't do warnings - that was your great uncle's thing - so people were left to figure it out on there own. You weren't cruel - after all you didn't lunge at him and beat the message into him before he had a chance to learn for himself - you just weren't much of a talker. The thought brought a thin smile to your face as you realized that was a lesson that not just your new friend here would have to learn.