FENG, AVOX

✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ
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5,831 POSTS
Pronouns: they/them
last seen Apr 17, 2024 14:37:45 GMT -5

“And now that you don't have to be perfect, you can be good.” - steinbeck

FENG, AVOX Sept 13, 2014 3:16:43 GMT -5

Post by ✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ on Sept 13, 2014 3:16:43 GMT -5

SURPRISE BITCH, BET YOU
THOUGHT YOU'D SEEN THE LAST OF ME

N a m e : FENG
A g e : ~~SIXTEEN~~ SEVENTEEN
G e n d e r : MALE
L o c a t i o n : CAPITOL
F a c e c l a i m : HUANG ZITAO
J o b : HAHAHAHA
S o n g : MIND OVER MATTER - YOUNG THE GIANT
P l o t : THE SOCIETY
C o d e w o r d : odair

Last Edit: Mar 7, 2015 2:59:10 GMT -5 by ✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

compendium / avriel
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✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ
Graphics

5,831 POSTS
Pronouns: they/them
last seen Apr 17, 2024 14:37:45 GMT -5

“And now that you don't have to be perfect, you can be good.” - steinbeck

FENG, AVOX Oct 2, 2014 2:41:11 GMT -5

Post by ✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ on Oct 2, 2014 2:41:11 GMT -5

He is a creature born in captivity, an exhibit groomed and styled to fit the ideals of the Capital's populace. Truthfully, he does not know the taste of freedom, has never felt it in the first place. He used to dream about the stars at night, what they were up in the sky. He often lusted over the freedom that the shining lights seemed to promise. However, the thing about stars is that a lot of them have been gone for a long time but the reason the light still shines is because the star was so far away; the light is still travelling. It isn't that the night sky is free, it's that it's already dead. It is vacant and lustful, it beckons and croons without a voice, as does he, as does he.

He is a fixed point, his fate decided by others rather than himself. He has never had a choice because pets do not get to choose what they do. A slave doesn't have a voice, physically and mentally. It does as it is told, nothing more, nothing less. A man chooses, a slave obeys, and obey he does, beautifully. Many have commented on the excellent domestication of the Avox boy, even as they lift his lips to check the state of his teeth and therefore his health. Physically he is kept well, make no doubt about that. Mentally he has been broken before the idea of rebellion could dare flourish. There is no doubt that he is a fine specimen.

His master is a man who dwells far too much in the past, in a time when men were dogs and women were less than the hounds they deigned to control. The Avox he keeps are either trained or dead, he does not allow any toes to step out of line, neither does he believe in the idea that an Avox can have free thought, as far as he is concerned the only idea an Avox can hold is how to serve his master better.

He prefers only the freshest of and youngest of Avox for his household. They are easier to control when they are young, easier to instill his ideals into. Each young Avox is put through rigorous exercise and training. The master is convinced that one day the Capitol will fall and the only army he will have will be his household. Consequently, each member is trained in the martial arts. Like dogs they are expected to know their tricks well and are tested often.

Feng was a prodigy before he even knew what the word meant. He was Avoxed young after his parents had been killed during a Peacekeeper raid to the seam in District Twelve. There had been fire that night; sometimes he still dreams of it burning him up, eating the world around him up in giant bites. He knew life without a tongue, without freedom at the age of seven and a half years old. When he had stood in lineup they told him he was not allowed to wear his shirt and he had to stand quietly or he would be killed. The elderly man beside him signed him some words of comfort that he did not understand and Feng was discomforted by the many scars that criss-crossed the old man's back.

He had been chosen quickly because he was young and the master's house is the only home he can truly remember now. Sleeping was done in two giant rooms separated by wood and paper doors that slid to the left and right. They each were allotted a bed mat and a blanket, a pillow too much to ask for. One side was for the children, the other for the adults. When it was the winter the children would sleep bundled up together because f they didn't then the cold would freeze them. Sleeping was often done in a dog pile when he was still young and the girl's chests were undeveloped, when no one knew what fucking was yet.

Sometimes it would be difficult at night because kids would cry, especially the younger ones. They wanted their moms but the likelihood was that their mothers were dead or Avoxed themselves and therefore impossible to find again. Sometimes the older kids would take them under their wing, sometimes the kid would cry themselves to sleep. Other times the partitioning doors would be pushed open and the older Avoxes would come through to hold the child, to comfrot them as best they could.

Usually everyone was too tired to even cry at night because they'd be up at the crack of dawn to train and clean. Everyone had to do at least three hours of training a day and the rest of the time was spent on chores. Sometimes the children would get a break to rest but often not because the master's property was so large that there was too much to do. Feng was in charge of the master's floorboards in the seemingly enormous dining room. He scrubbed them from one end of the room to the other every second day, waxing the wood on the other days. There was a girl to help him as well but he never knew what her name was because every time he signed the question at her she would hand him a different flower. So to Feng, she was simply flower girl.

Their knees went raw from the effort of cleaning everyday and sometimes they would sit together at night and she would tell him stories with her hands as he cried from the pain of it. She had been excellent at stories, even though she couldn't weave words with her lips, she was good at making them with her hands. It made it easier to be alive with stories like her to look forward to at night.

Feng liked the training that they would have to do, starting so early in the morning that sometimes the sun had not yet risen when they were roused awake and sent into the courtyard to begin. Sometimes they could see their own breath in front of their faces because of how cold it was. Moving made the cold better, made it less so that it didn't hurt so much when his fingers and toes went numb. They'd run and sparr with each other, carry buckets heavy with well water and jump over obstacles built just for that purpose.

Feng did not know what it was for, only that he did not have a choice. He didn't question it because by the time he was nine years old he could barely remember a time when he hadn't been in his master's house. Sometimes he would wake up at night, sweating all over and the horrible smell of burning flesh still caught in his nose but the imagery and feeling would go away quickly and he would fall back asleep. He'd wake up in the morning having forgotten the experience by then already. Memory became nightmare and nightmare became dreams.

The fear of fire lingered. He stays away from the bonfires that the Avox are allowed to have in the courtyard on the coldest of nights, knowing rationally that the fire is contained, terrified internally that they are all going to burn to death. Sometimes he watches from the sleeping room, blankets wrapped around him and the wooden doors slid open to see the outside. Flower girl would sit with him then and she'd lay out rows of daisies for him to look at, trying to get his mind off of the flames.

When he was eleven he stopped having to do housework and was allowed to only focus on his training. The master of the house was very interested in the development of the young men and women. Some were deemed unfit as warriors and were sentenced to remain inside, cooking and cleaning for the Master. He and his flower girl were separated.

Then they taught him how to kill.

It started out small with frogs at first. They'd catch them in the garden and were made to pin them into the dirt through the stomach. They had to sit there and watch it struggle to break free until it died. Training went fast though, they were not allowed a moment to mourn the frog. The very next day they were given a rabbit, the day after that a kitten, the day after that a dog, the day after that a snake, the day after that a bird, the day after that a fox until one day they were each handed a knife and given a partner and told to kill each other.

Feng was thirteen years old and the boy he was matched to fight was one he had known for six years, they had slept together in a giant pile in the winter and stargazed in the summer. They had eaten every meal together for six years and one time when Feng had broken his arm, the other boy had piggy backed him all the way back to the house while Feng cried.

This didn't stop the other boy from lunging at him and making a wide cut down his arm when he instinctively rose it to block the attack. Whatever connection they had before this moment was lost, all that there was were the orders that they were given and the sounds of pain erupting from the battle all around them. Feng was uncertain what this proved but his arm hurt and he didn't want to die so he fought back and later that night when he sat up on his mat and the room was half empty, the Flower Girl laid roses out on top of his blanket and she held his head safe and warm for him while he cried into her lap.

The next day they were moved onto the adult side of the split room and twenty new young Avox were sleeping in the room that they had just vacated. The adults that used to sleep on their new side of the room were gone to another section of the house, graduated from having to care for the children, the cycle moving onward.

Feng was always cold after that, he could never seem to stay warm no matter how often his Flower Girl would take his hand in hers and rub, creating friction. Even when they were training, running around the courtyard he felt cold, like he was a hollow thing made of glass.

They were allowed to bury the dead in an unmarked grave in the corner of the master's property. Some of the girls cried and the boys wanted to but they had been the ones to kill them and they were warriors so they couldn't. Feng felt guilt, drinking from him, taking out all of his insides and filling him up with a rawness so thick that it howled when he touched it. A slave obeys. A man chooses. He was a slave.

Things were easier somehow, after that revelation.

He was not a man.

In his fifteenth year he was lost in a bet to a wealthy woman. The master was angry, saying that he had been tricked out of his Avox but the master had always had a gambling problem and this time he had gone too far. His Avox were his prized possessions and he was so angry to see Feng leave that the week before he was retrieved his master branded him on his chest with the house insignia, as if to mark his property. Although he had undergone training to put aside pain, the white hot scorch of the metal terrified him, the smell of his flesh burning made his eyes roll into the back of his head and he passed out from the wilderness of the beast.

The night before he left there was a daffodil on his pillow and the Flower girl was missing, nowhere to be found.

When his Mistress took him, she clapped her hands with glee and the intensity of her gaze scared him. She was looking for something he did not have and even though he turned out his pockets she demanded it of him. That very afternoon he was brought to an old manor, where there resided an older man who stuck a bit of plastic to his face and pumped him full of gas.

When Feng woke up it was two days later and to a different face. Horror made his lips numb as he was allowed to stare at himself in the mirror. His face had been changed drastically. No longer were his eyes a golden brown, but they were dark. His chin was sharper, hair lighter, a soft white. It was shaved on the sides, as if the hair were very important. His nose was more pointed, his lips thicker, like he had a pout.

He held his hands out in front of him and were surprised to see that they were changed too; they were longer, more spindly. His skin felt like it didn't fit right. Nothing did.

When his Mistress collected him from the manor she would not stop gleefully clapping her hands, muttering something about how she wanted to collect all of them. From there, Feng's life of servitude and slavery truly seemed to begin. He still was made to train strenuously, apparently his ability was what had made him so desirable an Avox in the first place. However, his duties were also to attend small parties held at the older man's house.

Sometimes at these parties his mistress would command a display of his abilities and the dance floor would be cleared, the other Avox moved out of the way so that he could perform his trained skills. Other times he would be offered to other masters and mistresses, they would take him from the party, to somewhere quiet and secluded and he would give himself to them as to his mistress' wishes. Other times, the masters or mistresses would place him with another Avox or two and then they would watch them. If they didn't comply they were threatened with death.

Feng felt dirty, used.

He was able to eek out the purpose of the nightly parties early on when they played the games reruns in the background and saw his face looking out at him from behind the camera. It was then that he understood whose face he wore; that of a dead boy. He watched, mouth slightly open, enamored at the strength the boy had. His emotions were burning, emotion intense. Feng fell in love with the image of who he was meant to be.

Watching him die was horrible and eerie. It was like seeing his future.

He was cold and tired. He missed the flowers that used to appear on his bed and he couldn't sleep well at night because it was too quiet in the tiny little cupboard of a room that he had to himself outside of his new mistress' chambers.

However, a slave obeys.

{ We know the fire awaits unbelievers
All of the sinners the same
Girl, you and I will die unbelievers
Bound to the tracks of the train ;

Last Edit: Oct 2, 2014 4:24:39 GMT -5 by ✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

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✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ Graphics 5,831 POSTS Pronouns: they/them last seen Apr 17, 2024 14:37:45 GMT -5 “And now that you don't have to be perfect, you can be good.” - steinbeck	FENG, AVOX Oct 2, 2014 4:25:13 GMT -5 Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by ✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ on Oct 2, 2014 4:25:13 GMT -5 done! uwu
	compendium / avriel clown car / pietro 2022 tracker / 2023 tracker / 2024 tracker

garnet beauford d8 [earthling] Administrator 9,452 POSTS Pronouns: She/Her last seen Apr 16, 2024 15:07:24 GMT -5 cameron stood in line for an hour for a stupid ride for me <3 best <3	FENG, AVOX Oct 2, 2014 12:30:52 GMT -5 Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by garnet beauford d8 [earthling] on Oct 2, 2014 12:30:52 GMT -5 Dark and lovely <3 ACCEPTED!
	credit gamemaker 💀 hades lochlan credit ✨ - chars -