corrupting minds { artemis }

His first deployment. It was Sam's first deployment since he'd joined the Peacekeepers just a few months ago, his first time away from District 10...

And they sent him to District 1.

The majority of his comrades were from Career districts themselves, and weren't especially impressed (or at the very least, surprised) by the grandeur of the wealthiest district in Panem. For Sam, though, and the handful of other Peacekeepers that hailed from poorer districts like him, were utterly blown away by the contrast. In his case, the difference between a dusty grassland with neighbors miles apart, everyone knowing everyone and the biggest structure for miles being the occasional silo...

And a brightly-lit, bustling, gleaming city of glass and stone and steel populated by the idle, beautiful wealthy.

Being on duty in this place was torture; Sam wanted to take it all in, run down every street to explore the sights, the sounds, and the people.

Sam watched the Hunger Games like everyone else did, and there was no shortage of filler footage of the Capitolites so wildly and colorfully dressed they looked more like they belonged in a zoo than on the streets. Even during the Reapings, the footage of the crowds in the Career districts tended not to linger long enough to get a good look at faces; District 1 wasn't quite as avant garde, but they were no less decadent than the Capitol.

Hair of wild colors, heavy makeup on both men and women, tattoos and piercings and jewelry that shone with gems and precious metals whose worth probably exceeded any amount of money Sam had ever seen in his life.

And someone up in the chain of command saw nothing wrong with letting a simple country boy --who had never been away from home prior to the Academy-- run largely unattended through this lavish palace of a city.

What could possibly go wrong.

Off-duty, Sam had been up with the sun (more out of habit from working the ranch than any military drill) and had been walking for hours just looking at the sights; he was positive he stuck out like a sore thumb, with his plain clothes and none-too-subtle District 10 drawl when asking for directions. The elderly usually found him charming. Children unabashedly walked up to him asking why he sounded funny.

Men and women his own age, more often than not, looked at him like he'd sprouted a second head.

It didn't matter. No one had come up trying to pick a fight (so far that honor had remained relegated to District 2) with him, and even if they had there was a shining new Peacekeeper badge clipped to his belt and hidden under his shirt. Sam hadn't felt the need to take his sidearm along; he'd taken on Careers as sparring partners at the Academy, and had punched out another Career back in what he supposed was now his new home district.

He could handle anything that came at him.

The sun was going down, bringing Sam to the end of a rather large loop he'd been walking in; one thing he had discovered, rather mournfully, was that as beautiful as this place was when night fell and the lights came on... Sam couldn't see the stars. He'd spent many nights growing up sleeping under the stars, pointing out to Abel where the constellations where or meteors when they streaked through the sky.

Sam wondered what Abel would think of this place.

Feet sore from the countless many miles he'd covered over the span of the day in his still not-quite-broken-in boots, he wandered into the only park he'd been able to locate. Most of the children had gone home for the night, but a handful of teenagers still milled around where they once played, chatting loudly and shoving each other around trying to goad a fight out of someone.

He'd noticed entirely too late as he sat at the edge of a bench that he had company.

Well, sort of. The man in question, probably no older than Sam, was stretched out nearly from end to end with just a foot or so of clearance for him to rest his weary legs. He was tattooed and pierced like many of the District 1 citizens he'd seen throughout the day, but to a much greater extent; the sleeves extended down to the knuckles of his hands, over his shoulders and had even claimed part of his neck. No one in District 10 had tattoos, they were strictly a Capitol or Career fashion statement, but Sam couldn't help but be fascinated by them.

Sam startled as the boy on the bench next to him suddenly opened his eyes; there was an apology in his mouth in an instant, though he quickly swallowed it as the other boy slowly and deliberately got up, visibly angry at the intrusion.

"I am so glad you choose to sit on this bench out of the three others- I mean it was not like I was using this one. Like, not at all. I was just laying on here cause I wasn't using it, like thats not why people lie on benches right?"

He'd never been one to shy away from a few unkind words (provided they weren't directed at Momma or Abel) or a scowl, but Sam opted to hold his tongue while the guy --very sarcastically-- laid into him for apparently choosing the wrong bench to rest his weary legs at. Sam hadn't exactly been looking to see whether or not this one had been occupied; an honest mistake, but with the acidity of the tattooed and pierced guy's words, you'd think he'd just committed some grievous offense.

For all he knew, it might be. Granted, Sam had only been to District 2 outside of his home, but thus far each district was completely different from the others; the Academy didn't exactly teach culture shock.

"Beggin' yer pardon," He replied soothingly, ducking his head remorsefully but unable to keep the mirth from his eyes; the buzz of exploring this shining metropolis of glass and steel was nowhere near wearing off yet. "Didn't realize you was here, I didn't mean to disturb ya."

The boy got to his feet, pushing his hair back out of his face and glowering down at him with a disdain that made Sam question whether he was about to leave or start a fight.

... and then he sat back down, his body language suddenly open as he sat back down, facing Sam this time with an expression he didn't know what to think about.

"Sorry but what was your name?"

So... apology accepted?

"Sam." He replied simply; as much as he loved the traveling aspect that came with being in the military, Sam never much felt the need to announce his status as a Peacekeeper. "An' yerself?"

With any luck, if this strange boy with the exotic-looking piercings and ink had taken Sam's apology, he might be willing to tell him some of the backstory behind his tattoos.