wanna make an effort | [mackenzie/avriel]
Aug 30, 2023 15:13:05 GMT -5
Post by dars on Aug 30, 2023 15:13:05 GMT -5
He always hated hospitals. Everything was just always so... clean. Growing up in the middle of Panem's most forested district probably had something to do with it, he decided, hands in his pockets while he waited in line, swaying back and forth on the balls of his feet.
"Ah, Mr. Pryce-" the nurse behind the counter said as he stepped up- "Still no update, I'm afraid. No news is good news!"
He grumbled. Torian was scheduled for release at 11 am, and it was clear that no amount of pestering this year would help speed up that process. He supposed every situation was different, but kids were resilient. He was okay. He had to be- the Capitol wouldn't let anything bad happen at the very least because they needed their victor. Whether Torian, or even the boy from Ten who would've won instead were who the Capitol wanted wasn't a factor anymore. Torian was the last one standing.
Mackenzie turned, made his way back to the end of the short hallway, took a seat in an otherwise completely empty room, twiddled his thumbs and hummed along to the new Paris VB music video playing on the monitor next to some step-by-step infomercial about lower back surgery.
The doors opened, and before anyone could even step through them Mackenzie was already on his feet. Instead of the doctors he was hoping to see, though, he was puzzled to find Avriel Baptiste stepping out of the elevator and into the infirmary.
The last time they'd spoken, Avriel was standing next to Aspen's grave and Mackenzie threatened to have him kicked out of the District. To be fair, after that Games he had returned to Seven to a failing marriage and a toddler with an over-curiosity for death. Getting Aspen back home would have been a mercy granted to him at any point as a mentor, but particularly in a time when no other mercies seemed to be coming his way. Seeing the reason it didn't work out standing over her final resting place at that point had been too much for him to swallow down.
That was over half a decade ago, though. And after all, the kid had only been trying to survive.
"Uh, hey."
He recognized the awkwardness that came with the situation, but ultimately it was a necessary feeling if Mackenzie wanted their last conversation to be something different. He gestured toward the front desk.
"The, um- He's not out yet. They said he's doing well so far, though."
A quiet beat. While Mackenzie was well-aware he wasn't a great communicator, he always found it particularly difficult to get a read on Avriel. He couldn't tell if the other victor hated awkward silences any more than he, but eventually Mackenzie's own discomfort won out, so he spoke further, trying to sound kind, interested.
"Did you meet him before the Games, or?"
"Ah, Mr. Pryce-" the nurse behind the counter said as he stepped up- "Still no update, I'm afraid. No news is good news!"
He grumbled. Torian was scheduled for release at 11 am, and it was clear that no amount of pestering this year would help speed up that process. He supposed every situation was different, but kids were resilient. He was okay. He had to be- the Capitol wouldn't let anything bad happen at the very least because they needed their victor. Whether Torian, or even the boy from Ten who would've won instead were who the Capitol wanted wasn't a factor anymore. Torian was the last one standing.
Mackenzie turned, made his way back to the end of the short hallway, took a seat in an otherwise completely empty room, twiddled his thumbs and hummed along to the new Paris VB music video playing on the monitor next to some step-by-step infomercial about lower back surgery.
The doors opened, and before anyone could even step through them Mackenzie was already on his feet. Instead of the doctors he was hoping to see, though, he was puzzled to find Avriel Baptiste stepping out of the elevator and into the infirmary.
The last time they'd spoken, Avriel was standing next to Aspen's grave and Mackenzie threatened to have him kicked out of the District. To be fair, after that Games he had returned to Seven to a failing marriage and a toddler with an over-curiosity for death. Getting Aspen back home would have been a mercy granted to him at any point as a mentor, but particularly in a time when no other mercies seemed to be coming his way. Seeing the reason it didn't work out standing over her final resting place at that point had been too much for him to swallow down.
That was over half a decade ago, though. And after all, the kid had only been trying to survive.
"Uh, hey."
He recognized the awkwardness that came with the situation, but ultimately it was a necessary feeling if Mackenzie wanted their last conversation to be something different. He gestured toward the front desk.
"The, um- He's not out yet. They said he's doing well so far, though."
A quiet beat. While Mackenzie was well-aware he wasn't a great communicator, he always found it particularly difficult to get a read on Avriel. He couldn't tell if the other victor hated awkward silences any more than he, but eventually Mackenzie's own discomfort won out, so he spoke further, trying to sound kind, interested.
"Did you meet him before the Games, or?"
