in disgrace | gm jovis azzaro (post-games)

J O V I S.

Jovis did not expect the catastrophe that occurred in the Ninth Hunger Games to be this poorly received. He even told Tegan this when she expressed her worries. He was shocked to see the adrenaline subside into disdain and a horrible display of booing. Immediately following the recovery of Blair Murdock from the destruction, he was summoned by the higher-ups of the Capitol. Even when he was offered the position, it was done through indirect channels, ordered by people he'd never met until now.

A pair of Peacekeepers escort him through the back exit of the stadium and toward the car. He enters the back seat, sliding over the leather to reach the side with more legroom. The door slams shut without a word, leaving him alone in the car for a couple of minutes while the driver and Peacekeepers discuss instructions outside. Jovis pulls the sleeves of his uniform down. The heat of the Colosseum and the coldness of this car could not be any more opposite. When the driver opens the door, the first thing he does is ask to turn off the air. "I mean, seriously. Just because it's a hot July afternoon doesn't mean I want to be locked up in a freezer. Turn that down, won't you?" There's little reaction from his escort. The two drive in silence to the skyscrapers of the Capitol's center.

Upon exiting the vehicle, Jovis pulls a pair of light round glasses from his pocket and sticks them in front of his eyes. A layer of professionalism for whatever this conversation might be. He's got quite the resume of authority as the deputy warden of the rebels' prison, but he's still only thirty-one. In comparison to the decades lived by President Ironsquall, that's nothing. And considering the response to the collapse, he may need that extra level of maturity.

Arms at his side, the pair of Peacekeeper escorts move him up staircases, elevators, and inclines to one of the top floors of the buildings. To his surprise, there's a lack of, well, everything. The walls are either black or grey with little to no decoration. By his guess, this isn't a trip to the President's penthouse. By the third stairwell, he's nervous. Jovis stiffens, the beat of his heart punching at his neck.

Finally, they reach a door that has more than just stairs. Two people are sitting on one side of a desk, and a chair for him on the other. The Head Peacekeeper and Chief of Capitol Peacekeeping Operations. Jovis clears his throat, the speck of hope that this would be a good conversation of praise and congratulations subsiding in exchange for stern stares from both sides.

"Mr. Azzaro, the spectacle that occurred in the Hunger Games early this afternoon was not acceptable. It tainted the Capitol's image."

"With all due respect, sir, I think that what happened, which was an accident, created the most exhilarating viewing experience for the Hunger Games yet. It opens up doors and opportunities for great things in the future."

"We do not see it that way. Both you and Dr. Ezra were given strict instructions, and you, pardon my language, fucked it up."

"We killed twenty-three children, did we not? Is that not the punishment the districts have been ordered?"

"Yes. You killed them. Instead of making the districts become enemies with each other, you've made yourself their enemy. Such an image is not acceptable."

"Respectfully, I just don't see what the problem is. We got what we wanted."

"The cost of the Colosseum's collapse also puts a great burden on the Capitol. Such destruction has to have some sort of punishment."

Jovis scratches his knee nervously. Punishment in this world usually means two things: imprisonment or death. There's no rules-lawyering his way out of this. "And what sort of punishment are you suggesting? My family has been loyal to you all through the Dark Days. Dozens of them died fighting for your cause– our cause."

"We intend on being lenient for that exact reason. We're allowing you to leave the Capitol quietly tomorrow morning. You'll have today to gather some belongings and decide where you'll go."

"Oh! Well, I suppose that's…" he pauses, "...reasonable." It's not reasonable at all. They should be thanking him and Tegan for the innovation they've brought to the Games, the doors they have opened. "District Two seems the most favorable. It's probably the best place for my wife and son to go to."

"Your family will remain here, Mr. Azzaro."

Jovis's muscles tighten as he leans forward. "I'm sorry, what?"

"If District Two is where you'd prefer to go, we can have that transport ready before daybreak tomorrow."

"I'm not going anywhere without my family! You're kidding right?" He wants to get up and strangle both of them, right here, right now. Perhaps he should. He points his finger accusingly. "You should be grateful. I should be in paradise for what I did for you. The terror we've given to the districts is invaluable! And you want to send me away without my family? Bullshit."

"You are not a genius, Mr. Azzaro. You're a disgrace at best and should be grateful for allowing you to step away quietly. Travel between the districts is restricted, as you know. We cannot have a comingling between Capitol and District blood."

Jovis tenses up once more, this time with no rebuttal. Again, this is not an argument one can simply talk their way out of. The thought of leaving his life at home sickens him. He's his mother's last living child, a shining star and crown jewel of the Azzaro name. He hadn't even thought of how they might feel over the ordeal if they viewed him just as distastefully now as everyone else. In creating something great, every other piece of him has been destroyed.

It's dark by the time he gets home. His mother waves him in, mentioning just how proud she is of him for his accomplishments today. "Even if it's not how you envisioned it." Jovis hugs her, perhaps for the final time. "Thank you. I'm proud, too."

He flicks the lights on in his bedroom. Laheira, his wife, sleeping with Jevid, their son, not too far away, quiet in his crib. Jovis is delicate with every drawer that he opens, taking clothes and stuffing them into bags. Clothes. Picture Frames. Family heirlooms. Jewels. The unknown, even in a place as loyal to the Capitol as Two, scares him. The jewels should be enough to support himself while he finds his footing. The three bags make their way, one by one, down the stairs and toward the gates for when he leaves in the morning. When all is done, he looks at the clock. Two in the morning. Jovis slides under the sheets, embracing his wife from behind. He loves her hair, soft and sweet. He loves her. And their son. What would the Peacekeepers do if he brought them in the morning? Turn them back? Say no? Or worse, hurt them?

"Jovis?" Laheira whispers softly.

"My love. Oh, my love."

"What's all this attention for?"

"My love, I'm so sorry." Jovis's thumb rubs against her shoulder. He doesn't want to talk. He wants to take it all in while he still has it. All the sleeping around, those men and women don't compare to Laheira and the family they've created. "I messed up. They're taking me away tomorrow."

The silence tells the story of a woman who is devastated but not surprised. Jovis tells her of the conditions and how he'll likely never see her again. He's interested in her resignation to reality, but then again, forcing others to accept things has always been a strength of their homeland.

"May I make one request?"

"Of course. What do you need?"

'Raise our boy to be strong. A leader. A man who does not let himself be manipulated. Use your maiden name, if you find mine to be tainted by what catastrophe they blame me for. Do whatever it takes."

"Jevid Novara…"

"Hopefully we'll be able to speak somehow. And see each other again, if I can help it. You know how important family is to me."

"Family is everything."

Jovis shuts his eyes, pulling her in closer to sleep. "Family is everything."

A man knocks on their door in the morning, the sun barely poking through the opening between their shades. "Mr. Azzaro." It wakes both him and Laheira, although neither slept much in their last night stand. He rises. One last kiss on the forehead for his son, too young to ever remember this moment. "I love you, my sweet boy."

He kisses Laheira on the cheek before opening the door to leave his home.

Forever.