Just for fun. (open)

Nicholas Jenning

As Kurt reads, I hear the door open with a slam and someone comes in yelling about what they brought. I roll my eyes as she comes bounding in with pizza. Only pineapple pizza lovers ever announce their pizza that loud. I lean back against the bar and sip my drink until the newcomer finally seems not to notice me. She seems to be nonchalant about my being here, and I smirk as the image of me beating her to a pulp pops into my head. Normally I'm not the violent type, but I've been caged in the Capitol so long, I really want to let some aggression out.

Luckily for her, this thought may come into my head fast, but it leaves just as quickly. As Kurt turns back to me I quickly write on my notepad:

"Is this were you laugh like I've just written something really funny and insulting about your apprentice?"

Nicholas Jenning

I sigh and take a sip of the drink again. I write:

"My father was big enough they couldn't afford to lose him. Rest of family were proved innocent. Well, sister got thrown in Hunger Games and died years later, but I think that was just bad luck."

I feel a tear come to my eye as I remember my sister. We were close when together, even with so many years separating us in age. I remember teaching her at a young age how to protect herself with a knife. She was the best aim I'd ever seen, especially considering her relatively few years at the time. She probably would have lasted a few more days if she had gotten her hands on some throwing knives, but you can't have everything. Especially in the games.

I remember the apprentice, and frown. From a distance, hard to tell. She looked well muscled, and controlled herself well. She could also reed Kurt so easily. Glancing at Kurt again as he reads, I see the same muscles, but more suited to a man's build. I write a side note:

"You apprentice interests me. Would you mind calling her back? I want to see something."

Nicholas Jenning

As she walks in and Kurt tells her why he called, she tells me that's creepy. But she's trying to escape. Interesting... I've tried to escape before, in the early years. The scars on my back are nearly gone. I glance at her arms and legs, sizing her up. Fit. Healthy. I quickly scratch words on my notepad, tear out the paper, and hand it to Kurt. It reads:

"What's her I.Q.?"

I start pacing around her, inspecting. I know she'll probably make rude comments, but I don't care. After a few minutes, I get ready to write a note in reply, and wait for his answer.

Nicholas Jenning

As the girl explodes, it's clear Kurt barely stopped himself from stepping in. I wait for the outburst to end, and smile patronizingly. I write a not and hand it to her with a flourish.

"Two things. One, you, killing me? That's a laugh. And not because you're a girl. Secondly, don't make cracks about me being an Avox. I am not a slave to the filth who live here."

As I hand the note to her, my eyes harden. I will not be misunderstood here. I'm not trying to be perverted or anything even vaguely like it. I hand Kurt a note.

"I care because I was going to ask if I could train with you two, or if you're good enough, to teach me."

Then I lean back and sip my drink, glaring at the girl all the while. I do not take cracks about me being an Avox lightly. I may still be in the Capitol, but I could escape my 'owner' and live in the suburbs. If I could get my hands on a pair of gloves to hide fingerprints, kill them even. With no trouble.

Nicholas Jenning

As he accepts me, a big grin cracks my outer emotionless cover. I write again.

"First time I've been considered the equal of a Capitolite, BY a Capitolite. Anyway, I'll try to make up to, Tempest was her name, wasn't it? I'll try to be nice to her to make up for being creeper-like earlier."

I notice with all this writing, I'm starting to run out of paper. I go through my pockets, finding no extra notepads on my person. Once again, I wish I had one of those digital things that you can write notes on. I'd never have to worry about running out of ink and paper then.

I shrug. I can still lip the words, and he can probably read them.

"I can clean too if that makes me more worth while. I'm used to it, gives me something to do."

Nicholas Jenning

I nod with understanding as he says we share, and crack a grin when he says he actually gives all the work away. Sounds just like something I would have done before I became an Avox. My smile goes away and my face twists into puzzlement as he tells me to wait here. As he arrives and puts it onto the table, I look at it with puzzlement. Then he tells me what it does.

My mouth flies open with astonishment, then close quickly. I feel myself trying to suppress the tremors and spasms that work my body. I feel tears in my eyes and quickly wipe them away. I take an involuntary step towards it, then stop. I shouldn't have this. I shouldn't even use it. Kurt has already done so much for me, a man he barely knows. Finally, my brief struggle fades and I step forward and pick it up, a look of reverence upon my face. I do the little clasp behind my neck and talk, for the first time in years.

"Are you sure I can use this?"

My eyes widen as my words come through the air clearly. The voice isn't my voice though. It's slightly tinny. The emotion in my voice comes through well, though when I hiccup from a mixture of suppressed joy and tears, it sound like the squealing of a microphone out of sink with the speakers. I realize I'm doing a weird petting thing with the box, and immediately bring my arms limply to my sides.

"I owe you a debt that will be hard to pay. I thank you for your generosity and hope to bring the same joy to you have brought to me."

I sound a bit formal when my words aren't short and on paper, trying to be abbreviated. I guess District 10, the place that used to have all the diplomats, but now has herders, used to do that to you. Always speak with respect, and you shall be respected, as my father always said.