.: Cypher Maddox .:. D3 :. (FIN)

You stare at the monitor before you, eyes curiously roving across the blank screen as you slowly take a seat in the chair sitting before it. There’s a sudden click, a low whirring noise, and the monitor hums to life. The black screen switches to a dull green, and you read the words suddenly presented before you.

SUBJECT NAME: CYPHER MADDOX
SEXUAL CATEGORY: MALE
AREA OF RESIDENCY: DISTRICT 3
PERIOD OF ANIMATE EXISTENCE: 5674 DAYS

Your eyebrow quirks at the list before you. What is this? Who’s Cypher Maddox? You wrinkle your nose at the last point. "Period of Animate Existence"? You briefly attempt to do the math in your head, but-

“On the off-chance that you are either too incompetent to know what 'Period of Animate Existence' means, or are too lazy to pull up the damn calculator, I’m fifteen. 15.54520547945205 to be exact, but who’s counting?”

The voice, low and somewhat husky, floats from the little speaker beside the monitor, startling you. As he speaks, his words type themselves out onto the screen, and you briefly wonder how it is he’s doing that. Intrigued, you lean forward to listen to what the voice has to say.

“Anyway, I’m Cypher. Amateur mechanic/technician and egotistical nerd, gifted napper, resident district sex god even though I’m a virgin, and decreaser of world suck. I’m pretty attractive, too. And I’m, like, hilarious. And a fucking genius. Did I mention I was egotistical? ‘Cause I am.”

You chuckle to yourself. You decide to stick around for at least a little while longer, just long enough to find out who Cypher Maddox really is.

SUBJECT APPEARANCE: SEXY EMBODIED (ACCORDING TO HIM…)

“Okay, so I’m sure you’re all dying to feast your eyes upon me, so I’m going to attempt to turn on the webcam so that you can see me. Now, I haven’t used this thing before ‘cause there hasn’t been any real reason to, so I’m not really sure how to work it… Oh well. How hard can it be?”

You hear a few clicks and the clacking of fingers on a keyboard, and the screen flickers in front of you. A couple of pictures suddenly pop up, and you can’t help but laugh at the odd assortment of photos before you.

The square in the top, left-hand corner is a mess of static and brief flashes of pale skin and blue eyes. You hear Cypher’s irritated grunts through the speaker for a few moments, and then suddenly the image focuses fully on the face of a boy, maybe fifteen or sixteen years. He has a heart-shaped face; wide, prominent cheekbones with a sloping jaw-line and a narrow chin. He’s in the middle of running a hand through his hair, his features tinged slightly with annoyance. When he sees that the webcam is on, however, he immediately lights up, his face splitting into a triumphant grin.

“Yes, it worked! Told you I’m a genius. I’m right there, right next to that horse and above that, uh- oh, ummm… that’s my, uh, cousin. I swear.”

He coughs nervously, and you catch one last glimpse of icy blue eyes and full, pink lips before the monitor shifts back to green again. You feel a twinge of disappointment. His face was much nicer to look at than the blank screen.

“Yeah, that was a bad idea. I hope you got a good enough look at me, ‘cause I sure am a sight to behold. For the unfortunate few that didn’t, however, I guess I’ll just have to describe myself for you. I’m so nice.”

He clears his throat loudly, and you already know that his description of himself will be quite amusing.

“Oh, where do I start? My silky hair? Gorgeous eyes? Luscious lips? How bout my body? I have the body of a god. Let’s see… eh, I’ll just wing it.”

You hear a creaking sound through the speaker and guess that he must be leaning back in his chair. When he speaks again, his voice sounds tinier and further away than before.

“Even though every part of me is absolutely stunning, my eyes are probably the best.” You nod at the latter. The first thing you had noticed were his eyes, which were clear and bright and so startlingly blue that they almost appeared to be teal. “I get a lot of compliments on them. They’re blue, and I mean really blue. But sometimes they can look kind of grayish-blue, depending on the lighting. Like snowmelt.”

You hear the creaking again, and his voice is suddenly much louder when he speaks. “My hair is blonde. Sort of. It’s kind of blondie-coppery-silvery…ish. It, like, flops over my forehead a lot, but I try to keep it smoothed to the side. Which means I’m always touching it, but that’s fine ‘cause my hair is freakishly soft.

I’m skinnier than most people, but not in a gross way or anything. Not like all those starving hobo children in Twelve. Like, sexy skinny- slender- and I’m maybe 5’6 or 5’7. Somewhere around there. People tell me I’m ‘pale’, too, but I think a more accurate description would be ‘porcelain’. I think my skin brings out my eyes.

People tell me I walk like I’m proud of myself, and I am proud of myself, so that makes perfect sense. I bet it makes me look cool. I’m proud of my proud-walking, ha.”

There’s a momentary pause, in which all you hear is the steady hum of the monitor and Cypher’s breath on the mic. Then, a low chuckle.

“Yeah, that’s pretty much all I can think of right now. I’m sure you want to hear more but, alas, I’m limited on time and I’m not even halfway done here. So, moving on!”

SUBJECT PERSONALITY: SELFISHLY UNSELFISH

There’s a sharp laugh through the speaker, followed by a snort.

“My personality? Well, that should speak for itself, don’t you think?” You can hear the smile in his voice, and he chuckles again before continuing. “I’m a first-class narcissist. Conceited, arrogant, cocky, high-and-mighty, self-righteous, insert other synonyms for ‘vain’ here, yeah? The sad thing is, though, is that I know I’m full of myself. Does that even make any sense? Yes? No? Oh, well. I’m special.”

It’s suddenly quiet again, the silence penetrated only by the distinct clicking of a mouse. You begin to wonder what it is he’s doing before he suddenly starts speaking again.

“I’m smart, and I’m funny. ‘Decreaser of world suck’, remember? And the world really does suck, which sucks. I’m not Mr. Optimistic, not even close, but I try to put on a happy face. Upset me, though, and I’ll make your world even suckier. I’ve got a bit of a temper, I’m not ashamed to say.”

He falls silent again, and you start to become very curious as to what it is he’s doing on his side of the screen that seems to be taking so much of his attention.

“I’m not all that bad, though,” he says. You can still hear the mouse clicking away through the speaker, and the curiosity is beginning to eat at you. What could he be doing? “I may think I’m the greatest thing to ever grace the surface of the planet, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about anyone else. For some reason, and I don’t know why, I can’t stand it when people sulk. So I crack a few jokes, flash a smile, anything to turn a frown upside-down. Maybe I’m just trying to get attention, and that may be true, but at least someone gets a little less mope-y in the process. It’s a win/win situation, see?”

Silence, a few more clicks of a mouse, and then a chuckle. You’re starting to get irritated. “I’m kind of odd, too. And I get distracted easily. Combine the two, and you get this. Look, I drew a picture!”

The screen flickers, and this time only one image appears on the monitor before you. You laugh as soon as you see it. This is what he’s been doing?

“Impressive, eh? This is my depiction of the 61st Hunger Games. The victor is from my district this year, so I decided to draw a celebratory picture in honor of him. Though, the guy cried most of the time so I guess I shouldn’t have drawn him smiling, buuut… Look, look at my giant squid thing! Isn’t he awesome? He took forever to draw. My favorite part is the bird, though. Truly a masterpiece.”

You shake your head, grinning to yourself as he continues to ramble on about his picture. This kid really is special.

The screen blanks once more, but you’re still left smiling at the monitor before you, Cypher’s laughter echoing through the speaker. You’re glad you stuck around.

SUBJECT HISTORY: DECREASING THE WORLD-SUCK

The laughter stopped as soon as the word ‘History’ popped up on the screen. It’s quiet for a moment, and you can vaguely hear Cypher shift in his chair through the speaker.

“Wow, the one thing about myself I don’t like to talk about,” he grumbles, and you’re instantly intrigued by his words. There’s some shuffling from the other side, and when he speaks again his voice lacks its former light-heartedness.

“My mother was a prostitute,” he says flatly, and your brows quirk upwards in surprise at his words. “She was nineteen years old when she had my sister, Matrix, who is really probably my half-sister since neither of know who our real fathers are. We didn’t see much of her, but she wasn’t a terrible person or anything. She was kind and loving and my best friend when I was kid. She sold herself to strange men just to put food on the table and keep us in school, and I kind of respected her for that. That’s not weird, right? She was just doing what she had to do…

Anyway, one evening when she was walking home from the merchant’s, some drunken, low-life asshole recognized her and tried to take advantage of her. She fought back, and suddenly I didn’t have a mother.”

Cypher falls silent, and you hear no movement through the speaker. You sit patiently, eyes roaming over the screen in front of you, re-reading his words as you wait.

“We started living with our grandpa after that,” he continues with a heavy sigh. “He’s a mechanic, so I help him out in the shop even though I’d much prefer being behind a computer screen. He’s got this disorder, epilepsy, where he has seizures a lot and the medicine for it costs quite a bit of money. Matrix is eighteen now, so she does most of the working so that we can afford it. She had to quit school to do it, and I would too, but she won’t let me. She absolutely forbids it.

Other than that, though, I’d say I have it good compared to some of the other kids around here. It seems like everyone has a tragic past nowadays, which is one reason why the word sucks so much.”

He yawns, and you hear the chair creaking with his weight. When he speaks, he sounds a little more cheerful than a few moments before.

“Speaking of world-suck, I hope I drained some of it out of your day today. I already know I did, so I don’t really have to say that, but I’m trying to end this thing without being abrupt. Oh, well. You’ll love me anyway. Bye!”

And with that, the screen went black.

headings- 008b00, 006400
speech- 006400
other- 00611c
body- 4ac948

Codeword: oDair
Face Claim: Marc Schulze