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∂αмєη
Capitol Resident

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last seen Feb 25, 2016 23:49:47 GMT -5

xx freedom's restrictions xx [SEMPER!] Mar 11, 2013 2:01:43 GMT -5

Post by ∂αмєη on Mar 11, 2013 2:01:43 GMT -5

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As the contract was signed and my 'services' were now as an avox slave rather than a good friend, certain opportunities were opened up to me. It was actually rather funny when they told me that I would be allowed to travel on the Capitol trains in order to go where I needed to collect whatever Cassius needed. Previous to all of this, I would sneak out holes in the gates in order to cross from District Six to District Four. It was illegal to do so previous to this 'transaction'. Now I was an official worker for a Peacekeeper and that meant means of travel should I truly desire it. Which on this occasion, it was well deserved. Even though I promised myself to not abuse and overuse the things I now had access to, I needed to go to District Six.

You see, there has only been one person in my life that I was truly in love with. I mean, there had been women that I said I loved but you don't proceed to murder the ones you care about. At least, I never liked to kill people that I had attachments to after my father. It just wasn't my style. Before I gave it up, at least. What I'm trying to say is that the one person in my life that I have ever loved was Bear Keeni. Bear had a way about himself where he really just didn't care. And it's weird enough that I found myself caring about the man that didn't care. He was different than the others I found in my life. He was the only one, apart from Ethan, in Stained Transactions that actually managed to seem alright to me. He was my first love and my first true friend that was more than a co-worker. Those were hard enough to come by for people like me.

And so when those two names were spoken on the television set in Cassius' office, I knew right from that moment that I needed to go. That I needed to find my best friend in order to make sure that he was comforted in a time like this. Where two of his siblings found themselves having to face the most difficult part of our lives. The Hunger Games would threaten his siblings and even if one could make it out alive, the other would have to die. Not only would that devastate the survivor, it would devastate Bear surely. I remember meeting them once and knowing that even though they didn't get along when I saw them, Bear would do anything for his siblings. Bear would do anything for a lot of people, though, whether he admitted it or not. He had always been like a brother to me, if nothing else. But oh no, he was something else. Much more than just a brother.

And so I took time and used my job in order to get onto the train, flashing the badge that hung around my neck. It said my name and my owner as well as a few more specifics that allowed for them to accept me. And once in the District I had once called home, I grew nervous. It had been three years since I last saw him. Three years since I had been in contact with the man that was a friend - my best friend in fact - and a coworker. A lover and a brother. A partner in crime and now the man whose siblings would be on the television set, preparing for their death. And so I would be whatever he wanted and needed me to be at this moment to make sure that he was alright. Because he deserved that. I didn't have my tongue any more and so my words were removed. But there was no way they could ever remove the love that could be seen in my eyes when I looked at him.

It didn't take long to find the home that he lived in. I knew the way there as if it was second nature for me. I could still find my own home too, if I wanted to. But it was a part of my past and I didn't want to bring it into my present. I was a changed person right now. I would have to be for my friend Cassius. And I would have to be for Bear. I would have to be composed so that he would be able to lean on me, if he needed it. For all I know, he could have been completely fine. But there was no way I'd risk it. I couldn't. I had to be ready to be his shoulder to cry on if he really needed one.

And so I knocked on that door that stood before me, both prepared and unprepared to see the man that would answer it.

all I need's a whisper in a world that only shouts

semper
Retired Staff

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last seen Jan 1, 2014 0:57:11 GMT -5

xx freedom's restrictions xx [SEMPER!] Mar 25, 2013 18:51:27 GMT -5

Post by semper on Mar 25, 2013 18:51:27 GMT -5

bear Keeni

I don’t know why Vicky trusts me to take care of Teddy all by myself – I mean, she does know that I can’t even look after myself, right? Of course she’s aware of that; we’ve been together (not as a couple, mind you) for nearly a year now and she knows how immature I am, how impulsive and oblivious I am. I can hardly take care of myself so how the hell am I supposed to take care of our kid?

Everything in the house is silent other than Teddy’s soft coos. The television would have been on if I hadn’t drove my fist through the screen the day of the bloodbath. I don’t remember what provoked me into assaulting the television but I just compulsively (go figure) threw a fist – along with quite a few vulgar insults and phrases – at it. They hadn’t even shown Pyrian’s or Gypsy’s face very much but I just couldn’t stand watching it for a few reasons: one, I just never watched the games and I did not intend to start now; two, part of me cared and then the rest just assumed the “I don’t give a single fuck about this” attitude I usually have; and three, Teddy requires much more attention than the TV and the stupid games combined.

The little rascal is tucked in a nest of blankets and in a makeshift crib I slapped together with two chairs that had armrests on them. There was no way I was going to drag that heavy wooden ~~prison~~ crib all the way from Vicky’s shop so I told her I’d make one, and make one I did. The armrests are perfectly spaced so that when I drape a blanket or two over them it covers the gaps and Teddy has no way of rolling off of the seat. A mighty fine job, if I do say so myself.

He looks up at me with his big eyes, so full of pure innocence and obliviousness to the harsh reality that’ll surround him for the rest of his life. He has no idea that he’ll be faced with the games, or the Capitol, or the sneers of classmates for the way he looks or how he acts. Teddy, right now, is just so safe and lily white what it almost hurts me to know that that protective bubble will soon be popped.

I reach into his little crib and he meets me halfway, raising both his hands and grabbing onto my pointer finger. He looks at it in a sort of awe and then tries to gnaw it, which makes a little smile come onto my face. ”Already a little biter, eh?” I let him gum my finger before pulling it out of his mouth and substituting it for a pacifier that he graciously accepts without squalling, much to my relief. I’ve yet to figure out what each of his screeches means even though Vicky says that they come in patterns, like for instance he knows when feeding time is and so he’ll scream and cry around the same time every day for that, but the other times I have no idea and so I just try every possible solution until he settles down.

Teddy lies comfortably and quietly. I set a little stuffed animal at his side, just in case he wants it, and just when I think he might trail off to sleep there’s a knock at the door. He jolts but is otherwise undisturbed, sucking away on his pacifier and even trying to grab the little plush toy. Me, however – I shoot a glare at the door, instantly willing whoever the hell it is to just go away. They’re probably some Capitolite or an interviewer coming to ask me about my twin siblings and how I feel about them making it this far (and I can’t say that my reply will be as sweet and brotherly as they probably assume it’ll be). The silence fills the house again but I don’t hear footsteps leaving, so in a presumably futile attempt to chase them off I snarl, ”Go the fuck away.”

A few moments of no sound and then there’s another knock. Teddy is still occupied with cuddling the fluffy plush thing so I get up and stomp to the door, fists clenched at my sides. ”I’m not gonna tell you again you slimy piece of excrement,” I say, twisting the doorknob and yanking it open. ”Get the hell off this prop—“

Instead of a bedazzled and colorful face there’s a weathered and kind one, albeit somewhat older. Instead of red cat eyes there are soft brown ones – ones that I know all too well.

Lane Fox Ralyks.

As quickly as I opened the door I slam it shut, hiding behind it as bewilderment and shock overwhelm me. I thought he was dead? Three years – three whole fucking years he completely disappears and leaves me thinking I’ve failed in keeping him just as I have with everyone else. A ghost, I’m just seeing a ghost. If I open the door again, maybe he’ll disappear. He’s not really there – why would he be here after all this time? A trembling hand reaches back and yanks the door open, but the man is still standing there. My voice fails and sticks in my throat so all I can do is stare in disbelief.

And then, rather quietly and almost unsure of myself, I manage to mutter: ”Lane?”