The Wolf, The Doctor, and The Avox [oneshots]
Feb 24, 2015 0:32:46 GMT -5
Post by arx!! on Feb 24, 2015 0:32:46 GMT -5
Jasper Tuttle
Capitol - Twenty-six - The Wolf
I'm famished.
I choked down a salad a week ago in the hopes that I could train myself to enjoy them, but I've only grown sick starving myself to avoid eating my leafy greens and juicy fruits. I need some sushi; better yet, I need a raw steak. I can already taste the blood dripping down the back of my throat and drying at the corners of my mouth. I want. I need. I have no control. I am an animal. No matter how hard I try to conceal it, my instincts always catch up with me.
I look to the sky, fearing the moon will be glaring me in the face and that my body will shift into it's most natural form - the werewolf that howls at the moon and rips throats from the innocent - but it is high noon and only the sun stares down at me. But still my heart races in my chest and my palms sweat as I fear what is to come. Tonight, the night of the full moon, will be the worst night since a month ago. I've stopped eating to keep myself weak. I'm shopping today in search of stronger chains to hold me firmly inside my trailer. And Ripred I just want a steak!
I start to salivate, so much so that I nearly drool. I swallow and take a deep breath, moving deeper down style street, passing the various salons and boutiques and tattoo parlors in search of the small hardware store at the corner. It's small, simple, and compared to every other store down this street, is quote rundown. No one in the Capitol needs to go to the hardware store. But I'm not like most Capitolites--- scratch that. I'm not like most humans.
As I push my way inside I am hit with the scent of nicotine. It's hard not to choke on it as it grows thicker and thicker in the air the closer I get to the register. I smile and nod to Ms. Cadillac who grunts and rolls her eyes when she sees me. I'm a regular. I'm pretty sure she knows that there is something wrong with me. But being a groundskeeper has its perks, one of them being that I have a very legitimate reason for being here.
I circle around the store, grabbing a can of white paint, a pair of hedge clippers, and the chains I need for later. I set the pile up at the counter where Ms. Cadillac gives me another sidelong glance before returning to where the lightbulbs are stored. I search up and down the rows and rows of different shapes, sizes, and colors of bulbs until I find the one that will work for replacing one of the spotlights. And just to be safe I grab few extras for the smaller lights backstage.
I set them all down gently back at the counter. "Will that be all for today?" I nod, give a curt reply, and pull out my wallet, handing over a few crisp bills. I sling the chains over my shoulder, grab the rest of the supplies and turn to exit when the bell rings, signaling a new customer. I'm too distracted to look up and even more distracted trying to carry everything that I end up bumping into something---I mean, someone, and sure enough all of I manage to drop the bag with the light bulbs in it. One of them shatters.
"Shit."
"Mr. Tuttle quit scaring away my customers!" Ms. Cadillac shouts from behind the counter. I bend to set down the paint can and chains on the floor.
"I'm sorry, Miss, are you alright?" I ask, standing again to look at her. She nods and rolls her eyes. Something tells me she wants to curse me out. "Are you sure?" She gives a rather corny and forced smile, and, rather unexpectedly, brings her hand to her head. If I didn't know sign language I would've thought it was just a simple gesture to brush her hair out of her face. But I've had practice in the art of hand gestures and I know for a fact she just called me a bastard. I stand motionless with a shocked look on my face as she passes by me, grabbing a bag of zip ties on her way past me.
She seems familiar, but I don't ponder it too long. She clearly doesn't like me. I pick everything back up, shaking me head. It's true I've never had much luck with girlsconsidering I ate the last one I datedbut I didn't think I was that horrible. Plus, since when did pretty girls wander around using sign? I knew Avoxes did on occasion, but she looked much too pampered to be an Avox. But what would I know? I have very limited interaction with that part of the Capitol. I was raised first as a pet, then as a sophisticated gentleman, and now I'm a groundskeeper of a prestigious show only the rich can afford. I wasn't approached by many Avoxes.
I shoulder the chains, shifting them further up my shoulder as I push out the door, breathing a deep breath of cleaner air with a smile. "Sir?" A hand on my shoulder makes me flinch, finding myself looking at a guy dressed in an expensive looking outfit. Clearly richer than me, clearly likes to wear too much cologne, and clearly doesn't know that startling a guy with hedge clippers is a bad idea.
"You look like a guy who is pretty skilled in handiwork," he says, dropping his hand from my shoulder and circling to face me. "Would you be interested in a job? Just one simple job and I'll pay you as much as you think you deserve."
"Well, see I already have a job---" He cuts me off with a wave of his hand. "Great! You'll need a shovel," he says, patting me on the back and slowly turning me back around towards with store. "Just go in there and tell Miss Casovnik to grab a shovel as well and then we can be on our way."
And before I can do anything but stammer, I am back inside the store, staring into the face of a smirking girl.