He's a Demanding S.O.B (Alyx)

The boy didn't sound one hundred percent sure he was up for the Games.  Normally Flynn would have thought that very sensible; he didn't train these kids so they could rush off and do things without weighing up the odds and only acting if it was a good chance of success.  He needed him to be sure to comply with his request though.

He changed the subject, seemingly randomly, even though he had his own clear agenda in mind. "You close to any of the other children? Anyone you care about more than the others?" He paused, thinking that he rather expected the boy to say no.  Flynn himself found close human bonds a weak and despicable habit other people seemed to indulge themselves in.  He added another question to the list in case, "And what do you pride yourself on? Don't be shy, I want to know what you think you are good at, honestly; perhaps your speed, agility, grace, strength, determination or some combination of these traits. Tell me honestly, I will know if you are lying to me."

The boy seemed scared of Flynn and that made him feel good; he liked all the kids to feel afraid of him, it kept them well behaved, attentive to his needs and on edge to make them perform their best.  He could see Alyx carefully considering Flynn's questions, and again he was pleased.  Flynn wanted considered, accurate answers not random mutterings that carried little weight or sincerity. 

"I don't feel close to any of the others," Alyx replied. Flynn couldn't help but smile wryly; an excellent answer as far as he was normally concerned.  Friends and people you cared about made you weak, and he needed Alyx to be confident and strong.  On the other hand he also wanted Alyx to be easily manipulated by him, and not having anyone he cared about would make that harder.  He was glad he'd thought to ask the other set of questions about what the boy took pride in.  That might yield more that Flynn could use against him.

"And I'd say I pride myself on my ability to escape situations unnoticed, my cunning."

Flynn thought for a while, his cunning was something he also prided himself on.  He pondered that the boy might just be describing Flynn in the hope of currying favour, and not actually see himself that way.  Flynn scanned the boy, taking into account what he had observed over the last three years of his behaviour.  He decided it was most probably the truth; of course it was Flynn's own values, what else did the boy have to form his own personality from if not Flynn? Wasn't that a large reason for raising them in isolation, as he did?

"Right. Good lad. Good answer." He crouched down a little so he was on Alyx's level, looking him straight in the eye, his hand still on his shoulder, tightening his grip even more so it was hurting a little.  "I need you to do something for me." He licked his lips, trying to choose his words carefully, "If the name 'Ryan Kellisar' is read out at the Reaping you need to volunteer as tribute." He repeated the name several times to make sure Alyx knew it. "I do not want you to volunteer yet unless it is Ryan that is called out.  Am I perfectly clear? This is the most important thing I have ever asked you or the others to do."

The boy had dutifully nodded and said yes, but that wasn't enough for Flynn.  He needed to know, beyond any doubt at all that Alyx would step up and take his son's place.  The thought of his blood, his own flesh and blood, going into that travesty of death, agony and bloodshed was too terrible, even for a man as heartless and uncaring as Flynn. This whole 'caring' about someone other than himself was exhausting and confusing after a life of selfishness, self-preservation, and only seeing others as either a threat to be overcome, or a rival for what you wanted to do or become.  

Flynn straightened, taking his hand off the boy's shoulder and cracking the knuckles in his hand loudly, a menacing gesture at the best of times, he was sure.  He paced in front of the boy, making him wait before he spoke again.  Stalling and making people wait was a great way of showing them who had the power, Flynn found.  And of course, he always had all the power.  Only trouble was, when sending a child into the Games, if the child was pretty sure they would die, and let's face it only a pretty cocky or stupid child would think anything else, after all the odds were never in their favour, the child might well refuse, wanting to take their chances annoying Flynn over their almost certain death in the arena.  

"If you fail me on this, if they call out 'Ryan Kellisar' and no one volunteers, you say nothing and let my son walk up on to that stage, and you don't yell those magic words 'I volunteer as tribute' do you know what will happen afterwards?" He paused - not long enough to allow the boy to answer, just enough to make him imagine how furious Flynn would be.  "I WILL find you.  Make no mistake. I know people everywhere in this District.  I even know people in other districts, people who help me smuggle goods in and out of the borders.  There is no where you will be able to hide from me for long.  And every minute you hide you know I am getting closer." Flynn circled behind the boy, coming up behind him slowly like an animal stalking his prey.  "I am sneaking close and closer, until finally - BOOM!" Flynn grabbed him by both shoulders, his fingers digging in deeply like claws sinking into the flesh of the downed animal it has just ensnared.  "And then my fun will begin.  At least in the Games there is a chance you'll win.  There is an even higher chance you will die a quick and relatively painless death.  Those will not be an option if you fail me." He lowered his head so that he was standing close behind the boy, whispering in his ear, his shoulders still pinned in a tight embrace.  "And I will take my time, flaying your skin, breaking all the bones in your body, and letting them set wrong, over and over for months, years if I feel so inclined.  I will keep you alive for a very very long time.  But you will not be able to get away.  You won't be able to even walk when I am done, you will have to drag what remains of your legs about after you as you beg for scraps in the street."


He let the horrific image soak in for a while, before saying, "So the very thing you pride, your ability to get away. I will take it from you.  And you will starve to death in the streets as a cripple, your mind softened by the extended and brutal torture." 

He turned the boy to look at him, a cold and feral smile on his face, "But we're not going to need any of that, are we, because what are you going to say if Ryan's name is called?"

(ooc - this is all rather moot as obviously Ryan wasn't reaped.  even if he was, please don't take this as ooc pressure to have to do anything.  I would NEVER have Flynn do these things without your express permission in the very very rare chance that Ryan is reaped in a later games.  Alyx would feel pressured but I in no way want you to feel ooc pressured, ok?)
(ooc word count 679)

Flynn was pleased once more by the effect he seemed to be having on the boy; he looked utterly terrified; biting his lip, his breathing faster, like his heart must be thudding so fast Flynn wished he could reach out and take his pulse, to get a real sense of how scared he'd made him.  Good, that's exactly how I need him to be.  More scared of me and the consequences of failure than he is of dying in the arena. Excellent. It took no small measure of control to stop himself rubbing his hands in glee at his plan going so well.

Alyx looked like he might burst into tears any moment though, and if there was one thing Flynn detested it was tears from a boy.  Boys, like men, had to be tough and to Flynn's foolish mind, that meant never showing weakness, and in further silliness he was one hundred percent sure that crying was a sure sign of weakness.  Emotion. Caring. Blubbering. Begging. Pleading. That is what the weak did to try and get favours and mercy from the strong.  He needed Alyx to be strong and take a stand when called on, not a blubbering little girl too scared to face the challenge.

"You're not going to start crying on me, are you?" The words made it clear how much such an outburst was NOT to be tolerated.  He didn't stop to think that they probably brought children closer to tears, rather than helping them stay calm and dry eyed as he wanted. 

(ooc word count 263)

"No, Uncle Flynn," Alyx said and he then took a deep breath. "I won't cry, I promise..."
Flynn relaxed a little, backing away and attempting to be less over the top with his intimidating the boy.  His work was done.  Now to get the boy feeling he could continue with being a productive member of Flynn's team of pickpockets, rather than a blubbering mess holding back tears and otherwise not able to do much. 

"Good lad.  You see that you do just that." He cleared his throat.  "Now, I believe I issued you lot a challenge.  You'd better get out there and steal me something impressive if you want a prize and my respect."

He went to the door and held it open, allowing the boy to say one last thing if he wished before sending him out into the freezing cold.  The wind bit at Flynn's hands and face and he was very glad he wasn not the one having to go out and be imaginative in those conditions.  His days of having to do that sort of thing were well over and he felt  a sense of pride in how far he had come and how much he had changed his own life to be powerful, comfortable, never without food or comforts.
(ooc word count: 220)