a killer's meal [Harrison/Kass]

kap
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trans rights are human rights <3

a killer's meal [Harrison/Kass] Nov 14, 2019 15:49:01 GMT -5

Post by kap on Nov 14, 2019 15:49:01 GMT -5

"I am more than this
I promise to myself
Alone and no one else
My flame is rising higher
I am the fire"

[googlefont="Bebas Neue:400"]Harrison Greenslade
Working at the old man's restaurant and bar had just become another part of my punishment as an avox in the Capitol. I had no choice in the matter, but I had no choice in anything that happened in my life anymore, anyway. The place was called "Mr. Kane's Bar and Grill" and it wasn't anything too fancy. I usually was one of the bartenders, especially on the busier nights, such as when old Mr. Kane had the Games playing on televisions throughout the place.

Usually, if the Games were playing on the televisions, there was some sort of big fight going on, such as a feast or the finale, as this was what drew in the biggest crowds.

When I wasn't working behind the bar, I was usually back in the kitchen, cooking the food for the patrons that entered the restaurant portion of the place. There were also times, however, like tonight, where I was sent to deliver food to people who'd ordered takeout. I hated having to be obedient, doing exactly what I was told, all day, every day, but I had no choice. I was this old man's avox servant, and he was allowed to tell me to do whatever he wanted to, whether or not I wanted to do it.

Since Mr. Kane's Bar and Grill was located so close to the Training Center, victors and Gamemakers, as well as some other Capitol folks who spent time in the Training Center would sometimes order food to be delivered there.

I'd be delivering food to the Training Center tonight, as someone had made an order, and I was the one who was on the delivery shift. Usually, when they sent me out to do deliveries, they sent someone with me who wasn't an avox, so as to 'keep me in line'. Tonight, however, the bar was quite busy, as well as understaffed, so, to my surprise, they sent me on my own to make the delivery.

This was actually something that I wasn't wanting to argue with. (Sure, I couldn't have argued anyway, as I can't exactly speak since they cut out my tongue, but I still often wanted to.) This particular job they had given me was one where I'd have a bit of freedom, since I was making the delivery on my own. Finally, I'd be out from under watchful eyes, if even only for a few minutes.

As I walked over to the Training Center, there were a few things that I considered doing, but didn't. I considered just making a run for it. If I could just get out of the Capitol and into the woods, I could live out my days there, not having to act as a servant to the Capitol's people. I also considered exploring the Capitol a little bit, perhaps popping into a shop or two, just wandering around and seeing what there is to see.

I didn't do either of those things, though. For some reason, I actually made the decision to be obedient, and made my way into the Training Center. Perhaps I just feared the punishment that I would endure if I disobeyed orders. I didn't want to die, after all.

As I entered the Training Center while carrying the food, I made my way to the elevator. I pressed the button for the floor I needed, and the doors closed. While in the elevator, I got a bit lost in thought, which almost made me forget to get out of the elevator when it reached my destination floor.

I had begun thinking about why perhaps I should have run away when I had the chance on the way here. I thought about how I could have run back to District Six, and tried to get my family to run away into the woods with me so that we could be together again (as I'd obviously never be able to live in Six again). I knew that wasn't possible, though. They'd never take me back. Not after what I had done.

Sure, my son Harry was born only a few months before I was taken away, so he wouldn't remember anything about me, but Poppy, Colton and Terra… My daughter, Terra, now fifteen years old, hated me as soon as I left, as did my wife, Poppy. They made sure I knew that when I was dragged away by those Peacekeepers, but to this day, I still don't know how my son Colton feels. He's twelve now, and when I was taken away, he was in tears, but didn't say a word.

Ding!

The elevator's ding alerted me that I was at my floor, and I snapped out of my thoughts, stepping off of the elevator with the food. I walked over to the door of where I was supposed to be, and knocked, waiting for whomever had ordered the food to answer.

word count: 806
lyrics: "I Am The Fire" by Halestorm

sbeeg
Retired Staff

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last seen Nov 1, 2023 5:54:37 GMT -5

a killer's meal [Harrison/Kass] Dec 2, 2019 13:45:57 GMT -5

Post by sbeeg on Dec 2, 2019 13:45:57 GMT -5

Kass had left the room full of couches and cocktails that morning. She'd been up all night watching the feed and she was likely to fall asleep before the feast ended.

And she realized that she didn't truly want to watch it.

She went back to the District Eleven suite, now devoid of tributes.

There was a knock on the door. Odd. She hadn't called anyone. She went to the door and found a man holding a bag of take out. She sighed. Mace had talked about ordering something earlier in the day and he must have told them the wrong floor. Despite all of the food inside the training center he swore by this restaurant.

How easily they settle into Capitol life.

"What is it?" she asked, nodding to the bag. If it was something gross she'd take it to Mace, but if it was something that peeked her interest then Emberstatt didn't need to know about it.

She looked up at the man inspecting his uniform. She was surprised they let in a man off the street. The training center had so many rules and so much security they wouldn't let any delivery guy in. She knew how ravenous the public was for gossip. No doubt they had people at the doors trying to get a glimpse of which victor was standing next to who.

That is unless the people they let in can't talk.

"Shit," Kass hissed. She hadn't met many avoxes in her life and it was hard to get used to the idea of them. She felt her cheeks burn and she quickly threw open the door wider. "Sorry, uh, come in."

table by griffin

kap
Retired Staff

6,037 POSTS
Pronouns: they/them
last seen Jul 4, 2024 19:59:43 GMT -5

trans rights are human rights <3

a killer's meal [Harrison/Kass] Dec 3, 2019 11:31:44 GMT -5

Post by kap on Dec 3, 2019 11:31:44 GMT -5

"I am more than this
I promise to myself
Alone and no one else
My flame is rising higher
I am the fire"

[googlefont="Bebas Neue:400"]Harrison Greenslade
The person who answered the door was not who I'd expected. Kassandra Nerys, the most recent victor of the Hunger Games. The young girl reminded me an awful lot of my own daughter. Perhaps it was just because of her age and appearance, but Terra was who I thought of when I saw her. I missed Terra more than I had realized before, upon seeing Kassandra. I suppose that, working in a bar type of restaurant, most of the customers I ran into were a bit older, so I didn't see people her age very often.

I missed her.

Kassandra looked at the food I'd brought with a sigh. I wouldn't be surprised if my own daughter reacted the same way to seeing me. Although, it'd likely be a much more exasperated sigh, frustrated at my presence. Terra likely would even try to hit me, but I couldn't blame her. I tore our family apart, not realizing it at the time. I don't completely regret what I did, though. For some reason, deep down, I still feel like killing that man was the right thing to do, even though it meant that it changed my life for the worse.

"What is it?" Kassandra asked, nodding to the bag of food. Clearly she hadn't realized quite yet that I couldn't give her that answer with words. Since I didn't say anything, she seemed to have come to the conclusion a moment or two later that my tongue had been cut out. I wasn't just the delivery guy. I was a Capitol servant.

The young victor seemed almost embarrassed when she came to the realization that I couldn't speak.

"Shit," Her cheeks had a redness to them and she opened the door open wider. "Sorry, uh, come in." She was welcoming me in, which was something that the both of us could likely get in trouble for. I didn't want to get her into trouble, but she had made her own decision. I was used to taking punishments, so I didn't mind doing things I wasn't supposed to every once in a while. I gave her a thankful nod and entered through the door that she had opened for me. I then handed her the bag of food.

I glanced around the room that I was now in. No matter how long I lived in the Capitol as one of their avox slaves, I was sure that I'd never get over the lavish lifestyle they lived. The rooms were always decorated so luxuriously, and there always seemed to be something new and fancy that I hadn't noticed the day before.

I returned my attention to Kassandra and wondered if she thought I was being rude by gawking at my surroundings, or for that matter, what she thought of me in general.

Should it really matter what she thought of me, though? In all actuality, we were quite similar.

We were both killers. The difference was that she got the celebrity treatment while I got the criminal one.

word count: 497
lyrics: "I Am The Fire" by Halestorm

sbeeg
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a killer's meal [Harrison/Kass] Dec 5, 2019 13:35:02 GMT -5

Post by sbeeg on Dec 5, 2019 13:35:02 GMT -5

Kass wasn't entirely sure if she was allowed to let people into the room. No one had set out the rules of Victorhood, but it was to her understanding that people in places of power and influence were supposed to be welcoming. That people with big houses and ornate doors were supposed to throw them open and welcome people in less fortunate circumstances into their homes. This wasn't her home but it was were she was staying and she had already been rude to the poor man. She placed the food on the counter, tearing open the packaging to peer at what was inside. There was a container of french fries covered in a white cheese and some kind of oil. She took a bite. They weren't half bad, if unnecessarily garnished. Mace tended to go overboard on delicacies. He was always offering pastries and cookies and all kinds of food to everyone as if they were not all survivors of the Hunger Games.

She opened another package and found a steak cooked extremely rare. She wrinkled her nose at it, pulling it from the bag and sliding it across the counter.

"If you're hungry you can have that," she said, flicking her hand at the slab of meat. She used to eat whatever she could get her hands on, but there something entirely unappealing about bloody meat. Too much like stumps of mangled flesh. Even the texture of it on her tongue made her want to throw up. She looked up at her guest. What if he had a similar aversion? Kass quickly pulled the fries out as well. "Or these. The truffle oil is really too much for me, if I'm honest."

Her eyes lingered. From what she heard of avoxes they were criminals. But under Snow's reign criminal had a very different meaning. Killian would be considered a criminal if his plans were found out. Kass herself could earn the title.

Would they avox a victor? Her tongue got her into plenty of trouble and she was sure the Capitol would be ready to get rid of it. But then again, victors were so public. They were supposed to represent all that you could achieve in Panem if you fought hard enough. What good would it do to take someone who had reached the top of the food chain and knock them down to the bottom. You have to give the masses hope of freedom if you want to keep them slaves.

Kass plucked a fry from the pile, shaking off as much of the toppings as she could before popping it into her mouth.

"Were you a rebel?" she asked through a mouthful of potato. She was curious as to what brought this man to be in his position right now. He didn't have the Capitol look about him, no this man was from a district.

She didn't need to talk to him. She could have grabbed her stolen food and sent him on his way but there was something about him, something she could not admit to herself.

That he had brown hair, dark eyes, and cheekbones as sharp as her own. That he looked so similar to her mental picture of a father she hadn't known. That for a brief moment she could pretend that her family didn't die in a gutter but maybe dedicated their lives to a cause bigger than themselves and were caught.

She knew it was a fantasy, but it was a distraction. One she desperately needed.

table by griffin

kap
Retired Staff

6,037 POSTS
Pronouns: they/them
last seen Jul 4, 2024 19:59:43 GMT -5

trans rights are human rights <3

a killer's meal [Harrison/Kass] Dec 6, 2019 13:21:39 GMT -5

Post by kap on Dec 6, 2019 13:21:39 GMT -5

"I am more than this
I promise to myself
Alone and no one else
My flame is rising higher
I am the fire"

[googlefont="Bebas Neue:400"]Harrison Greenslade
When Kassandra welcomed me inside, she set the food down on the counter, opening up the packaging to reveal the contents within. There were fries of some sort, although I wasn't sure what was on top of them, as well as some steak. I hardly ever got the actual good food that the Capitol produced. When it came to feeding me, Kane always just gave me whatever cold food what left over at the end of the day as the restaurant closed for the night.

Sometimes, there were some things that I found rather appetizing, even when cold, and one of those things was steak. Ever since I first tried it, it'd been my favorite food. I'd even stolen some not-so-cold and much more fresh steak from the kitchen before when working in there, luckily never getting caught in doing so. Unfortunately, the times I did have the chance to eat steak were few and far between. I was much more likely to get a small plate of fries that were either cold, stale or both.

I suppose that's why, when the food was opened up and revealed to Kassandra and myself, I found the steak more appealing than the fries. She didn't seem all too fond of the steak, offering it to me almost immediately. Surprised enough that a victor would offer an avox food, it surprised me further when she offered some of the fries to me. I wished there were a way I could have thanked her for the food in words, but that just wasn't something I could do anymore.

She reminded me a lot of Terra before I committed my crime. She was kind to those in less fortunate situations than her, but still did what she had to help herself. Kassandra had shown that she knew how to help herself by winning the Games, but showed there was still kindness within her by welcoming me in and sharing food with me. I could imagine my daughter doing the exact same thing.

Terra wouldn't have done it for me in particular, though. I wonder if Kassandra would be this kind to me if she knew what I had done to get myself into this situation.

I smiled at the girl kindly, and picked up the plastic fork and knife that were included with the food. It didn't seem like these plastic utensils would cut steak very easily, but I thought I'd give it a try. I began to try to cut the food, struggling with it, but managing to at least cut into it a little bit as Kassandra spoke again.

She spoke with a fry in her mouth, but it didn't bother me. It actually made me a bit more comfortable around her, knowing she wasn't obsessed with the 'manners' that the people of the Capitol tried to force everyone to have.

"Were you a rebel?" she asked me. I shook my head 'no'. There was no point in lying. Although, I wasn't exactly sure how to tell her the truth as to what I'd done without just writing it down. Besides, if she knew what I'd done, would she still be this kind and welcoming? I'd killed a man in cold blood, and I still didn't regret doing it like I should.

Did she regret the kills she'd made?

Did it matter? She'd been forced to kill to survive. I didn't have to kill to survive.

I had killed because I wanted to. She had killed because she had to.

word count: 577
lyrics: "I Am The Fire" by Halestorm

sbeeg
Retired Staff

3,503 POSTS
Pronouns: she/they
last seen Nov 1, 2023 5:54:37 GMT -5

a killer's meal [Harrison/Kass] Dec 6, 2019 14:20:49 GMT -5

Post by sbeeg on Dec 6, 2019 14:20:49 GMT -5

The avox tore into the steak eagerly. She wondered what he usually ate, probably nothing very good. Could he taste it without a tongue? Was it hard to swallow missing such a vital muscle? Kassandra ran her own tongue around her teeth, the heavy taste of truffle oil still lingering on it. Of all the things to lose she was grateful that it had been her arm. There was no replacement for a tongue, not that she knew of, and she put a lot of value on her own. It was quite sharp and quick and she couldn't imagine a life where she had to stay silent. She'd rather die.

He shook his head no to being a rebel. Kass sagged a little. Her grand idea was crushed but she was still curious. What could have possibly landed him here?

"Were you framed for something?" she asked, grabbing another fry but keeping a close eye on her guest. She didn't trust the Peacekeepers in District Eleven and a lot of innocent people were shipped to the Detention Center for imaginary crimes. Kass was never convinced avoxes were all cut and dry criminals like the school books said. He shook his head no.

Kass, forgetting about the fry in her hand, watched him closely. If he wasn't a rebel and he wasn't framed then it must have been a common crime kind of thing. The kind of offense that Kass herself may have committed in the past. Plenty of citizens steal, but only a handful are caught and even then a small amount are made examples to the rest.

"Did you steal?"

He shook his head.

Kass was staring at him now and felt the familiar sensation of goosebumps rising on her arm. The same tingle in the back of the neck that ran up her spine when she met Red for the first and final time. The same pit in her stomach when Cyril, Jacob, or Red are brought up. The tension when they list a victor's kills and everyone goes quiet.

"Did you kill someone?"

table by griffin