brave bird; Elegant

k y .

"These four walls to keep you
One floor to sleep upon and only
These four walls to keep you
These four walls contain you"

It isn't the first time he's walked too far and probably won't be the last either. Sometimes Ky just steps out the front door, thoughts clouding up his brain so densely that he forgets to take notice of where he's going. Opal always set a perameter for him when he was a kid but he's learned to walk past that long ago.

He's never been so self-aware, never understood how clearly privileged he is before now. As the son of a beloved victor, he knows he's never really wanted for anything, never felt the pang of hunger since he was small and that's an odd thing to realize, that he's actually lucky. Lucky he gets to sleep in a warm bed at night, lucky he has a mom that loves him.

In the world that he lives in, that is somehow rare. He wonders how that happens, how somehow kids just grow up and a switch gets flicked in their head that tells them to have kids and then hate them. Bitterness breeds bitterness and they've been caught in a cycle of it for generations, years of pushing to be the best, to volunteer to die has made the district into something else entirely, an enormous cattle pen.

This is the world he was born into.

He wonders for a moment about Opal, his mother. They don't talk much about her time before the games and he's never really thought to ask. She doesn't like to talk about her family and he doesn't want to pry so it doesn't leave much. He knows she was a Shore before she took his father's name but there isn't much else.

Shouldn't I have grandparents?

The thought stalls him in his tracks. If he does, they could still be alive and Ky might be able to find them, but then, wouldn't his mom have brought him to meet them before if she wanted him to know them? Maybe he doesn't even want to know them. It's an odd concept, realizing that the world extends out much further than the little bubble he's been living in.

“You lost there, fancypants?”

Ky blinks, the world around him suddenly falling into place. He's been walking mindlessly, all the way from Victor village to the District One slums. He's never been this far, he never had any need to be but now he's here he can understand why someone would think him lost. His clothing, simplistic as it is, is Capitol Couture, a parting gift from Sardonyx Crowe.

A girl approaches him and at first, her strange way of speaking throws him off a little bit, but it isn't all that far off from the accent he remembers his dad having. She's got a full head of flaming red hair and seems to be near the same height as him, not very threatening judging by her body language but Ky tenses a little bit anyway, years of training preparing him for a fight.

"Blaze," he repeats uncertainly, it sounds like a nickname, "I'm not lost, I just walked here." Ky looks around, eyes taking in untended streets and generally more life than he's used to seeing, not all of it good. He stares at two men exchanging something for too long and receives a pointed glare for his troubles. It's noisy but not necessarily in a bad way, just different from the quiet and well-kept streets around Victor's Village.

"I think I understand what you mean, those men seem to not like me," he says thoughtfully and runs a hand through his hair. It's a nervous reflex but Ky doesn't give anything away in his neutral expression, "My name is Ky, don't worry Blaze, I'm just passing through, I'll be out of your hair shortly."

He keeps walking forwards, the District is technically enclosed in one large fence, he's bound to get home eventually.

k y .

"These four walls to keep you
One floor to sleep upon and only
These four walls to keep you
These four walls contain you"

Two women argue over the price of a pound of meat at a market stall and Ky watches, transfixed. That doesn't happen on the other side of the district, people don't haggle becuase there's no need to, money is arbitrary. He wonders how it could be that a single district could be so divided economically, it doesn't make sense to him. It isn't as if One is short on victors, Ridley just won last year, the whole district should have benefited but it doesn't seem that way at all.

If slums like these exist in One, then Ky can't imagine how a District like Twelve must be fairing. It doesn't seem fair, once again Ky is struck by the thought that his life can be considered lucky. The women aren't the only people he sees, there's also a group of kids playing with an old bicycle tire and a stick in a dirty alley to his left. An ancient-looking man eyes him over a coffee he's drinking out of a dirty paper cup.

This is poverty, in One.

He wonders if more people know about this.

Ky hears footsteps coming up fast and he tenses again slowly, ready to move defensively if need be but it's just Blaze again, falling into step beside him. She's loud and takes up space in a way that Ky has always wished he knew how to. It isn't a bad thing either, really almost comforting that she's walking with him.

He blushes at her outburst. He's never going to get used to the concept of people knowing him before he really knows them and he can't help wondering why he's so important to people yet again. He's done nothing to earn his place except being born to a Victor and Opal is always the first to tell him that Victors aren't worth idolizing.

People need something to hold on to, that's all.

"Yeah, Earnest," he says and smiles tentatively at Blaze, "I'm really just here for a walk, that's all. I'm not much for elbow-rubbing either really." It's true enough that he's socially awkward enough for three people but at least he has honesty going for him. On that note, it's time to admit, "Maybe I am a little lost, can you point me towards Victor's Village?"

"But first, how would you rate your quality of life?" he asks, "Maybe on a scale of 1-10, one being low."

He's never been one to miss out on a little bit of data collection.