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The Right to Live // [Glamour x Shy]
Oct 6, 2020 18:33:03 GMT -5
Post by Baby Wessex d9 [earthling] on Oct 6, 2020 18:33:03 GMT -5
[googlefont="Roboto Slab: 400;"]
if we don’t fuck this whole thing up
It was a pain in the ass to get into the Training Center discreetly these days. Everywhere he went as a High Council member became an Official event, with an Official Peacekeeper in tow and often reporters. They shadowed everything he did, from patronizing shops on style street, to cutting ribbons at the city's latest philanthropy.
Not that he was complaining. Glamour never complained. But really, anyone would feel the same way. Sometimes he just needed a little privacy.
Because there was no way he wanted to give a statement about this particular visit to the Training Center. What would the other Councilors think of him? Already some vicious, jealous Capitolites called him soft for finding love with his Victor. This would only fuel that fire.
So he took great pains to arrive unnoticed. He hired a taxi - yes, a plain yellow one! - and arrived late, dressed plainly in black dress shoes, unadorned jeans he'd borrowed from Leon, a black suit jacket with a grey hoodie underneath. He used the hood to hide his fauxhawk and kept his eyes downcast. His unshakeable Peacekeeper led him through a kitchen entrance, to the elevator, and pressed the button for District Two.
Through a cunning amount of persuasion (of the monetary kind), he convinced the Keeper to wait in the entry while he tiptoed around the apartment. An avox stared blankly, unnervingly, at him as he opened the bedroom door.
To be met by a pillow to the face.
"OW!" Glamour yelped, quickly closing the door behind himself. He fumbled along the wall, found the switch, and blotted out the midnight dark with the ceiling light. "Shy Aubergine," he said, huffing a little. "You do not get to surprise me. Not any more. What's happened in District Two? Are they in such disarray that no one would volunteer for one of the 80th immortals?"
He slowly lowered his hood, catching the gaze of Shy, who was no longer the little boy who had advanced so impossibly far in his Quell. This was a young man who'd earned the right to live. "Why are you here?" He asked at last.
Not that he was complaining. Glamour never complained. But really, anyone would feel the same way. Sometimes he just needed a little privacy.
Because there was no way he wanted to give a statement about this particular visit to the Training Center. What would the other Councilors think of him? Already some vicious, jealous Capitolites called him soft for finding love with his Victor. This would only fuel that fire.
So he took great pains to arrive unnoticed. He hired a taxi - yes, a plain yellow one! - and arrived late, dressed plainly in black dress shoes, unadorned jeans he'd borrowed from Leon, a black suit jacket with a grey hoodie underneath. He used the hood to hide his fauxhawk and kept his eyes downcast. His unshakeable Peacekeeper led him through a kitchen entrance, to the elevator, and pressed the button for District Two.
Through a cunning amount of persuasion (of the monetary kind), he convinced the Keeper to wait in the entry while he tiptoed around the apartment. An avox stared blankly, unnervingly, at him as he opened the bedroom door.
To be met by a pillow to the face.
"OW!" Glamour yelped, quickly closing the door behind himself. He fumbled along the wall, found the switch, and blotted out the midnight dark with the ceiling light. "Shy Aubergine," he said, huffing a little. "You do not get to surprise me. Not any more. What's happened in District Two? Are they in such disarray that no one would volunteer for one of the 80th immortals?"
He slowly lowered his hood, catching the gaze of Shy, who was no longer the little boy who had advanced so impossibly far in his Quell. This was a young man who'd earned the right to live. "Why are you here?" He asked at last.
guaranteed, i can blow your mind-dua lipa-
[/a]
