>(Acquaintances)< [Semper;Closed]

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luk brookstein
~Here, have a look at my bio~

Avox:

1) noun - A person; usually a traitor to Panem, who has their tongues surgically removed and used as labor/domestics in the Capitol
2) adjective - A Capitol phrase, used to describe quiet folk. Rarely used, as most people in the Capitol tend to be loud.

Avoxes. They're traitors, rebels. Malignant tumors that have been removed as a threat from society. I personally don't like Avoxes. I do perfectly well on my own in my small apartment. It's neat and clean. And I'm an okay cook.

So why am I here? If I had to define "here", it'd be described as the "Avox Drop-Off Center". This here place is where I'm able to get my own Avox who's supposed to clean and cook. Although the fact that I can do this all on my own is ignored by my parents, who really want me to relax a little. Relax a little? I can't do that. There's work to be done.

I have to work on my reports. We aren't getting any views at all. People like going to Channel 777 for their news. Lucky Numbers I guess.

So once again, why am I here? Well there can be a variety of reasons that pertain to the fact that I'm waiting on line to pick out my own bloodied-up avox who's been through more hardships in one day than the amount of hardships I've had in my lifetime.

But the main reason is that it's a social thing. It sounds disgusting when I say that. It's a social thing to own a person. I would have thought that we'd all learn that slavery is illogical and immoral, but I guess Avoxes don't' count as people to us Capitolites.

I arrive at the front of the line. The woman there has peppermint red hair and large blue glasses that make her look ten times older than she actually is. She asks me my name, and I give it to her obviously. There's not much need for secrecy here in the Capitol, unless if you count cheating on your significant other need for lying.

I'm led into a long hallway. The walls and floor are the brightest white that I've seen in my life. There are windows on both sides of the hall. I can see all of the captured avoxes from here. However, since the window is only one-way, they can't see me.

It's a bit disturbing to have to do this. I mean, here I am - a perfectly healthy being, choosing a beaten up boy or girl to do my errands for me. That's not logical.

But nevertheless, the peer pressure to own a tribute is exhausting. I look up and down, attempting to just choose somebody. But the perfectionist inside of me is yelling at me.

Nope, that one has too much ego - He'll constantly backsass you.

That's not even possible. Avoxes can't tal-

Backsass I tell you!

... Fine.

My eyes finally lay on a boy. He's so young - how'd he end up as an avox? My heart reaches out to him. I look at his face. It's a pretty nice face - Light brown hair, startling blue eyes. Fericia would attempt to seduce the boy.

Note to self: Keep Fericia Montgomery away from my apartment.

And for some odd reason, despite all of the possible consequences from picking somebody so young (and relatively attractive), I pick him.

Devroux Creighton. Hmm. It's a nice name.

Very original.

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[semper]

Devroux Southern-Hymn Creighton

I had never been on a train before. They were so big and powerful... how the hell could any human be capable of making such a magnificent machine? And it travels so fast, too; a hundred miles an hour, maybe? Or four hundred? Five hundred? Maybe even a thousand? I don't know. But what I do know is that they scare me. Quite a lot. I mean really; when you're going that fast around some of these turns, it's a wonder the rail car doesn't just flip over and kill us all. And being trapped in the claustrophobic room they had me locked in -- well, I won't even go there.

Ever since I had left the Detention Center, I had been treated the way an Avox was supposed to be treated: like human trash. No one gave me a second look, or a choice, or anything, really. Seriously, I hadn't eaten in two days. The moment I had been taken from my DC cell I was locked in the rail car room with nothing but running water and nothing to do.

But that was all about to change, I guess. As they took me from the train and into the Capitol, I was struck with both awe and horror. Awe because it was such a massive place with astounding buildings and what-not; but horror because it all looked like a freakin' rainbow. Really, who could live in a place like this? It was like a strange fantasy land full of pixies and nymphs and things of that nature.

Very, very strange....

I was taken into a blindingly white building, and the brightness actually forced me to squint my eyes to get used to the inane whiteness. Nearly blind as I'm dragged through the hall, it doesn't surprise me when they literally shove me into another cell, but this time, there was no Marcuss. I was by myself with no one to talk to but the bleached white walls. Heh. Maybe I could paint on this wall with my blood. I absentmindedly looked down at my wrist, examining the thick line of scabs that covered the gash I had made with the rock in the DC. Those walls were covered in the blood of two prisoners, a rebel and an Avox, and most of the crimson pictures told a story. But on these walls, I was actually scared to even touch them. Maybe I would get shot for even looking at them....

And I stare at them for hours, maybe even a day or two; I couldn't tell how long. I was pretty sure my eyes would never be able to adjust to any color other than white, but that wasn't my main concern: I was starving. Literally. Even the mere thought of food sent my empty stomach into a twisting, hallow pain, making me nearly double each time. How long had it been since I last ate? Two days on the train, and maybe another day or two here in this damn cell. As I swallowed hard, I could feel my parched throat burning. Sheesh.... I'd take living in the woods over this hell any day. You'd think they'd treat slaves with at least some human dignity so they could actually work and not wither away.

I'm not sure how long it was, but soon I hear the door opening to my cell. Blinking, I look up from where I was lying, having to squint as the whiteness began to disappear through the open doorway. I actually end up having to raise a hand to block out the light that was burning my eyes, but that was a mistake. Whoever was in my cell harshly grabbed my scabbed wrist, hauling me to my feet and slapping on a pair of handcuffs to me tightly. Well, this sucks.

As my eyes begin adjusting, I see that I'm being leg by a bulky older man who seems to loathe me even though I had just met him. He yanks me around to face another man -- a Capitolite, I assumed, since I was in the Capitol -- and handed a set of keys to the man with auburn hair. Was--... was he going to be my new "owner"? Since I had been living in the woods, I had only heard stories about these so-called "oweners"; most of them were decent, but of course there were some that were the devil. To be honest, I never really thought I would end up a slave to someone....

To be at the mercy of someone you're supposed to call "master" just seemed strange. But hey, I can't even talk, so he's going to have to get over the whole master thing. Being thrown into servant-dom for someone who I don't even know? That's pretty much like shoving a puppy at someone's face and telling them to train it to play cards, or something. It just doesn't really work out at first. And to have a starved and beaten Avox to do your bidding? A broken and weakened mule, that's all they saw me as.

I couldn't help but keep my gaze downward as I faced the man, feeling my spirit crumble almost instantly. I didn't stand a chance against this guy, even if I desperately wanted to escape. Getting back to District 5 was going to be long and torturous -- if I could even get out of the Capitol first. Or even get away from this guy. For all I knew, he would shoot me on the spot if he caught me trying to escape; so what was the use? You left Lily with the possibility of being pregnant. Don't you want to go check on her? Make sure she's alright?

Dammit.

The cold iron of the handcuffs was rubbing irritably against the thick scabs on my wrist, and I could feel the crusted clumps slowly beginning to be torn off. Shit, that hurt; it felt like a hundred bees stinging me in one spot whenever the tight cuff took off a scab, and as much as I didn't want it to, I could feel the heat coming from my blood as it began trickling out of the wound and slicking the inside of the handcuff. That wasn't good -- I needed these damn things off before it decided to just reopen the entire wound.

Just look submissive and don't talk back. Do what you're told and you'll do fine. But what did I know? Nothing. I was just as clueless as a stranger in a strange land. The sooner I could appeal to this man -- I inwardly cringed at the thought of "slave" -- the sooner I could possible get the handcuffs off.

I stayed silent; waiting, waiting, waiting.....

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luk brookstein

Some guy walks up. He doesn't look like the average Capitolite. In fact, I doubt that he's from the capitol. He's grungy, hefty and looks like he's had a few shrooms or so. Ugh. I almost recoil at the smell of the older man's breath - it's disgusting. What, has he not brushed his teeth like, ever? I shiver at the thought of not having personal hygiene. It must be disgusting to be someone with greasy hair and oily skin.

I was wrong - The Avox's eyes aren't blue. They're an odd hazel-ish color. It seems really odd that I'm going to have to start commanding him to do things. To be honest, I'd rather just go off and see the world than have an Avox. But my parents are just... really annoying.

"Honey, we can go to District 10 on our vacation! Why not get an Avox instead?"

"Eww sweetie, why would you want to go there? I want to go to the 53rd Arena."

"But we went there for our honeymoon!"

"Alright alright! I'll get a freaking avox! Just stop talking!"

I cringe at the thought of having my parents meet... what's his name again? Oh right, Desperoux... no that's not it.

But anyways, the grungy smelly man hands me some keys. I assume that they're for the handcuffs wrapped around... my avox's... hands.

Speaking of hands, what... what happened? Is that blood? Is he depressed or something? Will he try to jump out of a window as soon as we reach the top floor of the apartment? Normally I'd consider myself lucky that I have a penthouse, but if he's going to jump... Well not only would I have to pay for a new window, but he'd be dead. And that wouldn't be pretty.

I'm forced to sign a bunch of papers now. At this point in the... I'll call it adoption... I'm too stressed out about the possible window damages and possible deaths of avoxes to really pay attention to the form. But I skim it over anyways. It looks pretty good, except I'm going to have to negotiate on the price... I don't have enough money.

So after a few minutes of haggling, I manage to get Devroux for free. I guess a little kiss on the cheek isn't so revolting. The peppermint-hair girl giggles like a little schoolgirl when my lips meet her cheek. I wonder if she gets this often...

But anyways, we're out of that blindingly white light. People are wandering about, watching the games on the television. I turn to watch the D5 girl being stabbed in the stomach by some hybrid-horse thing. What's it called, a hyord? Yeah, that's it. Two districts are out of the running now. Districts 5 and 10, I think.

I walk across the street, gesturing to the avox to follow. It's empty right now - this street has been closed because so many people mill around here to watch the games. The city circle is more popular, but it quickly get filled up, causing annoyance. I groan. I really should be working... I don't need a day off...

I get into the driver's seat of my red car. It's older than others, but it's a beauty. I notice that the curl in my hair's falling into my eyes again, so I brush it off.

"So... Devroux. I'm Luk, your... well you know." I mutter. This isn't morally right. I just know it.

But social status are what's needed in this dog-eat-dog-capitol-world. And I'm going to need to be the alpha male

[semper]

Before I even really realize it, the guard walks off, taking with him the superior atmosphere. I hesitantly watch him leave -- only from the corner of my eye, though, because I figured that a servant looking a Capitolite in the eyes would be considered worthy of harsh punishment. The keys to my freedom were in my new "Master's" hands, and I was trapped, shackled, bleeding, and starving.

So now the guy's forced to sign papers; most likely stripping me of any freedom or dignity I still had preserved in my short life. Great, just great. My life just keeps down spiraling at warp 90 speed and I can't stop it.

The scabs underneath the tight shackles were driving me insane, scraping and tearing the crust from my skin. Damn it, that hurt... why couldn't the guy take my handcuffs off already? It wasn't like I was going to run away; I hadn't the foggiest idea where I was. I'd get lost in the Capitol just trying to find my way to the next street over. Not to mention I'd look like a stray dog running around; the guards at the Detention Center had given me the shorts and shirt Lily had gotten me before we were captured, but now they were all filthy with grass, dirt, and blood stains.

Lily....

I hoped desperately that she was okay. I hadn't seen her since we had been taken prisoner, and.... fucking hell. I might as well just jump off a cliff. What if something had happened to her? I had promised I wouldn't leave her, and I intend on still keeping that promise. But how the hell do you get to District 5 from the Capitol? Maybe the train..... but how long would it take us? And how long had it been since we were caught? Eight or nine months? Great. Just fantastic. Nine months and--...

Oh no. Just.... oh no...

What if she was pregnant? Wasn't nine months the time it took for... for....

Well, now, I might as well just hand her a gun and tell her to shoot me herself. If she had to endure all that by herself, I--... I don't know what I'm going to do. I left her -- pretty much abandoned her against my will -- hell, I wouldn't be surprised if she hated me; wanted to kill me, even. And I wouldn't blame her. I would despise someone too if they promised to never leave me, but did, and it ended up that a little one was on the way.

I hung my head as I depressingly fallowed my Master outside the building, not even bothering to see the sights of the Capitol. The Capitolite could all go screw themselves -- I was in too much of a depressed, bitchy mood to deal with things now.

Hearing something close harshly returned me to reality, and it was then that I actually noticed where I was: a lot of sorts with strange machines in them. They all had wheels.... train cars? No, that can't be, they're much too small...

"So... Devroux. I'm Luk, your... well you know."

My Master, Luk, was in the freaky contraption. What..? Wouldn't it roll away, or something..? How was it just staying still? Was I supposed to get in?

I came to a stop beside the red thing, just staring at it. How had he gotten in? I think he had just touched the side of the red machine, so I cautiously approached the thing and reached out towards it--

SWEET MOTHER OF RIPRED, WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT THING?! The damn machine is YELLING at me! Or.... or.. whatever the hell it was doing: some loud, obnoxious beeping and blaring. I had yelped sharply and jumped back, face going pale. The red thing was still blaring at me, so I stepped back -- quite a lot, actually -- hoping that the thing wouldn't come after me. After all, I was shackled, so I couldn't do anything to defend myself against whatever it was. I could feel my heart pounding like a drum as I took another step back, eyes wide and evidence of my terror of that damn red thing.

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luk brookstein

He's not quite there yet. Has he acutally never seen a car before? when I applied for national travelling I was denied, so I've never seen the districts except for during the reaping, when I was sent to District 1 to record the event. It was dreadful. The whole time, people were trying to get in front of the camera.

But what I'm trying to convey is "Don't the districts have vehicles?" I guess not, I mean it's not likely that he'd have this kind of expression on his face if he'd seen a car before.

"It's okay... Devroux, it's just a-"

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP.

The boy quickly yelps and steps back from the car, his eyes wide open. He just had to touch the side, didn't he. I'm about to groan when I see his expression yet again. He's even farther from the red vehicle, his eyes clearly showing the terror that he's facing. And I start chuckling. This kid's pretty damn funny.

"Devroux, it's just a car; people in the Capitol use it to get around faster, see?"

I quickly point out the fact that many capitolites are traveling along the roads, driving while texting, eating, etc. They're going to get into an accident someday. Really. Which is why I never use my phone or eat while on the road - somebody's bound to smash into my tiny red vehicle.

Hopefully the boy doesn't notice all of the irresponsible driving (or at the very least, he thinks we're so skilled that we don't need both hands on the wheel to maneuver around).

But soon (or at least quickly enough that he moves before he gets run over by some woman with a ridiculous curly green afro), Devroux enters the car. I smile; it's really something, to see somebody experience something new (hopefully something good that is). Normally there's a sense of wonder in that person's eyes that's just so awesome to watch.

I turn the key, and the car starts rolling. Rush hour isn't due to start for another few hours, so the road's actually pretty clear. I'm able to keep a steady speed, which is to say, a miracle in itself.

I look at the boy. Has he even eaten anything since his captivity. I don't really know how Panem treats its Avoxes before the train ride to the capitol, so it's possible that he's extremely malnourished and dehydrated. I make a pit stop at a drive-through beverage place and get a bottle of water for him. The water's ridiculously over-priced, but water's needed more than anything at this point. At least, I think it is...

Luckily I have stuff at home to make something to eat, so we don't need to stop at one of those grotesquely unhealthy fast-food joints. I swear, the Capitol is going to become a whole load of obese people munching on fried apples.

Soon, I'm able to park the car in front of the penthouse. It's my shining haven amid all of the masses of those idiotic neighbors of mine. Unfortunately for me, the apartment has only one kitchen (it's one of those older ones. It's due to be renovated next month). It had better not be in use.

And I swear that if Mrs. Grossberg swipes my carrots one more time, there'll be hell to pay.

I enter the building, and without looking behind me, motion for the kid to sit at the table. I get out a pot, some ingredients, and soon there's a vegetable soup cooking. As long as the neighbors don't smell the broth, we're fine (they're moochers after all).

Whilst the soup is simmering, I dash into the elevator, and fly upwards to my floor. Grabbing the closest notebook, I zoom back downwards in a few seconds, stopping to say hello to a neighbor or two. I place the notebook on the table, as well as a pen.

"So Devroux... What happened?"

[semper]

How..... how the hell can they be in these things? Luk is telling me they're like -- like a horse: just something you use to travel with. How did those things move, anyway? As far as I could see, there was nothing to make it travel. Strange, strange machines... it didn't seem to be harming Luk, though, so I figured it was safe....

I hesitantly made my way to the car and got in, horribly unsure of myself. This thing was terribly claustrophobic and much, much smaller than the train car. Pretty soon Luk begins to move the machine and instantly I tense up in the seat I'm in, panicking silently and wide-eyed. I was utterly amazed at how easily he could control it; it wasn't like the train that had to go on rails. This red machine was on a road of sorts, sort of just floating along. I didn't even bother looking out the windows to sight see; no, I was too terrified of hitting another one of these cars -- I think Luk had called them -- on the road. If we got hit, I was pretty damn sure it'd be the end of us both.

And then Luk pulls the car up to some building, which puzzles me. If this was his house, weren't we supposed to get out of the car, not drive around close to it? I sat there, watching him quietly as he talked to someone, then after a few minutes was given some water. Oh, boy -- my parched throat began to burn like hell itself at the sight of the liquid. So cool, and crisp, and clean... and when he hands it to me, I take it politely, but within a span of ten seconds I've already drank three quarters of it, forgetting about everything that had happened to me in the past few days. This water was simply the greatest substance ever, even if it did have a funky Capitol taste. Certainly wasn't creek water, but it'd do quite well.

After a while in the car I eventually began to relax, settling back against the seat. It also was then that I noticed thin streaks of red running down my hand, dripping onto the cloth of the seat. Well, that wasn't very good... stains and all. I didn't want to make Luk mad at me the very first day, so I used what little water I had left and tried to clean my blood off the seat, though it wasn't working too well. Damn. Eventually I give up and just hope that Luk doesn't see it.

I was awed by the next structure we pulled up to. A giant house, I figured. Damn, he must be rich or something. I got out of the car after he did, trailing behind him into the giant house and up the stairs to his room.

Oh, wow. This place was amazing -- better than any other place I had lived in aside from Lily's house, of course. There were more items in there than I could ever imagine a house having, but what did I know? I was the one who had lived in the wilderness for oh-so long.

Luk gestures for me to sit at the table, so I do so. The chain connecting the tight cuffs on my wrists jingles as I set my arms down on the horizontal surface, leaving little tiny droplets of blood. Oh, great. Not again. I'll just have to cle--

What on earth was that smell?

It reminded me of vegetables, though I hadn't eaten those in quite some time. Potatoes, tomatoes, squash, corn, radishes -- my goodness. I could feel my mouth watering as I took deep breaths of the delicious smell, savoring it.

"So Devroux... What happened?"

I looked back down, seeing Luk and a notebook and pen in front of me. Well, this was going to be painful. "What happened?" That was such a vague question: how'd I end up an Avox? How'd I end up in the Capitol? It could mean so many things. Well, I wasn't even sure I should include my brothers in this, just in case Luk might know them. It could end badly...

I reached over and took the pen, opening the notebook and staring down at the page. Little droplets of crimson fell onto the white parchment, seeping through to the other pages as I thought. And before I knew it, I began to write; I wrote about everything after me becoming an Avox: how I lived in the woods, traveled to some Districts, and then met Lily. Oh, boy, I couldn't really go into detail here... but I did mention that we did "something" and how she might be pregnant, but I don't know about that. Then I moved on to the Detention Center, where I met Marcuss and painted names and pictures on the walls with my blood, which was leaving red streaks on the paper as I wrote.

It took me a good few pages to write out my entire story for my new master, but I did it. My handwriting wasn't any good, either -- just chicken scratch. Like, seriously. Not only was it hard to write with handcuffs on, but I haven't written in years, so I had to take my time with each scraggly-looking letter. If I didn't know any better, I would've guessed that a six year old had wrote what I had just done -- my penmanship was that bad.

Capping the pen, I placed it on the red-smeared notebook and slid it across the table back to Luk, hoping that my story wouldn't make him despise me or anything.

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luk brookstein

I'm an idiot.

Of course I would forget to unlock the poor boys' chains. My goodness, he probably would be moaning in pain if he had a tongue. But since he clearly doesn't have that, screaming and moaning is pretty much impossible. But still, I'm an oblivious moron. I move to unlock the chains, but the soup starts to overflow.

Goddamit, this isn't very good, is it. I manage to get most of the food under control, scooping the (hopefully flavorful) mixture into a large bowl, and setting it down in front of the boy. Then again, he can't even freaking eat with his hands locked together like that. I try to fathom how he even managed to drink the water that I bought him. But that's not important right now. What is important is that the boy's wrists become comfortable soon.

However, that's not possible, for the boy has already started to write on the paper, bits of blood dripping off of his wrists as he scrawls his penmanship across the paper. I look at both the blood and the hand-writing in disdain. Bad hand-writing is one of my pet peeves. How is one to become a good writer if they can't even read their words? It's stupid.

By the time the boy is finished with writing, the pad of paper has a significantly bright reddish hue to it. Swiftly, I search for the key in my pockets, but it... it's not there. I find it lying outside the door. It must have fallen from my pocket or something. But there's no time to fret about that. He's already given the pad to me, but I need to unlock his chains first. He won't run. There's nowhere to go to anymore.

The handcuffs finally lodge themselves open, and I quickly throw them into the trash chute, hearing it land with a loud clang at the bottom. I hope nobody was under that chute when the handcuffs came down. Being hit with metal is not something that people really like to have happen to them (unless of course, one is aroused by pain, but that's a different story). But now his writs are freed. Of course, they're bloodied, but free. I quickly get a spoon from a drawer. The soup has cooled enough for an avox to eat it. At least, I'm pretty sure that it's cool enough.

I take the next few minutes to decipher Devroux's chicken-writing. It's rather scratchy and hard to read - the pen was used often, and was running out of ink. But his handwriting isn't that bad. I'm able to read most of it. So let's see here...

...

.....

..........

So... that's what happened. He might have a child on the way. How old is this guy? He's not even twenty yet and he's already done more stuff than I. However, that's not important. No, not at all. I never knew how prisoners were treated... This would make an amazing story for the channel...

No. It wouldn't be right. This is Devroux's story, and his alone. I am merely a supporting character in his schemes. So what happens now? Is he to remain my avox for the rest of his life? Will I punish him for his sins? Will I let him go? We have reached a fork in the road, and my decision will affect which way we turn.

What if we were to leave the Capitol? No, that'd be ridiculous. But... we could, and then he could see that girl. There's nothing wrong with that, right? Wait, yes there is. We would be breaking the law - I'd never be able to return here ever again. I'd lose all of my earthly possessions, all of the sacred electronics would go to waste - there would probably be GPS or something to track somebody down.

... I'm acting like them, aren't I. All of my life, I've strived to be different from the stereotypical Capitolite. I was valedictorian in a world where education doesn't matter. I tried to shed light on situations that would have otherwise gone unnoticed by others. And what did that get me? A penthouse? Is that really what I'm worried about?

Gosh, I'm such a jack-ass, aren't I.

This isn't about me. This is about Devroux. And if I'm a decent human being, it would be best to help him in his quest. It would help me atone for my sins I guess. This secular world requires at least one person to do a good deed, or the world will simply crumble. Of course, the whole system of Panem is based upon killing teenagers, but that's somewhat entertaining... At least, from a Capitolite point of view.

But nevertheless, it is time for Luk Brookstein to stop being a stupid Capitolite. It's time for him to do the right thing for once. And if that means leaving all that he's ever known, so be it. He's clearly not going to trust me once I decide to help him, but that's understandable.

Who'd trust someone who watched the murder of people he may have known who didn't do anything about it?

I clear my throat as I walk towards the pantry, putting as many canned food products on the counter as possible. Actually, I grab all of them, for I've made a large food pyramid out of it. As I go get a backpack, I finally speak to the boy.

"You may not believe me, but tomorrow's going to be a big day. You're gonna see your girlfriend again, so get some rest. I live on the top floor."




(I hate you Luk, making me wait for days and then forcing me to write a LOT. You're just as bad as Gavin)

[semper]

I honestly didn't know what to think as he read my life story. Why had I even spilled my darkest secrets to him? I don't know. The part about a child was probably false, though; Avoxes can't really do anything...... I mean..... no. I'm going going to go there.

The smell of vegetables was absolutely overwhelming. The gnawing pit in my stomach was unbearable, and I could swear this was what starving dogs going after a feral hog: the animalistic instinct to get some type of food -- any kind -- just to get rid of the agonizing pain. Just get your mind off it. It won't do you any good to dwell over it. I shut my eyes tightly for a brief moment, trying to force my mind to wander -- and ended up thinking of Lily again; the way the sunlight lit up her blonde hair, the sparkle in her teal eyes, her soft skin--

Okay, no. I wasn't going to let my mind wander to that one moment, either. It was the sudden jostling of my handcuffs that brought me back to reality. I opened my eyes, seeing my mas-- Luk stuffing a key into the hole, turning it and releasing my wrists from the cold metal. The relief is instant as a rush of cool air brushes over the reopened cuts on my wrist, though they were stinging slightly. I turned my hands over, curiously examining the slices in my skin. Crazy thing, cuts are; blood pools inside of it and spills over, coloring dark red streaks across my tan skin. And aside from that, why doesn't the skin break any further from where it was already torn? When you rip cloth, if you spread and pull the material, the tear spreads further. Well, I know skin isn't like leather, or cotton, or denim.

Good gracious, the mouthwatering aroma of food is much, much stronger now. Where on earth was it c-- soup. Right there in front of me, just ready for the taking. My stomach lurches and it takes everything that's left of me to restrain myself, though my bluish eyes remained locked onto the bowl of soup, watching the steam rise from the surface of the liquid. Luk then brought a spoon over; I almost lunged for the small piece of silver, and as my body tensed to quickly reach forward, a thought struck me: that would seem horribly impolite to snatch up a spoon like a savage, especially in a stranger's house.

But he isn't a stranger; he's your new master. This is your new home.

My Ripred, that was a terrifying thought. I was never to leave the wretched Capitol for the rest of my life; no more forest, no more clean air, no more honest and hard working people. I was being forced to endure the lives of these people that find joy in watching children beat each other to death -- and I had to serve these people. Who knew what kinds of things they would make me do? Oh, hell, I didn't want to know.

The presence of the soup was almost to the point of nauseating. After a few minutes to let the liquid cool, I -- as politely as a starving man could -- took the spoon in my hand and drew the bowl closer, dipping the cupped silver into the steaming broth. I bet it's probably cooled off enough already, and who cares if it scalds my mouth? I was literally starving, but alas, the little voice in the back of my head was talking to me: Don't inhale the soup like a savage or it'll make you sick. Little bits at a time. I inwardly growled at the thought, but I knew it was true, and I certainly didn't want to make myself sick. I took little bites of the soup at a time, relishing the taste. My Ripred, you would've thought this bowl of vegetable soup was the last one on earth by the way I was slowly eating it to savor the taste.

Well, against my own will power of slowness, I was about three fourths of the way done when Luk finished reading my story. I pause from eating, my blueish eyes watching him as he stood up and went over to the pantry, starting to take out cans of..... food? Now, I knew I had been food deprived, but I wasn't that hungry--

"You may not believe me, but tomorrow's going to be a big day. You're gonna see your girlfriend again, so get some rest. I live on the top floor."

I was going to see Lily again....? My Ripred, he had to be kidding with me. I had no idea how to get back to District five from the Capitol -- I didn't even know how to get out of this housing place. How did he expect us to backtrack the journey that took me a good few months to travel? He was crazy -- he had to be. It would be impossible to find her.

But... wasn't this what I had wanted ever since I was put onto the train? To find my way back to Lily, no matter how long or hard the toil? Here was the perfect opportunity to proceed with my original plan, but with it also came question of trust. I had no idea if Luk was trustworthy or not; I had nothing about him to fall back on to see if he always kept his word or was like those people that stab you in the back every time they promise. I despised those kinds of people, and if Luk was one of them, I would never forgive him for lying to me about this. Sure, this may seem like a petty thing to get all worked up over, but it was the truth. I wonder if he sleeps with one eye open.....

Hearing the sound of metal against glass, I turned my gaze downward, noticing that the bowl was empty. Aww. It had been such good soup, too; but I wasn't about to ask for seconds. Luk had already been kind enough to make some without me asking, and besides, too much at once wouldn't settle well with my stomach. I set the spoon gently down in the bowl, hesitating. What was I supposed to do with it? The sink seemed the most reasonable place, so I stood up and picked up the bowl, cautiously making my way over to it, being sure to stay out of Luk's way. It took me a few moments to figure out how to use the faucet, but once that enigma was resolved, I washed the bowl and spoon then set them on the counter, not really having anywhere else to put them. My eyes traveled back to Luk and his cans, watching him a few moments before giving a grateful dip of my head and then heading upstairs.

Of course, I hadn't the foggiest idea where I was going. I simply found the nearest set of stairs that led up and climbed them, eventually reaching a short hallway. Well, now I was at another unclear decision: which door? Of course I wasn't going to just go door-to-door; that was rude, and besides, it was getting late. If anyone else was in them, they'd most likely already be asleep. Ah, how luring the thought of sleep was. My eyelids were beginning to feel heavy and honestly, at this point, I didn't care for a room. I just needed somewhere to go to sleep, so I sat in the corner of the hall, leaning my head back against the wall and closing my eyes. Despite the bright light of the hallway, I could feel unconsciousness coming, and no sooner did it arrive that I slumped over, entering into a deep, dreamless sleep.

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[shrimp]

(Luk just.... what are you doing? I don't even know... This post was crap I tell you, CRAP! xP)

Backpacks.

The wonderful nylon fabric bag that holds a treasure trove of goodies feels rather heavy as I stuff can after can into it. I knew that I should have gone to the gym a little more often. I mean, I have muscles and stuff like that, but carrying what seems to be around fifteen to twenty pounds on my back was much easier when I was a teenager. Now this man is twenty-eight, and he's not getting any younger.

Ah, those good old days when I was able to go and learn about everything Panem-like. I memorized many of the muttations that were present in the games - the Capitol has a zoo you know; all of the muttations are located there. After all, the capitol loves their mutts, almost as much as they love tribute bloodshed. The fact that they go hand-and-hand makes them giddy with excitement.

But I happen to dislike some aspects of the games. Sure, the capitolites can go around, thinking that it's all in good fun, but the tributes actually die. What happens to their families, who don't have somebody to support them? What happens to their friends, who become revengeful, hatred growing in their bones as they're forced to watch their friend be mercilessly murdered on national television?

Panem is built on a faulty system. Sure, they are able to distract the rich folk, the ones who really aren't affected by the games (except for those gambling idiots). But at the same time, they're creating turmoil in the lower end of the social hierarchy. It's just like what happened in the olden times - In their attempt to become more cultured, leaders and nobles enforced harsh punishments and taxes on their increasingly serf-like populations, prompting outcry and rebellion.

So once again, Panem is skating on thin ice.

But anyways, I still have so much to do - there's the fact that we must sneak out of the capitol, along with the important fact of surviving on canned food alone. There's a slight possibility that a can-opener could become lost during the journey, and I don't want that to interfere with our health. It would be a pity if we didn't make it to District 5 due to death by starvation.

However, hunger is only one of our worries. What if we end up getting lost? Wait... Don't I have an updated atlas in my bedroom? Yes, I believe I do. It has a map of Panem, from the districts to the Capitol itself. I quickly hop onto the elevator, and zoom upwards in a flash.

I don't see the boy when I reach the top, but at the moment my mind is focused on that atlas. I quickly rush into my bedroom and grab the large book, skimming through the pages until I can find... Hmm. So there's a train crossing to that arena over there... And we can jump off, and... Yes, that is a good plan.

The 12th Annual Hunger Games took place near District 5. There's also a pit-stop smack dab in the middle of the train route to the arena itself. So if we were to sneak off while they were getting fuel... We could walk to District 5 for the rest of the way! According to the atlas, District 5 is a hundred miles from the arena, so it should take a day or two to get there. Yes, I like this plan.

I walk out of the room and I'm about to go downstairs when... Where is that boy? He didn't go falling out of a window or anything... Did he? And so begins my frantic search for Devroux, who could be just about anywhere at this point. He's not on my floor, nor on the one below that... Not that one...

What if he went and got lost?

But my fears are allayed when I finally reach the second floor. He's just sitting against the wall, sleeping. Well he must be tired after being held in captivity for so long. I smirk. He really does have his whole life ahead of him. By the time that he's my age, naps will be almost extinct.

It wouldn't be a good idea to wake him - he needs his sleep. So I bring down some blankets, as well as a note. When he wakes up, he'll hopefully find that he's warm under that large blue blanket, and there will be a note next to him as well.

We're leaving tomorrow, at noon.

The tickets are booked, and we're due to "take a vacation" to the 12th Hunger Games Arena shortly. It won't be extremely crowded - the games are in full blast, but the conductors don't even check to see who is on the train, let alone who gets off of it.

So this is it Luk Brookstein, you're finally being a decent person. Hooray for karma.

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[semper]

It's a horrible thing, not being able to talk. You can't tell anyone anything specific, and if something, or someone, is annoying you, all you can really do is just make such a strange noise that they stop to wonder what the hell that sound was. You can't give directions and expect them to be fallowed, and you can't get a specific person's attention unless you hit them or something.

Unless you're like me and found another way to communicate, being an Avox sucks. I can't even say "hi" to anyone; how pathetic is that? And all because of the Capitol -- this wretched place I'm currently in -- I'm just a living example of their dictation of Panem. Sure, I could go out and somehow tell others why they shouldn't rebel against the Capitol, but what good would it do? It'd only give the damn Peacekeepers time to think of new ways to torture us.

But why am I going on about this? I don't know.

Anyway.

I hadn't slept that long in quite a while, and when I woke up, I felt certainly well rested, but groggy, nonetheless. Someone -- Luk, maybe; would a master do that for their Avox? -- had put a blue blanket over me, no doubt keeping me warm all night. I raised my hand to rub the sleep from my eyes, blinking a few times to focus. It took me a few minutes to remember that I was still in the hallway; why I hadn't been able to find a room, I can't remember.

I moved the blanket off of me and stood up, surprised when I saw a piece of paper fall off and land like a falling leaf. Strange.... I bent to pick it up and read it -- very slowly, of course; I'm not exactly the fastest reader in the world.

So we were leaving at noon? That was very soon.

Picking up the blanket and note, I headed back down the hall and stairs to the room I had first been in when I arrived. There were still a few faint red stains on the table, which saddened me a bit. I needed to get those off... maybe some bleach, but that would take the color off the table. No, I'd just try soap and water.

Folding the blanket neatly and setting it on the counter, I went to the sink and got a washcloth, soaked it and put some soap on it, then went back to the table and set to work. I scrubbed the stains as hard as I could, and even though I could get some of it off, it wasn't good enough. Hydrogen peroxide would work, but did Luk have any of that? I'd have to somehow ask him.

How would Lily react to Luk and I suddenly appearing on her doorstep? Surely she'd either slam the door in my face or just decapitate me on the spot. I was the reason we ended up in the Detention Center -- if I hadn't asked her to see my campsite, we would've never ended up there. But then I would've never met Marcuss, my cellmate-painting buddy. The memory of us painting the walls with our blood made me chuckle slightly, my scrubbing slowing to a stop. Absentmindedly I raised my hand and turned it over, seeing the still-healing gash where I had cut myself. Sure I had done it purposely, but not for reasons you'd expect: I was depressed and angry at the world certainly not depressed; I had just felt like being--... ehh.... artistic, if you'd like to call it that. But what would Lily think if I told her my blood now stained the cell walls? Would she turn against me if she hadn't already done that because of what I got her into? This reunion was certainly going to be a nerve-wrecking one. I shook my head to chase the thoughts away and lowered my hand back to the rag, resuming scrubbing the bloodstains.

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