{ fin } LIVIA TURNKEY | capitol

[Death]

Livia {age 8} - Livia is a know-it-all. Just because her father is some important big-shot lawyer, she thinks that she can solve every problem and knows more than the rest of them put together. She doesn't, of course, and secretly she realizes that. That just makes her more determined to make the others think she in fact does, and the result of such is that she rarely stops talking. Between half-right facts and handfuls of her own opinions stuffed down the other's throats, it's a wonder anyone can get a word in edgewise.

o D a i r

[Death]

I swear I never pout about anything. Maybe I sulk a little. I do sometimes have a fit or demand too much or cry. But pout? Never. Pouting is for babies and toddlers and I'm almost nine!

(In ten months. But nine is closer than eighteen...)

But mother tells father that he needs to deal with me because I'm up in my room.

"Pouting again," Andrea Turnkey says. "It's like she thinks she never gets what she wants! We've spoiled that child, Hendrick! Not only is she never satisfied, she never shuts up! I know we're a family of lawyers, but for the sake of my sanity, can you curb that tongue of hers? I'd turn her in if being a pain in the ass was a crime they could Avox for!"

(why would she say something like that? am i really that despicable?)

Livia throws herself against her pillow and begins to sob, her tiny-- almost skeletal-- rib cage throbbing up and time in time with the gasping of her lungs for breath. Hot, messy tears trickled down her face as though from their leaky bathroom sink that Father still hadn't called a repairman to come fix instead of her little tear ducts. Her brown hair was soaked through and clumping in that strange way hair has of doing when it's trying to dry.

(i just wanted to play in the rain with forest)

Forest understood everything better than anyone else in the world. Maybe that was because his lack of speech relegated him to being a listener rather than a talker. Livia talked. Forest didn't. As far as she was concerned, that made Forest the best person in the whole world to be friends with because he wouldn't say mean things to her. 

(i love forest more than my parents)

Sometimes, when she came home from school sobbing about getting a poor grade or people saying mean things about her, Forest would hold her and hum softly and then hold her face and wipe her tears away. He always smelled like fresh cut grass, or the pond and when she helped him with his work in the garden to get her sadness to go away, so would she.

(does forest love me?)

"I'll never talk again! Every time I open my mouth, words that people don't like come out and then they get angry! I don't ever want to use my voice again!" she stormed, punching her trowel through the soft earth where rose bushes would soon be planted. 

Forest grabbed her by the shoulders-- rougher than he ever had, with his strong hands squeezing her upper arms-- and turned her to face him. His brows were furrowed and he shook his head. 

"You can't tell me what to do," she said, pulling his hands off. "I'm gonna go do what Momma asked Daddy for. I'm gonna be just like you, Forest. I want to be an Avox and work with you in the garden for the rest of my life."

He closed his eyes and sighed deeply before he began signing with the few basic gestures they'd been able to learn together. He pointed at her (you), then crossed his hands and pushed them away (no) before taking his thumb and forefinger and pinching the air inside his mouth with them (avox).

She shook her head. "Not yet! I will be though!"

He sighed. He knew that look. Her strong jaw-- which would someday give her very angled features-- clenched as she spoke and her thin eyebrows furrowed towards those wide-set eyes. He pointed at her (you) and then turned his head to the side while placing a thumbs up gesture to the left side of his face (Capitol-person).

"I know that! But I can become an Avox too! Why wouldn't you want me to be your equal, Forest? Why can't I be just like you?"

Forest paused, his green skin becoming brighter and darker in the shadow of clouds rolling past. Livia's brown hair tossed in the slight breeze as she glared at him with eyes as green as his hide. 

He pointed to himself (I), then clasped his hand into a fist and knocked the left side of his chest twice (miss) before pointing at her (you) and then placing his finger tips at his own throat and swinging them up to his lips (voice).

(he'd miss my voice)

"If... if you don't want me to... I don't have to..."

He grinned at her and held her close to his chest. She loved the way he smelled. She loved the way he tried so hard to speak with her. She loved his face and his hands that were more callouses than skin. 

(someday I'll free him)

[Death]

Methinks it may be done!

[cass]

awww it's cute, those two together!

Accepted!~