teacher's pet | v + ☀

[Python]

venus azrael

An assortment of treats had been lined up horizontally across his desk: cherries, grapes, cheese cubes, sugar cubes, crackers, chocolates, chips, strawberries, and pretzels. All important papers and documents were cleared away for the purpose of creating the appropriate teaching environment. The foods were potential reinforcers; their Avox, now having spent the past couple months under their roof, did not respond well to his teachings. He needed a catalyst, something to motivate him into responding to the sign lessons. The language barrier was murky; he couldn’t read or write, and his signing was limited. In case of emergency, he needed a real method of communication other than meaningless, spastic gestures that wouldn’t convey a message if, say, Vepar or himself were to be injured.

These lessons were the solution, but so far the Avox seemed uninterested. Food was historically one of the most potent reinforcers, but he knew nothing of the Avox’s sensory preferences. He only knew what he had carefully observed, like his fondness for solitude. Given his history with an abusive master – which had been clearer during the physical exam, palpating his malnourished body for signs of abnormalities other than the obvious scars – it was no surprise that he was timid, silent, and hesitant. He reminded Venus of a cat, perfectly discreet. He often appeared in doorways when Venus least expected it. It wasn’t startling as much as it was impressive.

Venus glanced at his watch. The Avox was due in one minute, four o’clock sharp. He was no longer concerned with interrupting cleaning duties. Language was a priority. Communication was a priority, even if the Avox didn’t like him.

He wouldn’t let trivial things bother him. Maybe the Avox tolerated him, maybe he despised him. As long as he listened, it didn’t matter.

Venus checked his watch again. Four o’clock.

[gamemaker kelsier]

S U N This place is strange. I got up this morning and started on the floors in the left wing's upstairs hall this morning. I've been alternating on the wings every morning in an effort to keep them all clean. Sometimes Vepar comes home in the early mornings and he tracks mud in and when Venus is pacing, deep in thought he scuffs up the floors. It messes up the schedule. I have to clean the trouble spots. I've been getting up earlier. I don't sleep at night anymore, I'm afraid to. What if I can't keep the floors clean and they send me back to the pens. After these few months of living with these new masters I don't know if I could take it. So I got up this morning at three and I started on Vepar's mud tracks. The soap I use on the floors is a sunset and it's safe like the feeling of my Grandmother's hands tucking me in at night. But I can't spend too much time on the floors. Venus rises early and I have to start breakfast and from there I clean the kitchen and do the laundry and shine the silver and dust the finery and brush the couches clean of dirt and vacuum and hang the laundry and make lunch and do the dishes and then at four o'clock I have lessons. Nathanial always said that an Avox should not be allowed to speak. He caught me trying to learn once and so he broke all of my fingers, one by one. Now Venus wants to teach it to me. What if he breaks my fingers. At one minute to four o'clock I stood outside his office door, wondering if he would notice if I didn't show up. Venus was very precise I'd come to find out, he liked things a certain way. It was easy to mold to these preferences. Not this preference. The chimes of the grandfather clock in the main hall go. DONG. DONG. DONG. DONG. They're lightening in my ears and I am still afraid of what they might do to me if I don't do as I'm told. I knock, fingers curling around the edge of my sweater, carefully washed this afternoon, as I wait. My gaze falls to the floor as the door opens.

[Python]

venus azrael

The Avox was clad in his sweater, promising obedience with his punctuality. It was a quality Venus would always admire. ”Come in,” he said, stepping aside to clear his path. ”Take a seat.” He gestured to an empty chair and took position on the opposite side of the desk, eyeing the plethora of treats thoughtfully. He had not yet decided which one to test first, or if he would rather let the Avox choose for himself. Perhaps he wouldn’t even know what he wanted. Chocolates seemed to be the obvious choice, but he was hesitant to make assumptions. A severed tongue meant a crippled sense of taste; however, there would be enough of a stump left to house taste buds, and in addition there was assistance by olfactory receptors. Flavor was not extinct, so he had to enjoy something out of this assortment.

”Today’s topic will be weather. I figured we’d start with something simple,” he began, holding his hands up. ”The food is here as a reward. If you sign the correct answer, you can pick a treat out of one of these containers.”

He enjoyed teaching skills – it was part of his career, after all – but he sincerely hoped it wasn’t as boring as he sounded.

”These are the signs for hot and cold,” he said, modelling them precisely. ”Hot, cold. Now you do it.” He folded his hands behind his back and waited. The silence was an odd change in pace; normally, he stood in front of a room of students in body-hugging garments with water bottles jutting out of their bags. There was elation in teaching fitness, as if the room were abuzz with invisible energy. His students were cooperative, vigorous, and conversational. He didn’t sound like a drone under those circumstances. Now he was alone in a room with a reserved, undereducated Avox, and there was no telling how much he didn’t care about learning sign language.

Oh well, he thought. Someone had to do it.

[gamemaker kelsier]

S U N He tells me to take a seat and I can't tell if it's an order or not. Venus speaks like the words he wants have always been there, waiting for him to say them, to bring them to life. All he has to do is speak them. Each word sounds strong and tall all on it's own. Everything he says sometimes sounds like an order, as if he expects the world to be a certain way and so it is. I don't understand how he makes it happen, how he gets the world to step around him like that. It makes me sit down in the chair he points to, the same one he points to every week. I'm always surprised by the seat. It's wooden. It looks hard but the way it's built makes it comfortable somehow soft despite it's appearance. He shows me signs and I watch as he does them slowly. They mean words that he says as he does them. Hot. Cold. If I make those signs then it will mean hot or cold and I will have technically spoken. I will have made words. If I make words then I will get hurt. Nathanial will find out and he will hurt me. The signs are there in my head and Venus is looking at me, he wants me to do the signs back at him. Since he wants me to do the signs then maybe Venus won't hurt me but maybe he's tricking me. Maybe he wants to test me. I stare at him across the desk and he stares back at me, waiting. I'm good at staring. I can stare all day long. So can Venus. I know because I tested him last time. Maybe if I make the sign he'll let me go. I make the sign for hot carefully, nearly under the desk where no one will see it.

[Python]

venus azrael

He waited.

Silence was not precious in these moments of anticipation. Hope filled the void, but it was false. Staring happened to be the Avox’s most prominent forte, more so than his compliance with chores. It was unnerving because Venus had not yet learned to read him. His eyes were a clouded vortex of subdued emotions, likely an aftereffect of trauma, and while he had a background in dealing with collateral damage there was nothing familiar about this case. That is, he was nothing like Vepar. He had researched how to manage and care for Avoxes properly, and punishment procedures were the highlight. He tsked at those articles now. Webpages of worthless information, and for what? Frightening an already docile creature?

He wanted to express his authority with more tenderness than tyranny. It was impossible to do so without adapting an ice cold, copper tone that seemingly reflected a heartless mindset. That wasn’t the case at all; in fact, he wanted the Avox to know that he was more of an employed guest than a shackled slave. He had access to everything they did, other than the documents and luxuries in Venus’ bedroom, best kept confidential. Despite ordering him around, he was making an effort to incorporate him like family. It was unorthodox, but he thought it necessary. Pets could have luxuries and comforts – why not Avoxes? They were human. Depraved of basic human rights, but still human. It felt strange to treat his own Avox otherwise.

He audibly sighed. His schedule wouldn’t allow for more deadlocks and staring contests. He knew he would lose if he didn’t put forth an extra effort. ”Here, try one of these. You can have anything.” He pushed the bins of chocolates and strawberries forward, selecting at random. Everyone loved chocolates and strawberries, right? Unless he has an allergy.

There was an epipen in his room somewhere, just in case.

”Please, just try something.” I’m desperate.

[gamemaker kelsier]

S U N I wait for the pain that should come with the movement of my hands but it never does. Nathanial was fond of tricking me, of ordering me to copy a sign he had just made and then punishing me for attempting speech when it was against the rules. He said it was his way of testing my obedience. Maybe this was a test too. I flinch when he moves but it is not to hurt me, he pushes some bins of food towards me. Vepar and Venus like to give me strange foods to try, things I’d never seen before coming here. My Grandmother was poor and we survived off of the wild game that lived off of the berries in the forest behind the house. Nathanial only fed me sometimes and never anything nicer than what he thought was fit for an Avox. I was used to fasting. My new masters are always trying to give me food. I don’t understand. The bins he’s shown me contain two different things. One of them holds a small pile of brown shapes, the other holds glistening red things. Some of the glistening red things are wrapped in the brown. It isn’t Avox food. It’s Nathanial food. I am not allowed it. Carefully, I raise my head to look at Venus before dropping my gaze again. I can’t decide whether him asking me to eat something was an order or not. If I don’t try something he could get mad at me. He might hit me. If Nathanial finds out that I’ve been eating people food he will hit me. If he finds out. I snatch one of the brown things out of the bin at random and pop it into my mouth, trying to catch it with my teeth in order to chew it. It sticks to them, a messy gob of pure evil at the center of it latching onto me, holding on for dear life. I have no tongue to work it off with. It has the sweetness of a blackberry times one hundred and makes my jaw ache painfully. I stick my fingers in my mouth and tug it free, scooping it away from my teeth. I think it wants to steal them. Maybe this was a punishment.

[Python]

venus azrael

He always noticed when the Avox flinched. It was a brief glimpse into his past, a reminder that he needed to be gentle. He was naturally prompt and straightforward in his motions; graceful, yet precise. It was easy to forget how sensitive a human being could be. The Avox was still adjusting to this environment, to the new lenient rules. Perhaps he would never fully adjust, but he had prepared for that. Adam had made it very clear that this would not be a breeze, hence the six-month contract allowing return upon any dissatisfaction.

He was determined to shred that contract.

It was a challenge, not an impossibility, and it would require patience. He nodded when the Avox’s uncertain gaze found his. Eat it, go ahead. He watched the Avox select a piece of chocolate and pop it into his mouth. They had a strange way of chewing, courtesy of their severed tongues. Some used their fingers to maneuver the sticky foods around their teeth. Chocolate might’ve been a mistake, by the looks of it. Too chewy. The discomfort was evident in his demeanor.

”We can cross chocolate off the list,” he murmured, mostly to himself, carefully sliding the bin of chocolates toward himself. ”Try the strawberries instead. They’re much easier to chew.”

[gamemaker kelsier]

S U N The sweet thing sticks to my fingers and my teeth. I scratch my nails against them, desperately trying to work it free. I've never liked weird things in my mouth and this one tastes like the way a field full of cows look. I wonder what anyone might see in it. When I finish scraping it out I chance a glance at my Master across the desk to see if he is pleased with the punishment he laid on me but there is nothing in his features to suggest that he is angry with me. It is strange. If Master Vepar is an open book with his heart on his spine than Master Venus is a closed ledger locked safely away in a desk. He gives barely anything away and it scares me. I do not know what he is thinking. Quietly I drop my gaze again and contemplate where to dump the sticky sweet mess in my hands. My teeth clench at the remembrance of the weird pain in my jaw, like a spider bite. It plays again in my head and I nearly wince. I do not like these brown things. They are traps, lovely looking but surely evil. I watch, docile and still as he slides the bin away from me and I understand that the punishment is over. My shoulders fall the slightest bit in relief. I hate this strange game we play. ”Try the strawberries instead. They’re much easier to chew.” That was a command if I ever heard one and without thought or comprehension my fingers reach carefully into the bin of strange red and touch the wet hide of a glistening strawberry. I cannot stop the moment of hesitant terror that keeps the berry from my lips for a fraction of a second, the ache in my jaw from the sweet still burns, but even if it were poison I would drink it down. An order is an order. The berry is wet inside of my mouth and shaped funny, like a rounded cone. I tilt my head to the side in order to catch it with my teeth, brows furrowed in concentration at the task of eating. My teeth penetrate the skin as if it were made from the thinnest of skins and juice floods into my mouth, sweet but bitter all at once and tasting of home and a sputtering fire before bedtime. I mash the berry to a pulp in my mouth, shutting my eyes slightly at the bittersweet taste. It's no longer red but the silkiest colour of burgundy that I have ever felt. I can feel my mother's hands, sad and made thin by pain, brushing the hair back from my forehead. The berry is sweet but good. I savour each small piece until there is nothing left and my mouth is left tart and expectant. Then I understand; the food was not a punishment, the one before this was just a mistake. I glance at Master Venus' face again and this time I see in the straightness of his lips and his unblinking stare something other than nothing. The Strawberry was a prize, a reward, a gift. I do not understand, my head tips to the side in confusion without meaning to and I want to ask him why. I do not know the sign for why but if I shut my eyes and think I can remember the way that the Avox' in Nathanial's kitchen hands looked when she tried to teach me the alphabet beneath the table. w. h. y. I ask him, forgetting for the smallest of moments in the wake of the burgundy strawberry with my mother's hands that he might still break my fingers, one by one by one by one.