thecapitol | Cat got your tongue?

Entry tags:

Cat got your tongue?

Who| Starkiller and You
What| Starkiller has finally been released after the arena incident and is now an Avox, so he's doing his Avox chores and stuff
Where| All around Tribute Tower
When| A week after the incident, so present day
Warnings/Notes| Avox stuff- mention of body mutilation probably

It wasn't what he expected. Perhaps it's stupid of him- he'd known of Avoxes, that their crimes meant they were never allowed to talk again and forced to be servants, but he'd never actually thought that his actions would land him as one. All signs pointed to getting tortured or humiliated- things he knew he could handle. After all, Darth Vader had never made life a walk in the park. He thought he could handle whatever the Capitol threw at him, because in his mind he'd already dealt with the worst he possibly could. The Capitol paled in comparison to Darth Vader.

He was wrong. At first he had resisted, of course. The whole point of his stunt had been to show them that they didn't have control over him. But then they started drugging him, inducing fears and feelings in him that made it almost impossible to resist them. And then the tongue removal. To his credit, he resisted for days, trying to hold onto his reason and resolve; that he was a free person. That he no longer would have to bow to any master. But eventually it all became too much, too traumatic. Too painful. A piece of him broke, and he couldn't put it back together in order to resist any longer.

Throughout it all, his motivation came in the form of memories of people he'd grown close to in his time in the Capitol- primarily Hans. It's hard not to focus on him when for so long, Hans had been the one and only friend he'd actually had in this place. Hans became his reason for getting through it- the light at the end of the tunnel, so to speak. Thinking about him made it feel like he wasn't so alone. It made it easier, in a way, and yet difficult in others. But finally, it came to an end and he was allowed to go back out into the world.

Once more, he was a servant, existing only to serve other people and being unable to do a damn thing about it. It felt awful- but their drugs had successfully rewired him. He didn't like it, not at all. More than that, a part of him was afraid to seek out anyone familiar upon getting out. He knew he would be punished, and they had done enough to him that the idea was terrifying. So he didn't seek anyone out, but he didn't let the fear get so strong that he avoided anyone, either.

He simply did his chores, going wherever he needed and doing whatever he needed to do. From the kitchens, to various district suites, Starkiller was there to either clean up a tribute's mess or take an order. He really disliked being ordered around to get food or drink for people, but he would do it. Refusing would only end badly, after all. All the while, a part of him hoped to run into someone familiar and another part of him dreaded it at the same time.

[Feel free to have your character run into Starkiller pretty much anywhere- just specify where. It doesn't matter if it's kitchens, suites, whatever. He'll just be there doing chores.]

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Azula was still sick and not getting any better.

Slick with sweat she was wrapped in blankets with a fan on her as her body refused to regulate it's temperature. Too hot, Too cold, shooting pains. It was enough to make her lose track of her work.

The data pad lay next to her pillow as she groaned in agony. "Shut up." She barked at someone who wasn't actually there. Her breakfast trey sat next to the door having been eaten despite her bodies protest. Now it was time for lunch and she knew that no matter what her churning stomach said, she had to eat.

Many an Avox had been tormented by Azula's short temper and bursts of violence, so it was not a very prized chore to bring her lunch. Still someone had to do it and today it seemed the new guy had drawn the short straw.

He hadn't been given a name, simply a room to deliver the food to. Starkiller didn't remember her number off hand, so when he opened the door and moved closer, his stomach churned when he realized who it was. He averted his gaze, for a variety of reasons. He knew Azula... wouldn't approve. He didn't like the idea of her disliking him just for what he did- but beyond that, he knew if he did anything other than serve her, the consequences would be horrible.

So he moved closer, not looking her in the face as he leaned down to put the tray of food next to her.

"Well it's about time..." She grumbled and glanced up to the door only to have her face twist in confusion.

"Starkiller? What are you doing here and why..." Her eyes scanned over his uniform and even in her drug and sickness addled mind she realized what had happened.

She didn't know what he'd done, but it must have been bad.

"I see." She concluded. "Well...do be more prompt if you want to avoid further punishment. Not everyone is as understanding as I am." she lied knowing full well she was one of the worst to the Avox servants.

But this was the first time it had been someone she knew.

It was about as awkward and uncomfortable as he expected it to be. He was getting used to having to wait for people to realize that he was an avox, but it still made him feel stupid and inferior for not being able to actually explain himself.

Starkiller gave a quiet nod, as he finished setting up her lunch. When he was finished, he stood upright and looked her in the face for a moment, before looking away, silently asking if she needed anything more. He really just wanted to go, though.

It took her a moment to figure out what he meant, having never spent much time talking to the Avox after having gotten what she wanted.

"O-oh!" She realized with a start "Yes, you may go." She paused "Does Hans know about...all of this?" She gestured to him and waved her arm to indicate what she meant as if he couldn't tell.

He was just about to turn away and leave, when she added that last part and he froze. Starkiller really hadn't expected her to bring up Hans, so he didn't really know what to do. So after a moment, he gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, a part of him afraid that drawing attention to Hans would be a bad thing.

It was small, but even when sick her eyes could be sharp.

"Very well...off with you. If I need something else I'll let them know." Her stomach was starting to twitch as she imagined the process as she knew of it. There were still alot of mysteries to how the process worked and that was in large part because no one wanted to think of what kind of torture could break someone so completely.

Feeling sicker then she had started and no longer hungry she watched him till he left and tried to fight back the flood of thoughts swirling into her mind about the Capitol.

He wasn't exactly a friend...but what if they'd gone after one of her tributes?

Would she stand up to them despite such a punishment?

A part of Starkiller wished that he could get a read on her better. He really had no idea what she was thinking, or how she felt about what he did. Was she angry? Did she intend on seeing Hans punished somehow? He didn't know- then again, she did seem extremely sick, so maybe she wouldn't do anything at all. Maybe her priority was getting better.

Either way, he gave a nod before moving out of the room.

Hans was worried. Very worried. There wasn't a person in the Capitol who hadn't seen the Arena debacle, despite any attempts to cover it up. Starkiller hadn't returned as quickly as the other failures, and it was impossible not to expect the worst. He'd invested so much time into Starkiller, forming a bond of seemingly mutual trust and respect, he'd hate to have to start that over again. At least, that's what he's telling himself he's losing here. He doesn't want to admit that there's a deep, dark place in him that has attached to the other man more than he'd like. In a place like this, it was impossible not to become a little gripped onto anyone who presents themselves as an infallible ally.

He hasn't entirely lost hope of seeing him, but he knows wherever he is, he certainly isn't safe. There's no sense dwelling on it too long, so he buries himself into whatever he can work on. He's been accepting all sorts of invitations with interested Capitolites, whiling away the hours by schmoozing and making connections. It's a little late when he gets back to his district floor- or early- he can't tell anymore. He enters the suites with a loud, tired sigh since he knows damn well most of his other district mates are still in the Arena. As such, when he sees a figure passing through the kitchen, he can only assume it's an Avox. A big Avox. They're usually much skinnier and, despite ordering them around shamelessly, he does take the time to familiarise himself with their faces.

It doesn't take long for him to put two and two together, he draws in a sharp breath before trotting after the figure purposefully. His arms stretch out to grab possessively at their arm, giving it a tug toward him before he closes the distance between them and all but slams against his chest for a hug. "I didn't think I'd see you again." He hams up the mournful tone, but he doesn't look up from his chest. He's worried about what he might have to look at if he does.

Starkiller is fixated on cleaning when Hans makes his way into the suites. He hears the heavy sigh, but he doesn't look the man's way. There's a bit of familiarity to it, but he doesn't want to assume it's Hans, and he doesn't want to look his way. He's to only acknowledge tributes if they approach him, first. So he carries on with what he's doing, before moving back through the kitchen. Out the corner of his eye, he sees him.

His stomach twists itself far more than it should. There's a confusing mixture of happiness and dread that swells up inside of him. Starkiller doesn't stop, instead he turns and heads in a different direction. A strong part of him wants to approach Hans, but he knows it would be a mistake. Still, in the back of his mind he's hoping he can find some sort of way to do so, even if the idea is scary. Could he offer him a drink? It sounded like he needed it, with that sigh...

Just as he's thinking about turning around and offering him one, he hears movement behind him and he tenses up. He knows who it is even before he feels the man crash against him. He stops in his tracks, his heart hammering in the strangest of ways- fear and excitement. Starkiller turns around, though he seems afraid to meet Hans' eyes, so neither of them are quite looking at each other. The tone tugs at his heart, and he wishes more than anything that he could say something. To tell him that he was afraid that he wouldn't see him- that it was Hans who got him through it at all.

But he can't. And if he shows too much emotion here, he's going to be punished. They both might. The conflict shows in his eyes, if Hans happens to look him in the face. After some consideration, Starkiller pulls back, hands clenched at his sides, before he lifts one and gestures to a nearby tray of drinks he keeps nearby in case someone asks for one. Hopefully the offer is clear.

There's a part of Hans telling him to stand up straight and keep his hands to himself because he looks pathetic and not in a charming way. He feels an unease welling up in him, like an anxious sickness, as a result of the rush of panic, confusion and regret for feeling anything at all. He's meant to be controlling the situation, but he can't control what he doesn't understand, he isn't used to such powerful twangs of sympathy and it's making him indignant. It's hardly his fault Starkiller made such an idiotic decision, he could have had them both in trouble if the Capitol suspected kahoots. Yet, despite all of this, it's very hard to unwind his arms. It's as if he's a little worried letting go will mean Starkiller leaves for god knows how long to do god knows what.

He drops his arms when Starkiller pulls away, furrowing his brows in confusion when he offers the drink in silence. He shakes his head, looking incredulous at the suggestion.

"What? No. Where were you? What did they do to you?" He asks, not hiding the demanding tone in his voice until he considers they're quite likely being watched and rolls it back. "Yes, fine. Fetch me a drink." He exhales in exasperation, not hiding the huff as he does.

Truth be told, Starkiller hadn't been thinking about the averse affects his actions could have had for Hans. It had been him who had made the decision- and if it had worked out, then Hans would have been free and not at the Capitol's mercy anyway. It'd been easy to justify doing it for those reasons, as well as for his own statement of freedom. If they had done something to Hans though? All of the drugs and inducement of fear wouldn't have stopped him from destroying the Capitol single-handed. Or at least it's easy to think that. It's probably the one thing that would have made him regret doing what he did- because despite these consequences, he doesn't regret it. Not really.

His only regret at the moment is not being able to tell Hans anything. What happened and why. That Hans is the reason he made it through it in one piece. It's funny how when you can't say anything, you suddenly want to say everything that's ever crossed your mind. Or when you can't, you suddenly want to do all of those things you were too afraid to do before. If he could hug Hans without getting in trouble, he would. If he could tell him how much he means to him, he would. It's easy to have all of the courage to say these things when you just fucking can't do it.

Starkiller's eyes fall closed in slight exasperation. It's also easy to feel like his circumstances are obvious, when he's gone through so much. He doesn't realize that people like Hans don't know that he's gone through a week of torture and had his tongue cut out. With a small nod, he simply turns and steps over to the tray, taking a cup off of it before turning back to Hans. He can't write notes, he can't speak. He can't really communicate with anything but a nod of his head, or a shrug.

He holds out the drink, finally letting himself look Hans in the face. His eyes are terribly expressive, and there's fear in them. Because he's afraid that at any moment, a peacekeeper is going to come in and take him away. That he's already done too much, stepped out of line, simply for wanting what he can't have. Starkiller looks him in the face for a few long seconds, before tearing his eyes away and giving a small nod, a silent way of saying that if he needs anything else, he can ask.

The gears are turning, a little slower than he's used to, but he's progressing. Starkiller is endlessly childish, but he's sure he's not stupid enough for the silent treatment. Unfortunately, it instills a deep discomfort and insecurity right back from his childhood. He was used to the silent treatment, and the cold shoulder and his brothers taking turns pretending they couldn't hear him speak. Starkiller is nothing like them, Hans knows that much, but it's hard to ignore the niggling idea that he might try to freeze him out for whatever reason.

He watches carefully, searching the other man's expression to pick up on what isn't being said, but he's having difficulty imagining what could happen. He can see the exhaustion and the pain in his eyes and while he doesn't feel guilty, it leaves an annoying sort of weight and ache in him that he doesn't often feel. He'll happily take the drink because he hopes a long draw of it will numb the unwelcome sensations and keep him leveled.

The idea of not being in control bothers him to be sure, but the fact that Starkiller doesn't think he can handle this either is worse. He's capable of more than that, he knows it, if he can't keep his second in command safe he can't very well run a kingdom. The drink is placed on the counter with a sharp tap and he's moving closer again, fixing his eyes on the other man's. He's searching for tough, authoritative words so he can nag Starkiller about his mistakes. Instead? He can only manage to put on that sweet act again. "I'm sorry." Sorry that he can only default to being charming and not remotely helpful. He puts a tentative hand on the other man's upper arm, looking a little careful about it until something in him clicks and he lifts it up to cup his face. "I'll make it right. I promise. I can help you, I'm good at this." The words sound a little broken, but his voice is steady and certain. "I won't abandon you now." Not when it's at a huge loss to him.

Starkiller would never shut you out.

The time it takes Hans to realize what's going on is impossibly frustrating. He's constantly battling with a fight or flight sensation, and he knows if this carries on too long then someone is going to notice and separate him. He feels ripped in two by how much he wants it and doesn't.

When it finally seems to get through to Hans what's happened, he nearly breathes a sigh of relief- but he stops himself. When Hans cups his face, his heart skips and then proceeds to nearly beat out of his chest. It's what Hans next that the fear manages to push through everything else, and his stomach sinks. No. No, no, no. Starkiller shakes his head vigorously, the fear showing in his eyes. One, he knows that Hans's actions will reflect negatively on him. Two, the idea of Hans doing anything that might put him on the Capitol radar is terrifying.

He keeps shaking his head, before taking a step back, turning away. He needs to keep cleaning. He needs to put distance between them. He doesn't want to, but at the same time he does. He hates the Capitol for making him feel this way. If he could just stay with Hans, then everything will be okay- but it won't. They'll both be punished. Starkiller starts walking away, and there's a part of him that really hopes Hans follows him, tries to stop him, something. Whatever he does, he doesn't want to be allowed to walk away from this.

Hans never really understood the purpose of Avoxes, he'd heard rumors about how they came to be but he'd never cared enough to follow it up. He'd also never considered the fact that it would be a perfectly easy way to make an example of a tribute. The idea of it sickens him, but he can't deny the clever deviousness of it. If there's a more efficient way to quench a rebellion, he doesn't want to hear it. He's searching his brain for a solution, because he deeply objects to having the one person he'd staked out as an ally turned into something useless and mute.

But in this, there's an opportunity. A chance to be important, to be the helper, to be the one reaching out to a needy idiot who stepped too far out of line. When he sells it to himself like that, it's impossible to let Starkiller to step away from him like that. Not when he saw that flash of oddly genuine emotion in his eyes, that's something new from the man. Something interesting. Hans wants to grab onto that little flash, so he will.

Again, he's stepping into Starkiller's space, showing him he isn't afraid so he can exude the confidence he needs to be trusted. "Hey." He calls out, his voice as stern as his expression. "Clean this mess up." He turns his wrist and tips the contents of the drink down onto the floor, dropping the glass with it. It pains him to say it. Or at least, he tries to make it sound like it's painful. He's curious about what sort of reaction he might draw, but he's looking for privacy.

There it is. That voice, stopping him. Just like he'd hoped it would. The funny thing is, the urge to ignore it and keep walking is incredibly strong, and yet the desire to turn around is just as strong. Never before has he felt so frustratingly pulled in different directions than he does today. It's only when Hans speaks again and it becomes an order, that he stops, knowing full well he can't actually ignore a direct order.

He turns just in time to see Hans tipping his glass onto the floor. His eyebrows furrow- he knows that it's just an attempt to get him to stay, but there's something about Hans blatantly making a mess that annoys him. Maybe it's a sign the old Starkiller is in there, resenting the fact he has to clean up after a mess Hans should be able to clean up himself. The part of him that knows it's just to get him to stay is afraid, wondering what Hans might be thinking of doing. The part of him conditioned to follow orders is stronger for now, his stomach turning a million different ways as he steps closer.

His eyes meet Hans's as he gets down onto his knees in front of the man. He removes a rag from his pocket and begins dabbing at the spilled drink, his heart thudding in his chest as he waits to see what Hans is going to do. In his mind, he's begging him not to do something that will get them in trouble- or at least himself. Starkiller's already been punished, he doesn't care what more they do to him. He just doesn't want Hans to suffer because of him.

Any normal person would probably feel bad using the twisted mind of an Avox against them, Hans is finding it to be very convenient. It's not that Starkiller isn't charmingly stubborn, but it's easier to get him to play along when he's like this. It becomes him, Hans thinks, though he already misses talking to him. Somewhat. He'll fill the silence with his voice instead.

When Starkiller drops down, Hans follows, leaning in to try and meet his eyes and moving a hand forward to brush his hand against the other man's cheek comfortingly. "All I want from you is to trust me." His voice is soft but there's an edge to it that dares him to object to that. As a symbol of his apparent devotion and in the hopes it might seal the loyalty between them, Hans leans in and presses his lips to Starkiller's. It's not his first kiss, but he can't boast much experience, particularly not like a man. Like this. The choices he's had to take here almost sicken him, but the freedom to take them makes it so much sweeter. He could have Starkiller if he wanted, and part of him does. Part of him is absolutely intrigued by the man and all of his quirks and oddities, his value is exponential.

And his lips are much softer than he expected.

Starkiller does trust him, that's the part that makes this so hard, because while he trusts Hans he doesn't think the man knows just what the Capitol is capable of. Hans may think he's got this under control, but with how easily the Capitol can take people and torture them into submission, he knows that if Hans pushes things too far then he's going to get the both of them in a lot of trouble. So far, Hans has skated under their radar, the last thing he needs is to have a target put on him.

But even in his worries, not even in his wildest dreams could he imagine that Hans was going to do what he does. Hoped? Yes. In a fearful sort of way, in a way that he knew is wrong and would land them in so much trouble. If he weren't an Avox, this would be a dream come true, but he can't enjoy it and that makes it into a nightmare.

A nightmare that a part of him doesn't want to wake up from, but he has no choice.

For the briefest of moments, he allows himself to lean into it, before he hits a wall of fear so powerful that he's nearly paralyzed completely by it. This is wrong, this is bad, this is going to get Hans in trouble. He tugs back, falling onto his bottom and scooting backwards. The look he gives Hans is one of great pain, because the last thing he wants to do is reject the man.

And so in a way, the Capitol wins, taking the one thing Starkiller wants and needs most of all. They don't even have to physically take Hans away, and this hurts almost just as much. For all the confusion he felt towards the man, knowing how he really feels and having to run away from it without a choice is one of the worst feelings he's ever felt. Love isn't something he ever thought he would feel towards someone, but if this is it then he can see why people are afraid of it. It feels like it's compromising his very being, like he doesn't even know who he is anymore.

How he managed to get to this point is a mystery to him. How one person could so thoroughly work their way into his heart and make him feel this way is almost as terrifying at the thought of Hans getting punished for this, or taken away from him. All of his life, he'd been isolated and forbidden to come into contact with people, unless he kept them at arm's length. Never in his life would he have thought he would get close to anyone in a place like this. But here he is, and yet he's helpless to do anything about it.

Starkiller shakes his head, and the look he's giving Hans is one that says he's sorry. He doesn't want to run away, he doesn't want to push him away, he doesn't want to keep him at arm's length. But he has to, both because he can't help it and because he knows that if Hans were to get caught with him, then Hans would be punished. He's not used to showing this much emotion in his expressions, but neither is he used to feeling this much, either.

He scrambles to his feet, ignoring the remains of the mess on the floor. Some other Avox can clean it up, but for now he just needs to get away for both of their sakes, and this time he isn't wishing for Hans to stop him like he had before.

Just when her mood was starting to get better, she had to watch the games, and see what happened between Clementine and Sandy. Because she knew full well she didn't need to be at the bar getting sloshed, she chose instead to break some things in her room with all of the aggression she could muster. At the very least she didn't need to go shouting stupid things like Sandy had, but she DID need to get some aggression out. If she made a big mess, those fucking Avoxes would be along soon anyway, right?

Another person Starkiller wasn't really looking forward to seeing. Mindy, in a way, had been part of the reason he'd decided to rebel. It seemed like in comparison to her actions, his ended much, much worse. So it was almost embarrassing. When he got to her room and opened the door, he stopped upon realizing whose it was, and the mess within.

It was going to be a long day.

He stepped into the room slowly, waiting for permission to begin cleaning, or further requests, while not making eye contact.

Oh there it was. They were already coming in to make the room all nice. She growled, turning to tell them that they could buzz off and let her room look like shit for a little bit.

When she saw it was Starkiller, she snorted. "Oh good, its you. Man, I was hoping you would be back soon. You had some balls, going for the grid, not that I could blame..."

Wait. He was wearing the Avox uniform. Why the hell was he wearing that?

"Starkiller, take that off. Come on. Seriously."

She was already knowing what was to come, but she wanted to be wrong. Badly.

The time it took for people to put two and two together was both embarrassing and frustrating, but he knew better than to let onto the fact that he was annoyed, or feeling anything at all. The only time it became apparent was when you looked him in the face, and saw the fear in his eyes.

So he didn't make eye contact very often.

At her words, he gave a small shake of his head, before he took it upon himself to start cleaning up, starting with a mess on the floor so that he could bend down and not have to look at her.

Mindy closed her eyes, clenching her fist. She knew. Of COURSE she knew. She'd seen what they did to Guy, the idea of pretending it was going to be leniency was dumb. How could it be anything but this, this awful, fucked up punishment? This was what they did. She knew that by now.

And all that meant was that she had everything to gain by fighting recklessly and getting banged up. She was young. She was a kid that didn't know how to handle her responsibility because she was a thug. Azula had said it so many times, why not let it be?

She walked over, palms bleeding from the glass. She hunkered down, helping him, not meeting his eyes. It was more of a gesture now.

For some reason, maybe as a part of the brain conditioning or his own fear, he expected to be reprimanded for his actions. For her to tell him off, that he should have done it more subtly, something. But instead, he was met with silence, and then she was helping him.

It was a strange feeling, and in a way he felt closer to her for it. Appreciative. They were both angry with the Capitol, and she wasn't judging him for it. He didn't think he would get punished for accepting help- he couldn't control her, after all.

So he smiled, small and subtle, grateful for her actions as he continued to clean up with her.

Her hands were stinging and she still felt that empty in that pit of her stomach seeing Starkiller like this, but even he could manage to make this easier.

"As a mentor, I should be yelling at you for what you did. There's messing with the Capitol and then there's outright defying them. But, well, if you asked my opinion, stuff like what you did makes things way more interesting."

Hell of a lot better than watching monsters ravage her friends.

Interesting. If he could, he would be chuckling quietly. It's true, in it's own way. What he did does make things... interesting. Painful to him and others, yes, but interesting nonetheless. In a way, he realizes he played into their games more than he intended.

He put on a good show.

But he nods, and he's glad that she isn't yelling at him for what he did. That would be demeaning.

He continues cleaning for a long while, until the mess is gone, and he stands back up. It's then he forces himself to look her in the face, silently asking if there was anything more she needed.

Mindy watched him a moment. She could see, even if they couldn't, that they needed to bend him to them because if he chose to oppose them, he would be a definite threat. What was more, he was a former Sith, they had to know that. Even if they were trying to punish him now, he would hold onto his hate and wait.

She could relate to that.

When he was done, she walked over. "You weren't the first person they punished, that I've seen. Try not to do something to piss them off. You're way more awesome when you can talk."

And you're better than them.

Even through the Capitol's drug induced fear and cooperation, Starkiller was touched by what she said. It was probably one of the nicest things he'd heard in a while, from anyone. They had come a long way from their first meeting on the network- he had come a long way.

More and more, he was glad he had met Mindy. She was proving to be both a good ally and a good friend. She was also good for motivating him.

A smile crosses his lips, and he nods softly. He can't say it, but he hopes she knows he feels the same way in regards to her.

Unfortunately, his time was up. He couldn't linger in a room for too long, or else they wouldn't approve. It was with a little reluctance that he turned and headed for the door. With another nod, he lingered long enough to hopefully convey that she could call on him whenever she needed him. Of all the people, she was one he didn't mind cleaning up after. Then, he disappeared from the room.

Jessica knew full well what was expected now that he'd been Avoxed. He wasn't an ordinary Tribute now. Now he was the slave of the slaves, the lowest of the low. He was meant to be their servant, and angry as she'd been over his little performance in the arena, she couldn't quite muster the rage that she'd managed with Eponine. Starkiller'd been Avoxed, so wasn't that punishment enough?

And anyway, she was incredibly ill. Barbie had come up from the District One suites to care for her, but she wasn't getting any better. Instead, she simply laid around the suite like a useless wreck, coughing blood into tissues, moaning every now and again. She was so into her own illness that she had barely noticed Starkiller's presence in the room. But when she did recognize him, her heart sank a bit and her expression softened, only slightly.

"Come here please. Let me see what they've done to you." Her words were a command, but not a harsh one. As far as Jessica is concerned, he is still her Tribute and she still has a duty to try to mentor him, even if she is awful at it.

Starkiller was getting used to dealing with ill people. It was rather disgusting just how many people he had to clean up after. But he did it without complaint- not only because he was incapable of complaining, but still.

The only thing worse than that was having to clean up after people he knew personally. Strangers, he could deal with. But people like Jessica, whom he'd talked to and grew to appreciate? That was awkward, because he had no way of knowing how they would feel about what he did.

With a silent nod, he stepped closer to her, avoiding eye contact.

She tried to sit up, motioning again that he should come closer. He wouldn't be asked to clean up after her. She'd been punished by the Capitol and understood how it felt to be humiliated.

Glancing around the room, she patted the sofa, indicating that he should sit. If no one else was around, nothing should prevent him from joining her a moment, right?

"I'm so sorry," she started, turning her head away from him to cough into her sleeve. "I know they told you you have to wait on everybody, but you don't have to wait on me, okay?"

Edited 2014-06-27 18:13 (UTC)

It was with hesitation that he stepped closer. He didn't know if he was really allowed to sit down with anyone, especially while he was on the job, so to speak. He felt a strong sense of anxiety, which probably meant that it was a bad idea to do so. But still, she seemed to want him to, so in a way it was an order, right?

So he sat down, keeping as much distance from her as he could. He didn't quite know what to say, when she said that he didn't have to wait on her. What was he supposed to do, then? It was nice of her, but it also left him without any idea what he should be doing- maybe he should go, then?

As a compromise, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a tissue, giving it to her so she could cough into it, instead. That wasn't really an avox thing- more of a friendship thing.

Okay, it was still an avox thing.

She took the tissue and tried to smile as the coughing fit overtook her again. After several moments, it subsided and she felt relief, even as the pain radiated in her chest.

"What you did was so reckless. I want to be angry about it, you know? But seriously..." Jessica stared at him with wide green eyes. "You didn't deserve this. Not even a little."

Starkiller didn't need her to tell him that- he knew already that it was reckless and that he never should have done it. He'd banked on simply being tortured, never avoxed. He could have handled torture, but this was on a level even he hadn't prepared for. So all he could do was nod, slowly and almost sadly, avoiding eye contact because a part of him was ashamed.

What could he do, to express himself? Obviously he could use words. Communication of any sort was punishable.

Really, all he could do was smile. So that's what he did, though it was small. He hoped it conveyed his thanks, because it was nice to have her sympathy.

His smile was enough. And she hoped he realized that she would do whatever was within her power to keep him from being hurt further just for smiling at her. It was all so unfair.

"Listen, I don't know if they've told you or not, but I'm pretty sure you're gonna get sent back to the Arena next time." It was not something Jessica was excited about, but she knew she had to help prepare him. "It's gonna be harder to find you sponsors now that you've been Avoxed. But I won't give up. Whatever I get for the others, I'll split it with you."

That actually surprised Starkiller to hear. He had been under the impression that this would be permanent, that he would just be doomed to be the Capitol's slave in the worst way possible. So the idea of going back into the arena actually made him look hopeful, regardless of whether or not he would have less sponsors.

At least then, things would turn to some semblance of normalcy and he wouldn't have to clean up behind people for the rest of his life. The idea seemed to make him relax, more than he had in a long time. The offer to split things with him was really nice, and it surprised him almost as much as the revelation that he'd be in the next arena.

The expression he gave her was clear; Why would you do that?

"You're my Tribute," Jessica answered, understanding the look in his eyes. "I never used to take being a mentor seriously, you know? But coming back made me realize how important it is that you guys do okay. You're fighting for my family and friends, so I've got to fight for you. And I'm going to do anything I can to protect you guys. I'm serious."

There's really no way for him to express his thanks to her, and that's one of the most frustrating things about this situation. Or at least, he would most likely get them in trouble. Is it worth it, to risk? She's a mentor, maybe she won't get in as much trouble as he would- if any.

So he decides to risk it, if only because he's that grateful to her. "Thank you," he mouths, and immediately stands up and turns away, because the anxiety and fear that hit like a wall was almost overwhelming, because it was that much of a taboo for him to break.

He gestures towards the door, indicating that he really ought to go.

She smiled, only slightly, just in case someone did happen in on them, ducking her eyes away as he stood to leave. She would do everything she could for him and for everyone else in her care. She just hoped there would be not further surprises, no more acting up, nothing that would cause her anymore trouble or grief.

Coughing into her sleeve, Jessica settled back into her nest of blankets and let him get back to his duties. "I'll be here when you need me."

As soon as she could get out of bed, Sabriel flung off the covers and headed for the door. She wanted to talk to Starkiller- tell him what his little trick with the forcefield had accomplished, tell him how brave he was, and maybe train together and explore the Capitol.

Then she saw the Avox tidying up the common area.

Sabriel was already deathly pale, but somehow she managed to grow a shade paler as she swore and stumbled towards Starkiller. It was like all the strength had been ripped out of her and all she could manage was to make her way over to Starkiller, nearly knocking over some plates as she did so.

"Star- Starkiller?"

Sabriel's voice was on level with Hans's when it came to dreading it. The two of them had been allies in the arena, and he hadn't told her any of what he was planning to do. In a way, he felt like it could be seen as a betrayal- at least a betrayal of trust, if nothing more. He wouldn't blame her if she were mad at him- he deserved it.

But what he didn't want was her potential judgment. Not after how much he suffered, and she was someone whose opinion he valued; that was a rare thing for Starkiller. There were some people he didn't care what they thought, but she wasn't one of them. So when he heard her voice, he tensed, nearly dropping the vase he was holding up for dusting. He set it down slowly before turning to face her.

He didn't make eye contact, but he gave a nod of acknowledgement her way as he steeled himself for whatever she might have to say.

"Starkiller-" Sabriel leaned forward, putting her mouth close to his ear. Her next words were more a breath than an utterance, "I'm so sorry."

She needed to find a better place, somewhere she wouldn't be overheard, to tell him how brave he was, and what she'd learned from his actions. But for now, letting him know she would not abandon him, that she would still work to help him will have to do. Hopefully her expression would get that across, even as she blinked back tears.

Sabriel wrapped her fingers around his wrist, and her grip was vice-link in its strength.

Edited 2014-07-05 04:08 (UTC)

Starkiller is taken aback by the emotion behind Sabriel's actions. He does tense up when she leans in, knowing she could get the two of them in trouble for talking to him too much, but when she pulls back and he sees the tears in her eyes, he isn't sure what to do. It makes him feel even worse for excluding her the way he did, but at the same time he knows if he hadn't, then she would have gotten the same fate as him.

After a long moment, he hesitantly reaches out and places his hand atop the one gripping his wrist, and gives it a small rub. It's to tell her thank you, and to reassure her that he's okay. Or at least, he's trying to be.

The touch steadies her- and reminds her of where she is, and what is at stake.

She tilts her head, imperceptibly, and then moves over to the pantry, grabbing a box of cookies and a bottle of some fizzy drink, and hands them to Starkiller, feigning irritation and dismissiveness.

"Take these up to the roof for me, I want to have a snack there- and really, was disrupting the Arena for a few hours worth this?" Sabriel used the most patronizing tone possible, hoping that anyone listening would interpret it as scolding, rather than an attempt to offer information. Unfortunately, offering too many details would make it obvious. She'd have to settle for letting Starkiller know his attempt had accomplished something as she let him to the elevator.

He watches her curiously as she moves to grab the box of cookies and drink. Given the emotion she'd displayed just then, it doesn't take much to realize that she's faking it when she starts acting patronizing. He's grateful for it, because it means they're less likely to get punished. A small smile plays at his lips, but he forces it back as he takes them from her.

Starkiller shakes his head in response to her question, trying to look suitably regretful for what he did. While he does regret it on some level, he doesn't in other ways.

Still, he moves over to the elevator with the cookies and drink in hand, dutifully pushing the button to take them to the roof.

She saw the smile, and barely managed to suppress one of her own in return as she steps into the elevator.

Luckily, there was a strong wind at the moment, so she risked another murmured comment as soon as they were away.

"You were brave, to do what you did in the arena," It wasn't stupid she almost added as she pointed out a bench with a good view of the city.

Edited 2014-07-09 03:43 (UTC)

That was good to hear. There were times when he felt like it was a mistake, when he regretted it, but for the most part he tried not to. Hearing other people say that they thought it was brave was nice. Validating.

He relaxed a little, the words causing some of his tension to let up. With a nod, he moved over to the bench before handing her the things he'd brought, hesitantly moving to sit next to her once she'd taken her seat.

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