thecapitol | Love is Dangerous for Your Tiny Heart [Closed]

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Love is Dangerous for Your Tiny Heart [Closed]

Who| Linden Lockhearst and Nill
What| Talking after Linden's Avoxed parents are relocated to District 9's suite
Where| District 9 suites
When| Post-crowning after Linden's chat with Jason, several days after the Avoxes' relocation from 7
Warnings/Notes| Swearing and angst? Will update if necessary!

It had cost two and a half months worth of winnings, but Linden is certain that what passes for dignity in District 6 remains intact for him. His parents, a matching set of pale, dark-featured Avoxes have been relocated to District 9 in accordance with the contract he and Jason had drawn up and signed; they're far enough away from him and 6 to keep from drawing unnecessary and negative attention, but close enough to exist alongside friends who are sure to treat them kindly. As far as Linden sees the situation, it's the best possible way to handle matters for now.

He can see them whenever he sees Nill, which he's long since established that he doesn't need a reason for anymore. Fraternization is a rule he hasn't explicitly broken, though there are certainly rumors about the District 6 Mentor and District 9 Tribute, even jokes that together, they make "69", very funny among the cruder-minded Capitolites. Linden tries to ignore it, just as much as he tries to ignore the soft, insistent urges that prick and pull unfairly at him when he's around Nill. It's doubly frustrating because he's certain it's not entirely one-sided, but it is illegal now as well as heavily frowned-upon. Despite his sharp intelligence, Linden sometimes lacks for common sense, and he's always had an addictive personality, so tempering the situation by staying away is, quite simply, out of the question, even though he promised Stephen that he'd do his absolute best to keep his nose clean and not get removed from his post as Mentor. He rationalizes that he's managed to stay off Morphling and if Nill is turning into a habit, she is at least one that's much better for his health.

He lets himself into District 9's suite, glancing around for his parents; his father, as always, does not recognize him. In fact, he may never recognize him again, but his mother's dark eyes light up when she glimpses him. Immediately, she's off to fetch him a glass of water, one of the only ways she can express recognition and lingering, residual love.

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There are very few perks to not actually being able to speak your mind, Nill has found, but when they do arise they almost make it worth it. The first is when fielding the reporters and gossip magazines. Very few actually bother to hire an interpreter, so many are left with hand gestures and smiles - she doesn't carry her notepad in her hands when she's out of the tower, and because of this some don't try to ask her to write. She deals with the press significantly less than Linden does because of this, but it doesn't mean she hasn't heard the rumors. There must be at least one picture of Nill with pink cheeks floating around from the first time someone brought up the latest joke made of their supposed scandal.

The second example would be the situation with Jason the day Nill saw him abusing some poor Avox. If she'd had a voice his head would have spun by the time she was done with him, and not having one probably saved her a great deal of grief in the foreseeable future; even what little she did was likely to have consequences, as Linden had guessed, but it was worth it. Now, weeks later, she wishes she hadn't done it; if Jason had given any thought to the tributes in this District he might never have agreed to send Linden's parents to her floor purely out of spite. It was luck that he did, and Nill is grateful for it every time she does much of anything in her district.

While not claustrophobic in the typical sense, the curfew was something that left Nill spending significantly less time in her own District than most Tributes, and she's had to make a conscious effort to be there more often since the arrival of the matching Avoxes. She does her studying in the common room, and she tries to give them enough work that they stay relatively busy and don't need to actually leave the floor, but don't get overworked either. She's had his mother help with baking at least once, mostly for kneading the dough, which would hopefully not be enough to get either of them in trouble. There's only so much she can do, but she's done her best all the same.

Today her subject of choice is sign language - she's been teaching a few people that asked since she arrived, and teaching them has helped her to learn it better as well. There are at least two books stacked on the coffee table when Linden steps off the elevator, as well as a notebook open in her lap when Linden steps off the elevator. She knows who it is not by looking, but by the way the Avox woman heads for the kitchen immediately. When Nill lifts her head a very small smile flits into place, and the books are set aside so she can grab the notepad she actually uses for communication and rise to her feet. She doesn't actually move to write though, and instead just walks over to stand by Linden, the smile still in place. At least she doesn't need a pen to greet someone.

Reporters and gossip rags always manage to find people who are undergoing change. The nature of the change isn't nearly so important as the change itself; for as much as he tries to conceal it, Linden has been frost-locked in a personal winter that's lasted for over a decade, and the difference a little bit of kind spring makes is impossible to miss.

Where the Jason incident is concerned, it's essentially gone down as a Mentor having a severe (but fully expected) traumatic episode, and things have calmed down on that front largely thanks to the agreement Linden and Jason both signed not to discuss it with the media or influential people. Regarding old issues, Linden has slipped back into moderate to heavy drinking, but he has managed to remain off Morphling, which is an astounding victory for the Mentor. The result is someone who still seems lost and overwhelmed at times, but who at least doesn't shy away from seeing the world clearly, with all its beauty and horrors.

The next challenge is learning how to cope with all those great and terrible things in ways that don't require pills or syringes as catalysts. He's working on it diligently, turning frequently to his old love of reading, and as Nill approaches him with her notepad, he raises his hands and averts his eyes, signing slowly and precisely.

{Started...learning. No...good...yet. Practicing most in hard moments.}

When cravings are strong, in other words, but he doesn't yet have those in his vocabulary. It's stilted and unnatural, which he's aware and highly self-conscious of, but the effort he's putting into it is probably amply clear.

Though grateful occasionally for her lack of voice, it didn't make arriving in Panem with her primary source of communication stripped from her; telepathy, though not something she was born with, had become something she relied upon so heavily at that point that returning to a simpler means was almost depressing. The telepathy was reserved for people she trusted, which made the transition rougher. It was mostly luck that ever let her trust anyone in Panem, as well as another means of communication. Sign language. It's a much kinder and comfortable thing to have someone actually look at you when you have a conversation instead of staring at the paper in your hands. It was why she liked Rumlow despite not trusting the man for a moment, and how she had become friends with the Initiate almost right away.

It's also why when Linden starts signing Nill's eyes go a little wide for a fraction of a second before her whole face lights up like christmas, a bright smile appearing almost immediately. She's very quick to shake her head, and the smile doesn't falter in the slightest when she tucks her notepad under her arm and her pencil behind her ear so she can sign back.

{No. Very good.}

Much like with when she first began teaching the Initiate the gestures are intentionally simplified, the kind of thing that would be relatively easy to understand even for someone who doesn't have much experience under their belt yet. Nill looks like he just made her day, which he did.

Telepathy would certainly help to ease communication, if it was an option here. As it is, Linden has the feeling that so much of what Nill has to say would simply take too long to write, or make her hand cramp up. She has to keep her words concise and to the point as a result, and sometimes, people just need to ramble. There's a certain amount of safety that comes with her handicap, but that also means that she can't laugh, scream, or moan in pain or pleasure.

Communication stripped of sound definitely takes some getting used to, and Linden is attempting it the old-fashioned way: by attempting to learn something as ambitious and difficult as an entirely new language. In all actuality, his excellent memory probably does make him more adept than a typical beginner; what hurts him is his confidence, which Nill's enthusiastic compliment seems to replenish notably.

"Stop, you're humoring me... my fingers are so clumsy."

The Avox woman reappears with the glass of water. As usual, there's a restrained desperation to her close interactions with Linden, as if she wants to throw her arms around him and kiss him, but all she can do is brush her fingertips against his as she hands him the water.

In this room, people who feel strongly about one another one all share the same limitations, whether or not they're Avoxed.

He shakes out his spindly hands and starts a new string of signs.

{They look well. Thank... you.}

Edited 2015-04-21 05:25 (UTC)

Luckily for Linden, Nill has actually spent a good deal of her free time in Panem, when not memorizing stars or with other people, better learning sign language, as well as trying to come up with fairly easy lessons for the Initiate. Since then Daryl has also asked to learn, and now Nill has several notebooks full of notes and suggestions, foot notes, clarification for more ambiguous gestures, and so on. She's actually gotten pretty good at teaching.

(And if from time to time the books from early lessons just happen to be left out and open on the desk in her room, always to a very helpful page with highlighter pen on the especially important bits, then surely the woman avox with Linden's eyes cannot be blamed if she reads bits and pieces when tidying up the place. Maybe some day she could actually talk to her son.)

Instead of making anymore gestures Nill just shakes her head, smile soft and warm, but she doesn't make any moves to try to communicate anything else when the woman comes back. He gets to see her so little, and if Nill had the chance to see the people she considered family, she would never want someone to keep her from them for any real extent of time.

It's not until Linden starts signing again that she figures it's okay for her to as well.

{I like them.}

For a moment the smile is directed at the Avox woman, but only for a few brief seconds. The cameras really can't be trusted, and Nill does not want to risk the man and woman being moved to a different district just because she treated them as living beings.

{I like her.}

Linden's mother was an intelligent woman; both of his parents were, at one point but there's still a glimmer of it in her whereas his father seems wholly lost to the process that creates Avoxes. When Nill is studying, she has absolutely made sure to be working close by, recognizing that in this suite, she will not be reprimanded or slapped for her audacity.

The signs are easy to catch and comprehend, and Linden nods his agreement. He is sad for his father, and always will be, but he's thrilled for his mother, that something remains of her after all this time in the service of the Capitol. She's changed, of course, that being unavoidable, but she is at least still recognizable as...

Mrs. Lockhearst? Linden unfortunately does not know her first name, or his father's. He lost them such a long time ago and aside from knowing their occupations from hearsay, in District their names hadn't been spoken aloud since then. One of the drawbacks to being political dissenters.

He signs clumsily, speaking as he does so.

"Would you... like to go... for a... walk?"

The signs themselves say something a little different.

{I know somewhere we can speak more freely.}

Nill has tried to show the same kind of quiet courtesy to Linden's father as well, but it's a much more heartbreaking process when she does. She can see the obvious signs of a sharp mind whenever she looks at Linden's mother, the way her eyes move, the freedom with which she conducts herself depending on who is in the room. It's the exact opposite for his father; his dark eyes don't linger on much of anything unless Nill has had to write instructions for him to follow, and even then he seems to have difficulty with it.There's a certain kind of disconnect from the part of his brain that understands information and the part that actually uses it, or at least that's how it seems to Nill.

She fully intends to take them both out 'grocery shopping' with her the next time it rains, and it's not in Nill's nature to give up, especially not on a man that has been tortured into servitude for at least two decades. But if even that won't bring a spark back into his eyes, then she doubts much of anything will.

There's no outward reaction to the difference in the signed and spoken words, and Nill nods, a smile still on her face. She holds up a finger though, a sign to give her a moment, before writing something on her notepad and stepping over to show it to Linden's mother. Once she's sure she's read it Nill smiles and nods her head in thanks before going back over to Linden, already writing.

The first line at the top is obviously what she wrote for his mother:

could you water the plants in my room?

There are still rules about how long Avoxes are supposed to linger, so Nill has been trying to give his parents as many easy but time consuming tasks with added nonsense rituals as she can. At least then they stay in a place that's safe, and can even sit while they do some of them, depending on the request.

maybe you can start using sign language for interviews. my interpreter is very nice.

It's a very subtle way of reminding him that they do indeed have people who know sign language. Not even that is safe, though they won't think much of one sentence from someone just learning it.

Linden's father looks strikingly like him, and they have other things in common, too. He had fought the process harder than most, and as a result, broken more completely. He'd been strong... but he'd also been brittle. Linden has little doubt that if he were to be Avoxed, a similar thing would happen, maybe beyond the point of rehabilitation or response to rain. That was the chief danger of being pure and committed in all that one does, driven to either the perfect example of success or failure, but incapable of claiming a place in between.

"Maybe..." he mulls it over, seeming embarrassed about his obvious mistakes, even though it's probably growing clear to Nill that those "mistakes" are a lot more deliberate than they appear to the layman. "I definitely need more practice, though, and if she can help me I'd be very grateful for her time."

That one sentence was a little risky and probably all he can get away with, but it's all he needs to hint at the blind spot he knows about, checked just a few hours ago to ensure that it remains blind.

It wouldn't be entirely surprising if Linden's mother was the one that got away from the process more unscathed. Children mean the world to their parents, and though fathers love them they don't have quite the same kind of relationship that mothers do. Broken or not, Nill thinks that one of the reasons she got out better off than her husband was because she had a son. He may have been something that was worth submission.

she can. it's a little easier to learn if someone is talking.

Which is true, because when she's the one doing the teaching the time it takes to write up explanations slows the process down considerably. The "mistakes" were quite easy to catch, however, and the best course of action she can think of is treating it as such. Nill goes to grab her shoes before gesturing towards him and heading for the elevator.

It's clear to anyone who witnesses it that Linden's mother loves him dearly. It's an attitude rare among Panem natives, most of which only know or care about Linden because he's a Victor. Maybe this is one reason the woman has taken such a shining to Nill, whose kindness is every bit as clear as her affection for the wild-haired young man whose childhood she missed almost entirely.

Linden's already wearing his shoes; they're a pair of heavy steel-toed boots that he rarely takes off.

"Thanks... it's not that I don't like the suites," he says as he follows and they start down on the elevator. "It's just that I get a little stir-crazy sometimes. It's good to get out, especially now that the weather's getting nicer."

Nill tends to not wear hers indoors anymore, more out of a habit meant to keep things clean than anything else, but it's one she's been trying to do less recently if only to give Linden's parents more to do around the suite, for fear if they don't do enough they might be sent elsewhere. It's a very difficult thing when you're used to being the one doing all the cleaning up after, not the other way around.

I like the suites, but I like being outside more.

Thankfully small talk isn't something that's too difficult for them; though they certainly don't need it to spend time together it's also not the sort of thing that they need to put a great deal of effort into, which is nice when it's obvious they should be keeping their conversation relatively light and meaningless.

is it very warm here during summer?

The elevator ride is quick as always, and Nill heads for the doors easily enough, but beyond that she'll let Linden do the leading - the only safe spot that Nill herself knows of (because it lacks audio and visual components) is a womens' restroom, and it seemed a safe assumption that that was not where they were headed.

Edited 2015-05-05 12:18 (UTC)

The small talk is harmless, a buffer for true and dangerous intent and purpose. As they walk, anything the cameras and microphones pick up should be light and fluffy and comfortable.

It's a nice day, sunny and warm with only a few puffy white clouds in the sky. "Usually it's warm," Linden says after taking a moment to glance at the notepad. "Colder in the mountains, of course, but the Capitol is built in... sort of like a valley. A flat plain, anyway, and it gets very warm. Not that it matters, with the climate control they have for the streets..."

Climate control they'd kill and die for in 6, but he doesn't say that out loud.

Once they're outside, he starts making a beeline around the side of the Tribute Tower. It took a long time to find, days of surreptitious searching, but there's a hidden staircase around the back, a service passage for Avoxes, and his fingers are quick on the access panel as he types in a code and a door slides aside.

"No cameras, no microphones," he murmurs, glancing back at Nill. "My new favorite place, in other words..."

A valley? Nill has seen pictures of them, and some maps have given her an idea of what a valley would generally be like, but she isn't really sure how much she can trust the maps that Tributes have access to. It wouldn't be surprising if they didn't actually reflect the environment. She wasn't aware the Capitol had climate control, but it made sense, an her expression is appropriately thoughtful as they walk.

Climate control would explain why they could always see the stars, why the weather was never really bad. It must impact the polution as well, and... it was probably why the conditions everywhere else were so much harsher than the Capitol seemed to be. It wouldn't be surprising if they made it that way.

The fact that the spot is so close is a surprise, but not one that Nill lets show outwardly. For the most part she keeps her expression quiet and curious, though her wings shift into a slightly more rigid form, as if wary of anyone nearby--

But there doesn't seem to be, and for a moment it almost feels like they might be safe here. Nill is every wary, and her eyes dart over what they can with discretion, before she taps a finger against her notepad. Writing was safe? Really?

And of course, when he steps inside Nill will follow without question.

There's not even an Avox in sight. It's a tiny, valuable little pocket of privacy where they can speak and act freely, at least for a short enough time not to be suspicious.

"There's something I wanted to tell you," Linden says, taking a few steps up and peering around the edges of the well to make sure what he ascertained just a little while ago is still true. "Something I've wanted to tell you, actually, but there just hasn't been a chance, and I'm afraid that if I don't now, there might not be one. Even if you know, and in spite of all the new red tape, I owe it to you to be properly frank about it."

He reaches for her hand, but there's something odd about the shape. It's a sign, with his middle and ring fingers folded against his palm and his others extended.

That particular symbol isn't one that Nill ever purposely learned, but there is something to be said about cultural osmosis in different worlds. Some of her fans, though not many, have even made a point of using some nonsense symbols in photos and other such things, and it's mostly because of that and the kind of selfies she's seen in other worlds that Nill knows what it means.

Her cheeks go red almost instantly, but it's not out of embarrassment, not really, more something born out of old instinct. Even in a place like this, where they should be more safe than almost anywhere else in the city, the fear of eyes everywhere lingers in her mind. Just a simple thing shouldn't actually be worse than some of the obvious signs of care they've made towards each other, but it feels like an iron thread wraps around her heart, trying to squeeze the life out of it even as her heart skips a beat. She goes to take his hand, holding it more tightly than she would otherwise, before lifting her other hand and placing it on his, a less precise mimic of the sign.

She lets go then, but it becomes obvious why when she goes to write, and her handwriting is obviously sloppy in the way that it tends to be when she's rushing. Their time here is limited and writing takes up more of it.

I'm not leaving panem
even if offworld tributes can leave some day
I'm staying here

The thing that goes unwritten even if it might be obvious, because Nill still needs to dispose of the note outside of this place, are the words with you.

Linden has no real sense of moderation; while this is disastrous when it comes to things like his Morphling and alcohol use, it's actually quite an admirable quality when it comes to the sheer purity of his pursuits. Whether it's obsession or dedication, he never does anything halfway, and the fact that he's started to learn Sign Language means that he'll see it through, bending his sharp intellect toward memorizing as many individual ones as he can so as better to communicate with someone his affection has chosen to cling to.

It's the same way he starts to cling to her hand as she withdraws it, but he lets it go so she can write, and her words both touch and trouble him. It's humbling that she wants to stay, that she would (for him, she doesn't say but he infers well enough), but neither of them know if she even has a choice in the matter. Others have been yanked away from Panem without so much as a moment's notice, after all, sometimes to return, sometimes not. But she's been here long enough that that's unlikely, hasn't she? Effectively, she's "sticking" to this reality, even if she's torn through the fabric of many before now.

Is it so selfish and terrible to be happy, just for this brief moment, that it's what she'd choose if she could?

If she lets him, he'll draw her into a slow, careful embrace. "Whatever happens, I'll never forget the color you brought back into my life. I thought I wouldn't see it again."

It's the only reason, that precise uncertainty, that Nill doesn't tell him how many places that she has been. She hasn't dared to ever write it, and though Karkat knows she thinks he knows enough to never speak it. The only reassurance Nill has had is that she has never been unable to see an ending. The one time she did it was just that she hadn't lived it, so eventually she would see the end of Panem, even if it was just the end of how it was now. She might live through it, and then--

If that happened that would be when she was dragged away, regardless of whether or not they both survived. That scares her too much for her to mention it to Linden, because then he would never believe she'd stay even if he knew full well it wasn't a choice.

Nill is more than happy to let her draw her in, and though her arms around him aren't as tight or close to desperate as the first time she got to hold on to him the way she does is similar enough. She has no words to say that the feeling is mutual, but Nill nods nonetheless.

There is no way to tell him her devastation when she got here, or how wrecked she had been when she woke up the first time, or how much worse it was when they brought her back after that first Arena. There's even less to make sure he knows how different it was when eventually after the second she got up because it meant going to see him, or how genuinely happy she was when he was sober. Nothing properly conveys these things, but maybe the way she holds onto him, still careful but clinging much like the way he wanted to cling to her hand, is enough.

Knowing is unlikely to break Linden; his heart has stopped on the cold marble floor of a Capitol party. He's woken up after nodding off to a new, higher dose, and been surprised about it. Hell... he's collapsed in a pool of his own blood and seen his vision dim as Scorpii raced him to death. Linden's well aware of how very tentative and fragile life is even without the looming threat of world-hopping, and of how no one really knows how much time they have left.

He wants to stay, too, but his heart literally might not be able to take it.

Nestling his cheek lightly against the top of her head, he's careful to avoid her wings, clasping his hands at the small of her back instead. Staying like this wouldn't be so bad. Pretending that they could have everything two people in their situation could possibly want, just for a second, is a lot like pushing off on Morphling; numb, blissful, and capable of blurring the edges of every sinking feeling or apprehensive thought. He squeezes her more tightly for a moment before his hands slip away, but he doesn't pull back from Nill's embrace.

"I wanted you to know about this place. I'll keep checking it to make sure it's safe and I'll tell you if anything changes, but if you ever need to have a private conversation with someone, as private as it gets... take them here. You'll be safer."

Unfortunately for Linden, and perhaps just as unfortunately for Nill, she has known so many broken people that sometimes she forgets they are more capable of strength than she believes they are. She also forgets that sometimes she doesn't need to hold on to fears like that by herself, and Nill is so very afraid.

Maybe with Linden and Karkat here she could actually survive all of this, and not just in the sense that she's capable of moving and writing. Her mind is still intact as it ever has been the past several years; Panem hasn't broken her yet, and she never expected to make it this far to begin with.

She's a little more hesitant to pull away than he is, because it's the only time she's ever been able to be around him without being constantly watched and analyzed and threatened, but to stay for too long isn't safe and she knows it. Even if they are safe inside here, there must be cameras somewhere that might have seen them enter, or worse yet someone might notice that they just can't find them on the cameras. That could be so much worse than something that could just be chalked up to a scandalous fling.

I know of a few places, but most only lack audio.
thank you.

She's been able to do so much less just because she hasn't had a voice. This place is nearly as good as having one.

Nill writes another line, her expression a little more hesitant, and when she holds it up she reaches for his hand again.

we should probably go.

She doesn't want to, but they certainly can't stay where they are.

Linden is not as frail as he appears or even behaves at times, but so much belies this that hardly anyone could actually be blamed for thinking that he can't handle certain burdens or realities. Especially one so gentle, nurturing, and fretful as Nill, who sees all the cracks and breaks to the point where they can obfuscate the vital and grateful being underneath them all.

Pulling away isn't easy for either of them. Linden's not sure what he expected or hoped for by bringing Nill here; he doesn't want to demand any token of affection, even knowing that she feels the same way. He doesn't want to start something he's forbidden by the laws of his land to finish, and he doesn't want to taste something that will set a fire in his blood and make him ache for more for days afterward.

As if you aren't already aching.

He reads her words, squinting in the dim light, hand squeezing hers when she takes his again. The temptation is incredible to lean in for just one kiss, to know what it's like as a fair price for all the rumors that already exist, but he settles for just touching her fingertips against his lips.

"Yes, we should."

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Love is Dangerous for Your Tiny Heart [Closed]

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damn it I thought I tagged this

No worries!

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