We Pass from Death to Life Because We Love Each Other [Open]

[yoknapatawpha]

WHO| Bayard Sartoris and anyone!
WHAT| Bayard's developed a sort of narcoleptic sleep pattern.
WHERE| Anywhere.
WHEN| A few days before the Arena.
WARNINGS| None.

Bayard knows what a bed is. Somehow, he just doesn't always manage to make it back there.

Without someone making sure he's in bed at a regular time or eating something besides pure sugar, Bayard's developed some unhealthy tendencies, one of which is roaming the Capitol all evening after school, getting lost, and only sometimes making it back to the District Twelve Suite before he needs to rest. Sometimes he makes it back to the Tribute Tower, but since he isn't confident using the elevator yet he'll go up as many floors as he can before finding a corner or a flat, unoccupied part of the common room to nap on.

He's slept outdoors often enough in the past that laying his head on his folded arms suits him well for a soft place to stretch out. He sleeps on his side, soft little sighs eking out from between half-parted lips, fingertips twitching slightly with dreams. When he wakes he misses Ringo; when he lies down he misses Granny. When he actually goes to bed in his room in District Twelve (its mattress stuffed with candy and little knick-knacks, wonders of the modern day, that he's squirreled away - toys that light up, a fob for a car, advertising pamphlets mass-printed in colors Bayard thought only existed by chance and in nature) he sometimes cries from loneliness, and so, in a way, it's a relief to simply become exhausted from exploring and shut down right where he is.

Underfoot, curled on that couch you wanted to sit on, tucked inside a cabinet while you look for breakfast, you can find him at some point just about everywhere.

Comments

[yoknapatawpha]

"Huh?"

Bayard's not been asleep long - although he was already near passed-out on his feet when he found Arya's convenient little fort - but he's tired enough to be disoriented, and so he can't manage anything more artful than a grunt as Arya wakes him. He rubs at his eyes and the bedhead that's formed in such a short time, thanks to the pomade that his Stylists put in every day for God knows what reason.

"Oh, sorry, Arya. I didn't mean to intrude." And yet intrude he did.

[needlebearer]

"This is my den, you know." She sits herself down near him, legs crossed and her arms still full of food. "If you wanted to come in here, you should have said the password." Never mind that she hadn't been here to hear him say it, whatever it was - and that she hadn't decided on one just yet anyway.

[yoknapatawpha]

"I didn't know there was a password. Would an offering do instead?" Bayard reaches into his hoodie pocket (his hoodie is emblazoned with some logo his Stylist selected) and pulls out a handful of baubles. They're little things from a local science museum that Bayard bought because money has no meaning when it comes on a little flat card, trinkets that amaze and astound with their basic chemical reactions. Glow in the dark stickers, a tiny voice-changer, and the prized possession, a "3D pen".

"I know you ain't as keen on this modern technology as I am but I reckon you might like some anyway."

[needlebearer]

She's about to say that she hadn't really had a password, but stops herself when she sees the trinkets he's holding out. She didn't have the same fascination with the technology that Bayard did - the novelty had worn off after experiencing the elevator and electric lights a few times - and she hadn't really been out to visit any of the museums or attractions that the Capitol had to offer, although she thought that maybe she ought to. She can't help but look fascinated by them though, as though he's showing her some private treasure.

"They're glowing like little stars in your hand."

[yoknapatawpha]

"Yes. That's why I bought them." He closes his hand a little over the stickers, so the glow is all the more vibrant, then holds them out to her. "Feel. They ain't even hot."

He plucks the voice changer from him palm and holds it to his mouth. "And listen to this," he says, but the voice that emerges into a pre-pubescent boy's but a deep masculine baritone.

[needlebearer]

She strokes her fingertips over one of the stickers, then laughs in delight at the change in his voice. "Let me try!"

[yoknapatawpha]

He hands it over with an equally delighted grin. "Look, if you push the little lever on the side it'll change your voice for you. I even got myself to sound like an old lady!"

[needlebearer]

She keeps it on the same setting for now, affecting something of an accent and hearing her voice come out deeper, like a man's. "Hello there Arya lass, I see you've brought a friend with you." She bursts into a fit of giggles on hearing herself.

[yoknapatawpha]

Bayard doesn't know who she's imitating, but the voice is so ridiculous coming from her that he bursts out laughing.

"There, have I bought my way into Miss Arya's castle?"

[needlebearer]

She grins when she sees how she's made him laugh, handing the voice changer back to him. "Yes, but only if you drop the 'Miss'. And it's not a castle, it's..." she thinks fast, not sure of what she wants it to be. "It's a cave."

[yoknapatawpha]

"Alright. Sorry, Arya, it's a force of habit. You're the first lady I met who don't appreciate a little gallantry." Bayard yawns, and then puts the voice changer to his throat again midway through the sound, making it create a sound like a whale - a sound neither of them is likely to have heard. "I reckon you noticed I was tuckered out. A cave is as good a place to sleep as any."

[needlebearer]

"That's because I'm not a lady," she replies petulantly, though she brightens at the odd, whale-like moaning, giggling at the sound.

"They're good places to hide out in, too. And to find treasure."

[yoknapatawpha]

"Alright. You're a girl." He doesn't say it like a condemnation, just a recontextualization, as if he's shifting her into another equally copacetic category.

"I'm too tired to find treasure. Maybe I can dream about treasure."

[needlebearer]

"You can sleep here," she suggests, trying not to sound eager at the thought of having a companion to share her cave and its treasure, but as though she's allowing him a great privilege.

[yoknapatawpha]

"I'm mighty obliged...Arya," Bayard says, forcing himself not to append a title to that. "I reckon I'll owe you a favor."

He lies down, tucking his forearms under his head. "Are you going to sleep too?"

[needlebearer]

She hadn't been planning on it, but now that he's settling down she feels tiredness set in. "I could nap for a while," she offers, lowering herself down next to him.

[yoknapatawpha]

"I don't reckon we even need to post a guard, since we're in such a mighty fortress." Bayard closes his eyes. "Sweet dreams, Arya."

[needlebearer]

She feels sleep take its hold over her, rolling over onto her side and laying next to Bayard as though they're sardines squashed in together, resting her head on his shoulder before closing her eyes.