Dr. S. Klim (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
futilecycle) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2013-07-24 05:58 pm
futilecycle) wrote in thecapitol2013-07-24 05:58 pm
Entry tags:
Cat Planet [OPEN]
Who| Sigma Klim and YOU!
What| Sigma returns to the Capitol and celebrates his birthday with his cat.
Where| District 10 suites and the Central Commons on the main floor.
When| Middle of week 6.
Warnings/Notes| Mention of death. Horrible cat puns eventually.
Sigma made his way back to his room slowly, the first time he'd been reluctant to return from a non-permanent death. How relaxing a long, blissfully ignorant sleep would have been... The Doctor was surprised and disappointed in himself for his reaction to Eponine's slaughter, but what else could he have done? Walking away from a friend in need was not in his nature. At first Sigma considered visiting her, perhaps needing to be consoled more than she did, and then recalled he had someone else already waiting for him.
Trudging through the halls heavily, Sigma made it to his room on the tenth floor at long last. As he opened his door, a pair of shining golden eyes looked up from the entrance, where they had been seated in waiting. Nye stood and arched his back happily, greeting his master with a almost uncertain "Mew?" The noise broke Sigma from his trance, and he bent down to pet his cat, no longer a kitten, with a smile. The animal had gotten fat on the Capitol's pedigree diet, having seemingly been allowed to indulge at will the same as any other Tribute, but Sigma scooped him up happily none the less. Was it embarrassing to admit that most of all, Sigma had missed his beloved pet? Nye bunted his masters face, rubbing his head on Sigma's cheek, and the Doctor's eyes filled with tears. There was nothing more reassuring than a small animal purring into one's ear. Sigma felt ashamed to have wished to stay dead: what would they have done with Nye if he hadn't made it back?
So much had happened in the past few weeks that could not be undone. His first excruciating death in Kyle's arms, Eponine's decapitation, and then his demise at the end of a machete... He knew that R (he should never have given that boy the benefit of the doubt!) must have had a full meal, with two healthy corpses to feast from. Realizing that made Sigma nauseous, and wearily he placed Nye down on the floor and curled into the sheets of his bed, fully clothed, for the first time in a long time. He thought he might have nightmares, perhaps dream of being eaten alive or someone holding down Eponine and cutting off her head while she screamed, but just as he'd closed his eyes a familiar pitter-pat of feet thumped on the bed and Nye stuck his face in the Doctor's hair, wet nose sniffing his ear, purring as he kneaded the pillows. Sigma sighed - it was a painkiller for the soul. How good it was to have a cat...
After a brief, dreamless nap, Sigma woke up, showered, and changed clothes. He then spent a short hour amusing his feline friend, hanging one of his metal belts across the side of the bed while Nye swatted and jangled the links. He remembered disinterestedly that his birthday should have been some time during the week - Sigma checked the date. He was a little late, now, he supposed, and he didn't feel much older than when he had arrived (old age caught up to him rapidly now, so this was peculiar). But after so many weeks in the heat with little food or water, he figured he owed himself at least one good meal.
And so scooping up Bill Nye, Sigma paraded through the District 10 suite with the animal in his arms like it was no thing, eventually making his way to the first floor. If anyone higher up on the pecking order brought up a no-pets rule, well, he'd be leaving with the cat.
What| Sigma returns to the Capitol and celebrates his birthday with his cat.
Where| District 10 suites and the Central Commons on the main floor.
When| Middle of week 6.
Warnings/Notes| Mention of death. Horrible cat puns eventually.
Sigma made his way back to his room slowly, the first time he'd been reluctant to return from a non-permanent death. How relaxing a long, blissfully ignorant sleep would have been... The Doctor was surprised and disappointed in himself for his reaction to Eponine's slaughter, but what else could he have done? Walking away from a friend in need was not in his nature. At first Sigma considered visiting her, perhaps needing to be consoled more than she did, and then recalled he had someone else already waiting for him.
Trudging through the halls heavily, Sigma made it to his room on the tenth floor at long last. As he opened his door, a pair of shining golden eyes looked up from the entrance, where they had been seated in waiting. Nye stood and arched his back happily, greeting his master with a almost uncertain "Mew?" The noise broke Sigma from his trance, and he bent down to pet his cat, no longer a kitten, with a smile. The animal had gotten fat on the Capitol's pedigree diet, having seemingly been allowed to indulge at will the same as any other Tribute, but Sigma scooped him up happily none the less. Was it embarrassing to admit that most of all, Sigma had missed his beloved pet? Nye bunted his masters face, rubbing his head on Sigma's cheek, and the Doctor's eyes filled with tears. There was nothing more reassuring than a small animal purring into one's ear. Sigma felt ashamed to have wished to stay dead: what would they have done with Nye if he hadn't made it back?
So much had happened in the past few weeks that could not be undone. His first excruciating death in Kyle's arms, Eponine's decapitation, and then his demise at the end of a machete... He knew that R (he should never have given that boy the benefit of the doubt!) must have had a full meal, with two healthy corpses to feast from. Realizing that made Sigma nauseous, and wearily he placed Nye down on the floor and curled into the sheets of his bed, fully clothed, for the first time in a long time. He thought he might have nightmares, perhaps dream of being eaten alive or someone holding down Eponine and cutting off her head while she screamed, but just as he'd closed his eyes a familiar pitter-pat of feet thumped on the bed and Nye stuck his face in the Doctor's hair, wet nose sniffing his ear, purring as he kneaded the pillows. Sigma sighed - it was a painkiller for the soul. How good it was to have a cat...
After a brief, dreamless nap, Sigma woke up, showered, and changed clothes. He then spent a short hour amusing his feline friend, hanging one of his metal belts across the side of the bed while Nye swatted and jangled the links. He remembered disinterestedly that his birthday should have been some time during the week - Sigma checked the date. He was a little late, now, he supposed, and he didn't feel much older than when he had arrived (old age caught up to him rapidly now, so this was peculiar). But after so many weeks in the heat with little food or water, he figured he owed himself at least one good meal.
And so scooping up Bill Nye, Sigma paraded through the District 10 suite with the animal in his arms like it was no thing, eventually making his way to the first floor. If anyone higher up on the pecking order brought up a no-pets rule, well, he'd be leaving with the cat.
no subject
She stroked Nye thoughtfully. "Do you suppose that would work? He would still be cross, perhaps, but he might speak to me at least."
She reached for Sigma's face, though, touching his cheeks lightly with her fingertips.
"Ashamed, Sir? Of being made to fight in a game? Of being made to kill?"
She shook her head. "But no. No, that is not a thing to be ashamed of, for it is not your fault. If you are to be ashamed of that, perhaps I ought to be ashamed of being a thief and a beggar and letting men take me for a Franc."
She was ashamed of all of that, and even as she spoke, her voice caught and she looked away.
"Those are shameful things, Sir. Montparnasse even said that murder is more honourable. But no - you must not be ashamed of it. I cannot always be so ashamed of myself; already, I know I am ugly and disgusting and stupid and a thief ... and perhaps even a whore, if Javert has his way. But to be ashamed of myself for being so makes it all worse. And you must not be ashamed either, Sir. You have been kinder to me than anyone ever has, Sir. I will not turn my back because you are a murderer too."
She stroked his cheek again, tracing a path from his eye to his jaw, an invisible tear, perhaps. But his expression fell, and Eponine's did, too. She was being dismissed. A warm dismissal, but a dismissal nonetheless. Hesitantly, she curtseyed, knees locking and creaking as she bent.
"Sir, you are so kind to me. Perhaps I could come to see Nye on a time? I would like that, Sir. May I?"
no subject
When Eponine admitted her past to him, Sigma's throat tightened. He felt sick to his stomach to think of what she must have done for those depraved men; this same thin child who cuddled his cat and touched his face, lifting her skirt for adults because she had no choice. It was too much, and Sigma's heart broke for her. No child should have had to go through that, and Sigma didn't want her to suffer in that way again, he wanted only for her to be secure and to know she had people who cared...
But in some ways, she was also stronger than him. He took her words to heart. Was it his fault? Could merely his kindness and lack of ill-intent excuse his deeds? He was not sure, and was not ready to forgive himself, but it was pointless to carry around his guilt here. He spoke softly: "You are not ugly, nor stupid, nor a whore... If you promise not to think of yourself in such a way, I will also do my best to be rid my shame. How does that sound?"
Sigma moved after her difficult curtsey, so touched by her words to him, he did something he had never done for his own child: he gave her a quick fatherly kiss on the top of the head. For Sigma, this gesture was easier and far less painful for him to give than a hug. The last time he had had someone to hold, he had been without arms, and when he had received them back his own son, encased in metal, had only ever known his touch as a newborn. This, though less significant, would suffice. It was also his way of letting her know she had a guardian in him if she needed it, and that he had meant what he said.
"...Any time you wish. I would like that, too."
He knew if he continued to associate with her, Eponine would become someone he treasured dearly. And if he didn't want to mourn her as he mourned Kyle, it was imperative he found a way for her to win...
no subject
Her voice took on an almost dreamlike quality as she described her various bodies. But she shrugged awkwardly and looked away from Sigma when she spoke next.
"They tried to card me, you know? Make me register as a prostitute. They arrested me with the gang; Javert picked me up and put me in La Madelonnettes - that is a prison, Sir, and the worst in France. It is where they keep the murderers and the child beaters - and the prostitutes, Sir. They searched me and made me have the test - but I told 'em I were fifteen and they had to let me go. It was only eight weeks, but that was enough. So you see?" She smiled a peculiar smile. "My things are true... but it is okay. I do not care. And you must not either."
She smiled as he kissed her - and tears pricked at her eyelids. Nobody had ever kissed her so softly, so lovingly, as Sigma did then. And she longed to just fall into his arms and sob herself to sleep whilst he held her tight. Even after the few encounters they had had, really, Eponine trusted this kind old man with all of her heart, and she knew that she would do anything to help him.
"Monsieur, you do me such a kindness." There was a lump in her throat as she spoke. He was so lovely, so loving.
"You must forget your shame and live like me, Sir, not caring what others think. You are a good man, one of the best I know, Sir. And I thank you, truly, for talking to me, and for helping. Thank you, Sir."
no subject
In that moment he wanted to share with her his own past that plagued him; how worried sick he was about his son, how he was too terrified to watch the television in fear of hearing a cannon - that his son slept with a stuffed rabbit until he was eighteen years old, and Sigma was considering making him a new one, but was not sure he could handle the heartbreak if he couldn't present it after all. How he would very much like for her to meet Kyle, for he believed the two of them would get along. He wanted to tell her of the people he had to kill in another lifetime, women and children no different from herself, how it still kept him up at night - how one of them had also referred to him like she referred to her father. How at the end of his life there was the one hope he'd had of being with his love after all he had suffered in the Game, but he was happier knowing she was safe than trying to dig up forty-five years of pain... This all would have been to show her that even in misery there was happiness, however small. She could see the world as he did: that they could still be happy, now, if they tried hard and long enough...
But he does not say any of this. He stares at her and all he can manage is a feeble "...Do not thank me. Come back any time," as she takes her leave.