Matthew 'Punchy' O'Connor (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
nunpunching) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2013-09-22 12:51 am
nunpunching) wrote in thecapitol2013-09-22 12:51 am
Entry tags:
Their Souls Dangling Inside Out from Their Mouths [Open]
Who| Punchy and Open
What| Punchvox is in da house.
Where| Training Center
When| Before gas leak.
Warnings| Avox, mentions of torture.
It took a while to break the new Avox in. There was the physical brutality, of course, but the psychological regimen had to be implemented, and that took a while. It's been several weeks since the poorly-formatted message took over all of the network devices and televisions. Punchy hasn't been seen since then.
The boy who shows up in the Training Center now seems smaller, divided by some imperceptible distance from the name he once held so proudly. The spiky red hair is cut short, clean and functional like the other Avoxes. His eyes are lowered, body no longer held with casual swagger but instead like furniture covering, existing only to hide and protect what blunt form is beneath. His hands shake slightly as he takes a sponge and a mop and starts to clean up the room where the weapons are, weapons he flinches at when he sees them. He avoids the glints of blades as if they're the eyes of angry accusers or worse, stern teachers.
His fingers drum for a few beats, just a slice of time, on the handle of his mop. Just for a second, something winks out. Then he's back to work.
What| Punchvox is in da house.
Where| Training Center
When| Before gas leak.
Warnings| Avox, mentions of torture.
It took a while to break the new Avox in. There was the physical brutality, of course, but the psychological regimen had to be implemented, and that took a while. It's been several weeks since the poorly-formatted message took over all of the network devices and televisions. Punchy hasn't been seen since then.
The boy who shows up in the Training Center now seems smaller, divided by some imperceptible distance from the name he once held so proudly. The spiky red hair is cut short, clean and functional like the other Avoxes. His eyes are lowered, body no longer held with casual swagger but instead like furniture covering, existing only to hide and protect what blunt form is beneath. His hands shake slightly as he takes a sponge and a mop and starts to clean up the room where the weapons are, weapons he flinches at when he sees them. He avoids the glints of blades as if they're the eyes of angry accusers or worse, stern teachers.
His fingers drum for a few beats, just a slice of time, on the handle of his mop. Just for a second, something winks out. Then he's back to work.
no subject
no subject
She leaves her hand where it is, gentle on the back of his.
"Did they do it? Did they make you an Avox?"
no subject
no subject
The sadness on Joan's expression doesn't even begin to convey the anger and grief she feels for what they've done to him. If they were at home, she would track down the people who did this to him and make them pay. But those people are the "justice" here, and a profound sense of powerlessness overcomes her. She wants to tell him they'll pay, but she can't. She wants to tell him she won't let them hurt him again, but she can't.
"I'm sorry," she says, her voice quiet but tight. "I'm going to do whatever I can to help you whenever I can. If you ever need anything, you can always come to me."
She wishes those words didn't feel so terribly empty.
no subject
Since she's not giving him a direct order, he goes back to mopping, and turns his back.
no subject
"Take care of yourself," she says softly, before turning as well and heading for the door.