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Jun. 16th, 2021 01:30 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
goldtoes[ He didn't even protest when the Peacekeepers came for him.
Leif, five feet tall and eighty-seven pounds precisely, had been sitting at the table tearing bread apart with his fingers and dipping it into olive oil with cracked pepper, an old comfort food, when they banged on the door. He stood, navigated calmly to it, and stared up at them with green eyes that were fearless mostly in defeat more than in bravery. Come with us.]
Do I have time to pack some things? [ Not disinterested, but unconcerned. ]
No.
All right. [ He picks up the bag he keeps by the door and follows them, flanked two by two, a quadrant of faceless danger. They bring him to the train. District 11 will never see him again, but it doesn't matter. He has no one here, anyway. So it doesn't matter. Nothing much does anymore.
He sits against the window though there's no reason to, really, and watches out the window as the rest of his life rolls past and away from him. His vision's good enough to navigate, to identify faces and places, but the fact is that his cornea are so scarred over by now that they look like puddles of heavy cream, just a spill, an accident, something that was never supposed to happen in the first place --
The Capitol comes sooner than he expects, and there was never magic in it in the first place - not before, not as a tribute, not now as a victor, either. Not led in unbuckled overalls and flannel and a plain white t-shirt, not with his quadrant of peacekeepers doubled to a formation of eight that brought him like a well-earned prize, delivered him like a gift. Leif says nothing. ]
Leif, five feet tall and eighty-seven pounds precisely, had been sitting at the table tearing bread apart with his fingers and dipping it into olive oil with cracked pepper, an old comfort food, when they banged on the door. He stood, navigated calmly to it, and stared up at them with green eyes that were fearless mostly in defeat more than in bravery. Come with us.]
Do I have time to pack some things? [ Not disinterested, but unconcerned. ]
No.
All right. [ He picks up the bag he keeps by the door and follows them, flanked two by two, a quadrant of faceless danger. They bring him to the train. District 11 will never see him again, but it doesn't matter. He has no one here, anyway. So it doesn't matter. Nothing much does anymore.
He sits against the window though there's no reason to, really, and watches out the window as the rest of his life rolls past and away from him. His vision's good enough to navigate, to identify faces and places, but the fact is that his cornea are so scarred over by now that they look like puddles of heavy cream, just a spill, an accident, something that was never supposed to happen in the first place --
The Capitol comes sooner than he expects, and there was never magic in it in the first place - not before, not as a tribute, not now as a victor, either. Not led in unbuckled overalls and flannel and a plain white t-shirt, not with his quadrant of peacekeepers doubled to a formation of eight that brought him like a well-earned prize, delivered him like a gift. Leif says nothing. ]
that is a disgusting time just take AM off the whole clock
Date: 2021-08-26 04:33 am (UTC)They'll find out. For now, he seems to relax after looking Leif over. This time, his smile is more genuine. Not completely recovered, but closer. ] You're very cute in my clothes. I don't think I could be upset right now if I tried.
wheezes weakly
Date: 2021-08-27 01:11 am (UTC)[ Leif still has both eyebrows raised, skeptical, but he pushes closer anyway, because it doesn't really matter. The information will come when it comes, and he won't pull punches, and... Rhys, truthfully, will find out things he never wanted to know in the first place.
It's part of the hand they were dealt, more or less, anyway. He keeps talking, deadpan, resting his temple against his alpha's (?) ribs. ] Thank you. I don't suppose they'll bring any of mine from 11, but if they forget my pocketwatch I'll poke their eyes like I was pitting cherries. [ He looks up, tilting his head to one side. ] That was a joke.
it's ok i accept u
Date: 2021-08-29 04:43 am (UTC)He pulls Leif's head against himself once more when he's upright again, not bothering with a shirt. He likes the direct contact. ] If they forget it, we'll go get it ourselves. [ An arm drapes across Leif's back in a loose hug. ] Are you hungry or tired or anything?
bless i couldn't be bothered
Date: 2021-08-29 04:57 am (UTC)He settles, though, nose pressed into Rhys' skin as he contemplates these questions. ] Starving and exhausted, if you'd believe it. [ He looks both of these things, in fairness. ]