Hey guys, Paradigm of Writing here with a brand new chapter of Sheep Led to Slaughter, Chapter #13: A Caged Bird, where finally, finally, we get back to the Capitol characters and the storyline that follows them. I know, guys, that these tributes are awesome and stuff, but these nine are the OG's, right? The real reason why everyone is here, of course... I think? I dunno. Anyways, all I know is that I am excited. Last chapter was the tribute parade, and we met Gaia Whisp (D12 F), Valencia Shale (D1 F), Linden Hazel (D7 M), and Carrion Bastion (D4 M). These Capitol chapters focusing on these storylines will be definitely less word count wise than the tribute focused chapters, but expect at least 4k minimum for all of these chapters regardless of who they focus on from here on out. Enjoy Chapter #13: A Caged Bird.
President of Panem Calhoun Rodney P.O.V
The enjoyment of the night settles down on his shoulders, while he breathes in the anxieties of an oncoming tomorrow. Life, however, is good, he thinks, while standing on the balcony of the presidential mansion. Looking out from his high peak is a city skyline of beauty, with lights of all colors bursting into the sky, a pitch black abyss of wonder that sucks up everything lovely and turns it into invisible matter. President Calhoun Rodney spots musical notes in the sky, from the way the wind blows about and chimes in the background, all music to his ears.
He's watched over the reaping tapes several times in the last few hours after saying hello to the tributes atop his own pedestals. Calhoun notices the glares, the way they look at him with disdain, with evil, and part of it is deserved, he understands that, part of it not so much. He clenches his fist, grinds his teeth, and a brief spite of rage burns in his veins. He is unable to wholly change the future the way he wants to, by simply eradicating the Games. Not every single soul in the world, not every single soul in the Districts hates them, and even District 12 has people who enjoy the Games but aren't brave enough to try.
"Or too stupid to..." Calhoun thinks, shaking his head.
All he knows is, should he try and remove the Games from one year, there'll be an uprising. While the Districts seem to be able to satiate themselves with that, where even the Careers are not going to be clamoring over each other for his throat, the Capitol citizens are enough to make the motions difficult. Though it has only been a hundred years - a thought that hits Calhoun like a ton of bricks - the Games have been able to sink themselves in to the Capitol's world like a beetle ripping their prey apart with their pincers. He can recall, as a teenager, before the collapse of the entire infrastructure, that he wishes the Careers could all die grisly deaths, cheering the others on when one of them would win. He looks back at him skittishly, at his closed door from the outside in.
Lewlyn hasn't arrived yet.
However, it isn't her that has him looking scared.
Despite what Bonnie says, for keeping an arms distance away from the Games, she is the head designer of the mutts. She spends her time looking over these creations that kill and torture tributes for the Capitol's entertainment. She cries when they're destroyed, but yet she also cries when they annihilate and mutilate, and Calhoun is unable to have her pick her poison. He's sensed it in Bonnie that she likes the Games more than she lets on, but he is not going to let that get in the way of his life, and how he runs Panem. He's sure that if he were to eradicate the Games overnight, Bonnie would file for divorce, or maybe even murder him, but he keeps that on the down low.
Calhoun looks back nervously, because Bonnie is inside reading a book in the living room, and he feels as if his thoughts can be projected through the wall.
The sound of a door opening causes the president to jump, and when he turns around, more out of fright than expectance to see who it is, his heart sinks at Lewlyn's mixed face of amusement and disappointment, an interesting combination.
The Head Gamemaker closes the door behind her, keeping her arms crossed, she unmoving. "You wanted to see me, Calhoun?"
He knows well and full that Lewlyn is not exactly his biggest friend, but she gets into the top spot before he does and he does not want the scandal that'll be trying to get her to quit. After all, he's seen what she's done to Rennie, and he is more surprised she hasn't continued it on someone else, especially the president if she hates him as much as she pretends to. This thought breaks something within Calhoun's mind, and he turns his head back towards the Capitol skyline?
Why hasn't he helped Rennie out? It is a look that frightens him in his sleep, a face stuck forever in terror as Rennie's eyes are pleading, sounds escaping his throat, and all Calhoun does is turn his back. The blade goes snicker-snack through the redhead's flesh, a dying scream dissipates in his throat, and scarlet is pouring down his hands. He is the one holding the knife, he is the one swinging it down.
Wait, no, that isn't right. Calhoun brings a hand to his head, cursing under his breath. He is not the one holding the blade. It is the Capitol's head of the Peacekeepers, the one who doles out the punishment. He's worse, though... he's the one who signs it off for it to happen, without ever reading over the warrant. He trusts Lewlyn more than Rennie, who has never told a lie in his life.
Lewlyn frowns, furrowing her brow, seeing that he's distressed. She goes to him, hands on his shoulders, a feeling all too familiar, and Calhoun's body locks up. It isn't Bonnie's hands holding him down to the ground, it is her, it is the devil herself, and his skin is hot like it is being raked over hot coals. "Calhoun? Are you alright?"
He clears his throat, nudging her away, running his hand over the top of the railing, the coolness sliding onto his palm, his flesh leaving smears on the black paint. "I'm fine," he lies through his teeth, something that comes so easily to him. Calhoun looks at Bonnie - it's Lewlyn, his mind corrects - and stays shell-shocked. She's gorgeous, and he's never really, truly seen it. "Bonnie, I-" he starts.
"Bonnie?" Lewlyn raises an eyebrow. "It's me, Calhoun... Lewlyn Davis. Head Gamemaker."
Bright bursts of light flash across Calhoun's face, blood and ash and agony, while there are pincers holding Rennie's tongue, while he laughs with the blade. As Lewlyn's hands caress his shoulders, with Bonnie whispering good nothings into his ears, and during all of this he is dancing under a shower of crimson. Cardinal covers his hands, covers his soul, covers Rennie's face, and Lewlyn's naked body, and everything else is too much of a blur...
"I'm sorry," he apologizes. He rubs the middle of his head gingerly.
Lewlyn takes a step towards him, non-menacingly. "I think the Quell is starting to get to you, more than you think. Even you, Calhoun Rodney, are not invincible," and then she re-crosses her arms. "What was it you wanted to talk about?"
Calhoun blinks the strangeness out of his gaze, clearing his throat. She's here for a reason, and he needs to get it out. The president returns to the railing, taking a deep breath, anxiety sinking into the blue of his bloodstream.
"The Quell twist. Y'know, the one about the tributes voting on each other?"
"Yeah, what about it?" Lewlyn joins him on the railing.
"Don't rig it."
"Excuse me?"
"I'm sure you heard me."
"What do you mean? 'Don't rig it...'" Lewlyn makes a face.
Calhoun rolls his eyes. For all the intelligence that hides in the Head Gamemaker's brain, stupidity is not a trait of hers that comes easily, let alone a trait that usually comes out at all. She is not good at playing dumb, or stupid... she exposes all of her cards too early in a game of poker, and it is quite amusing for Calhoun to watch at how she rages when things begin to collapse after she spends so much time trying to perfect it before she realizes there never had been a chance for perfection in any of her schemes in the first place.
He knows, the moment that Pollux reads the card out loud for the entire country to see, that everyone cheers. It almost guarantees a non-Career victory, as if there are at least four times that the tributes vote, more than likely it'll be the Careers going to die. Not that Calhoun has ever not had favorites, he has a few every year and will bitterly cry along with the families of said tributes that lose their loved ones. He is not, however, going to rig the game.
"Don't play favorites and keep your favorite tribute alive," he revises his statement, saying it with a more hollow tone than he expects, trying to not keep it as pointed.
"Me playing favorites?" Lewlyn scoffs, auburn hair going to the wind. "I don't do that."
"Don't mess with me, Lewlyn, you absolutely do," Calhoun drives the wedge in a bit harder. "Usually it is a Career, and you get them far enough so that it looks like you don't really like them. They don't always win, but you definitely do sabotage it."
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"You have an idea how often you say that?" the president changes the course of the topic, making an amused face, keeping one eyebrow piqued above the other. "You say that whenever you know you've been caught. It is very telling." He places one hand back on the railing, keeping the other down at his side. "This year, there can't be any favorites. Don't rig the vote so every tribute votes for someone you don't like just to get them out of the way," she opens her mouth to protest, but Calhoun overrides her anyways. "If a tribute you like gets selected, a Career most likely, let them die." He cannot believe he just said that, but Calhoun knows that he has to make sacrifices.
She purses her lips at him, but she doesn't say anything quite yet, leaning back up against the railing, turning herself around so her elbows and back are resting up against it. "You'd think I'd cheat?"
"I know you'd cheat, Lewlyn," he corrects her.
"There isn't a bone in my body that'd do such a thing."
"You can bullshit with me all you like, but I am not going to believe you."
He rights himself, and another burst of light crosses his vision. More red, more fingers plaiting into his spine, and Rennie's face. He stills. "Lewlyn..."
She juts her jaw out, looking smug. "What?"
"Rennie," Calhoun says, mystification in his voice.
"What about Rennie?"
"I think what we did to him..." he pinches the bridge of his nose. "Was wrong..."
Lewlyn frowns. "Calhoun, I have no idea what you're talking about. You had nothing to do with Rennie's..." she trails off, her brow furrowing in confusion, she frowning.
"Lewlyn?"
She shakes her head, rubbing her shoulders innocuously as if a chill has come over her. "I need to go. I'll see you in the morning, Calhoun," the Head Gamemaker finishes briskly, and she walks back into the mansion, Calhoun standing there in his stupor of confusion, drowning in red hair, red blood, red lies, and his own heart bursting at the pain, while the world spins madly around him.
A caged bird… that is what he is.
Master of Ceremonies Pollux Aetos P.O.V
In a heated clash of flesh, he groans as his boyfriend playfully teased his chest with gentle hands. In a muted silence, there's a collected gasp as soft spots were hit with hard forces and vice versa. Emerald eyes matched diamond orbs and passionate kisses distill the longing quiet. Patches of pitch black and pallid white overlap each other as a turmoil of bodies swapped spots on the bed, sounds of moaning echoing off the walls.
Pollux shook his head back, hands on Rennie's hips, he jutting on him at the top, both of their bodies covered in sweat, glistening in the light. He ruts again, Rennie's mouth partly open in exultation, lips forming an 'o' that is so luscious, so delightful, and Pollux is swimming in it. He grinds again, keeping his hands on Rennie's hips, the Avox trying to make sounds, but unable to, the redhead tossing his head back against the pillows.
"You like this?" Pollux grunts, shifting his weight. Rennie nods feverishly, sweat dropping down his forehead, pasting his hair to his head. "Yeah, me too..."
Rennie groans a guttural bellow, one that actually sounds fine, and Pollux sees black and blue and multiple colors of the rainbow, he sighing as he then feels euphoria skyrocket through his veins and through his body. He collapses onto the Avox, feeling the drumming of his heartbeat underneath, wrapping one arm around Rennie's waist, kissing him on the lips.
"Thank you for that..."
Pollux is sure Rennie is trying to say 'you're welcome', but it only is accentuated by the swallowing of his throat and a slight nod, a gleam in his eyes. Pollux is sure round six will be even better than round five. Rennie throws the covers off, Pollux rolling over onto his side of the bed, whistling low as Rennie, naked, walks over to the other side of the bedroom, staring out at the Capitol skyline. It is really so Rennie can go over and get his tablet so they can converse, but it does give Pollux a nice view of Smith and Wesson in the nether regions. When Rennie turns back around, Pollux feels his face flush scarlet, lips watering... round six needs to happen now.
The redhead types away - carpets match the drapes, Pollux notes, with a twisted grin - and the message pops up on Pollux's TV in the corner. That was great.
"Glad you thought so. I try my hardest."
Not trying hard enough...
Pollux smirks. The bastard is daring him, isn't he?
He is surprised when he gets the knock a little over three hours ago, the sky starting to turn black, he just having removed the bowtie from his suit, cufflinks tossed to the floor like marbles that bounce around. As he steps into the bathroom, tile underneath his feet, the knocking sound comes from the doorway, and Pollux walks over. The loss of words that happens for him, something that never happens to the Master of Ceremonies, is almost comical by Rennie's smile that dares to show itself at the edges of his mouth.
Pollux is more surprised at his lack of control as he immediately latches on with a kiss, pulling Rennie inside and slamming the door shut. Thanks to the Avox's amazing tongue, he is able to undress. Now, three hours later, where surely Lewlyn is losing her mind, the Master of Ceremonies is screwing the Head Gamemaker's brother simply because he walked himself to the man's doorstep.
"Lewlyn told me no," he says, putting an arm underneath his head, scooting up somewhat on the bed. He lets out a sigh. "When we spoke earlier today. She told me that I couldn't go out with you, yet you showed up anyway. What changed her mind?"
Rennie goes back to answering. I don't know. She came back from a meeting with Calhoun and said I had the night off. She told me I could stay here if I wanted to.
A smile creeps itself onto Pollux's face. "I dunno about that, Rennie. I might not ever let you leave then, if that was the case..."
He lets out a shaky breath, chills sliding up and down his spine, snapping bones into place while his heart rate accelerates, eyes widen, and there are stars on the ceiling mixed in with the rest of the white. Pollux tilts his head some, looking at Rennie, who has set the tablet down, going back up to the glass and looking out of it again. He presses his fingers up against it, normally an action that burns in Pollux's veins should someone else just touch his windows, due to the marks they'll leave, but with Rennie, it is nearly gorgeous. He's been inside Lewlyn's home where usually Rennie is forced to stay in due to being her Avox, and for an odd reason, Lewlyn does not have many windows, and neither does her office on the presidential street.
Pollux lives a few blocks down from the training center, which means Rennie is closer to freedom than anyone else in the city if he truly wants to be. Rennie probably only gets to see the night life of the Capitol now once a week, if even that, and putting this in the frame of the mind, Pollux's heart grows three times its size, and his innocence is affable.
"I love you," Pollux says, keeping a dreamy smile on his face.
Rennie looks back at him, a moment stuck in time, a stasis of amber, a perfect, captured frame of innocence and beauty and love, and he has never seen something more beautiful. The Avox picks the tablet back up, typing away. You do?
"I do," the other guy agrees. "You're sweet, you're kind, you're..." Pollux sighs. "I love everything about you." It is the first date and he is already saying that. He knows it might be quick, but it honestly doesn't matter. "And it upsets me so much how Lewlyn has done all of this to you and she's had no repercussions."
The redhead looks down, staying silent, but the mutual feeling is there. Pollux can only imagine what shame, what betrayal, what anger that must flood his emotions whenever these thoughts happen, whenever this occurs to him. He lies back down, head swimming with thoughts. The things he wants to do to Lewlyn make his blood boil, but they drive the excitement up, they drive the adrenaline up in his veins and make him feel alive. The world is his oyster and he is going to destroy Lewlyn Davis, Head Gamemaker, even if it kills him.
To stand in front of Calhoun, to stand in front of his best friend and laugh and laugh at the charge of murder being brought to his attention. It isn't murder, Calhoun, it's justice. Justice for Rennie.
Pollux gets out of bed, walking in step to Rennie, matching foot movement with his breath, keeping himself in tact while he stares at the redhead's backside, and then he reaches the Avox, running one hand around his front, down to his left pectoral muscle, resting it there and squeezing lightly. Rennie shudders when the other hand drops around to the front, encircling around flesh.
"I am going to kill Lewlyn one day, Rennie," Pollux whispers into Rennie's neck, kissing him and sliding down with the rest of his face till Pollux's hair rests against the Avox's collarbone. "I am going to do it for you. Would you like that?"
A slickness makes Rennie buck forward some, a strange croak of surprise coming from within, but the response is immediately telling. He very much would like this. "We should do it right in front of her, then," Pollux nibbles on Rennie's earlobe, pressing him against the glass, so many fingerprints, so many smudges on the perfect glass. It is what the Capitol will see, two men pressed up against the windows against a backdrop of blurred red, of anemic white, of supernovas in the abyss sky. Rennie makes another croak of surprise as Pollux's left hand trails one finger down his side, the right still moving in one continuous motion. "Someone else holds her down, Rennie, while she watches me take you, and her world will fall apart!"
He's hated her for the longest time, as he has watched Rennie from the sidelines, seeing the way she treats him, seeing the way it has allowed itself to go on, this abuse, this abuse that cannot be tolerated any longer! Pollux doesn't notice that he is starting to pick up his own pace, his teeth leaving marks in Rennie's skin, the poor redhead crying out in pain, but all Pollux can see is Lewlyn through the reflection of the glass, her face twisted, her face broken and bloodied and matted, all because he has taken matters into his own hands.
"And when I am done with you, we're going to execute her together, Rennie," Pollux screams, and his wrist flicks once more, Rennie buckling under the Master of Ceremonies grip, he actually slipping away and back onto the floor, now covered in a new pool of sweat. Blood is starting to slowly trickle from the bite on his neck, but Pollux is too lost in the thaw to really notice it.
He backs away, throwing his head back, as it looks like round six is about to begin, when Rennie stands up shakily, as if he doesn't even notice the blood anymore, and picks the tablet up.
All Pollux can think about right now in this moment is that this beautiful creature of a man, a gilded baby of delight, is his, all his, and there's nothing Lewlyn, or Calhoun, or anyone can do about it. Rennie clutches the tablet, wincing now from the stinging of the cut, fingers going away at the keys. Pollux can sense it deep down, that this man of his, his lover, the redhead angel from above is no longer going to be a pawn in someone's game anymore, that he is no longer going to become a caged bird for the masses to stare at, for the masses to gawk at and make fun of... he is going to become a player.
The Master of Ceremonies' grin widens even larger than he has before, the libido rocking straight up to the nth degree.
Rennie's response to Pollux's question is in a white font on the black background of the screen.
I'd love to.
Let's do it.
Well... ladies and gentlemen, there we are, Chapter #13: A Caged Bird, and hot damn I am glad I wrote this in one sitting over the last three and a half hours, as that was fun. So... it seems that Calhoun is mixing memories, something has stirred down in Lewlyn, looks like Pollux and Rennie indeed have hooked up - felt fun to push the boundaries just a bit with the T rating - and... it looks like a few of our characters might be getting bludgeoned with the insanity club right about now.
So, relationship wise we have Calhoun x Bonnie, clearly Rennie x Pollux, unfortunately there's Lewlyn x Rennie, then Arizona x Hale, saw a reviewer say Linden x Peri (which I don't totally disagree with), and our good ole' Santiago say Milor x Carrion, which is indeed funny and something I probably want to support. Which do you guys like the most? What do you guys think will happen next with the Capitol storyline? Interested to find out!
The next chapter, Chapter #14: Mind Torn in Two, is going to focus on four more tributes we haven't met yet and a bit of their background, around the same 5k-6k I reached with the last couple, and then Chapter #15: A Pit of Vipers will go back to the Capitol storyline, and I might be bouncing back and forth to each one of them, similar to LongingForRomeo's (who created Rochelle and Caiden, by the way, guys) own Capitol character storyline in their SYOT (which you should absolutely check out, as one of my own tributes, Jerry Kapper is in it), but there's some exceptions for it as well. I hope you guys do review, I will greatly appreciate it, and I cannot wait to have you all back with Chapter #14: Mind Torn in Two. Love you all! Bye!
~ Paradigm