The Stars
Title: Break Away
Characters: Pyro, Cuan, Matiy
Word Count: 831
Warnings: Language, mentions of criminal acts
Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games and the inspiration for these characters comes from another series entirely.
Notes: Couldn't really think of anything for "break away" so there you go.
006: Break Away
They pretended to be a lot of things.
Disguises were always on the agenda, no matter how small or inconsequential the job seemed. It could be something minor like a pair of worn glasses or a different hairstyle, but Cuan was very particular about their need for disguises.
Likewise, their roles fluctuated from job to job. Sometimes Pyro and Cuan would pretend to be brothers (with different mothers, perhaps), other times cousins or neighbors. If they were involved in a rather large job they might rope the others into the "story" as well.
The older Pyro got, however, the harder it was becoming to think of something new. They'd done the brothers and cousins act way too many times before and Cuan was getting antsy.
"If it weren't for that hair of yours…" Cuan muttered fervently, pacing back and forth along the dusty ground. He eyed Pyro's blond hair seemingly in disdain.
"Hey, shut it!" Pyro snarled, lunging forward threateningly. Not that he would do anything. He'd grown out of that habit of biting people he was displeased with long ago, thank you very much.
Cuan leveled him with a critical glare.
"We need to think of something different. Your eyebrows are also blond and we've come to the conclusion that nothing can change them without looking odd, so wigs are out of the question."
"Well I'm terribly sorry for that," he shot back, leaning against a stiff and crumbling pillar. It looked like this place had once been a factory, but it had long since been looted and was slated for demolition.
Cuan ignored his cheeky remarks, more than accustomed to his spitfire personality by now. In the years since he recruited Pyro, the two were rarely separated except for select jobs. Pyro simply couldn't get along with many of the others without starting a fight or argument, which was definitely not ideal when they were working.
Well, he argued with Cuan plenty, but the older man was better equipped with the patience to handle him in the long term.
"This next job is fairly important. It's for the mayor, you see…"
"Again? He's a greedy bast-"
"Yes, yes, don't insult the client unless he becomes a hit," Cuan said with a careless dismissal of his hand. Pyro frowned, crossing his arms over his chest.
"So what's the job? If it's another assassination then you can-"
"We need you this time." Cuan interrupted him so abruptly that Pyro had to stop and blink to make sure that he'd heard the man correctly. Cuan's eyes held none of his usual mirth, the infuriatingly smug air about him that set Pyro's nerves aflame.
"Really now," he said, eyes narrowed. "So you want to be brothers or cousins or what this time?"
Cuan shook his head. "You and Matiy."
"Matiy?" Pyro echoed, truly perplexed. He didn't often work with the others on important jobs, much less Matiy - she was often paired off with Sche or Syarnark. He didn't mind the absentminded girl's company, but Cuan was oddly out of character. He normally liked keeping an eye on Pyro, if just to make sure he didn't screw anything up.
Cuan suddenly stopped pacing and swerved sharply towards Pyro, snatching him up by the arm and dragging him off with a dogged, silent determination that irked him to no end.
"Hey, where the hell are we going?" he said angrily, trying in vain to break away from the man's iron grip. Geez, he really hated it when Cuan was like this - not telling him a thing until the act was done and over with.
He struggled the whole way into town, quieting only when Cuan had directed them inside a clothing store, more likely than not to purchase whatever disguise they were assuming this time.
Pyro stood aside and fumed as the older man delved into the racks and shelves, searching for something. He wouldn't tell Pyro no matter how insistent he was, so it was better to just sit back and wait for the result of Cuan's search.
It took ten long minutes for him to return holding a stack of clothes, none of which Pyro was feeling particularly keen on.
Especially seeing as they were all for girls.
"Which do you think Matiy would like?" Cuan asked, his voice still flat and serious. It was a low timbre, a pleasant tone, but Pyro had been long enough to roll his eyes at the man even though the seamstress behind them was peering at the handsome man unobtrusively.
"Why can't Matiy buy her own clothes?" Pyro shot back.
"It's a gift," he said quickly, almost too quickly. Pyro's narrowed eyes glared at him fiercely.
What was that an excuse for? He didn't know.
"The green one. Nothing too flashy or bright. She won't care, though. Try long sleeves," Pyro grudgingly obliged. Cuan paused for a moment, nodded, and disappeared into the shelves once again.
Pyro just sunk back against the wall with a groan.
Is Cuan going to make Pyro crossdress? We may never know...he would be young enough to pull it off if he didn't speak much.