District 8
Homosexual
18 Years Old
Relationship:
With Asher Reynolds
Occupation:
Factory worker
HG Status:
Over Reaping Age
Last Online:
Mar 19, 2020 19:46:35 GMT -7
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Post by Cerulean Dyer on Oct 18, 2017 22:21:30 GMT -7
Cerulean felt the familiar crunch of gravel under his shoes as he started down the path leading out of town and towards his parent’s house. Once, he’d thought of the place as home. Without Sienna, it was desolate. Empty. The boring white of the walls, only a shade or two darker than the ceiling, drove him crazy. Asher’s apartment was a place much more deserving of the affectionate title. Sure, the place was far from the picture of luxury Cerulean had grown up in, but it was easily his favorite between the two. Asher’s apartment was clearly lived in. Chairs not pushed in at tables, a morning paper on the table, dishes in the sink: they all pointed to life, to inhabitants. Generally. the Dyer’s house felt more like a museum. Cerulean still wasn’t sure why he decided to take Asher there. Together, they’d explored what felt like the entire District. Everywhere expect his own house, of course. Since they’d began dating, Cerulean found more than one reservation. First of all, there was the obvious worrying about his parents unexpectedly coming home (though the fear was more irrational than the others - the Dyers’ schedule was clockwork, and even when they did return home, very little of their time was spent outside their own rooms.) More than that, though, he worried what Asher would think of it all. The house was furnished in carved mahogany, in beautiful tile made by the laborers of 2. Each inch of it screamed luxury and excess. To Cerulean, each inch felt like theft from the starved corpses in the streets. What would Asher think? But beyond those main reasons, Cerulean’s mind created thousands - no, millions - of others. For the past week, the idea had been nagging Cerulean, though. To finally find relief, he decided to give in. As soon as they were finished with their work, Cerulean found Asher, giving him a nervous smile. ”I have someplace new for us today.” Thus, he found himself working up the courage to explain their direction. ”So, um,” Cerulean said, taking a deep breath, ”I’m running out of clean clothes, and I figured that since I’m around a lot, I should pitch in for bills.” He fidgeted with one hand, unable to quell the rising nervousness that knotted his stomach. ”What I meant to say,” he began again, an attempting a fresh start for the explanation, ”is that I thought you should probably see my house - or, well, my parent’s house - since we’ve been together this long. Didn’t want you to think it was some crazy castle with moats or something like that.” Cerulean laughed weakly and looked to his boyfriend for validation, for some sort of reaction to the suggestion, hoping to find something good in his eyes. Words: 511 Tags: Asher ReynoldsNotes: See the song by Ansel Elgort in the same name as the title |
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District 8
Homosexual
21 Years Old
Relationship:
Single
Occupation:
Dyer
HG Status:
Over Reaping Age
Last Online:
Apr 20, 2020 12:42:14 GMT -7
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Post by Asher Reynolds on Oct 22, 2017 9:50:46 GMT -7
Asher still loved being a dyer. When he'd started the "career" years ago, he'd thought he would probably outgrow it eventually. He figured that one day, he'd simply be done with it and want to move on to something else. So far, that day hadn't come. Maybe it was the clear results of his labor, the vibrant hues that one day would be worn by someone as an expression of who they were. Maybe it was that he was good at it, and people recognized that he was - he wouldn't be working in this factory otherwise. Maybe it was the people, at once demure when the bosses were around and joking when they weren't. Or perhaps it was one person in specific, that person for whom he now scrubbed his hands with the harsh soap and checked out his own reflection for. Walking out of the bathroom, Asher found that person waiting for him and smiled as he fell into step beside him. "Someplace new?" he repeated. "I was beginning to wonder if there were any more new places." They both walked outside, and he knew the protocol. It bothered him sometimes, not to be able to hold Cerulean's hand as they walked in public or walk too close. Any affection in public or work was stolen, which did make it a bit exciting, but for the rest of the time, he had to try not to think about it. Today was one of those days he could accept it, since it was such a nice day and his boyfriend had something new to show him. Eventually, Cerulean spoke again, and Asher turned his attention from the buildings around him back to the other boy. "Cerox, you really don't have-" But he was cut off when Cerulean went on, and figured he'd get back to that later. Stella had mentioned it actually, not seriously he didn't think, but if it became serious, Asher would just pay the difference. It was wonderful enough to have Cerulean at his place - his boyfriend didn't need to pay for it on top of that. But for now, he listened to this proposition for a new place, one Asher had almost forgotten about wanting to visit. "I was picturing a moat," he teased with a grin. "There's really no moat?" The prospect was exciting, actually getting to see the place where Cerulean lived - sometimes - and grew up. It did feel like a layer of mystery surrounded the Dyer home, and perhaps that was mostly because they were also his bosses. They were also wealthy in a place where wealth was rare, and how could anyone not wonder what kind of place they were living in? Asher could see Cerulean's reluctance though, and reached over to give his hand a brief squeeze. "I'd love to see it."They took another few steps in silence, Asher paying a little more attention to where it was they were going. As he did, he started to think more about the destination. There were, of course, reasons that it wasn't the best idea in the world to go visiting the Dyer house. Two big reasons in fact - the Dyers were his employer, and he was dating their son. Meeting the parents was always a hard thing, even if he sort of already knew the parents. At their home though, it was different. And if Asher made a fool of himself - like he occasionally did - would his job in the factory be at risk? But maybe they wouldn't even be home, and the two boys could explore the house unhindered. "Are Mom and Pops going to be around?"
WC: 607 Tag: Cerulean Dyer |
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District 8
Homosexual
18 Years Old
Relationship:
With Asher Reynolds
Occupation:
Factory worker
HG Status:
Over Reaping Age
Last Online:
Mar 19, 2020 19:46:35 GMT -7
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Post by Cerulean Dyer on Oct 22, 2017 13:40:02 GMT -7
Thankfully, Asher’s reaction was a hopeful one. Cerulean had never sat him down to have the “my parents are rich beyond what most rational people define as being rich” talk, but he assumed that Asher filled in the blanks. What he didn’t know were Asher’s thoughts on the matter. The Dyers had made their wealth so substantial in being loyal to the Capitol throughout the rebellion. On the outside, they were apparently neutral. Many rebels worked at the factory, finding it one of the only stable places for employment. They weren’t going to march on the place that allowed them to feed their family and tear it down brick by brick. Unbeknownst to the rebels and other good citizens of District 8 were the soldiers quartered in the Dyer’s warehouse. Ash promised the Dyers that they would reward them handsomely for their support, and, as promised, they followed through. The Capitol favored the Dyers in trade, awarding them with the bulk of mass orders and cutting down barriers that other suppliers throughout the District fought against. Ultimately, in this post-war economy, there were the Dyers, the vast majority of the District who clung to unstable jobs and prayed their way to the next meal on their table, and the very lucky few that managed to fall somewhere in between. Taking your boyfriend to see this firsthand was risky. Some would call it suicide. Cerulean had thought about it for a long time, though, and decided that it would have to happen sooner or later. So, with a relieved sigh, Cerulean agreed, ”Yep, no moat.” Just a landscaped garden and groundskeepers. Just a household staff. The next question was easier to answer. ”No, thankfully. They’re ridiculously predictable. They come home at 6:30 every day and sit down for dinner, eat until 7:00, then go into their room and stay there until morning.” Cerulean kept walking, moving down the roads that led him to his house. ”But Ida will be there, and she might actually be a bit more intimidating for you, at least for now.” Realizing he didn’t explain her, Cerulean tried again. ”She’s the… head of house, basically. Ida oversees all of the workers there, and has for like… maybe twenty years now. She basically raised me when I was younger and, unlike my parents, knows things like what my favorite color is and… who I’m dating.”Ida was the first person Cerulean had confided in. She accepted him easily and had since been demanding to meet Asher. ”If it helps, she’s really excited to meet you.” He remembered how she reacted when Cerulean told her. Ida was a beautiful woman in the way exactly opposite of his mother. Cerulean’s mother was rigidly and conventionally beautiful. Skin that looked years younger than she was, clean, pressed clothing, and smooth, straight hair. Ida, on the other hand, was very different. Her face had wrinkled, with smile lines forming around her lips and crinkles at the edges of her bright green eyes. Ida was beautiful because she was happy and carefree, and it was constantly written across her face. That happy face turned to elated, and she embraced Cerulean immediately. After that, she’d become a stream of embarrassing advice and constant questions. Even though it was awkward at times, Cerulean truly appreciated it, because all of them were signs of her caring. Finally, the pair rounded a street, turning onto the one leading to his house. The dry ground had led to gravel, and the bright green lawn ahead was extremely obvious. In the middle of it sat the bright white home. District 8 was a perpetually brown place, with the air and streets tainted by the smoke pouring out of the factories. Keeping the mansion white required constant upkeep, and that in itself was telling of the inside. Large white pillars ran up the front, supporting the roof that sat between the three levels of house. The house was perfectly symmetrical with its lit windows shining in the same places on both sides. The whole place felt horribly sickening now while viewing it beside someone who’d seen the rest of the District. ”So,” Cerulean said hesitantly, too afraid to look at Asher’s face, ”This is home.”Words: 739 Tags: Asher Reynolds |
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District 8
Homosexual
21 Years Old
Relationship:
Single
Occupation:
Dyer
HG Status:
Over Reaping Age
Last Online:
Apr 20, 2020 12:42:14 GMT -7
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Post by Asher Reynolds on Jan 3, 2018 9:13:13 GMT -7
Asher let out a dramatic sigh at the confirmation of there not being a moat, but he was just mostly covering up some of his anxiety. He wanted to see the place, and he didn't. The Dyers obviously did well for themselves, better than most of the district. That was a big part of why it was so much of an honor to work in their warehouse, an honor Asher didn't want to lose. The Dyers were powerful, and if they wanted to, they could destroy him easily regardless of the fact that he was dating their son. Or, maybe, because of it. That's why Cerulean's next words actually made him feel better. "Good, so we know where to avoid." The day he met Cerulean's parents as a boyfriend certainly didn't have to be today. Asher's normal banter wasn't with him for now, so he let Cerulean be the one to keep talking. "Ida?" he repeated, not sure if he was supposed to know who that was. A grandmother? Some celebrity he'd missed as being a part of the Dyer household? No, it turned out, but a head... um, servant? The Dyers had servants, so many in fact that they needed someone to be in charge of them. That was just totally normal, wasn't it. This wouldn't be at all like going back to his place, where the most he'd have to worry about was Stella and one of her guests. The Dyer house wasn't just empty when the Dyers themselves were gone. He didn't want to be careful in his alone time with Cerulean like he had to be at work and when they were out in the district, which is why what his boyfriend said next was surprising. "She knows about me?" Asher asked, and he was grateful for that. Maybe he wouldn't have to be as careful. "It does help. Not sure I'd want to go in there if she was really excited to throw me back out." The way Cerulean talked about Ida was already different than how he talked about his parents. Perhaps Ida was the one he should be more concerned about impression for Cerulean's sake, even if she had nothing to do with his job, but he wasn't. If she was as great as Cerulean seemed to think she was, from that brief description, then he should be okay. Maybe he could just be Asher, or at least the best version of his normal self. It felt like if she liked him, it would make Cerulean happy, so Asher smiled. "I'm excited to meet her too then."They turned a corner, and Asher found himself walking alongside his boyfriend toward a large white illusion. He'd never had much reason to come to this side of the district before, and what was before him had to be an illusion. Who was crazy enough to have a white house in District 8? And a green lawn? "So, this is home," he heard beside him, and he froze. "You mean," he began, stalling to let his thoughts catch up to the rest of him, "this is home to President Wilhelm Ash, and you've somehow magically transported us to the Capitol." He glanced behind him, where a more familiar version of District 8 lay - although this was the nicer part of the district - then back at the mansion in front of him. "Wow," Asher said, still not sure what to say or what to think. To say that the Dyers were wealthy felt like a gross understatement now. To say that they were powerful felt like saying the president had some say in how the country was run. Asher unfroze himself and started to take a few steps forward. "So you grew up here? In this?" "During the war?" he wanted to add, but didn't. This clearly wasn't the kind of house you could build in the year since the war had ended.
WC: 656 Tag: Cerulean Dyer |
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District 8
Homosexual
18 Years Old
Relationship:
With Asher Reynolds
Occupation:
Factory worker
HG Status:
Over Reaping Age
Last Online:
Mar 19, 2020 19:46:35 GMT -7
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Post by Cerulean Dyer on Feb 12, 2018 19:48:49 GMT -7
Asher’s shock was natural and predictable. There were few places in the District that looked anything like Cerulean’s house. That wasn’t an accident. Cerulean’s parents helped the Capitol and, in return, gained safety. Their home was far enough away from the city to avoid damage from the bombs. In fact, Cerulean assumed that the bombers knew to avoid his part of the District. It felt disgusting. The Dyers bought their safety - or, at least, they tried to. Their range didn’t extend to the poor parts of the city where Sienna sometimes ventured. Even the Dyer’s money had its limits. Cerulean’s parents weren’t mad at the Capitol for Sienna’s death. To them, her passing was of her own accord, or maybe of fate’s, but not at the fault of those who dropped the bomb that blew apart the building which crushed her. After the war, the Dyers accepted the Capitol’s handsome rewards. Their factory became the preferred one for Capitol buying, and they were given some servants - war criminals, apparently, who lost both their tongues and their freedoms as penance for their crimes. It felt dirty. It was dirty. Cerulean managed to smile a bit. ”You’d really be shocked by Ash’s mansion, then. I’ve seen pictures, and it’s something else. But this is something else, too, I guess,”He watched Asher struggle to understand what was before him and felt his stomach twist. All of his insecurities and guilt manifested in this single moment. ”Yeah,” Cerulean said, nodding. ”My grandparents lived here before my parents. The house has been in the family for a long time.
Cerulean wanted to reach for Asher’s hand as if they were in the familiarity of his apartment but had to stop himself. He had no idea who might be watching. ”So… are you ready to go inside?” Cerulean asked, not wanting to force Asher forward but also not wanting to just stand in front of his house. Ida would come out for them if they waited much longer. He was sure that she’d already seen them and was eagerly waiting. Cerulean promised her he’d bring Asher home eventually but hadn’t given her a specific day. Really, the whole thing was dependent on whenever he mustered the confidence and nerve to bring Asher over.
The pair moved forward, and, at the last moment, Cerulean decided to go through a side door instead. He didn’t want to overwhelm Asher by thrusting Ida on him while he was adapting to the house around him. Cerulean pulled a set of keys from his pocket and unlocked the door. He didn’t let himself hesitate before going inside.
They entered the side hallway. The floors were a uniform dark wood, obviously of some age. The same color of wood ran halfway up the wall, and the difference between there and the ceiling was split with a dark green paint. The place felt cold and distant, having none of the warmth present at Asher’s apartment. Cerulean reach behind him and squeezed Asher’s hand for a single moment before asking, ”what would you like to see?”
Words: 549
Tags: Asher Reynolds |
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District 8
Homosexual
21 Years Old
Relationship:
Single
Occupation:
Dyer
HG Status:
Over Reaping Age
Last Online:
Apr 20, 2020 12:42:14 GMT -7
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Post by Asher Reynolds on Jun 12, 2019 10:15:36 GMT -7
"Shocked, yeah," Asher said, though it felt like the understatement of the year. If this was where Cerulean lived, then yeah, President Ash's house was probably beyond his wildest comprehending. The Reynolds family had never been destitute, not really, but no one would look at them and call them wealthy either. They'd survived alright when he was growing up, and now that he lived on his own, Asher survived too. He'd always known that the Dyer family existence was far more than just "surviving", that Cerulean was pretty well off, but he still hadn't expected this place. He didn't quite know what to think, and hadn't been so truly aware of the differences in how both boys grew up than he was now. Asher just nodded when Cerulean said his grandparents had been here before. He'd never really inherited anything, unless you count the devilish good looks he did get from his father. If his parents had inherited the house he grew up in, it was a sad excuse for inheritance compared to this. At Cerulean's question about going inside, Asher let out a breath. He wanted to shrug, as if this was no big deal and he was totally cool about it. But he also didn't want to seem like he didn't care by doing that, and it felt important that he act like this was as important as it was. So he put on a small smile and said, "Yeah, let's go inside."As they walked forward, Asher desperately wanted to hold Cerulean's hand. He could feel his fingers aching for the comfort of his boyfriend's grip, yearning for that sense of grounding. But, he didn't. He couldn't, because what if Mr. and Mrs. Dyer were standing in front of one of this house's many windows and saw? What if they didn't wait for any sort of explanation, but decided to fire Asher as soon as he stepped inside their house and forbid him from ever seeing their son again? Asher didn't care so much about the forbid part, because he'd see Cerulean anyway. He did loads of things his parents hated, when they bothered to notice. It would be easier if Cerulean's parents liked him though, and he did very much want to keep his job. He was keenly aware of how lucky he was to be working in a factory that was a Capitol favorite. It meant steady work and, as long as he kept doing a good job, some job security that other factories in the district didn't enjoy. It would be dumb if a little hand-holding cost him all that. Cerulean was far more important than the job - of course he was - but that didn't mean he was going to be stupid about the rest of it. Although they initially seemed to be going for the front door, Cerulean steered them to some side door. Asher certainly didn't object to that. Start small - it was a good strategy. Once inside, he let his eyes wander along the hallway. He reached out to touch the wood that covered the floor and ran halfway up the wall. It was a beautiful, rich color and felt so smooth underneath his hand. There wasn't wood like this probably anywhere in his part of the district. He pulled his hand back when he felt Cerulean's in his other hand, for just a moment, as that moment sent a little bit of warmth back through his skin. Asher scratched the back of his neck, looking left and right down the hallway as if it could provide some sort of answer to Cerulean's question. What kind of rooms did a house like this even have? Bedrooms, kitchen, bathrooms, living room - that was the extent of rooms he knew were in houses. Fancy ones might have a dining room too. He did want to eventually see Cerulean's bedroom, but that didn't feel like the right place to start. "I want to see the most ridiculous room you've go in here," he finally decided, knowing it sounded pretty lame. But he was immensely curious about that as soon as the thought popped into his head. "Like, a room you've go to hold your tennis ball collection, or as some museum to pre-war furniture or something. You got something like that in here?"
WC: 719 Tag: Cerulean DyerNotes: Wow, it's been over a year since I posted here! Almost a year and a half! Gah, time is a mess
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District 8
Homosexual
18 Years Old
Relationship:
With Asher Reynolds
Occupation:
Factory worker
HG Status:
Over Reaping Age
Last Online:
Mar 19, 2020 19:46:35 GMT -7
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Post by Cerulean Dyer on Mar 19, 2020 19:43:03 GMT -7
Cerulean’s stomach twisted at the sight of Asher in his house. While Cerulean lived here, he’d spent the time thinking of Asher and imagining what being with him might be like. He never pictured it coming to this. Even though Cerulean was so content with his boyfriend, he wished that they didn’t have to hide like this. Cerulean actually preferred Asher’s apartment a million times to the house where he’d grown up. He could be comfortable and relaxed there, and, more than that, he could openly be with Asher there. He wasn’t worried about who might see them kissing or holding hands or sitting too close - unfortunately, Stella had accidentally seen far more than that a time or two. Cerulean’s stomach turned at the thought of coming out to his parents. He certainly didn’t plan on shying away from the boy he so desperately loved, but he also didn’t relish the idea of telling them about that either. It was inevitable, of course. It was sure to be ugly and loud and divisive for at least a little while, but Cerulean knew he would be ready. He frequently thought back to that dream he’d had about Sienna that felt so real. Cerulean hadn’t told anyone about that dream, not even Asher, but he’d written it all down so he wouldn’t forget the details. The dream grounded him and reassured him more than anyone knew. Cerulean sighed a little before laughing. ”Truly, I wish I could tell you that there wasn’t something like that, but there actually is.” And of course there was. With a house this big, some of its rooms sitting completely empty, there was bound to be an oddity within its walls. Cerulean headed down the hallway and took a left into a room with a cracked door. The room was interior to the house, specifically selected for its lack of windows. The room was massive but empty of all furniture. The focal point of the room was the walls, where dozens of large tapestries hung, all dyed different shades, some accented with white embroidery. In some places, the tapestries were so crowded that one hanged over three others. Cerulean felt the presence of Asher at his side, but he continued to look at the items in the room before him. ”This is the room where my parents take visiting guests. These are all the colors that the Dyer factories have ever produced,” Cerulean explained, vaguely gesturing at the walls. Bright yellows hung beside vibrant purples and deep greens. ”It’s sort of like a history of the factory.” Cerulean reached down, interlinking his fingers with Asher’s, gently pulling him forward. With his free hand, Cerulean ran his fingers across a smaller burgundy tapestry hanging in the corner of the room. ”But they’re also sort of family history. It’s a weird tradition, but every single time a new baby was born in the family, or someone married in, they specially made that color at the factory." A deep, regal eggplant color for Aubergine, a newer, raven black made for Corbeau upon his marriage to Cerulean’s mother. Rose pink, ivy green, and others, all hanging together in a hidden corner. Cerulean pushed behind all of them, revealing one tapestry covered in both bright blue and dark orange. He ran his fingers across this tapestry slowly. ”These were moved a couple of years ago. Aubergine and Corbeau didn’t feel like answering the questions.” Cerulean looked back towards Asher, a slightly sad smile on his face. Asher was the only one he could speak about Sienna with. Cerulean carried the pain quietly in the time since her death. If her name ever came up, people instantly shut up and looked nervously at Cerulean, as if he would crumble upon hearing her name. Asher was a safe zone for this. Sometimes, he told Asher stories and shared fond memories. It helped Cerulean keep Sienna fresh in his mind and think of anything other than those televised moments of her end. ”This was her favorite room in the house,” Cerulean explained, a small twinkle in his eye. ”Sienna made up weird stories about where the colors came from and critiqued some of the choices. Mostly, she planned for the colors that we would get rid of and the ones we would invent when we ran the factory.” The sweet memory brought a smile to his face, one without a terrible amount of pain. He loved having someone to share this with, and even more than that, he loved that the person he was sharing it with was Asher. Words: 790 Tags: Asher ReynoldsNotes: Well, this came a long time later. I hope we can get back into this lovely pair <3 |
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District 8
Homosexual
21 Years Old
Relationship:
Single
Occupation:
Dyer
HG Status:
Over Reaping Age
Last Online:
Apr 20, 2020 12:42:14 GMT -7
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Post by Asher Reynolds on Apr 5, 2020 11:57:24 GMT -7
Asher grinned when Cerulean said that there was indeed a ridiculous room in his house. Of course there was. Was it a private zoo with a tiger? A room full of mirrors with weird, colorful objects? He was pretty sure that his imagination could come up with all sorts of things, and none of them would actually be whatever this room was. Wealth was so astonishingly foreign to him. His parents never had really had extra money, and while they never starved or anything like that, life was mostly about getting through to the next thing. Their house was functional, with a few personal touches from Mom, but it wasn't beautiful like this house. As a result, Asher had never needed to own much himself, and although he and Stella had made the apartment as much their home as possible, it didn't really have anything it didn't need. For most of his life, Asher had never really thought he'd missed out on anything. The difference between him and rich people was just stuff, and who cared about a bunch of stuff? But what on earth would it be like to have grown up in a place like this? Where there was so much you didn't really need, and you had at least one room that was dedicated to something so wildly unnecessary? He wasn't disgusted by the excess, as he was a bit afraid that he would be, but curious and a little jealous. Sure, his boyfriend never had a great relationship with his parents - who did, anyway? - but his childhood must have been so radically different from Asher's. Probably happier too. When they finally reached the room, he was surprised again. It made sense that the Dyers would have a room just for colors, but it hadn't even entered his brain. He'd stopped in the doorway, marveling at the display of so many colors. Many of these colors he recognized as ones he'd mixed and dyed with, while he was sure that he hadn't seen others the entire time he'd worked in the factory. Cerulean's hand pulled him further into the room, and he allowed himself to be lead as his boyfriend talked. As he took in the colors of the few family members he knew, Asher knew what was coming next. When the blue and orange tapestry was revealed, he felt a little stab in his heart. He'd known Sienna before she died, and known Cerulean only since, so he'd never really experienced them together. From the way Cerulean spoke about her, it really was fitting that they shared a single tapestry. Asher had never experienced a loss like Cerulean had when he lost his twin, one like the tapestry being ripped in half. Except even here, displayed as Aubergine and Corbeau must have intended, the two colors weren't relegated to separate sides of the tapestry. Sure, each color had their prominent side, but the color of one side occasionally danced with the other. Ripping it in half would still leave traces of the other color, as traces of Sienna were still everywhere. Asher had been surprisingly quiet, letting Cerulean take his time explaining the room. When Cerulean finished by talking about how this was Sienna's favorite room, Asher squeezed his hand then, forgetting where he was for a moment, kissed the back of Cerulean's hand. "I can see how it would be her favorite," he said, returning his eyes to the two-colored tapestry. "It's magnificent in here." Even if he wasn't sure that work in a dyeing factory was his life's goal, he always had enjoyed the vast array of colors they produced there. There were colors in the factory and in this room that you couldn't find anywhere else in District 8. So few of the colors leaked into the clothes of the people he knew, so of course there was something astonishing about experiencing something he only could at work. "Can you tell me one?" he asked, indicating the vast room with his free hand. "A story, or one she hated. One day, all of this really will be up to you." It was actually something he rarely thought about, but he knew that the Dyer factory was handed down to heirs. He knew enough about the company to know that, as Sienna had when she plotted in here with her twin. It didn't bother him that he'd be working under his boyfriend, although it was bound to bother others when they all found out. He couldn't imagine having that kind of job though, owning and running an entire factory. Sure, he could direct little newbies in what to do, but running the show? He didn't envy that position.
WC: 784 Tag: Cerulean Dyer |
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