Gavril Scynthe's Story

Not caring about the unstable motions of the train as it travelled towards a currently unknown destination, Gavril continued sketching with relative ease on a piece of paper taken from his journal. Lifting his pen mid-air, he studied the draft with curious eyes. The features were still unrecognizable; aside from the familiar lines marking the face with ears at both sides and a nose in the middle… it was nonetheless nothing but only a scratch yet. He made two almond shaped-circles on the upper part of the paper, drawing it on top of the guidelines that he placed before in order to represent his subject’s eye. Tracing the lines in order to darken the circles, he sketched the irises of the eyes.

He was just suddenly inspired to do something, and though he drew different images normally, this one had been greatly bothering him for quite a while now. He did not know what encouraged him to start the picture but knowing that once he started drawing, he would see it until completion now that he could still recall some of the details.

He then stopped drawing momentarily, when he was done softening the edges by removing the unnecessary lines, and tried to recall the other notable details about the subject. He was not certain about his memory and what he currently knew was not sufficient enough to provide all the information that he needed. The only thing he can vividly remember about the person was the color of the eyelids. It was bright blue and if he had some colored pens with him right now, he would try to capture it. It was just like Gavril to be as accurate as he could. Despite his knack of forgetting even the most obvious details, he would copy the features of the person to the best of his abilities. He then continued where he left off, taking deliberate attention to outline the rest of the features. While his current illustration was somewhat comical, a cartoon-like face of a man, complete with widely smiling lips and the shining shimmering teeth represented by the sparkles over it, Gavril have precisely proportioned the picture to look slightly realistic.

Still fully concentrated on his drawing, he continued to work in silence, only stopping when he was done. Once he had completed it, he stared at the representation of a smiling man wearing a tailored suit with light bulbs on it. He racked his mind for the identity of his newest sketch and it took him several moments to remember the name.

Caeser Flickerman.

It seemed like he had spent more than an hour just for drawing Caeser. Raising the paper at eye-level, he looked at his drawing. It was an almost perfect cartoon replica, and Gavril wondered why he had the sudden urge to draw him. There were many questions that have been plaguing him, ever since he started doing this minutes prior, but there was one thing that was most tempting for him to know.

.

..

...

Who the hell was this Caeser Flickerman?


He did remember the name and the features that were for certain, but all along, Gavril had no clue who he was sketching. This was common for him – to draw someone unfamiliar but today had been strange. He didn't know what compelled him to sketch Caeser and for that he silently wondered. Running a hand through his hair in exasperation, he then took his journal and browsed his recent entries. It was highly likely that he would write something about Caeser… perhaps.

Turning the journal a few pages, he placed the piece of paper into the seat and he browsed through several drawings of faces and some timed events. It took him few a while to read through his journal. His notes were meticulous and he kept it updated as much as he could. He usually wrote and drew about the faces of the recent people that he met along with a basic description about his first impressions for them and some additional details. He would also write the last activity that he did, always making sure that he include the date and time of the activity. He knew that he would be simply lost if he don’t make an effort to update his journal.

Having your memory literally refreshed every now and then—after an hour or so was something that he was not truly happy with. It was pathetic and laughable. Though he had gotten used to this, having had to take notes since his childhood, he was not satisfied. Forgetting others momentarily had given him the excuse to be detached as what he normally wanted, but it was also a pain to overlook even things that are of significant value to him. He could handle not recalling about other people, but there were moments that he had even forgotten what he did which had inadvertently almost caused him great trouble.

Sighing, he then stared at the ceiling and thought of what he wanted to do next. He can now recall who this man was supposed to be. He was interviewer for the Game and he had asked him along with the other tributes about their ‘reaction’ for this year’s quarter quell. Among the recent happenings in his life, the game was something that he could clearly remember. It would have to do something with the fact that the game could either help him to give him a chance to get a cure for this memory loss or kill him.

Glancing at the image once again, he had the sudden urge to do something. Taking the paper, he started drawing some objects into the picture, placing additional details on it. Two small triangles on top of the head to represent devil’s horn, a pointed tooth aligning with the rest over the wide-opened mouth and the end of the devil’s tail somewhere from the bottom, he then added a large trident along the left side. Smirking at his finished product, Gavril shook his head at his display of childishness. 'Served him right', he smugly thought. He hated the man, and he hated the way they needed to be called on stage looking like idiots as they answered chirpy inquiries from him. It was stupid, and nothing else but stupid. Just like what happened on their ‘chariot’ ride or anything else that he had recently read from his journal, he was still questioning why they had to do things like those.

Gradually getting bored with thrashing his drawing, he stood up moments later and stashed off his things in his bag. He then decided to get some food, feeling hungry all of a sudden. He left his room, taking a pen and journal, and walked outside, not really having a direction in mind. A while after of getting lost and reaching the front of the train, he found the dining area on the back and nodded in acknowledgement towards a chirpy black-haired short boy's greeting. He took a seat, and quietly observed everyone else. 'Why did everyone else seem to be here?' He could not help but ask mentally, somewhat confused with their presence. Though this was obviously a dining car, he didn't think that the others would be here as the same time that he was. If he knew there would be people around, he would have gone later instead of now.