{~turning tables~}Geebs

[Rosetta]

~Leianna Phiabac

For Leianna, the conference was another hassle. “Aren’t you Lila Phiabac’s daughter?” It was an interrogation of sorts where those who had known her mother looked the woman up and down, sizing her up. Is she anything like her mother, the legendary Peacekeeper, was? It probably didn’t matter. Until Leianna had entered the force herself, no one had known that Lila had had a child before becoming a Peacekeeper. She hardly found time to mention what she’d rushed into when she was rushing about keeping order.

And so each time she was asked, Leianna would answer with a simple “yes” and when a hush would fall over the white-uniformed seated around the long table, she could finally relax. The Annual Peacekeeping Conference had begun just two days prior. Around the table, they sat like statues, stiff-backed and not from the train ride there, dressed all in white, a note of irony to their impurity, helmets placed in front of them. There were greetings, the Treaty of Treason read and then, their Head honcho, the one and only Silana Tack got right down to it.

First on the agenda was the new Victor. “Good one,” one hook-nosed man had commented, “I like him. Strong.” There was a murmur of assent. Leianna had really no opinion on the new young Victor, Peridot. Stationed in District Three, the non-Career District wedged between the Big Guns, Leianna never saw much interest in the Games after the deaths of the District’s tributes which was usually early on. Even Leianna didn’t have much interest, despite her upbringing in District Two.

When she was young, Reapings weren’t measured in how many names she had in that bowl, but rather when she’d see her mother again.

“Is Mother going to be home soon, Father?”

“Soon, sweetheart, in thirty days. That’s a month.”

Reapings were measured in her scabbed knees as she tripped and fell, trying to make it to her mother’s arms before she was whisked off again. The ceremony passed in jiggling legs and sweaty hands, but not for fear that her name would be called (Lei, like the other District Two kids around her, would surely have welcomed the challenge), but for catching every glimpse of her mother’s face, hidden under that white helmet that betrayed no daughter nor a husband, the ones that was disowned until she finished her service.

Reapings were days of reunion as her mother came to the District to oversee the ceremony. They weren’t days of torn apart families, promises of victory that may or may not befall the new tribute or trembling lips, but rather days of smiles and hugs.

Leianna stiffened at the table, much like her fellow Peacekeepers, sensing the weight of times gone past pressing down on her back and tuned in to the conversation. Today, they were discussing recent crime in their Districts. A theft here, a brawl there. Leianna had experienced it all, but since being appointed Head Peacekeeper, she’d worked hard to squash it, calling upon the Peacekeepers under her and training them, grinding their noses into the dirt. Forcing them to keep order. And as far as Leianna knew, it worked in most cases.

No one could say she was less effective than her mother.

Exhausted at the completion of the day’s work, Leianna instantly retired to her room and forced herself into bed. Her mind was racing for the meeting, mention of past time, Peackeepers, it reminded her of Lila. Clearing her mind of her mother’s face, so very much like hers, of her tears when her mother donned the helmet again was like trying to clean a stain out of a shirt. Terribly hard and the last image Leianna had of her before she finally fell into a fitful sleep was her mother’s body in that casket. In accordance with tradition of those who died while in service, Lila’s face was covered with the helmet Lei hated so much on her.

On her, but never on herself.

It wasn’t morning when Leianna found herself jerked from her sleep by sounds outside her door. Shouting. Hurried footsteps and…Lei’s heart skipped a beat…was that a scream? Her instincts were quick. Leaping from the bed, she grabbed her uniform off of the chair it had been carefully laid over, pulled it on over her pajamas and departed from the room, helmet under her arm. And instantly, she knew something was wrong. The noises were disembodied and the halls were foggy, hard for Lei to see and for a moment, she thought she was lost in some kind of dream…before realizing, with a jolt deep in her fluttering stomach, that this fog must’ve been created by some real, tangible force. What was going on? Hallucinations? Uprising? Some kind of joke? Racing through it, Lei’s tense muscles relaxed when she saw another white figure ahead of her, only to seize up again when she saw who it was.

Cassius. Cassius Clayburn.

Lei’s cheek tingled, her scars searing and she was on her back, in bed, heart racing, eyes wide. Slash. Slash. Pain. Lei’s hands tightened into fists. That bastard. Rushing forward, she spun the man around and gripped him by the collar, dropping her helmet. “What the hell is going on?” she growled into his face, spraying him with spit and she knew he could see her scars. “Do you have something to do with it, you sonofabi-”

Lei only had a second to regret dropping her helmet. Because at that moment, something hit her very hard in the back of head and her entire world went black.

{Geebs, I hope you don’t mind her grabbing him. I wanted to ask you, but you were gone and I just wanted to post this post and go to bed. Tell me if you mind and I’ll change it!}

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[sbeeg]

Clayburn, Cassius

Peacekeepers made Cassius nervous. An odd feeling towards the group he was a part of, but still whenever the sharp click of polished boots followed him down the sidewalk sweat would bead up on his palms. Although most of the officers are dullards and are mere pawns to be used, some seem to see right through him. As if they know the dark secrets Cassius carries around with him where he goes, leaving trails of carnage and psychological nightmares in his wake. So entering an entire ballroom cramped from wall to wall with men and women dressed in white has got to be in the top ten things Clayburn did not wish to experience. However, becoming the Head in Four carries many obligations with it, so he was forced to attend.

Walking through the waves of white, Cassius felt his skin grow clammy and his heartbeat race. When he finally spotted his name on a place card at a near by table, he gratefully tossed himself into the chair. Others took their places beside him and suddenly he found it hard to breath. A petite woman was seated on his right, blonde hair pulled back into a bun. Plain face, not much to look at but when she turned to face the stage Cassius could see the side of her neck bulge with veins. Her skin was so pale he could see the blue trails criss-crossing beneath it. His fingers itched to grab a hold of it, to press until the blood stopped pumping- or better yet to grab a knife from the table and slash it right open, letting the crimson stain all the white fabric in the room.

Putting Cassius Clayburn in a room with hundreds of people was not a good idea.

Speeches were made but the man hardly listened to any of them. It wasn't like they were beautiful works of literature, they were dull words from dull people. When they were dismissed, Cassius waded through the throngs of officers and headed straight for the his room.

The man could here people outside his room, their voices slowed by drink and their laughs loud and hardy. How easy it would now just to sneak out and lure one into a corner and then- poof. Like a vanishing act they'd be gone. The smarter part of the man told him it was too risky. Killing a cop at a cop convention? Hardly a good cover. So instead of causing any more problems for the Peacekeepers, Cassius kept to his room. Even when he was lying in the sheets, trying to drain his brain of all thoughts, sleep never seemed to touch him. Dark eyes glared at the ceiling as the hours drifted past.

When the very first rays of light peered through his window, Cassius threw the blankets off him and grabbed his uniform. Eight hours of nothing was long enough, thank you very much. After his boots were tied and all the buttons of his coat done up he left the room, his helmet swinging from his fingers. No one on his floor appeared to be awake so rather than rushing down on the elevator to an empty lobby, Cassius took the stairs. Stationed on one of the top most floors, it was a long enough decent to pass some time. Slow, calculated steps down the gray cement staircases, wondering about all the sleeping Keepers on each floor.

When he reached the lobby, Cassius' muscles were all well stretched, if not a bit sore. Opening the door he prepared to be met with the droning on of some other dull officer but what he saw proved that his theory was completely off. All he managed to take in was that there was not a single white uniform in sight, yet what must have been at least hundred people. One of them caught his eye, pointed and called out to the others. Cassius did not stay to see what would happen.

Racing up the stairs he was reaching for the door to the second floor when a blood curdling scream pierced the air. It's a massacre he thought, pushing his body up the next flight of stairs and threw the next door. There were screams but the entire hall was flooded with smoke. His breath was erratic, his lungs trying to keep up. Cassius found himself empty handed, his helmet left abandoned in the stair well. Taking out his pistol, Cassius raced started down hall towards the screams ready to spill some blood when a door flew open. A Peacekeeper in a similar state of disarray came out, a woman about his age with a scars across her face-

Did he know that face?

Evidently, she knew his because the woman came right up to him and took a hold of his shirt, spitting in his face. Blood rushed to his cheeks, his fingers taking a hold of her forearm. She was yelling at him and his mind still raced to place a name with the face but through all the smoke and chaos he wasn't given much time. His eyes took in the scar on her cheek and a memory flashed across his eyes.

That little bitch thinks she's so much better than me. Little whore who only got in because of her mother. Some girls just need to be taught a lesson, and he'd teach her something she will never forget.

A knife, nails, blood, screams. It would scar, he made sure of that. Marked forever because she thought a little girl could beat Cassius Clayburn.

Lei, is it? Like flowers? Looks like this once just got crushed.

The man peered over the woman's head at the figure but with her hands wrapped around his collar Cassius hands were blocked from raising his gun.

"Stupid bit-" a little blue bullet whirled through the air, pinching the skin of his neck. The floor lurched to the side and Lei fell to the ground. The entire hallway twisted and turned, the wall was hard against his back- or was it the floor? A face appeared over him right before the world was drowned in darkness.