The Law

[sbeeg]

~Look down, look down
Don't look 'em in the eye
Look down, look down,
You're here until you die~

There are some things you don't expect when you've been on the street as long as I have. You forget that things are illegal and then when you're reprimanded for it things just get frustrating. Someone ratted me out. A Peacekeeper? Clyde? It doesn't matter, someone snitched and when I got out of wherever the hell I'm going I'm going to shove my foot so far up their ass they'll taste shoe leather.

I had taken my spot on the corner like every night. The traffic was sort of slow and when a Peacekeeper started to approach I didn't shy away, I stood my ground prepared to mark off yet another white uniform served. Turns out that in the state of Panem that prostitution is illegal and sometimes they enforce it. Before I knew what was happening the man had my hands tied behind my back and was leading me towards the white building that I had never set a foot near. I had heard horror stories of the Detention Center. Things like it isn't actually a jail but a lab to test out the best way to kill people or that they test out Games equipment there first before shooting it at tributes. Whatever the case, I didn't want to become its next victim. I fought against my holder which only earned a hard strike against my cheek. Everything blurred together after that. The blow made my head spin and the next thing I remember is a rough hand grabbing my arm and a sharp pinch in the skin in the bind of my elbow then all black.

Groaning from a throbbing headache, I came to and was jerked upwards. I was not granted enough time to adjust my eyes to the changing in lighting, or to take in my surroundings. Everything was a just a gray blur and cold. The air had a bite to it that made my spine shiver. The clinking of metal keys and the creaking of a door on a rusty hinge.

"You should probably grease that," I said a little slurred, my eyes half closed still groggy from whatever they shot into my blood last night. Being sleepy also makes me restless.... more so than usual. "I can help you."

Smiling and snorting with a tired laughter at my retainer, who did not find my joke as funny as I did, I was thrown in a cell. Stumbling, I fell on my stomach instantly cringing at the coldness of the cement floor. The door slammed behind me and suddenly I was in dim light again. My eyes didn't appreciate the abuse and neither did my knees when they smashed into the ground. I pulled myself together, hugging my knees to my chest as I blinked to wake my eyes up. I was still in my outfit from work that night and as you might imagine it didn't help against the cold.

How long was I going to be in here?

Alone in the cell I looked around at the furnishings. A crude rendition of a toilet, a pitiful looking sink and two beds. Well, I assumed they were beds. Dragging myself to my feet I stumbled over to the bed closest to the door and flung myself onto it.

Never been in prison before. This'll be interesting.

[Deleted]

Freya Hanig

[/font]

In only a moment, the darkness became darker.

The sea of warmth that had enwrapped Freya as she stood next to Kormiko suddenly became cold.

She could feel her heart beating, could see her breath as everything left inside of her turned to ice.

Someone had grabbed her by the arm, and then by the other, slapping a hand over her mouth before she even had time to take one last breath. She couldn’t see Kormiko: it was much too dark out. But all she could think about was the chance she had thrown away, the chance she had taken for granted.

“Did you hear that?” She had asked him, a slight rustle of the bushes coming from nearby. Why hadn’t she clung to him at that moment? Why hadn’t she told him how she felt before they were pulled apart? Maybe she could have held him tight enough to deem them inseparable, to make it impossible for either of them to be pulled away.

Who was she kidding?

A moment’s hesitation and Freya had lost her chance. If only she could get two more seconds: two more seconds to tell Kormiko how she truly felt. True, she didn’t know what love was, but being with Kormiko sure felt like it, being that she usually had a lot more hate in her life than love.

Freya struggled against the arms that were holding her back. She assumed they were peacekeepers, but who really knew? Peacekeepers never bothered with monitoring Capitol citizens. It was the Districts they were worried about. Freya kept kicking and thrashing, trying to break away, but failed, only receiving a blow to the stomach. She bent over slightly, the pain making her dizzy. She knew she was weak. Although she had been the fastest runner in her PE class last year, and nearly one of the strongest girls she knew, she was nothing compared to these bulky men. In fact, she was nothing compared to anyone outside these Capitol boundaries.

Once she caught her breath, Freya struggled again, vowing not to give up. This time, an even harder blow came to her stomach, all of the pain leaving her, as she passed out.

When she awoke, Freya didn’t know where she was or where she was going. It was still dark and her eyes still had to adjust. She was too confused to fight against the men that were leading her. Immediately, Freya felt a shove and fell clumsily to the ground. She quickly got up, her eyes adjusting just as the door to the cell was shut. Freya took a moment to take it all in. Where was she? Some sort of prison? She didn’t think there was anything like that in the Capitol. No, maybe a small jail, but nothing as cold and dark and hostile as this place. Or maybe this was the Detention Center: a place Freya had only read about in books. Either way, Freya knew she wasn’t going to waste her time relaxing in here. Way ahead of herself, Freya knew what she wanted: a way out. No matter what the cost.

Completely ignoring the fact that anyone else was there, partly because she couldn’t see all that well, Freya climbed up onto the metal shelf, supposedly acting as a bed. She needed to find Kormiko. She needed him to hear the words that she was desperately holding in. Freya felt the walls and the ceiling on all sides before climbing down. She wasn’t giving up now. There had to be a way. There was always a way. Quickly, Freya rushed to the sink, so fast she could barely process what she was doing.

She wiped the bit of sweat from her forehead before stuffing her few hair ties down the sink in order to stop the water from going down. She quickly turned on the faucet, letting the water build up slightly in the few seconds she had it on. Reluctantly, she turned the faucet off, realizing it was no use. Flooding the place would do no good. There was no escape.

Freya brought her hand to her forehead in distress, her mind continuously thinking. She was out of inspiration. Kormiko was gone, who knew what her family would think when they woke up in the morning, she felt like she had a fever building up just from all of the stress of this, and there was still an increasingly large feeling of pain in Freya’s stomach. Freya sat down on the metal bed, literally out of breath. It was then that she noticed she wasn’t the only one here. She jumped up in skeptical surprise as she spotted the other girl. How had she not seen before? She had been so focused on finding a way out…

“Who are you?” Freya said coldly, almost as if it were a snarl. Freya immediately knew this girl was no Capitol citizen, just by her appearance. At that realization, she suddenly felt bad for being so straight-out rude.

Freya felt anger coursing through her. How terrible it was, that the Capitol would actually put their own citizen in here, a place where only the worst of the District people went. Although, the thought brought a slight smile to Freya’s face. Being here meant she was officially a threat. The thought was almost comforting. Was she really that dangerous now, dangerous enough to be here? [/justify][/color][/size][/blockquote]

[sbeeg]

~The sun is strong
It's hot as hell below
Look down, look down,
There's twenty years to go~

It was awfully cold in the that cell and, still in my "work" clothes, I wasn't dressed for it. Hugging my knees to my chest, I tried to keep warm. I leaned back against the wall my bed was attached to. Even the stone was cold. I have expected to see my breath when I exhaled.

A large amount of time had passed since I was thrown in the cell. I had managed to sleep of the rest of the effects of whatever they injected me with. That, and I found out that there is absolutely nothing to do. I spent half of my time in there picking off what was left of the nail polish on my nails. It was a little treat from Cillian a few weeks ago. Cillian... at least I knew that he didn't rat me out. The question of who did still floated in my mind. Any of my customers could have... so could a large portion of the Peacekeeper force. Actually, almost anyone in District Six could have sold me out. My trade wasn't exactly very subtle.

Staring off at the wall on the opposite side of the room, I jumped when the sharp creak of the door opening broke the chronic silence that had filled the cell. Light poured in and my eyes didn't have time to adjust to it. Someone stepped in and the light vanished as quickly as it had come. Footsteps faded down the hallway and looked at the new person in my cell.

They didn't even look my way. My eyes quickly readjusted to the dark and I watched the intruder as they made their way to the other bed. It was a girl, not very old. She ran her hands along the walls and quickly jerked up and ran over to the sink, stuffing something in it. I could only raise an eyebrow at the actions. This girl was a little funny. The girl went right back over to her bed and sat down on it, her heavy breaths making as much noise as the door did when it moved. Finally, she seemed to see me and jumped nearly a foot in the air.

"Who are you?" Frankly, I hadn't had hardly any human contact in what felt like forever. So I did what I do best, screwed with her.

"Your conscience," I said sarcastically, stretching my leg out so it hung out over the edge of the bed.

The girl was young and very plain. Brown hair, plain clothes all that jazz. I wondered if she had come from District Six too. Where ever she had come from, she didn't look like a criminal. Or at least the criminals I knew.

[Deleted]

Freya Hanig

[/font]

Freya immediately decided that she didn’t like this girl. Your conscience? What kind of answer was that? Freya was done with people like this girl: people who thought they could go around, care about nothing, and still end up in the right place. Life didn’t work that way. Not in Freya’s book at least. Freya instantaneously began making wild assumptions about this girl merely from her appearance and the first few words that had slipped out of her mouth. She was extremely pale, her hair was a white-blondish color, but she looked careless.

Freya sighed, rolling her eyes as she took her eyes off of the girl. Freya knew she was better than that. At least Freya was in here for doing something decent. Sure, she had broken probably a bunch of laws doing it, but at least what had gotten her here had been for a larger cause. Who knew what this girl was in here for? Maybe her crime was worse than Freya’s; maybe she was some sort of insane murderer. Who really knew?

Either way, Freya hated when people messed with her. She knew she was better than that, better than pure sarcasm. She didn’t resort to silly words like “your conscience.” She kept things reasonable; because without some sort of reason, some level of seriousness, nothing would get done. Freya liked straight answers: they made everything so much easier. But fine, if this girl didn’t want to answer, that was okay too. Freya would just…sit here by herself and….wait. For what? The suspense was killing her.

“Watch it,” Freya muttered, turning her eyes towards the girl and giving her a slightly cold glare. She didn’t need to say anything more. She wasn’t intimidated by this girl, or at least, she was trying her best not to be, but considering the girl was probably older than her and possibly more dangerous than her, well…there wasn’t really much she could do. The girl looked a lot more like a criminal than Freya did. Besides, Freya wasn’t really a criminal, was she?

Freya suddenly caught the few words that had slipped from her own mouth. “Watch it?” Somehow, those two words had a distinguished place in her memory. They had a certain level of significance, but where from? Freya immediately caught on. They had been the first two words she had said to Kormiko the day they had met; those two words had been her introduction to the man she had thought to be utterly despicable. And yet, look at where she was now. Had she really not changed since then?

Freya suddenly caught herself back on track. Where was Kormiko? Was he here too? Oh, there were just too many questions circling Freya’s mind: questions she had no answers to. She wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead. Too stressful, that’s what this was. Kormiko had to be in one of those other cells, right? Nothing bad was happening to him, hopefully? Even if something was, he was strong enough to hold himself together. Well, maybe not as strong as myself… Freya thought. Confidence was playing tricks on her mind.

Freya sighed, standing up. She couldn’t sit down any longer. She was angry and stressed and confused and the list went on forever. She crossed her arms, refusing to face the girl, and instead spoke with her back towards her. “Well, if you’re going to be sarcastic about your name, at least tell me what the heck you're in for!” Freya had to admit, she was curious. She wanted to know what kind of crimes other people were put in here for. Most of all, Freya wanted to know how severe her own crimes really were in comparison to this girl's.

OOC: Laptop crashed, lost my post, then lost all muse for rewriting it; sorry for taking so long! [/justify][/color][/blockquote][/size]

[sbeeg]

~I've done no wrong!
Sweet Jesus hear my prayer!
Look down, look down,
Sweet Jesus doesn't care~

Evidently my cell mate didn't appreciate my type of humor. She shot me a glare that I guess was supposed to show me "how tough she was" or some shit like that. She muttered a threat under her breath, but it wasn't loud enough for me to hear it. Coward. The way she looked at me like I was no good vermin that belonged in here with all of my sins. I'd seen people like her before, the righteous women who hurry themselves past, trying to pretend that they didn't spoil their mind by looking at me. Men did it too, but not to that extent. They'd wrap an arm around their wife's shoulder and act like they didn't notice my reveling clothes but when she wasn't looking they'd take a quick glance in my direction. They're all liars. That or naive.

I'm not sure what set me off on this girl but there was a fire burning in my belly that all the water streaming from the pathetic sink in the corner could quench. The girl kept sitting and standing. Make up your goddamn mind already! She wouldn't even spare a look in my direction. How saintly could she be? She was in prison too! The little, perfect princess had her back to me when she finally spoke again- in a voice that I could hear. “Well, if you’re going to be sarcastic about your name, at least tell me what the heck you're in for!”

That is it. I slammed the heels of my boots into the metal of the bed, making it ring out and echo in the cell and probably down the hall too.

"Listen Ms. Uppity I don't have to say shit to you and I certainly don't have to do what you say. You might think you're so much better than me but look around ya! You're in the same hell hole so you better get used to it. Either take the stick outta yer ass or be a little bitch and get yer head in the toilet. Your choice."

I was on my feet by then, getting closer to her. After wrapping up my speech I felt completely drained. There had been nothing to do in this cell but build up my anger and no that I had let it out there was not a whole lot to do. The next part didn't have as much spirit but it was sharp all the same.

"Maybe if you asked me politely I'd tell ya." What I wouldn't give to be back in District Six with people who were on my level... and a bottle of spirits wouldn't be bad either.

OOC: It's okay! I had to type this one up rather fast

[Deleted]

Freya Hanig

[/font]

Freya took a few steps back after the girl had finished her little speech, folding her arms to make it look like she still had her balance on things. The girl’s rant just caused her to realize how much bigger the world was, how little Freya had thought this all through. The Capitol was a safe place, but here? Here, she could get hurt. Honestly, the girl was right; now that Freya was here, she was just as low as any other District criminal. Still, who did this girl think she was? Freya wanted to shout at the girl, throw something smart back at her. Honestly, though, what was the point? Sure, Freya was reckless; but she wasn’t stupid.

She decided there was no use in wasting her energy here and now. There was no need to start anything, especially when Freya knew there would be no winner. Besides, as much as she already despised this girl, she was naturally curious. Her books could never fully capture what went on outside the Capitol. Being outside of that place was still considered an adventure to Freya: maybe not the most pleasant or intriguing, but an adventure all the same.

Freya knew what she really wanted to do: she wanted to show the girl she was better than that, better than what the girl had ranted on about. The sad part was, Freya knew she wasn't. Not here. Sure, back in the Capitol, no one fought with her, and at least, when they did, she always won. In the Capitol, she wasn’t afraid of letting out and being rash. No one called her out on it, and when they did, she knew there was no way they could harm her. Until now, of course.

Freya looked back at the girl, trying to figure out what to say. Maybe if she made up a bunch of lies, she wouldn’t have to start anything, things would turn out alright, and Freya would be able to keep from going insane in this cell. Besides, Freya still wanted answers; she wanted to know what really went on here. Being from the Capitol, she knew so little. However, the only way she’d get her answers was if she cooled down a bit.

“Look,” Freya said through gritted teeth. “I know we got off to a rough start.” God, what was she saying? She hated this girl. Freya had never been an actor, but this was just terrible. Sure, she just wanted to tone the tension down so she could get some answers out, but even she had to admit, she was the worst criminal ever. She couldn't even speak like one. Being rude and being a criminal were definitely two very different things.

“I’m Freya from…err…” Why had she not planned this? She took a moment to think. She didn’t want to say she was from the Capitol; who knew what kind of hate this girl would throw at her? The upper districts didn’t sound like a good idea either: too many Careers, not enough criminals. Freya knew she didn’t look like she was from any of the lower districts, so she decided to pick one smack-dab in the middle. “…District Six...and I just want some answers, okay?”[/size][/blockquote][/justify][/color]

[sbeeg]

~I know she'll wait,
I know that she'll be true!
Look down, look down,
They've all forgotten you~

I had seen some bad liars in my short time but this girl was something else. “I know we got off to a rough start.” What a joke! Was this girl just one long practical joke that the Peacekeepers gave me for entertainment? Must be, because she's just too ridiculous to be true! Freya? What kind of a name was that? Too pretty. Too fragile. Freya just sounded too airy and gentle. Where as Charlotte was all hard sounds. I very much like my name... mostly because it isn't something fruity like Freya.

The girl stutters when mentioning her District. I didn't think much of it when it happened but after she the words "District Six" passed through her lips I went on guard. I had lived in that District my entire life. I had connections, I knew almost everybody. I was constantly outside, walking down the streets and I had never seen this girl before. My eyes snapped up and caught her gaze. She was lying and I knew it. No girl from District Six would be that soft looking... or have the name Freya for that matter. However, I didn't know how long I was going to be in this cell and I figured this joke of a girl could humor me.

"District Six, eh? I've never been there," two can play the lying game Little Miss Freya.

Leaning back against the stone wall to my back I looked the girl over for a few moments, contemplating whether or not to give a fake name and then decided it wasn't worth it.

"I'm Charlotte- by the way. There- asked nicely, not too hard," I almost left it at that. Almost."So what's District Six like?"

[Deleted]

Freya Hanig

[/font]

Keeping Freya Hanig in the Detention Center was like putting a goldfish in the sea. The new species: the sharks, jellyfish, whales, and all sorts of dangerous sea animals, combined with the salt water and the vastness of the new environment, were an unavoidable threat.

Pretending to be some other kind of fish, bred in the ocean, was useless. Because in the end, no matter how much a goldfish pretends, a goldfish is a goldfish, just like a shark is a shark.

Freya Hanig was a freshwater goldfish, and in this unfamiliar sea, she could barely breathe. She wasn’t built for this much salt intake; she wasn’t used to it.

Freya was used to getting away with the slightest of punishments. She was used to shouting out her ideas, and getting scolded to a minimal extent, or not at all. Though, she’d never been punished like this. She’d never had to deal with people who’d done things that were even worse than the things Freya had the ability to imagine on a daily basis.

The girl in front of Freya seemed to be from another universe. When Freya imagined people from the districts, she imagined their lives exacerbated by the Capitol. Never did Freya think of District citizens as criminals or killers. Rather, she thought of them as merely unfortunate, poor, and worthy of her own pity. Seeing that there actually were criminals in the districts was eye-opening.

Then again, Freya never saw criminals in the Capitol either. Most of the people there were just plain stupid, ignorant, and uneducated about the world around them. The real criminals, Freya visualized, were the peacekeepers and the president and everyone involved in running the government.

Freya’s image of the districts seemed to be ruined by this realization. Too often did Freya expect perfection. Not only did she expect perfection; she dreamt perfection. Having lived an easy life in the Capitol for fifteen years as an only child, the fact that she chased after such immaculate dreams wasn’t such a surprise.

Her easy-going Capitol life was also justification behind her extreme inability to lie. In the Capitol, there was no reason to lie. All Freya had to do was shout a few things and get her way. She never needed to be careful, and when did, she never went as far as to lie.

But now, she was lying; and she knew how fake it sounded.

Living a life where everything was handed to her, Freya never learned many skills that those in the districts learn by pure nature. And now, she was the one at a loss.

"I'm Charlotte- by the way. There- asked nicely, not too hard.” The tone of her voice was still sarcastic, but at least she wasn’t calling Freya out on the lie. “So what's District Six like?"

Oh gosh. What did Freya know about District Six? She knew it was very involved in science, but that was pretty much it.

“Well, there’s a lot of schools…and there’s good education. And my dad’s a doctor. And, uh, well my boyfriend…” Just saying the word brought the sight of Kormiko back into Freya’s head. But were they really a couple? Freya doubted it. “…he’s like, aspiring to be an engineer. Basically, everyone’s pretty smart.” Freya hoped it sounded convincing enough, even if her explanation was completely off.

For a few moments, Freya stood there awkwardly before asking, “So what about you? What district are you from?” She paused, looking at Charlotte for a moment. “District Twelve, I’m guessing? I mean, looking like that…”

Ignorant Freya didn’t even realize until a few seconds later that her words had actually been an insult. Naturally, she wasn’t used to seeing district citizens on a daily basis, so any signs of lesser clothing, care, and overall, just lesser appearance, was poor in her eyes. To the extreme.

However, she didn’t bother to apologize or take her words back. If Charlotte actually was from District Twelve, then that would definitely serve no purpose.

Freya’s head hurt; she hated having to think like this, having to lie, and having to worry about how weak she looked in front of this district criminal. A feeling of homesickness filled her. What had she been thinking to believe there was anything beyond the Capitol was worth seeing, much less fighting for?

She longed for Kormiko. She felt empty without him at her side, yet their last meeting together had been a tense one—did he even love her? Was he even alive? Did he long for Freya too? Or was he indifferent, just waiting for time to pass by in this sorry old place?

Freya waited nervously for Charlotte to respond, merely waiting for this all to be over.

Freya had made mistakes, and although she didn’t regret any of them, she knew she probably should.

OOC: So, I know I like left and when I came back I never really got to replying to this thread, so I know it's been like four-and-a-half months, but I was bursting with Freya-muse and like, I needed to RP with her so badly and I'm super sorry for the superduperduper long wait. Like supersuper sorry. So yeah...reply if you'd like, but no pressure or anything.
[/blockquote][/size][/justify][/color]

[sbeeg]

~Look down, look down
Don't look 'em in the eye
How long O Lord
Before you let me die?

Smart. Everyone in District Six was smart and well educated. I let that roll around in my head for awhile. I'd like to think I'm smart, but I'm no where near "educated." The Peacekeepers are, but then again a lot of them aren't smart at all. Just little power hungry worms. Living on the wrong side of the District for so long, I could not remember the last time I laid eyes on the college near the square. All the kids with rich parents got to go there and work for the Capitol. Not me- oh no, the Blairs had never been rich. In fact, with my steady job, I was probably the wealthiest one. Leaning my back against the stone wall I took in this Freya "from District Six." She was much to fat to be from a District. Well, she wasn't fat, she was thin but not the kind of thin you find in the Districts. The kind where you could study the human body through the thin layer of flesh on starving children.

Oh and then this Freya girl went and shot off her mouth again. Oh you must be be from District Twelve because you look so ratty. A small grin moved my lips and I leaned forward towards her, my voice barely a whisper but the words still echoed against the metal cell.

"You're full of shit," this game was boring, the longer we played it the worse of a liar this Freya bitch became. It was tiring and just plain embarrassing to watch her dig herself into a hole so deep. "How about, from here on out, we don't lie to each other anymore. Here, I'll start. I've been to District Six before, because I live there. It ain't full of smart, educated people neither, so if you're going to lie do it about something you know about. Now, I know you ain't from some District- not even one of the Capitol's pet ones. So, question is- how'd you get yourself in here, Capitol girl?"

OOC: It's fine, I'm sorry this post is crap I haven't used her so she's all rusty and blah

[Deleted]

Freya Hanig

[/font]
Oh. Awkward. Freya bit her lip. She had a one-out-of-twelve chance of picking the wrong district. Of course, that one-out-of-twelve chance acted against her. She crossed her arms as Charlotte continued with her little spiel. She knew. There was no point in hiding the fact that Freya was a Capitolite.

The lies were over; and Freya found that was quite a bit relieving. Freya was definitely much more skilled when it came to honesty. In fact, she was too honest sometimes, blurting out the first thing that came to her mind. There was no point in lying in the Capitol; it was difficult to actually get yourself into trouble.

When Charlotte ended her speech by asking how Freya—“Capitol girl”—had gotten in here, Freya’s eyes immediately strayed to the floor. She felt ashamed of herself: as though the Capitol wasn’t just a place you lived, but rather, a lifestyle or even a nature. Just the way Charlotte had said those two words made Freya cringe. She didn’t want to live the Capitol lifestyle; in fact, wasn’t that why she was here?

Although, what other lifestyle was there to live? A life in the districts, where you were stripped of your resources and your talents, forced to work a countless number of hours every day just to make sure there’s something on your dinner plate? Besides, were their plates anywhere near as extravagant as the Capitol’s? Did District people even eat on plates? The questions that invaded Freya’s head were never-ending.

Freya realized that even the things she had read in those books as a child, buried in the basement which was now engulfed in ashes, could not capture what went on within those barbed-wire fences. Most of those books were old, still reflecting on the history of Panem. Freya had assumed her knowledge of the districts was much higher than most, and honestly, when compared to most other Capitolites, it was. However, Freya knew the stereotypes. She knew the bland facts. She didn’t know the little details.

Freya thought long and hard about her answer to Charlotte’s question. What was she in here for? When she thought of her recent past, the only thing that she saw was Kormiko’s face everywhere. Kormiko. Kormiko. Kormiko. Freya pushed the image from her mind, trying to remember every little thing they had done. “I dunno,” she said. “I mean, I read a few things I shouldn’t have, I shouted a lot of things I shouldn’t have—probably got picked up by some cameras, and then I, uh, stole some things I shouldn’t have, and burned a bunch of bookshelves down.” When she said it, it all seemed like nothing. Hadn’t Freya done something so much more major? I mean, she’d basically set a basement on fire, but really, she felt like she was missing something.

Supposedly, Freya wanted to prove to herself that she wasn’t just another stupid Capitolite, completely and utterly ignorant when it came to the rest of the world. However, she knew that was exactly how Charlotte viewed her. Freya's mind was still stuck on this subject. She felt her cheeks reddening, flushed with anger. “You know what? You can stop acting like I’m a spoiled little bitch,” the word sounded odd coming out of Freya’s mouth. So rarely did she let any type of swear word slip from her lips. “…because if I were, I’d be back in the Capitol with all the rest of them. You may not believe it, but some of us little ‘Capitol girls’ hate our authorities just as much as you do. In fact, by burning all of those criminal records, Kormiko and I staged a two-person rebellion that probably saved a whole bunch of your little criminal friends.”

She unfolded her arms. “But you know; now I’m sort of starting to regret it!” If this was what everybody in the districts acted like, Freya didn’t know which was worse: ignorant Capitolites or rude, sarcastic, rebellious District citizens—if that’s what they acted like.

Inside, the unbreakable Freya, who often went so far as to stand around and shout about everything wrong with the Capitol in order to scare everyone away, was tearing to pieces. Back there, she was strong; but here, she was weak. Rarely did Freya cling to people, but right now the one thing she was clinging to, was her memories of Kormiko. Waiting to finally see him again was like waiting for food during starvation—not that she knew what that felt like.

Sighing, Freya calmed down, the anger that had possessed her only moments ago, now gone. “And what are you here for? Sarcasm overuse?” Freya said tiredly, her gaze unchanging.[/color][/size][/blockquote][/justify]

[sbeeg]

~Look down, look down,
You'll always be a slave
Look down, look down,
You're standing in your grave

Read a few books? Burned a few shelves? God, this girl was the living example of a bore. Fire could be interesting but this Capitol snot made it sound like it was homework. Rolling my eyes, I looked up at the ceiling while she droned on about books and cameras. I bet they had those things all over the place in the Capitol. Fat, rich people need watching over, they may fall over and not be able to get back up- just rolling and rolling on forever.

The tone caught my ear first, but the curse drew me in. The way the girl's mouth treated the word, it was obvious she wasn't accustomed to using such words. Her cheeks were flushed and it was fairly amusing to watch her get all worked up. Well, it was entertaining until she started really working her mouth. I thought she was bad while pretending to be a District citizen- oh no, Honest Freya was a hell of a lot worse.

"Oh, I bet you all just hate your cozy little lives! As a matter of fact, I don't remember there being a meeting of District Six hoodlums to write a letter to a couple of goodie-two-shoes up in the Capitol. We never asked for any of your help because we don't need it. In the Districts you aren't a criminal because you think it is fun, or rebellious or whatever the hell you did it for. We steal, and kill and whore because it is all we can do," I was on my feet and my voice was thick with anger but it was starting to break. I'd reached something way too close to home and I didn't like it. However, I was too far in to turn back now. "You steal because if you don't, you'll starve. You don't go lighting shit on fire because you think it'll help people. You think you're a hero but you're just a snot nosed girl that didn't know what real people go through daily."

I was actually getting tired of speeches and talking altogether. My knees were weak and I was forced to sit back down on the edge of the metal bed jutting out from the wall. With my head in my hands, the room stopped spinning but my anger and my exhaustion still remained, mixing together into a cocktail I'd rather not have clouding my mind. Another question. Endless talking. My throat was beginning to hurt from all the lecturing.

"Why am I here? Heh. I spent a night with a humorless Peacekeeper," looking up at her, I wanted to see just how innocent those eyes were. "I'm a whore. Someone finally decided to turn me in, humorless Peacekeeper no doubt."

[Deleted]

Freya Hanig

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Freya tried to reason with herself, holding herself back as Charlotte went on about how she never asked for help, how people like her didn’t just make trouble because they could, and how Freya, herself, knew nothing about what real people went through every day. Real people? Freya was a real person, was she not?

At least, she was trying—maybe a bit too hard. However, it wasn’t her fault she was born into utter privilege. If only Charlotte could realize that being forced to watch others suffer—even if they were just strangers on television—sometimes seemed almost just as painful as living it. Freya hated watching things. She absolutely despised the feeling of having no power to change the rules she desperately thought needed to be altered. Too much ambition and curiosity filled the heart Freya Hanig.

It was the basement that she had spent her childhood exploring that truly had ignited her curiosity. The books, the letters, the newspapers, and even the tapes she had discovered had been stored and kept away for a reason. Too many of them had been examples of rebellious propaganda.

These discoveries were what caused Freya to start nagging her parents for answers on what went on in the Districts. It was what made her realize how oblivious people truly were. Although she never found the answers she had wanted, Freya’s curiosity to understand the world was unending. That’s why she had told Kormiko she wanted to run away; and that’s why she and that basement had been inseparable for so long

Or maybe Freya just wanted some reason to be confident. Maybe that feeling was what had put her here in the first place. Why was she trying to fight for people she didn’t even know or understand? Morality? Or defiance? Freya knew there were loose threads inside her. If you tugged on them hard enough, there was a chance they would create a bigger hole. Of course, she often liked to hide this insecurity behind her words.

Words weren’t always enough, which was why for the first time in a very long time, for a few moments, Freya kept her mouth shut.

Freya watched as Charlotte sat down, putting her head in her hands. She went on to explain herself. So she’d slept with a peacekeeper?

Prostitution wasn’t a common thing in the Capitol. In fact, it was basically a concept unheard of. There were so many other options: so many easier ways to find money. It just wasn’t worth it. Besides, most Capitol ladies were ready to give themselves away without another moment’s discussion.

Of course, though, Freya had heard a few stories here and there. However, she had never been aware of a law ever deeming prostitution illegal in the Capitol, and the few laws that did exist were easy to get around. But few people tried.

Freya watched Charlotte skeptically. Every day, Freya passed Peacekeepers on the streets, often on vacation, away from the districts to visit their families and such. In fact, her parents had many peacekeeper friends, and frequently invited them to their parties or their dinners. Thinking about the things that these peacekeepers put their district citizens through was terrible. She never liked most of the peacekeepers; most of them were obnoxious and pompous in her eyes. Not that she liked most Capitol citizens in general.

To be punished for doing your job, trying to muster up a few bucks to pay for necessities, suddenly caused Freya to sink back into her shell of guilt. Maybe the people here weren’t criminals, but rather people desperately trying to survive, as Charlotte had stated.

Freya tried to empathize with Charlotte for a moment. Too much prejudice filled her to be able to empathize with another Capitolite, or really anyone that she had already gotten a bad first impression of for that matter. However, she’d never expected to ever think of Kormiko the way she did now.

Freya could tell Charlotte was exhausted after throwing her one last glance. Freya had so many words on the tip of her tongue, screaming to be set free. She swallowed them quickly, realizing that she, too, was tired of arguing.

Yet, it took a lot of strength for hotheaded Freya to sit down, keeping her distance. She could tell that part of it was the intimidating nature of Charlotte, as though Freya had something to prove about herself.

After a few moments of silence, Freya wanted to respond. However, the momentary silence had left her with no words to say. She was about to speak, but quickly shut her mouth, second-guessing her ability to respond. Freya had no way to apologize or even sympathize without coming across as pathetic. Naturally, she wasn't too good at it in the first place.

Yet, the earlier conversation was still fresh in Freya’s mind: it wouldn't leave her. The words were still ringing.

…didn’t know what real people go through daily. Real people. Real people.

Before she knew what she was saying, the desperate need to put the last word in caused the few innocent words to slip from her lips.

“I’m a real person…”

OOC: Eh...not too proud of this post. [/color][/size][/blockquote][/justify]