Opposed // [Kaplan]

[sbeeg]

Charlotte Blair

Voulez vous coucher avec moi ce soir
Voulez vous coucher avec moi

A thick gray cloud had sat over District Six all day, dousing it in rain every hour. Charlotte had peaked out the tiny window in her rented room, watching the drops slip down the glass. Business had slowed down considerably. After a stent in the detention center and yet another brilliant vanishing act by Clyde the girl was at her wits end. The few regulars she had in the brothel had switched over to fresher girls, and she was lucky to earn even a few coins on a good night.

"Rent is due on Sunday. I'm not a fucking charity."

The would be no money for Charlotte in her room tonight. The coin was outside tonight- come rain or shine.

Heels clicked against wet pavement, a few lazy droplets falling from gutters and trees. It was hot tonight, the heat mixing with the rain making the air stick to every piece of skin exposed. Charlotte couldn't stand to wear a jacket in the heat and instead opted for a tight t-shirt with the neck ripped dangerously low and short skirt, black fishnets covering pale things. It wasn't smart to wear something so blatant outside, not where Peacekeepers could see, but Charlotte couldn't afford to miss a single customer tonight.


She could feel the swig of whiskey she took while getting ready tingling in her fingertips. A cigarette balanced in a trembling hand as she met her old friend. The lamppost at the corner of Fourth and Obedience in the heart of the warehouse district. This is where she met Clyde for the first time. Charlotte had to admit there was a desperate part of her that hoped the man slipped from the shadow crooning words that were five syllables longer than they needed to be.

That wasn't going to happen.

Her fingers went to the ring hanging on a chain around her neck. It was the most expensive thing she owned, but she couldn't pawn it. It was from him. It was the little piece of him she could hold on to even if he wasn't around.

Even if he wasn't coming back.

Charlotte leaned against the metal pole, laying her head back against the cool steel. She had to stop thinking about Clyde. He'd disappeared before and it had wrecked her, she couldn't let herself crumble again. She had work to do and things to suck.

The young woman took a drag from her cigarette. She didn't even enjoy smoking, it just gave her something to do, something to keep her hands busy and her mind blank.

Blonde hair fanned around her head like a halo, her eyes circled with black smudges, and her lips painted blood red. She wiggled her hips, hiking her skirt up her thighs to show off as much as possible to the men walking home through the dim streets.

Lovely lady for sale, get a taste while you still can.

[kap]

[googlefont="Questrial"][googlefont="Rock Salt"]

Xantiago Ozlimario

The evenings in District Six weren't as cold and dead as many poor souls may believe. In fact, around this time of year, they were much more humid, muggy and full of criminals or other sketchy folk lurking the streets, and although Peacekeepers couldn't take care of the undesirable weather conditions, we could still, to the best of our abilities, keep the scum from roaming the back alleyways and sidewalks of our beloved District that we had always known as our home. Whether or not an individual had the desire to reside in District Six, if it was where they were born, it was likely where they would be staying. Therefore, it was part of my job to keep the place safe for people to live in and not have to fear for their safety or their lives every waking moment.

As a Peacekeeper, I suppose, in a way, since I protect the people, I'm like a soldier. I went through the necessary training and worked my ass off to get to the point I'm at today, and I'm not afraid to use all of my training and hard work to do my job the right way. I'm not a rule breaker. At least, not anymore. Sure, I have a daughter, which I'm not supposed to, but I follow their rules regarding her, and we don't live in the same household. Instead, she lives with my sister who I sincerely believe is taking sufficiently good care of her. There's no doubt in my mind that my daughter is living a good life, despite it not being under my roof.

Tonight, I had been assigned another late-night patrol shift of District Six, where I was born, raised and am now stationed. Therefore, I'd be going out into the streets, flashlight in hand and gun at my hip, roaming the area and keeping an eye out for any sort of suspicious activity. When I'd changed into my uniform to go out on duty, I'd traded my usual fedora and button-down shirt for my helmet and Peacekeeper uniform. I was ready for work, and, as I always did, I'd be focusing on it, not letting anything get in the way of my job to protect the people who lived in this place.

As usual, suspicious activity didn't seem all too difficult to come by tonight. The individual that stood out to me immediately was a girl, leaning against the metal pole of a lamppost and smoking a cigarette. It wasn't the cigarette, however, that caused me to find her a bit out of the ordinary. Usually, in my everyday life, I wouldn't judge someone for how they were dressed. When I was out patrolling, however, I had to judge every person's appearance, ever person's words, and every person's actions, just on the off chance that they were doing something that they weren't supposed to be doing.

This particular young woman was dressed in some rather revealing clothing, as well fishnet stockings. Her skirt was hiked up quite a bit, and she was clearly, at least, from my point of view, trying to catch someone's attention. My guess was that the attention she was looking for wasn't mine, however. No one that was dressed in such a manner would want the attention of a Peacekeeper, especially this late at night, as it would only cause said Peacekeeper to keep a closer eye on the person.

Keeping a closer eye on the girl was exactly what I did, too. I didn't even need to shine my flashlight in her direction to see her clearly, and seeing her clearly helped me have a general idea of just what she was up to. If I had to guess, I would suppose that this girl was a prostitute, or at least looking for some sort of payment for sex, even if she didn't do it regularly. Although, with how she was portraying herself, my guess was that she likely did this quite often. I, personally, didn't want to approach her. It was likely that the young woman was desperate for money if she was going to go about getting it in this way.

Regardless, though, I had to do my duty as a Peacekeeper and approach her, just to find out for sure if she was breaking the law or not. Therefore, I went up to the girl, flashlight now switched off, as the streetlight illuminated us enough to see one another rather clearly. I spoke to her as soon as I approached, so as to not just be lurking about. I needed to be straight and to the point with my words.

"Hello, miss. I'm Peacekeeper Xantiago Ozlimario. Might I ask what you're doing out here so late tonight?" I asked her this, making it a general enough question for her to be able to confess if she chose to. If she didn't choose to, however, it still gave me a bit of room to pry and try to find out exactly what she was up to, even if I thought that I already knew.

---

842 words

SWANSKI

[sbeeg]

Charlotte Blair

Come on, my little darling, be mine,
Don’t say no!
You’re going to be my sweetheart
Until nine o’clock tomorrow

"Hello, miss. I'm Peacekeeper Xantiago Ozlimario. Might I ask what you're doing out here so late tonight?"

Shit.

She held her breath, the smoke stinging her lungs as she turned to face the man. His uniform was blindingly white even in the dim light of the streetlamp. He was older, with a soft face. Even his voice was soft. He wasn't like some of the other Keepers that slipped down the alleyways. Not like Helmsby. No, he wasn't looking for anything here, only doing his job.

Which, didn't exactly mean great things for known criminal Charlotte Blair. Memories of cold blank days locked in the detention center flashed to the front of her mind.

Not again. Never again.

She blew the smoke out the side of her mouth, careful not to send it in the direction of the officer. She'd learned the hard way about that little trick.

"Officer, can I ask you a favor?" she asked, giving him a shy smile. Fingers quickly fell to the hem of her skirt, yanking it back down to appear just a bit more decent. "Do you think you could walk me home?"

Her mind blurred as she thought of each scenario she could spin. Some had worked before, but she couldn't reuse them too many times. Word got around, Keepers talked.

"This boy at school, Mitchell Black, he asked me out on a date. He said to meet him here but..." she dug her nails into her palm until she warmth flooded under her fingernails. Her eyes pricked with tears and she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, letting the floodwaters rise so that the precise moment she opened them again- tada! A single tear rolled down her cheek. "He never showed."

"I kept waiting and then the sun went down and now I'm too afraid to walk by myself," she was laying it on awfully thick, but sometimes you have to. She took a step closer to the man, looking up at him wishing she hadn't put on so much godawful makeup. "Men keep whistling at me, sir. I don't feel safe."

Charlotte wished she was better at words. The ring around her neck felt heavy, burdened with the memory of a million words she never knew the meaning to. That's why Clyde was such a good thief, he'd been interrogated by plenty of Peacekeepers but he could talk himself out of anything. What she'd give for his gift for language.

If he ever showed his face again she'd ask him for a lesson: Duping Peacekeepers 101.

[kap]

[googlefont="Questrial"][googlefont="Rock Salt"]

Xantiago Ozlimario

Letting this girl off the hook easily would obviously be a huge mistake for me to make, and I couldn't allow myself to do such a thing. She'd crafted up a rather convincing sob story, but from what I could tell, it was all a lie. I was rather good at reading people, most of the time, and this was certainly one of those times. She asked a favor of me, however, and the favor she asked for was something that a Peacekeeper shouldn't just say 'no' to. The young woman wanted to be escorted home, as, according to her, she didn't feel safe.

If someone said they didn't feel safe, whether it was a fib or not, I was to make sure that they started to feel the comfort of safety again if I was capable of giving it to them. That was part of my duty as a Peacekeeper, after all. I was supposed to take care of the people, make sure things stayed in order, and most of all, maintain the peace in District Six where I was stationed to do my work. Therefore, I listened to what she had to say to me.

"This boy at school, Mitchell Black, he asked me out on a date. He said to meet him here but..." she said to me, trailing off for a moment as a tear streamed down her cheek. Was it forced? Most likely, but I couldn't know for sure. I wasn't her, after all. For all I knew, maybe she wasn't lying, but it certainly seemed like she was to me. "He never showed." She told me this and I nodded in response. Then, she continued to speak to me.

"I kept waiting and then the sun went down and now I'm too afraid to walk by myself," she expressed. "Men keep whistling at me, sir. I don't feel safe."

I paused for a moment before responding to her again, however, as what she had said didn't quite sound right. If she was waiting until the sun went down, that would have meant that she was still standing in the dark for quite a long time. It was hard for me to genuinely believe that she'd been out here that long. On top of that, when she stepped closer to me, the smoke from her cigarette wasn't the only thing that I smelled on her breath. She'd had a bit of alcohol, too. I could tell, and drinking typically wasn't something that a young woman her age would normally do before a date with a boy from school.

Expressing that she was of school age certainly sent off warning signals in my brain. There was no way that she was meeting a boy here. A girl who had as much confidence in herself as this girl appeared to have when looking at the way she dressed and presented herself, as well as how well she seemed to be able to lie, didn't seem like a person who'd wait around in the dark for a boy who obviously wouldn't be showing up.

"Yes, I'll walk you home. Just lead the way, if you will." I said to her. "Although, I have a few questions for you, miss." I told her this, all the while trying to keep sounding as respectful as I possibly could. Soon, however, she'd likely discover that I knew she was lying if she hadn't already.

"Oh, and if you don't mind giving me your name, that would be appreciated. It'd be good to know what to call you by, miss."

I stopped speaking for a moment, then continuing on by asking her the first of the inquiries that I was going to send her way.

"You said you'd been waiting for Mr. Black during the daylight, and that you've been here since it got dark. That was several hours ago. What made you wait so long, out here in the dark? Surely you could have flagged down another Peacekeeper in the area to help you walk home, as they've been patrolling the area all night." I said this to her with a slight raise of the eyebrow. Then, I kept speaking.

"Also, if you don't mind me asking, do you have an umbrella or something else with you as a means of keeping dry? It was raining just about an hour ago, but it's been dark for several hours, so I'm curious as to how you kept dry out here during all of that." I gave her a slight smile. Surely she knew I was onto her at this point, despite the fact that I was keeping a polite and respectful tone to my voice. My manners were proper, but it's likely that she'd still managed to discover that I wasn't convinced by her fabrication of a lie.

---

796 words

SWANSKI

[sbeeg]

Charlotte Blair

See them out on the street at night (walkin')
Picking up on all kinds of strangers
If the price is right
You can't score if you're pocket's tight
But you want a good time

"Yes, I'll walk you home. Just lead the way, if you will. Although, I have a few questions for you, miss."

She stepped past him, narrowly avoiding smacking her shoulder into his crisp uniform. Maybe he would walk her all the way home and that'd be it. That'd certainly be convenient, but still left her pockets empty with the madam breathing down her neck. Jail or the streets, she'd seen both of them but they weren't exactly close friends. If she could avoid both she sure as hell was going to try.

"Oh, and if you don't mind giving me your name, that would be appreciated. It'd be good to know what to call you by, miss."

She started forward, leaving the safe halo of the streetlamp. Normally, Charlotte would be on alert, even the sinners weren't safe after dark. There's a comfort in being escorted by a Keeper.

But also the constant looming threat of public whipping or being shipped to the Detention Center to drool on a concrete wall for another six months.

"Jenny," Charlotte throws over her shoulder. Sounded like a safe name, like the name of a girl who was living a better life than herself.

"You said you'd been waiting for Mr. Black during the daylight, and that you've been here since it got dark. That was several hours ago. What made you wait so long, out here in the dark? Surely you could have flagged down another Peacekeeper in the area to help you walk home, as they've been patrolling the area all night."

Charlotte fell into step beside the Officer, opening painted lips to pass off some half baked lie about being too afraid to ask for help, or falling asleep- or something.

"Also, if you don't mind me asking, do you have an umbrella or something else with you as a means of keeping dry? It was raining just about an hour ago, but it's been dark for several hours, so I'm curious as to how you kept dry out here during all of that."

She turned a cautious glance at the man in time to see his lips yanked up into a smug yet polite smile.

Usually, Charlotte felt a since of fear around Peacekeepers. Remember Helmsby her mind echoed. Remember how good that fear felt. She shook the thought from her mind. They were predatory, often purchasing her services all the while dangling the threat of actually doing their jobs.

At that moment, all Charlotte felt was anger. This fucking guy knew exactly what she was doing and decided to string her along. He wasn't going to pay her and leave. She wasn't even sure he was going to let go home. If she was going to serve time or get a finger chopped off she'd like to know as soon as possible. Bring out the handcuffs, shove her against a wall. Let a girl know where she stands.

This man was just leading her along like a Capitol poodle on a leash. She pursed her lips, sucking at her teeth.

"Well, Office Ozlo was it?" she asked, eyes narrowing up at him. "Since you don't believe me, what do you think I was doing?"