queenie elvirum is not 'your girl'

[✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ]

professor queenie elvirum
zoologist with a focus on ornithology/geneticist
always workin on a lil somethin somethin
has science gone too far? never.
thirty-two

kids? no thanks, my animals are my babies
(future great-grandmama to one(1) Kingsley)

[✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ]

q u e e n i e .

"what's a
king
to a
god?"

She couldn't have given less of a shit about the hunger games.

Oh no, don't get her wrong, like any good Capitolite she knew why it was necessary. After all, she had lived through the years of food shortage, had slept through bombings and had even found herself trapped under rubble a few times. The Districts deserved what they got, every little bit of it, blah blah blah. She just didn't feel the need to witness it.

And what person in their right mind really wants to watch children kill each other?

She'd been pregnant once but that had been years ago, in the midst of the dark days and that had been no time to raise a child. She still felt the emptiness within her, that strange feeling that had come after the loss. It'd lingered so long after it'd just become part of her.

She was far too busy with her babies anyway. During the worst of the bombings, she'd holed up in her lab at the zoo and protected them. The animals had always needed a loving touch and Queenie was excellent at caring for them, just as much as she experimented on them. Let's just say she'd never had to wonder what wings might look like on a wild boar if you know what I mean.

After the war, she'd never felt the need to stop testing animals and no one was there to stop her. No one cared about the zoo anymore, not since it'd been ransacked for food years back. It was a good thing she and some others has stuffed as many of the animals as they could in the underground bunkers, out of the hungry Capitolite's reach. The lack of access to sunlight, the strange conditions underground with the constant sound of bombs dropping above, had made for some interesting personalities to emerge.

Queenie had been fascinated in the aggressive behaviour that once docile animals developed below ground in a strange habitat.

Money had never stopped coming in from the government to research gene splicing, even after the end of the war. Queenie didn't remind them that they'd been forgotten, she'd just kept on working. There were others in her field after all, other thesis pieces and articles to work off of.

Even failures proved useful, no matter how short-lived the poor creature was, the data was important.

If you asked her just when it was that she'd become so distant to the sound of a crying animal, she couldn't tell you.

All crying stops eventually anyway.