Like a fox scurrying between burrows, the woman swept across the lecture hall, scribbling equations on a half-dozen chalkboards while rows of students struggled to keep up with her explanations. Her voice alternated between booming loud, echoing through the sloped hall, and barely audible whispers - forcing them to concentrate on her every word.
"...and that concludes today's lecture on Laplace transformations, which is also the last lecture for the Electrical Circuits Module. Please turn in your final assignments next week and-"
The school bell rang through the hall, and a hundred students got up at once.
"Just stay with me for a moment-" the woman's voice halted them in their tracks.
A male voice piped up from amongst them, "Ma'am, are you going to tell us the answers for our final exams?"
She paused for the scattered laughter to die off. Her eyes roved the hall; eager teenagers, the brightest that all of Panem had to offer. They waited upon her next words with bated anticipation.
"I've had the privilege of teaching freshmen classes for a few years now, but this...this is a special class to me. Most of you will be turning 19 this year, which is the first generation born in a world without the Hunger Games. I don't typically bring up politics since I'm an educator, but I hope that you'll cherish this freedom that was fought and paid for by others, and use your lives wisely, for the benefit of Panem."
The woman sighed and leaned beneath the table to retrieve her briefcase. Despite the hundreds of eyes fixed upon her, she still managed to disappear from the lecture hall unnoticed, leaving nothing but the sight of a reddish crop of hair fluttering behind a closing door, and dozens of electrical equations scrawled on the chalkboards for students to copy.
She found herself back in the office. In spite of her constant refusals and endless bickering, the faculty had managed to convince her to move into a humongous office, with floor-to-ceiling windows and a majestic, mahogany desk. Associate professors were never granted private offices, but they were certain that someone of her status would need one, rather than the cramped cubicle farm inhabited by doctoral students and adjunct lecturers. Deep down in her soul, she knew the reason why they gave this to her.
They'd hoped the wide-open spaces would help with her episodes where she'd be found in a shivering mess beneath the tables. At the start, her panic attacks were so bad that she'd pass out in front of her students. But over the years, it evolved into running at random times, then hiding in random places. Until she'd learnt to hold onto the nearest fixed object until the dreadful feeling ebbed away. Like everything else in her life, learning this was just another means to survive.
Drawn to the glow of the setting sun, she looked upon the campus garden, dotted with students making their way home. The university was built in a circle, like a walled city within the Capitol. A place where she could wall herself away from the rest of Panem and devote her energies towards science and passing knowledge onto the future generations. Beyond the campus walls, lay the gleaming glass-and-metal skyscrapers of the Capitol. Its newfound purpose as the political and economic centre of Panem had called out to her incessantly, but she resisted the urge to interfere as much as she could, with the petty politics of a new generation.
The woman sighed and pondered what to do with the remaining hours of her day. Without any inquisitive students knocking on her door, or Ph.D. candidates to supervise; she tossed her lab coat on the chair, and left work at 5pm on a friday, for the first time in a long while.
A scarf concealed her face as she trudged through the streets to a nearby pub - an old establishment that used to cater to Avoxes, now frequented by Academics and the Capitol working class. It was an odd mix of old-school charm and an edgy grit that defined the new Panem. Nobody recognised her as she walked in, but the bartender made out her sleek red hair at the door and poured a glass of Chardonnay. She laid out a dollar bill, only for him to shove it back at her.
"Told'cha a million times, miss, I'm having none of that," he muttered under his breath, "this glass of wine is for Panem."
Shrugging, she kicked back at a booth in the corner with her wine, watching the news on an enormous flat-screen TV.
"...In other news, District 6 protestors clashed with riot police for a second straight day as rising fuel prices put a damper on new year celebrations-"
A burly patron yelled from across the pub, "Thaddeus! Change the goddamned channel!"
The bartender switched the programming to another news channel, where Enobaria, with her glittering fangs, was fiercely debating a senator.
"...regardless of how many times we've told the House in the past, the Elder Council will not intervene in this issue. As leader of the council, it is my duty to direct the discussion towards achieving an amicable soluti-"
The same patron groaned again, "No, no, not this one, put the fucking game on!"
Thaddeus fiddled with the remote until a football match appeared on-screen.
"Three minutes left into the 2nd quarter as District rivals 2 and 11 battle it out-"
A bell strung to the pub's front door tinkled, and the woman leaped to her feet as Gase sauntered in. Surprise was evident on the brunette's face, and she didn't stop an arm's length away this time. Instead, Gase walked right into her, planting a kiss on her face as they curled up at the booth.
"You're early today," Gase said, ruffling a hand through the woman's hair like she was 12 again.
"Oh my god, Gase, I missed you so much," she said, sinking herself into Gase's arms, "please don't leave me alone in this goddamned city again."
"Those new power plants aren't going to commission themselves," Gase answered, pressing her face into the woman's hair, and inhaling the scent of leather and old books. The sheer fragrance of wisdom that permeated every pore on the redhead.
The two women curled up in the booth couldn't have presented a more striking contrast: Gase - in canvas overalls, and her friend in a dark suit and reading glasses. For the most part, they represented the marriage of Panem's new intelligentsia and the working class. Two social classes long-suppressed under Snow - now united in their quest for a greater Panem.
The woman looked up into Gase's eyes, watchful to ensure she didn't lapse into one of her moments where she'd bunch up her fists and stare into the distance, afraid to enter rooms with a single way out. Terrified of men in white uniforms and faceless helmets. There wasn't anything else that could save Gase apart from the girl's ever-present embrace, her soothing presence as she reassured her that it's ok to be afraid.
Slowly, but surely, the hard shell of Gase's tumultuous personality had melted. The fiery heat of their romance had faded into a coolness over the years. Like a breeze on a warm summer day, or the first snow of Christmas morning. If anything, the constant absences and separations as they busied themselves with their new roles in Panem, served to draw them closer together.
It wasn't easy. Being two battered, broken souls, searching for a purpose in a world they'd turned on its head.
It wasn't easy. Learning to let go of the guilt of the lives she couldn't save, and to heal from the lives she could.
Eventually, the persistent blood stains she saw on her hands, faded away with the knowledge that she'd made Panem a better place. It took a while, and it wasn't easy.
But of course, nothing ever came easy for her.
A/N: And there goes my second rendition of Foxface! Thanks to everyone for reading, though there weren't many of you, and a special shoutout to BamItsTyler and gkmoberg1 for the lovely reviews as always
It was always my intention to create a darker, more mature version of this character, as well as to answer the question: "Could another character have done Catching Fire/Mockingjay better than Katniss?". When the prospect of putting Panem in the hands of a Victor emerged, there really was only one option.
Once again, I've fallen in love with this cunning, beautiful, fleet-footed red-haired girl, and I can only hope that I've done this fictional character enough justice.