VII. Intuition

No, not gonna die tonight
We're gonna stand and fight forever
(Don't close your eyes)
No, not gonna die tonight
We're gonna fight for us together
No, we're not gonna die tonight

Simeon Coello. 18.
District Ten Male.
TW: Gun violence, mention of rape

He knew he shouldn't have let Dinah go out that night.

It's a bone-chilling night in a town so small it doesn't even show up on the map and Simeon Coello's pacing the family tent side to side, increasingly growing worried and muttering, "Where is she?" under his breath as the skies get darker and darker.

"It's fine, Simeon," His brother Levi sits on the ground, legs crossed, "She'll come home eventually, she always does."

But he can tell this time's different. Ever since the Coellos decided to settle down at this place where the only indication of where they are's a sign that read "Tolesia," Dinah's been acting… well different to say the least. She's aways been quiet, ever since Simeon was born she's been the clear outcast wherever they went, but that doesn't mean he doesn't love her any less. In fact, of his four siblings, she's without a doubt his favorite. Yet… she's out at a bar, and it's the third time in a row that this has happened, which is odd because Dinah's never liked going out and being in crowds, but it's been three consecutive days now where she's stood at the exit of their camp with a grin on her face as the sun set, saying, "I'm going to go out and try and find some friends."

Despite the fact she's older than him, Simeon's always felt the urge to protect her, since well… the Coello family always sticks together, it's a natural… has been Simeon's whole life. Because he's never known stability, just moving from place to place with little explanation because to quote his father Yakov, "Our family drama's always following us." He doesn't quite know what this father means, but Simeon does know it's important the six of them stay together no matter what the cost is, because well… they're the only consistency that Simeon's ever had. Even through all the ups and downs, the starvation and the coldness, he's had his family, and that's basically all he needs.

Ten more minutes pass and still no Dinah, Simeon's steps getting louder, "Seriously, where the fuck is she?"

He wishes that Dinah had just allowed him to join her when Simeon asked, because… shit, what if she's in danger and it's now his fault for not insisting hard enough, what if Dinah's beaten dead by some drunkard and Simeon wasn't there to protect her? No… no… she's probably fine, He attempts to soothe himself, She's eighteen years old, she can do things on her own… I don't need to be her protector, she can fend for herself…

Simeon's mother Leah's resting on a cot, her eyes closed which doesn't really change much since she's losing her vision anyways, and she's the only one in the family who seems to match his fear, "Do any of you boys want to go on and check on her?"

Judah, the youngest of the Coello clan stands up tall, "I'll go find her," though he's quickly dejected by the eldest brother Reuben—

"We don't know what bar she went to," He says, his voice all stern like he's the actual father of the house, "She could be anywhere, for all I know."

She could be anywhere… but she's not here, and that's what matters… Simeon begins lacing his shoes, "I'm going after her." He's got not even the faintest of clues regarding where in the town she is, but if he looks hard enough, he's bound to find Dinah eventually, that's just logic, right?

"Did you not just hear me?" Reuben rolls his eyes and places a hand on Simeon's shoulder, "There's no way of knowing where she is. She's going to come home, it's going to be fine."

"—It'll be easier if we split up," Simeon snaps, though he's trying not to let himself get too angry because, Dinah could be fine! She could be fine!

But he doesn't get to hear whatever shitty rebuttal Reuben's about to make because instead there's tiptoes… familiar tiptoes followed by the sound of sobs, followed by Dinah stepping into the tent… or at least someone who resembles Dinah, because this girl's eyes are bruised and swollen and her hairs all matted and ratted and the simple white dress she wore's got holes in it.

Immediately, Simeon runs up to her, his voice sharp, "What happened to you?"

The rest of the family follows, huddling around Dinah and inspecting the marks on her body, the fact she looks undeniably and certifiably like well… a mess, not the girl she was when she went out to the bar… Shit… I should've known not to let her go… I should've known this town was sketchy— no! I can't protect her… I wish I could've protected her.

She doesn't respond, instead just leaning over on Simeon's shoulder as she chokes on her tears, Simeon's eyes watering too just out of instinct. He lowers Dinah onto a stool close to the ground and whispers, "It's okay… you can tell us later if you want."

Though admittedly Simeon's hoping that Dinah speaks now because well… if somebody did this to her, they're going to pay for it… hell even if some wild boar did it, it means the Coello family's about to have bacon for breakfast.

"No, no… I'll talk," Dinah sighs, her tone the most somber it's ever been, "Somebody… well… to be fair we were both drunk…"

Did… no, no, it can't be, Simeon doesn't want it, he takes a deep breath, "Go on, if you want. Whatever happened, I promise it wasn't your fault."

"We were dancing… and well he must've put something in my drink," As she speaks, Simeon feels the nerves in his head beginning to pop, "Because… I just blacked out and then the next thing I knew we were both in one of the bar's bathrooms."

...Yeah, okay, Simeon's worst nightmare besides Dinah getting killed had happened, "Did he… I don't know how to say this—"

"Yes, he touched me," Dinah breaks again, her head in her hands as she falls over on to Simeon once more, "Really… it's my fault, I should've been more careful."

Please, as if this could ever be her fault. Simeon's face grows warm as the rest of the family asks questions, and well it's just so clear that Dinah's grown overwhelmed by them all because she looks so frustrated, looks so just… lost, and that's why he decides to speak up once more, "Where were you, and what did he look like?"

Not knowing where this is going, Dinah shakes her head, "Just that bar called the Dulce, you know… the one a block or so from here," Her skin's lost color from the tears she's shed, "And I don't… I don't remember what he looked like."

That's all Simeon needs to hear to spring out of his spot on the ground and go rummaging in his father's bag, Dinah calling out, "What are you doing?"

Through bated breaths, Simon mutters, "I'm making sure they regret what they did to you," as he pushes past layers and layers of clothing until he finds it, Yakov's hunting riffle and a round of bullets, the weapon covered in wood and shining in the candlelight, "Wait— no, put that away."

Yakov repeats her, "Simeon, please… come back," but it's clear there's no deterring him.

Levi follows him, "I'll come with him," and looks Dinah in the eyes, "It's going to be okay, we'll make sure of it."

The walk between the camp and the bar is a blur, Simeon too high on rage to pay attention to where he's going because there's only one thing on his mind and that's ensuring that whoever did this to Dinah fucking pays for it… Nobody should just… be able to power over a person like this, no matter who the fuck they think they are. And they certainly shouldn't do this to Dinah… sweet and innocent Dinah.

"What's the plan?" Levi asks as they walk, "I assume you don't have one?"

"Actually, I do somewhat," Simeon nods, "We go in there and we demand an explanation, and if not… well," He gestures at the gun, not that he thinks he's actually going to use it, "But hopefully that won't happen." He doesn't think he's going to have to actually kill somebody, but the rifles a nice way to intimidate them. If he has to though… well…

Once they arrive at The Dulce, Simeon pushes through the doors so hard they're practically flying, everyone staring at him as he stomps in the direction of the bar, his fist pounding on the counter with rage, "What happened to her?"

With a confused look on his face, the bartender answers, "What happened to who?"

Simeon rolls his eyes, "Our sister. She came home and said that somebody at this bar assaulted her," and then he pans his vision around the room, "Which one of you asswipes did it."

"We just want to talk," Levi tries to reason with the people of the bar though it's clear that's not his objective either.

"Go away babies," Some middle-aged drunkard yells from the corner of the room, "We don't know what happened to your sister or whatever the hell you want."

Simeon's still not having it, "I said… which one of you is responsible for fucking raping her," the weight of the word bares heavy on his tongue, "Which one of you was it, huh?"

Still, nobody replies, instead more insults being tossed in their direction which just leads to screaming, just leads to Simeon yelling so loud, "Which one of you?" that his throat's beginning to sting.

Why won't these assholes take this seriously? Huh? Do they think this is funny? Are they just fucking around because I'm some kid… though he's grown up fast enough that seventeen years of his life felt more like twenty-five, "I'm going to give you thirty seconds," Simeon scoffs.

"Or else what?" Calls a voice, and that's what leads to the most changing three minutes of Simeon Coello's entire life.

He whispers to Levi, "Get under a table," his brother obliging immediately as Simeon reaches down under his belt to unhook the rifle. It's heavy in his hands, but it's what Simeon knows he has to do if he wants to get justice for Dinah, it's the only thing he can do.

He closes his eyes before he fires the first bullet, screams of hysteria roaring immediately, shit… Simeon wishes he could feel any semblance of regret but it's what these fuckers deserved for being just… so complicit in all of this, so… he fucking hates bystanders during times like these.

Simeon's eyes open to a man with a bullet in his head drenched in his own blood, and while it's a scarring though, it doesn't do much to prevent Simeon from firing again, and then again— and then again and again and again as more and more bodies drop, more and more people who were complicit or worse involved in Dinah's assault gone from the world like they should be, since they're just… they're scum and they shouldn't be here.

Shouldn't be here just like the bartender who's neck is lodged with a bullet, his throat colored crimson when he falls, and Simeon's yelling the whole time, "This is what you get for doing this to her," as more and more bodies fall while screams fill his ears as people try to leave the bar unscathed.

The riffle makes a soft click, he's out of bullets. But that doesn't matter because the bar's now empty save for Levi who pokes his head out from under the table with a half-smile, "Now, what exactly just happened?"

Simeon doesn't know the recent past, but he knows the near future. As they leave the bar which smells of death and blood, there's just one thought on his mind, We need to get the fuck out of this town. Nowhere's safe for Simeon now.

When all is said and done
You need to tie your tongue
'Cause when you spit on everyone
You are, you are, you know you're asking for it, asking for it
Asking.

Malin Mardari. 17.
District Six Tribute.
TW: Non-explicit description of torture.

Well… they sure as hell fucked up this time!

It should've been an easy hustle, a quick in-and-out of the nearly-abandoned warehouse where Malin knew there'd be some good loot, enough to sell and keep them and Orsino afloat for a few weeks at least. Seemed like light work, nothing unusual for the two of 'em, but then again… wasn't like they were expecting to catch a glimpse of one of The Marquis' submissive asswipes on their way into one of the rooms.

"You think it's Javelin?" Mal remembered asking him, in hindsight probably too loudly.

He had replied with a simple, "Definitely not."

At the time, Malin deemed it right to believe him. T'wasn't like members of the Black Hand could be everywhere at once, right? Besides, those sellouts usually stayed closer to the base in midtown anyways.

And so, with a raggedy bag slumped over his shoulder and a half-smirk on their face, Malin Mardari snuck into the chamber, blissfully unaware of the fact they were about to get majorly fucked over.

They regret ignoring the mumbling they heard around them, but then again, wasn't much they could do about it now, not that Mal had the slightest bit of plans on being graceful with the whole "punishment" thing.

Because they didn't think that they were going to get caught. It's been a year since they escaped the thieves guild with Orsino and they'd been so wonderfully lucky, evading their reach through scheme after scheme, heist after heist. It seems like wherever the two of them went, fate's on their side, and fate says, "I'm so proud of you bastards for surviving this long."

Turns out, fate's just like Malin's parents and has oh-so rudely decided, "Dealing with this kid has been fun for the past year, but actually it hasn't so fuck you, I'm out of this bitch."

Eh… Mal should've never trusted it in the first place, dumb on their part. Almost as dumb as the little bitch-moan they had accidentally let escape their mouth when the Professional Capitol Cock-suckers, er… Peacekeepers, burst into the room and whined, "Get on the floor!"

And of course, of course, Javelin was there too and with a sledgehammer to Orsino's kneecaps, the boy fell to the ground screams piercing Mal's ears immediately.

The following five minutes were a bit of a blur, but the one thing Malin remembers is that they certainly were not a pussy which means they did their damn best to fight back, which in hindsight only made everything worse. They fiddle with their own handcuffs behind the chair of the interrogation room they'd been dragged off to alongside Orsino who looked just as miffed as they did.

"Guess it was Javelin," He'd said under his breath whilst they were dragged across the groud, not that it fucking matters anymore, whatver fucking snake that ratted us out, bastard.

T'was the last thing Orsino said to them before they were separated for "interrogation."

But… Mal's not about to be one of those snitches who gets stitches, and that's clear when the officer tries to get them to start calling. Sure, sure, Malin Mardari's an incorrigible little slut who'd be apt to living on a throne of trashbags in the middle of the sewer, but they're a loyal one at that, and they're smart enough to know that if they call out the Black Hand or any of those fuckers… they might as well just bang their head against the wall since they're good as dead anyways.

The first thing the Peacekeeper asks Mal is, "Do you know what was in that warehouse?"

"What warehouse?" They smirk with a sense of self-satisfaction, "Oh, you mean the place you arrested me at?"

"Yes," The Peacekeeper's clearly unamused but that doesn't mean Mal's going to do the whole "respect authority" thing.

"Damn, well I hate to break it to you," Malin begins to yawn, a slight giggle at themself following, "But the only reason I was there was well, to put it simply, I wanted the good dick. You know Orsino? Well, he's not an exhibitionist––"

"You're about to lose your tongue if you don't control it," He threatens them as if he has any fucking merit to do such a thing. Besides, even if he did cut out their tongue, Mal would figure out a way to keep talking.

"Fine, fine," They lean back in their chair and giggle, "What'cha wanna know?"

Obviously, Malin doesn't answer any of the questions that are thrust towards them. As far as they're concerned, they ain't a snitch which means there's no way in hell, they're talking about the Black Hand and The Marquis (word of advice, don't trust a bitch who refers to himself as "The Marquis") to these sausage-suckers, even if it means they'll be allowed to get out of this damn holding room. Why? It's simple, Malin Mardari's already basically dead to them, what's stopping them from ensuring they're actually dead. Not that they're actually capable of dying since much like a cockroach, they'll always find a way to rise up again.

"I want to know what you were doing in that warehouse," The officer remarks, his brows squinting to the extent that Mal's pretty fucking sure he's about to form wrinkles, "And if you don't tell me in the next five minutes, I'll make you."

"You'll make me?" Malin scoffs, their feet twisting together under their seat, because again, there's nothing they can do that'll get them to tell them the truth about the Black Hand, "You'll tell me what a bad little thief I am before stringing me up to a whipping post and punishing me to the full extent of the law? Because, I'm not going to lie… I'm sort of into that." They know how fucking obnoxious they're being, but does Malin care? Of course they don't! They gave up on caring the day they left the guild afterall, ever since the Incident.

Because honestly, it's been fun as fuck without the guild up their ass, just running reckless on the streets of Six alongside Orsino without a care in the world of what's going to happen to either of them as long as they have eachother, even though that's wildly toxic considering the few years where Orsino all but wanted Mal dead because he was jealous and well… that's valid but also it's not my fault that not everybody is as hot and as masterful as I am. Seriously, Malin had no idea they'd enter the guild with "the best set of sticky fingers" The Marquis had ever seen, propelling them to go on to higher profile jobs pretty soon after they started working.

There's good memories between the two of them though. Getting drunk off their asses the day they finally said "fuck it" and ran away after making off with the Duke's chest, stealing the purse of some rich bitch on the sidewalk, forming inside jokes about that girl they saw stuff a human corpse into a suit case, Malin and Orsino really experienced everything together. And combined with the fact that, well… he had a really nice ass that made up for his usually shitty personality made for some pretty intimate experiences. Fuck it, Orsino's nice ass and nice–– everything else made for the pinnacle of horny teenage pleasure, scratches down backs and teeth on flesh, they'd try anything once, and the more it hurt, the better it felt to Malin.

"That's it, I've had enough," The Peacekeeper sighs and grabs across the table onto Mal's chair, "You're coming with me, buddy."

Since when am I your buddy? I didn't know it was polite for someone to threaten to cut out their buddy's tongue. If I'd known that, I'd have cut Orsino's out months ago, They think as they're dragged into yet another dim-lit room, not really knowing what's going to happen to them. One thing they want to know though is, where the actual fuck is Orsino anyways? Malin assumes he's just as unwilling to talk about the guild as they are, so they're confused as to why Orsino's not in the same room about to get… probably tortured, and that would be so romantic of us too, getting whipped by the government as we're told to divulge our secrets in harmony.

As the Peacekeeper predictably handcuffs Mal to a steel post, they ask, "Do you know where my partner is?" not knowing whether to call Orsino their friend or their boyfriend or whatever the fuck the two of them are these days.

"Why would I tell you?" He cackles at Malin, walking over to the side of the room to dig in a cabinet containing lord-knows-what, "Now will you please just cut it out?"

Malin doesn't have time to say "No" before they feel a whip to their back, the Peacekeeper striking down upon them like a predator hunting prey… And it hurts, which Mal likes and they hate that they like but… regardless they do and it's taking every last nerve of theirs not to moan at the officer…

Maybe I should though, maybe that'll make him start… make him think "Damn, this Mardari kid's a fucking mess, and a horny one at that, I'm done torturing them," But that's not how Peacekeepers think now is it? Instead, he just wants power over Malin, just wants to make them feel so useless that they crack under the pressure and tell him everything he needs to know, but that's not fucking happening.

And at one point it hurts so much, Mal's not even aroused by it, just wildly annoyed and definitely at the breaking point where they don't think they'll be able to walk again, not stand up straight (or rather, stand up gay) for a week because shit… it hurts so much. Yet Mallin won't tell him shit, even when knives are down their back and they can hear drops of their own blood on the floor, they're not letting a peep out of their mouth regarding the Black Hand, even if it's the only thing that could prove their innocence, the only information that could set them free…

On the third day of the officer's abuse, Malin's mind wanders to Orsino, knowing he's experiencing the same torture, the same maggots tearing through their flesh only to be exterminated before they damage too many nerves, and all they can do is hope he's just as hellbent on not telling them what's happening, not exposing the Black Hand even if it means innocence, because they have to get tired of torturing us eventually, and when that happens, surely they'll just let us go, right?

But even then, Malin won't spill, they won't reveal the guild's secrets because that means death, that means even more suffering.

Four days go by and Mal hasn't consumed anything but a few glasses of water, and they've winced through the pain of their skin torn from their body yet they don't say a thing. They're loyal even if it's killing them. They're loyal even if Orsino sure as hell isn't.

Because eventually, the Peacekeeper stops and says, "Your friend told us everything Mardari. We know you're involved in the thieves guild and you tried to lure him in. You can stop lying now."

"That's not what happened," Malin tries to yell as they're dragged away from the torture chamber and placed on a bed, "Hell, Orsino…" They can't say it, can't say he's also involved with the Black Hand because they know it'll get him killed, and as much as he deserves it, Mal doesn't want to be the indirect cause of his death.

"Open your mouth," The Peacekeeper's got scissors in his hands and for the first time, Malin Mardari doesn't feel invincible, "I'm shutting you up once and for all."

"I'm sure you could make me shut up, but fair warning, I might moan a little," Yet blades cut through their tongue and Mal's left wondering why they ever trusted Orsino in the first place.

Not Gonna Die, Skillet / Asking For It, Shinedown

Alrighty, that's another set of intros done and dusted, this time featuring our two Outer District volunteers Mr. Simeon Coello and Mx. Malin Mardari courtesy of Joseph and Haiden respectively. I'd love to know what you think of these two wild children. As you've noticed, I didn't exactly reveal why either of them volunteered, but some hints are there if you pay a bit of attention, still if you didn't catch it, I can't blame you.

I'll see you next week with more children!

Fuck this shit, I'm out,
Linds