Hey. So I know I was going to go to a new District but I was thinking that I want to go back to the Capitol; this time to meet another member of the illustrious Snow family! I love my new character, Miss Rosalinde Snow…but let me know your thoughts. This is an important chapter though regarding things destined for this story's future :)

So on with the show…

Rosalinde Snow, Capitol Citizen.

My name is Rosalinde Snow, the daughter of Coriolanus Snow; beloved by the Capitol, envied by every woman and desired by every man. In some respects, I have the 'perfect' life: I have a wardrobe bursting with the finest clothes; I have anything I could ever want for at my finger tips; but to me this isn't my definition of perfect at all. I am not all happy; I am nothing but a trapped songbird with the glittering Capitol being my cage, gilded with precious stones but a cage nonetheless and my song is to spout my father's twisted ideologies. But I cannot be the pleasant, simpering daughter of Panem's President; because I don't believe a single word that slips from between his grotesquely enhanced lips, a single idea that forms in his sickened mind. I cannot afford to continue living in a world which sanctions something like the Hunger Games; I don't buy into the bullshit that they are the: 'light that prevents the return of the Dark Days.'

You see I have grown wise as to my father's malevolent ways, he doesn't even see me as his child; I was not born out of love or even genuine desire to father a child. I was born as a pawn in his political game, a token which shows him in a positive light for his adoring subjects throughout the Capitol. Without me my father was simply President of Panem, but since my birth he became not only President but also a loving, family man: What a joke! I am a living, breathing doll capable of following his orders; for that it what brings me here today, why my 5 inch stilettos grace the marble flooring which acts a platform to which trains arrive here in the Capitol; to welcome the tributes of the 62nd Hunger Games and to maintain the 'presidential presence'. I think it's simply detestable; these children have families, they could be brothers; sisters; sons; daughters and they are forced into a brutal game where prize is their life but in order to win 23 others must fall, it makes my skin crawl: this testament to the Neanderthal like tendencies which plague even the most modern models of humanity.

I look down at my beautiful daughter; the one person who keeps me sane in an insane world, the reason I'm entering a battle which will most likely be more bloody than any Hunger Games my father's most loyal Gamemaker's could ever create. A battle fought in the streets, behind closed doors; a battle of the mind alongside raw, physical strength. A battle for hope, for freedom and for a better future. Having a child, and more importantly loving that child really changes your perspective of the world; the rose coloured spectacles disappear and you see the true state of the world, a mirror is thrown up for you to see every flaw, every bit of danger. I look at my beloved daughter, Blossom and I despair as I see a shadow growing over her; the shadow which says she is growing up in a sordid world where she will never be able to make her own choices and this is frighteningly true.

Like myself, my daughter is being forced into a life that will benefit my father, she has had the role of 'Panem's Angel' forced onto her since her birth, literally. Against my greatest wishes my daughter at only 3 years of age has undergone an alarming number of cosmetic alterations which are fashionable throughout the Capitol. Her once blonde hair that glistened the colour of honey, like my own, has been bleached a startling shade of platinum white much like my father's; each strand altered genetically so the proteins maintain the garish colour. Full sized angel wings have been surgically attached to her shoulder blades; each nail has been replaced with diamond fittings, every tooth bleached to give her a dazzling white smile and then glitter permanently etched into her eyelids. This girl hardly looks like the baby I gave birth to, none of it was her choice and it is all just disturbing. This is why I am fighting; for a brighter future for Blossom, a future in a world where she chooses her own destiny.

Blossom, being only 3 years of age is more than happy to be the 'Angel' that everyone expects: to be the loving granddaughter, to smile at the camera's, to tell anyone who'll listen about how she is 'Granddaddy's little princess' and about all the nice things that twisted man does for her, for me, for us. But soon it will all change; he will condition her into becoming one of the mindless drones who live here in the Capitol, stealing her individuality; squishing her creativity and encouraging her to voice his unjust and bigoted beliefs. He will try and transform her into a puppet, and all I say to that is: 'Over my dead body'. My father tried something similar with me, to try and crush my personality; try and make me a robot with a pulse, ready to act on his every whim but it didn't work. For what I lack in having not inherited my father's brutal nature, his warped ideologies; he has handed me every weapon I'll need in my pursuit of freedom. I have him to thank for my vast intelligence, my ability to manipulate even the strongest of characters and my understanding of the political web of deceit and betrayal which constitutes the powers that be here in the Capitol. He made me acknowledge the importance of having the right people to stand beside you, the right people to exploit and the right people to have in high places; he has made me see that for any of my plans to come to fruition, I need to have certain people alongside me. People with distinct political clout within the districts: The mentors themselves, the survivors of my father's sick games.

'Mama, when people coming today?' My daughter's tinkling voice brings me back to reality, to see the crowds that have gathered to see the lambs brought forward for slaughter; cheering like deranged vultures stalking their prey. I curl my lip in disgust at their primitive behaviour; people like this are the supposed rulers of society. In her pink dress, made from layers of chiffon she seems excited, as if she is being pulled into the waves of excitement radiating from the people gathered; my daughter will never become a vulture like these drones.

'Blossom, they'll be here soon enough; remember it's a long journey for them, and don't get too excitable. Now Mommy has to go and talk to some people when the trains arrive so you'll be staying here with Artaud.' My daughter nods her head in understanding, trying to appear relaxed but I can still sense her excitement and I turn to my avox, Artaud is the most loyal follower of mine regarding my vision for a better future and what he lacks in his inability to speak; he more than makes up for in cooking up schemes and listening to others conversations. He nods in understanding, he wrote me a list of all the mentors I should try and contact: Sheen, Mags, Beetee, Mags, Lordaina, Blight, Cecelia, Woof, Pepper, Austin, Chaff, Seeder and Haymitch. Then I'm having him keep an eye open regarding people within the Capitol who may be willing to help; so far I have established contact with a junior Gamemaker by the name of Plutarch.

Blossom turns to Artaud and starts blabbing away as the first of today's arrivals rolls in; the sleek and aerodynamically streamed silver trains rolls into the platform; I move forwards as do the vultures, preparing to circle their prey most likely but unlike them I face no resistance when I approach. Rather than stopping me, the Peacekeepers who are meant to prevent Capitol citizens from trying to get near the trains holding the tributes forge me a pathway; respectfully saluting me as I pass them. Thanks Dad, you make my job so much easier.

I turn and wave at those behind me, smiling lazily as the cameras flash as they do wherever I go. I can imagine the headlines now: 'President's Daughter Meets Tributes: Capitol Charity at it's Best!' what a joke, if only they knew that the following hours will result in headlines such as 'Snow Dethroned: Power Changes Hands'. For that is what must happen; it may be appalling for me as his daughter to be plotting his downfall, but I have my own daughter's future to worry about; if we lived in the District's she would one day face being reaped and that is what has forced me into action. Power has gone to father's head, no longer is he concerned with the welfare of Panem and its residents. All he wants is to accumulate more power and strengthen his tyrannical grip over everyone: stealing their freedom.

At my father's hands Panem has become stuck in a rut, trapped in a stupor; but the time has come for Panem to move forwards once more, the time for change is upon us but for such things to happen: Panem as we know it must cease to exist. For Panem to ever change we must await the return of the 'Dark Days' and for anarchy to rule as we enter a state of rebellion; I know that it is a great risk but any form of self preservation I once held has vanished. I must be among those willing to pave a path that leads to a better life for my daughter and all of the future generations; and if I must kill or be killed in such a pursuit, so be it.

Whhooooooo… Another chapter down, so now let me know you thoughts and remember to keep submitting to myself and AvenRose! Oh, once all the districts have been introduced people can vote for their favourite characters: if someone is a favourite with the readers, well I can only assume that they would be favourites amongst the Capitol: they would get sponsored wouldn't they? ;)

Review Time!

Loves xxxx