Sagan Pomare, 15
District Three Female, she/her
Some days, the screaming never seemed to stop.
Sagan Pomare was eight, and this was the only life she'd ever known. She'd learned by now that there were good days and bad days, and she could already tell that this was one such bad day. The day before had also been bad. And the one before that. Sagan kept track of these things. She'd always hoped to find a pattern, something to rely on, but that never happened. That was okay. She would find a way to make it work.
Awakened by her mother's screams, Sagan tiptoed into the kitchen and paused in the doorway. Her older sister, Mira, was standing in front of their mother, spine stiff and hands clenched at her sides. Her mother had burst into tears long before now, judging by the stream of tears running down her face, and her voice was hoarse from screeching.
Tilting her head to the side, Sagan listened curiously. Mira had her lips tightly shut, knowing that on their mother's bad days it was best to leave her alone. Provoking her would only end in more screaming.
"Where is he?" her mother accused, voice reaching dangerously loud levels. "I know you took him from me! And now you're going to leave me too!"
The screaming devolved until it was completely nonsensical; Sagan's mother collapsed on the floor, letting go of Mira. In turn, Mira scrambled towards where Ansel was, the two interlocking hands as if that could save them from their mother's antics. It never did, but Sagan supposed that the support was all they were truly looking for.
She glanced between her older siblings and her mother, worrying at her lip before sinking to the floor in front of her mother. If they weren't willing to help, then she was. Even though this wasn't one of her mother's good days, even though Sagan risked her mother lashing out while she was in this volatile state, she had to help. Their father was gone, and the days since his disappearance had been long and hard, but Sagan would do everything in her power to keep this household together.
She had to.
(Behind her, Mira and Ansel exchanged a look. They could only watch as Sagan suffocated their mother with attention and affection, as if that could ever truly fix anything. They were old enough to know by now that nothing would ever change. This was the only life they'd ever known, and it was the only life they'd ever know unless they were able to find a way out.)
(And so they turned their backs. It was the only thing they could do for now.)
Nine weeks passed, during which the entire household moved about in a daze. Their mother finally began to have good days again. When those happened, Sagan reveled in her mother's affection, relishing in the feeling of being loved. She didn't particularly care that this kind of affection was usually hard-won. It still mattered. It was important to her.
Her siblings, on the other hand, were beginning to resent their mother's attitude and frequent changes in mood. Sagan could see it written across their features, and that only made her determination to take care of their mother grow.
"Do these look good?" Sagan asked, offering up a bag of apples for her brother to inspect.
Ansel held the bag up in front of his eyes, only giving it a glance before shaking his head. "The ones at the bottom are covered in bruises. Can you grab another?"
She merely nodded before looking at the stream of people in the marketplace and carefully maneuvering around them. Though she did her best not to get lost in the crowd, someone nearly ran her over before placing their hands on her shoulders to steady her.
"Sorry about that!" he said.
"It's ok-" Sagan started before trailing off, staring up at the face of the father she hadn't seen in two months.
To his credit - not that she gave him much - he at least recognized her and looked properly ashamed. He snatched his hands back, realized how that looked, then let them hang limply at his sides.
Sagan just stared, waiting to hear whatever explanation he had for himself. She tried to search for something of her own to say - perhaps some taunting words about how he left them and they were better off without him - but nothing rang true in her mind. She just balled her hands into fists and tried not to explode.
"Ah, you're here with your siblings," he said, directing his attention to Mira and Ansel, who flanked Sagan. He didn't appear to be intimidated, instead flashing them all an awkward grin. "Good to see you, huh?"
"You disappeared," Mira said flatly, willing to take the lead as the oldest. "Is that really all you have to say?"
"Yeah, what the fuck? You left us all alone with Mom of all people. You know she can hardly take care of herself on a good day." Ansel was always quick to lash out, quick to make his feelings known. Sagan could feel him trembling beside her, but she stayed still.
Open your mouth, she thought to herself. Surely you have something to say too.
And she did. Sagan had plenty to say. But now, when she felt she needed words the most, she came up empty handed.
"Oh, that," he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm sorry for how all of this has gone down. You know your mother and I haven't always seen eye to eye. She's… well, you know your mother. I've always wanted to be there for you, of course, but not when… your mother has been having a lot of bad days lately. You have to understand that, right?"
"Bullshit," Ansel spat, taking a step forward. "You're just looking out for yourself."
The smile on their father's face grew more strained. "Sometimes things aren't as easy as they seem. Someday you'll understand that much."
"You don't have a real explanation for yourself?" Mira quirked a brow. "Is that all? You're not even coming back, are you?"
"I'm sorry," he repeated, and Sagan already knew the answer. "I just… I can't live with that anymore. I hope you understand."
And then, without asking them how they were doing, without asking if they wanted to come with him, without caring, he turned his back to them and left. Sagan stared, still trying to process everything that just happened as her siblings shook their heads and returned to the market. They hadn't expected anything different. Sagan supposed she hadn't either, but she didn't quite know what she expected at all. More than this.
You left us! Sagan wanted to scream. You just left us and now you're leaving again!
But instead she said nothing at all. The only thing she did was watch him walk away.
If you asked Sagan about this moment years later, she'd just comment that her father didn't deserve the time of day from her. And perhaps she was right, but no matter what she said, that didn't soothe the quiet burn in her heart.
Nothing did. Nothing ever would. Sagan would just silently burn and burn until there was nothing left of her at all. Nothing but ash.
"What the hell are you doing?"
Sagan staggered back a step as her mother snatched the duster out of her hand. "Yesterday you said-"
"Dust is flying everywhere! Can't you at least understand that much?" Her mother rubbed her temples, irritation written across her features. "God, no one listens to me around here."
Biting back a remark, Sagan just nodded, silently berating herself. "I'll fix it," she promised, placing a hand on her mother's shoulder. "You should get back to bed, though."
Her mother smacked her hand away, though that didn't sting much. Sagan just kept a keen eye on her, nodding along to her vaguely incoherent mumbles. She checked the time on her watch as she helped her mother up the stairs, noting that she had to be at work soon. Her mother mostly understood that her children all had to work just to keep the house afloat, but Sagan sometimes wondered if that fact truly sank in for her. Regardless, she finished escorting her mother to bed before rushing out of the house, making sure to turn off all the lights on her way. They couldn't afford anything extra on the electric bill.
Especially not now that it was just Sagan and Ansel in the house. The instant Mira turned eighteen, she left just like their father did. Sagan made sure that Mira was aware of that as she left, but Mira didn't bother to respond to her jabs. That was just as well. Sagan would prove that she didn't need Mira. She didn't need anyone, and she certainly didn't need someone that would end up leaving her. By this point in her life, Sagan needed to know who was worth her time and who wasn't. She could easily fit everyone in her life into those two categories.
Sometimes, Mira or her father would drop by long enough to check in on Sagan and Ansel and offer them a way out. They both always said no, but Sagan was well aware of Ansel's hesitation and the way his eyes darted over to her before answering. Sagan would have to be a fool not to notice that he was only staying for her, not their mother.
Deep down, she knew he wanted to leave as well. Time was running out, but there was nothing to be done. If Ansel wanted to abandon her mother, wanted to abandon her just like everyone else, then that was just as well.
She'd stay for all of them.
Resentment was like a weed growing in the darkness - ugly, cruel, and hard to get rid of. Sagan was all too familiar with this emotion, the wounds on her heart festering until they burned. She carried those weeds close to her chest, nurtured them until they protected her just as much as they fed off of her. She let them feed. It was better than burning alive.
Not everyone agreed with this. Her siblings - hell, even her father - tried to get her to move out of her home. They begged her to come live with them, saying anything was better than taking care of her mother. Ansel was the most insistent and the only one that came to visit, dropping by once a week to check in on her. Sagan noticed he didn't seem particularly interested in how her mother was doing.
She hated them all for it. Sagan couldn't fathom how any of them could leave her mother behind so easily. Sure, she wasn't the easiest to get along with, but if Sagan herself abandoned her mother…
Who would she have left?
"No," Sagan said flatly, staring at Ansel.
"C'mon, Sagan, why are you so stuck on this?" Ansel was getting increasingly frustrated by this point, and Sagan already knew that their conversation would devolve into a fight. "Whatever point you were trying to make, you proved it a long time ago. Stop being so stubborn and just-"
"This isn't about being stubborn or proving a point," Sagan snapped. "You and Mira always like to think you know best, that I'm just the baby of the family, but I know what I'm doing."
"The baby? Sagan, we've never thought that. We're just trying to look out for you!"
"And I can look out for myself. I have for years now. I can't just leave Mom. I know it was all too easy for you, but I can't give up on people that easily."
Ansel just laughed out loud, making Sagan bristle. "I'm the one that's giving up? She's already given up on herself; you're the one that's dragging her along. She's going to drag you down with her if you're not careful."
"See? You're doing it again. I can take care of myself and Mom, and I don't need your help doing it," Sagan insisted, grip tightening on the door, ready to slam it shut at a moment's notice. "It took nothing for you to abandon her, so I'm sure it'll take nothing for you to abandon me as well."
Sighing in frustration, Ansel raked a hand through his hair. "That's not fair. You don't know-"
"Sounds plenty fair of me to state the truth," Sagan said, raising an eyebrow. "And I know plenty. I'm not some stupid kid anymore."
"I never said you were-"
Sagan heard something crash from inside the house, and she winced before smoothing out the wrinkles on her clothes and lifting her chin. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have something more important to take care of."
Whatever he had to say in response was muffled by the door slamming shut. Sagan managed to keep her spine rigid until she hit the stairwell, letting herself slump to the floor and bury her head in her hands.
Abandonment was something that Sagan was all too familiar with, and she wouldn't let it happen to her again. Not to her or her mother. If no one else would take care of them, then she would. None of the outstretched hands were there for her mother, after all, only for her. And Sagan wouldn't grab one unless she could take her mother as well.
Sagan Pomare was still burning, and maybe she always would. But she'd light the fire herself if it meant taking care of her mother.
Her mother would always come first.
Aleksei Court, 15
District Six Male, he/him
He was in a new place today.
That wasn't uncommon. Aleksei almost always found himself in a new place when he woke up each morning. Based on the way he felt slightly more comfortable than normal, he had to assume that he'd managed to spend the night in an actual house for once. Not his own, for obvious reasons, but at least it was better than sleeping under a bridge.
Aleksei hadn't felt the comfort of something like a mattress or even a couch in a long time. Even now, he was stretched out on the floor without so much as a pillow under his head or a blanket to cover him. At least spring was beginning to creep into summer, and he no longer had to worry about freezing in his sleep. He considered that an upgrade.
It was going to be a good day today. Sure, Aleksei didn't know that for sure - he never did - but he'd find a way to make it happen anyway. He hadn't started out his day under a bridge, so surely there was nowhere to go but up.
"Morning, Aleksei!"
Aleksei grinned and immediately hopped up from his spot on the floor, grinning over at Dexter. "Morning! Thanks for letting me stay the night."
"You know our floor is always open if you need it."
"I can't take you up on that offer too often, or else you'll get tired of me!" Aleksei said, brushing him off. In truth, he didn't feel like he should overstay his welcome, or he might not be allowed back. He didn't mind being constantly on the move, anyway.
In a few seconds, Dexter was at his side with an arm slung over his shoulder, and Aleksei just grinned broadly. "Will I be seeing you back here tonight?"
"Probably not, I've gotta run a couple errands after dinner at Avana's."
"Tomorrow, then? We left our last game tied, and we both know I was about to win."
Aleksei snickered and shoved his arm off. "That's crazy! You're the one that insisted we stop for the night because it was getting dark - that and I was about to kick your ass."
"I guess now we'll never know," Dexter insisted, placing a dramatic hand over his heart. "It will remain a mystery forever… or, at least until we start up a rematch."
"Or we could find something else to do," Aleksei suggested, eyes already glittering with a new challenge. "Oh! You know how the Peacekeepers like roaming around at night?"
"You can't possibly think it's a good idea to risk running into the Peacekeepers this close to the reapings," Haven said, rolling her eyes as she came downstairs. "They're out for blood this time of year."
"That's what makes it a challenge!" Dexter chimed in. "Sort of like hide and seek, but with higher stakes."
Haven put a hand on her hip and shot them both a look, but they merely gave her matching grins in response. After heaving a sigh, she turned her back to them and started getting herself breakfast. "As long as I'm around, I'm not letting you drag yourselves into anything completely stupid."
"Without you?" Aleksei joked. "If you wanted to be invited, you could've just asked."
"Absolutely not."
"It must be so hard for you to wake up every day and be a buzzkill," Dexter bemoaned, draping himself across a chair. "No wonder you sleep so much. It must take a lot of energy to suck the joy out of everything."
"It keeps my brain cells from dying after hanging out with you two."
Aleksei snickered, putting his shoes on and getting ready to go. "We can sort this out later, yeah, Dexter? For now, I've gotta go."
The two cousins were about to completely devolve into good natured bickering, but they both turned to wave at him before they could start. Dexter grinned broadly, and Haven just watched him leave with a quirked brow. Aleksei smiled and waved before grabbing his old rucksack and stepping out into the shining sun.
His walk to Kian's apartment was another constant of his day. Most of the time, Six could be grey and dreary, but today the sun was blazing bright. Aleksei had to shield his eyes as he looked for the familiar landmarks that led him where he needed to go. It almost made him sad that he was wasting away this beautiful day by working, but hopefully he'd finish up his jobs early and could hang out with his siblings at Avana's house later. Besides, no day was truly wasted as long as he was working. He may not be paid much, but any amount of money was better than nothing.
In the end, it would add up. Aleksei just had to keep reminding himself of that.
He arrived at Kian's and let himself in after knocking. Kian knew to expect him around this time of day, and the man already had bundles of morphling laid out on the table waiting for him. Aleksei took a moment to survey all of them, trying to gauge how long it would take him to run the morphling across the District today. Hopefully he'd be done by dinner.
His days easily flew by like this. Aleksei had come to (mostly) enjoy running across the District delivering morphling, though his siblings hated what he was doing. Sure, sometimes he had to dodge patrolling Peacekeepers, and other days he had to avoid addicts willing to try and steal the morphling he carried - or the money - but overall it wasn't too bad. After all, it made money, and what else could Aleksei ask for?
"Last one," Kian said, putting a larger batch of morphling into his bag and rattling off the address. "You'll get your cut as soon as you come back with this."
"Wait, but-" Aleksei began, trying not to blanch as he realized where the address he'd been given was.
"I'm waiting," Kian said, raising a singular eyebrow. "Is there an issue? I could always send this batch with someone more willing, but then I'd have to reconsider why I'm paying you in the first place."
"It's just…" Aleksei stops, licks his lips. "It's just that this is in the middle of the District. There are more Peacekeepers in that area."
"So? You do the job you're paid for, or you don't get paid at all. Get out of my face - with or without the morphling."
Aleksei had learned long ago that Kian wasn't someone to mess around with. He'd never meant to get caught up in something like this, but here he was now. His options were clear: he could either take the morphling and possibly get paid at the end of the day, or he could leave now and risk losing the job entirely.
There wasn't really a choice. There never was. That's why Kian was so willing to just let him leave. At the end of the day, Aleksei needed this money, no matter how meager it was.
(It's not as if he could do anything else to help his family.)
"I'll see you in a bit!" Aleksei said cheerfully, giving Kian a bright smile that he knew wouldn't be returned. There was no use lingering on anything that he couldn't change, after all, and Aleksei would deal with whatever hand he was dealt.
Kian just waved him off, already turning back to whatever he'd been doing before. He didn't particularly care what Aleksei got up to as long as he got the job done in the end - which, of course, Aleksei always did. Aleksei knew that if he didn't, that his siblings might go another night without food, and they'd been through plenty of those in the past.
It didn't take him long to make his way out of the slums of Six, but from there, things got a little trickier. As a scrappy, malnourished kid in the slums, he blended right in; the closer he got to the center of the District, the closer he got to Peacekeepers who would be more than willing to drag him in for questioning over the smallest thing. So he kept close to buildings, making sure to lurk in the shadows without looking too suspicious. Luckily for him, his normal jovial attitude and bright grin were enough to distract most people from his possibly sinister intentions.
Even so, any job that brought him this close to the heart of the District had him sweating profusely. Aleksei whistled a quiet tune as he walked, glancing about for anyone that might recognize it. He hadn't caught sight of any Peacekeepers walking the streets, so hopefully he'd get lucky and avoid them entirely.
Within a few minutes, Aleksei had made the trade and had money in his pocket to replace the morphling. He immediately turned and began making his way back towards the slums, which presented a new problem - anyone that had money was a target as well. He slipped a hand into his pocket, double checking to make sure his knife was still there, and continued on his way. You could never be truly safe in a place like Six.
There was the slight snag that he didn't actually know what to do with a knife, but that was alright. Usually flashing a blade was enough to get the addicts to back off. They valued morphling more than anything else, and if they couldn't get it easily, they would scurry off to try and get it elsewhere.
Aleksei knew all about that.
It didn't take long to drop the money off for Kian, who counted it all up before giving Aleksei his cut. He didn't bother to count it, not now, instead giving Kian a brilliant smile and a wave before heading out. Clutching his bag and the money close to his chest, Aleksei began weaving his way through the District, ready to head to Avana's for dinner.
The air was cooling down from the unrelenting heat of the day, and Aleksei was grateful for it. Based on where the sun was in the sky, he figured he still had a couple hours left in the day. That would give him plenty of time to make a detour.
He'd done this enough times that Aleksei knew how much money to take out of his small bundle. If Avana suspected anything when he came home with a bit less money than normal, she didn't say anything. If anything, she probably figured he was entitled to at least a few secrets. And while that was true, Aleksei wasn't quite sure how to approach his sister with this one.
He stopped by a small market, grabbing enough bread and other nonperishables to feed two people for a day or two. Aleksei watched the lady wrap up his items in brown paper before handing them over, and he gave her the money that he'd counted out in advance. She let him go with a smile and a pat on the head, which he accepted with a grin of his own. He didn't know her name, and she didn't know his, but in a place like Six, that wasn't necessary. He figured she was nice, though; she didn't know why he did this once a week, but she never asked him any questions either. Aleksei was grateful for that.
Aleksei quickly found himself in the most rundown part of Six, slipping one hand into his pocket to make sure his knife was still there. His shoulders hunched slightly, as if trying to protect himself from any threats that could be around, but he managed to let himself into the house before anyone noticed him.
Letting out a quiet sigh of relief, Aleksei quickly wrinkled his nose at the smell of mildew and rot. He tried to breathe shallowly, knowing that he wouldn't be here for long. The house was small - far too small for the ten children that once lived here - and he still remembered the layout perfectly; his feet took him into the kitchen area, which was practically falling apart from disuse.
Based on the silence, Aleksei almost could've thought he was the only person alive in this house right now. The only thing he heard was the sound of his own shallow breathing and the gentle rustle of paper as he adjusted his rucksack.
For a moment, he debated what to do next. Most days, Aleksei just dropped the food off and left. He hated risking running into his parents, but… well, he felt the need to make sure they were still alive. Based on the way they were living, it was entirely possible that they weren't. And sure, Aleksei shouldn't care after everything he'd been put through, but he couldn't help himself. He was the only one of his siblings that came back to visit this house - or their parents - anyway, and somehow it felt like his duty.
He quietly padded through the house, stepping around patches of mold on the floor. He spotted a few half-eaten chunks of bread that had been there for god knew how long, but Aleksei didn't want to clean up after his parents as well as feed them.
His father was passed out on the couch, though he looked as if he might fall off at any point. Aleksei kept his distance, watched his chest rise and fall a few times, and resumed his search to look for his mother. Her positioning was more unfortunate; she was just around the corner from the kitchen, passed out from either drugs or exhaustion. Aleksei wasn't sure how he'd missed her the first time, but her body was small and frail enough that he wasn't surprised either. He watched to make sure she was breathing as well, but her entire body was trembling for reasons he couldn't entirely place. It was likely the drugs, sure, but based on what he knew… it could be any number of things.
If she continues on like this, she'll die within a year, the sensible part of him whispered.
Aleksei thought about that for a moment, letting the words settle into his mind. He waited for some kind of impact, for some kind of feeling about his own mother dying, but he could barely summon anything more than indifference. His smile finally faltered then - not because he thought he should feel something for the woman that has only brought ruin into his life, but because… well, he didn't quite know. Whatever feelings he had on the matter were too complicated to sort out so easily, even if Avana insisted they just let their parents rot.
He dropped the food off on the table, wrinkling his nose at the mold and filth covering the surface. This meal would probably be the most they'd eat for the next week. They were barely scraping by as it was.
Was there anything more Aleksei could do for them? Was there anything more he wanted to do for them? The most they'd ever done was bring him into this world, and they'd very nearly taken him out of it as well due to their constant neglect. They cared about morphling more than their own family. If Aleksei bothered to bring them money, they'd just spend it all on morphling and continue wasting away.
Something latched around his ankle. Aleksei flinched and looked down; he always made sure to time his visits so his parents were asleep, but he must've lingered too long this time.
"Hey, Ma," he said softly, hoping not to wake his father.
Her eyes were wide and distant, but she still managed to look him in the eyes. Her grip on his leg tightened, and she pulled herself up off the ground. For half a second, her gaze flew over to the bag he'd left on the table before returning to him again.
"I just brought food," he explained, leaning down to pry her hand off his leg. "No morphling."
She instantly deflated, looking at the bag with no slight amount of disinterest. Aleksei just carefully disentangled himself and headed to the door without so much as a farewell.
In this world, there were some people that couldn't be helped. But there were also those that could, and Aleksei would do whatever he could to help his family - his real family.
Someday he'd find a way to make it better for them.
Guinevere "Gwen" Solomon, 18
District Eight Female, she/her
She was running out of time.
While Gwen had no rational logic behind this idea, it was drilled into her head regardless. She was eighteen, she finally had her life together, she was finally happy, and yet it felt like her entire world was on the cusp of falling apart. She could feel it, deep in her bones. Something was creeping up on her, something that she wouldn't be able to keep away for long.
Even now, she could feel the weight of eyes on her from all sides. Gwen nearly shuddered, but she managed to keep her spine rigid, sitting on the very edge of her seat. Her nails tapped the table, giving her something to listen to besides her own racing thoughts and pounding heartbeat. This was all completely irrational. Gwen knew that. She wasn't haunted. She never had been. And yet…
She risked a glance over her shoulder. Nothing. Of course. There was never anything there.
Rubbing her temples, Gwen sighed and slumped against the table in front of her. With the Reaping merely a few days away, she was stuck in her head now more than ever. There was a fog lurking at the edges of her mind, ready to swallow her the moment she gave in.
(Give into what? Gwen didn't know either, but after so long she was finally in a good place. A happy place. And she wouldn't let anything endanger that.)
"Hey wifey, you good?" Shay asked from the doorway, giving Gwen a wiggle of their eyebrows when she lifted her head. "Up for a couple more customers?"
"Always," Gwen said, sitting up straight. "If anyone is out there, tell them I just had to clear my head for a few."
"Anything I can do for you?" Shay asked, eyebrows drawing together in concern as they looked Gwen over again. "We can always-"
Gwen cracked a smile, flashing him a wink. "You trying to go easy on me, wifey?" she cooed back, snickering as she saw Jericho hovering in the background pretending to gag. "It's rude to eavesdrop!" she called to him.
Jericho had gone back to his tasks, whistling innocently by the time Shay turned to see what their brother was doing. Gwen watched the two with a bemused smile before adjusting the props on her table. If any customers really did walk through that door, she needed to be ready to put on a proper show for them. They needed to get what they paid for, after all.
What they paid for was the truth. But Gwen was willing to give them whatever would help them most; as long as they were in her presence, the truth was whatever she made happen.
"Are you… Guinevere?"
Glancing up, Gwen nodded at the woman standing in the doorway. "I am indeed. And you are?"
"Indira," she muttered, staring down at the floor.
"Come in and sit down," Gwen said, keeping her voice mellow and level. "It's wonderful to have you here today."
Every part of Gwen's meetings with a customer was a carefully planned performance. It was Shay's idea for her to do this in the first place - Gwen's childhood reputation as a 'witch' could finally be put to good use making money. She didn't necessarily believe in anything as silly as that, but Gwen was more than willing to embrace the act as long as it made enough money to help keep the Strange & Unusual Oddities Parlour afloat.
Across from her, the woman sniffled into a tissue. Her eyes darted around the room, very obviously taking in the dark fabric hanging from the walls and the gilded frame hanging directly behind Gwen. She was clearly out of place, which was a good place to start.
"You've never done this before, have you?" Gwen began shuffling her deck of tarot cards, eyes occasionally flickering up to take in Indira's mannerisms and file them away for later.
"How did yo-" Indira started, before laughing and shaking her head. "I suppose you are psychic."
"Doesn't take a psychic to see nerves," Gwen said, giving her a wink. "I'll show you what I can really do in a minute."
That was enough to make the woman crack a slight smile, and Gwen knew she was in. With new visitors, she found it was best to find a way to soothe their nerves. Some of them came in trying to find ways to prove she wasn't a psychic, trying to kick her out of the business, and Gwen had to take steps to maintain her position. There was no point in trying to pretend for something so obvious - Indira clearly looked out of her element, and anyone could point that out. Gwen just needed her to relax enough to see the real tells.
"How long has your love life been troubled?" Gwen asked, continuing to shuffle her tarot cards.
"What?" Indira asked, startled. "How did you-"
"Psychic, remember?" Gwen teased, fanning the deck out. "Ask a question - any question, though it does have to be open ended - and then pick a card."
It was an easy enough assumption. Indira kept glancing at the ring on Gwen's hand and then at her own bare finger, as if something was missing. She was visibly upset by something as well, and newcomers often only visited Gwen as a last resort if they felt they truly needed guidance.
"He left me," the woman quietly muttered. "Where am I supposed to go from here?"
"Choose whichever card you feel is calling to you," Gwen instructed, raising the cards slightly. "Just one, we can do a full spread after this."
Her hand danced over the cards, nearly touching a couple before withdrawing. The woman's nerves clearly hadn't gone away, but she was at least more focused now. Eventually, she snagged the third card from the left, and Gwen placed the remaining cards in a pile on the table. She glanced up, ready to take the card from Indira before realizing the woman had paled considerably.
There was only one card in the deck that made an inexperienced person react like that.
Gwen raised a singular eyebrow. "The death card is nothing to fear," she said, gently pushing Indira's wrist down so she'd lay the card flat on the table, revealing that her prediction was right. "It does not mean true death, only the death of what once was. You come here wanting to know what to do about your lost husband, and here is my answer: leave him. This may be the end of that relationship, but there is so much more out there."
Indira sniffled again, her hands firmly in her lap. "Really? But I was supposed to meet with him tonight. We were going to talk things through."
"The cards are always just a suggestion," Gwen said, gesturing to the upright death card between them. "But this card means there's a transformation coming, and you can either run from it or embrace it. Tell me - how long has your marriage been dying?"
Another sniffle. "A few months now. I just… I always thought I would be the one to make the first move…"
"The death of something you've become accustomed to can be scary," Gwen insisted, reaching a hand out for Indira's. "But there's always going to be another beginning. Change is only meant to be feared when we are not ready to embrace it."
Indira let herself accept Gwen's comforting hand, giving her a slight smile through tears. "So if I accept this change… you promise it'll be okay?"
"Nothing in life is certain. Death is an eventuality, whether that be true death or the death of what we know now. Whatever happens next is up to you. If you'd like, I can do a more in depth reading - but, of course, that would be another fee."
At this point, Gwen figured she had Indira hooked enough that it wouldn't be too hard to get the woman to spend a little more money than she originally intended. And Gwen was more than happy to oblige, willing to read her cards and drain her of as much money as she could. That was the life of a conwoman, after all, and Gwen was more than willing to pull her weight. Shay had done so much for her already, and it was only right for her to give back in any way she could.
"I suppose it couldn't hurt," Indira said, glancing at the cards with clear intrigue written across her features. "I feel as though I need as much guidance as I can get."
"Of course," Gwen replied, trying to keep a pleased smile off of her face. "Let me just prepare my cards once more."
As she picked up the death card and began to shuffle it back into the deck, Gwen heard a bell ring at the front of the store, indicating that someone had entered. She tried to tune out any intruding noises, staying concentrated on the customer in front of her, but she was quickly greeted by the sound of raised voices - voices she very quickly recognized.
"Is something the matter?" Indira asked worriedly, glancing over her shoulder to try and see what was happening.
Gwen was grateful that Indira had turned around, as she had to clench her hands into fists to prevent them from visibly trembling. "I'll be right back," she muttered, excusing herself without an explanation.
Ever so carefully, Gwen made her way into the main area of the store, edging past shelves full of various items that would be sold as if they were far rarer and more interesting than they truly were. Her stomach was a ball of nerves, so she hovered by a 'relic' labeled Coriolanus Snow's skull, staring at the white bone as if it could offer her any semblance of help. The skull's empty eyes just stared back at her. Gwen wished they could swallow her whole.
She was running out of time.
"I'm a paying customer, I don't see what the issue is," Donovan argued, his displeasure with Shay seeping into his voice.
"And I need you to leave right now before I kick you out myself," Shay insisted, standing close to Donovan as if they were going to go through with his promise. "This is my shop and I get to decide who's a customer and who isn't."
"But I know you do seances here!" Donovan insisted, trying to edge around Shay. "I just want to talk to-"
Based on the way his voice suddenly cut off, Gwen knew that she'd been spotted. She tore her gaze away from the skull, staring at Donovan's grief-stricken face, which quickly transformed into a hopeful smile.
"Scarlet," he breathed, managing to take a step closer despite Shay's arm in the way. "My Scarlet."
"She's not your anything," Shay insisted. They took one look at Gwen's face and, after seeing the clear distress that must've been written all over it, gripped Donovan's arm and dragged him towards the door.
"Wait!" Donovan called, trying desperately to reach out for Gwen, who was still frozen in place. "Scarlet, wait! You can't-"
With one harsh shove, Donovan was sent sprawling into the street. Shay looked down at the man without any mercy in his gaze, coldly dictating, "Don't you ever fucking come back here," before slamming the door.
Their face changed into one of concern in an instant, rushing over to Gwen in an instant. She could still feel herself trembling, arms wrapped tightly around herself. Shay wrapped their arms around her gently, bringing her in close. Gwen just rested her head against his shoulder, letting herself be close to someone and accept the affection they offered.
"I'm so sorry I couldn't get him out sooner," Shay said, rubbing her back slowly.
"It's alright," Gwen insisted, hoping her voice wasn't shaking too badly. Even if it was, it's not like Shay couldn't see through her already. They always seemed to know exactly what she needed.
And right now, in the middle of the day, when they still had a few people milling about the store, the last thing she wanted was to make more of a scene. Gwen had spent enough of her years being seen as some kind of spectacle, and she had hoped to be free of all that by now.
"I'll be back," Gwen whispered faintly, brushing off the affection. She hated doing this to Shay - they'd been through so much with her, they knew everything - but she knew exactly where she needed to be right now.
They let her go without any protest. After all, at the end of the day, they'd always come back together. Perhaps not in law, but in all the ways that truly mattered, they were married. They shared everything. There were no secrets that Gwen wanted to keep from him anyway.
She knew that there was only one area of the shop that held what she was looking for. She usually avoided this particular area at all costs - some things weren't worth the mental toll - but today she needed the reminder.
Her hand unconsciously sought out her own reflection in the ornate mirror, tracing the curve of her face. She had to remind herself that she was herself right now. Not Scarlet. Never Scarlet.
She blinked, spotting something out of the corner of her eye. Gwen squeezed her eyes shut, hoping that she'd seen incorrectly. It had been so long since she'd seen that face behind her in every mirror, but somehow Gwen had known this was coming.
She was running out of time.
Even though she knew what she'd see standing right behind her, Gwen still flinched as she saw the face that resembled hers so much. They could've been sisters, really. That's why Donovan had chosen to adopt her.
But Scarlet had been reaped for the 119th Hunger Games. She'd died just as hundreds of children had before her. And in his grief, Donovan had wanted a way to have his daughter back. In the end, Gwen was nothing more than a substitute for his lost child.
"You can't scare me anymore," Gwen whispered to the ghost that still haunted her. "You can't hurt me."
The reflection only smiled before disappearing entirely, and a shudder ran down Gwen's spine. She was alone once more, but her sense of uneasiness had only grown. Something worse was coming, and Gwen didn't know how to stop it.
Scarlet Sicilienne resented being replaced, and now she was going to drag Gwen down with her.
happy intros day! thank you to em for sagan, silver for aleksei, and erik for gwen! i hope everyone loves these three kids just as much as i do!
next week should be intros 2, theatrics, featuring theo, thessaly, and kodo, so i hope everyone is excited for that too! it's about time to get this show on the road, huh? um... i'm running out of things to say. leave a review if ur feeling fresh and funky but if u just drop thoughts in my channel that's sexy too i'm a whore for some good thinks and thunks. see ya next week!
~de laney is out