Vesta Harley

Head Gamemaker

Mysterious Disappearance of Genuive Belict After A Bashing Article

Staff Writer

At seven in the morning, the peaceful streets of the Capitol were awoken by a piercing scream.

Twenty-six-year-old Genuive Belict was found dead at the foot of her door, a note taped to the back of her body.

Dear Panem,

Snow comes back stronger than before. Snow Reign.

xoxo

A knife was buried in her heart, her mouth hung open mid-scream and her eyes showed terror we can only imagine she had experienced. There was no trace of the attacker, and all security footage was wiped of any evidence. All we know for sure is: Don't mess with Celestia Snow.

Vesta placed the newspaper down on the table with an exaggerated sigh. She took a sip of her coffee, eyes darting briefly to her orange cat, Spike. "We both know who's responsible for this, right?"

The only response she got was a meow.

Since the death of Cassia Snow, Celestia's mother, Vesta adopted the twelve-year-old in everything but name. She understood Celestia better than the girl understood herself. There was no denying the fact that this was her masterpiece.

There was always a hint of insanity to Celestia, from her fascination with weapons to her insistence on training with the peacekeeper. In another life, she would have made a great tribute. A spectacular show for all of Panem to witness.

Vesta wouldn't necessarily say she fears the president, but the unpredictability of Celestia's nature spiked the occasional fear for her own life. She gulped down her coffee before grabbing her blazer and purse, leaving the house after petting Spike goodbye.

She lived a few blocks away from the Gamemakers' tower, as she wanted to be close enough in case an emergency comes up but the idea of living in that tower twenty-four seven sounds night hell. Don't get her wrong, Vesta loved Celestia dearly, but there was still an invisible line they both knew she wouldn't cross.

The less time she spent with Celestia, the possibility of her death decreased (Vesta pondered on when this intense fear for the young child she had adopted first started; probably when Celestia came home covered in blood, begging Vesta to cover it. She did. But that didn't stop the unsettling feeling in her stomach).

The place was already bustling by the time Vesta made her way into the game room. The center table had a hologram of the arena, various gamemakers surrounding it and making changes. Vesta paused before she reached her desk. Celestia sat upon it, playing mindlessly with pencils Vesta had scattered across her table.

"Miss Snow, what can I do for you?"

Celestia hopped off the table, sky blue eyes following Vesta as she placed her purse on her desk. "I want to know how the arena's going."

No hellos, no 'how are yous', just business.

"We have made remarkable progress since you checked in with us less than twelve hours ago, Miss Snow," Vesta took out her tablet and turned it on, swiping up to pull up her arena design. "There is no need to worry, it will be ready in a week. We have rounded up the most talented builders and mutts are being created as we speak."

Celestia hummed, walking towards the central table with a limp in her steps. Vesta barely flinched when she noticed the speaks of blood hidden behind her cape.

"Miss Snow," Vesta called out, and Celestia turned in confusion. Vesta pulled at Celestia's cape so that it covered the blood speaks on the white colored blouse. Celestia glanced down, before looking up with a trace of a smile.

"Thank you, Vesta."

"You know I always have your back," Vesta leaned forward and placed a kiss at the shorter woman's temple. "I will see you for our weekly dinner?"

Celestia nodded once, before resuming her walk towards the rest of the gamemakers. They all froze and stood up straighter, a chorus of "Welcome, Miss Snow" echoed around the room. Celestia nodded in return, but no one else moved.

Celestia raised an eyebrow. "Do you think I'm running a model shoot here? The arena isn't going to build itself. GET TO WORK!"

Ocean Heyward

Capitol Citizen

The first time her girlfriend comes home covered in blood, Ocean screamed.

Which was a perfectly reasonable reaction when her girlfriend looked more monster than human, with blood soaking her snow white blouse and a smirk on her face.

"What happened?"

"They deserved it."

They always did. But Ocean gently took her girlfriend in her arms and led her towards the bathroom, where she ran a bath for the blonde and avoided thinking about death. It took three hours of painful scrubbing until her wooden floor was free of the blood that dripped with every step her girlfriend took, yet a few months later, she came back soaked in blood again.

"I can't keep cleaning up after you," Ocean muttered, even as she took the blonde in her arms again.

"Keep telling yourself that, darling."

"You're the President of Panem."

"Which means I could do whatever I want," Celestia's eyes were cold, and Ocean sighed as she ran another bath for her. "You know, I'm only doing the Peacekeeper a favor."

Ocean chose not to respond, and Celestia pouted. "Why don't you join me in the bath, darling?"

"I would rather you join me in bed, Les," Ocean looked away and sat cross legend on the bathroom floor, trying to let the cold tire calm her racing heart. It was fine, it wasn't as if her girlfriend was a killer. She's just doing what is best for the country. "I do not want to bathe in someone else's blood."

Celestia huffed. "Fine, I will be out in a few minutes. And what I'm doing is for the both of us. For a safer country. I eliminate the threat before they can eliminate us."

"I rather you leave that to the peacekeepers, it's what they are trained for," Ocean traced patterns on the white tiles.

"Fine, this is the last time, I promise," Celestia smiled and reached over with her wet fingers to tilt Ocean's chin up. "Cheer up, darling. I won't hurt anyone again."

You are a terrible liar.

Only more blood spilled, and Ocean had got to the point where it almost felt like a routine. Celestia can't seem to keep her hand off those who wrong her, and no one dares say anything. Not only that, her works of art were too impressive, and she hid well in the shadows. There was never any trace of her there, and the citizens had grown to believe that it was actually the work of an assassin that the Madam President hired.

So when Genuive Belict died, Ocean had no doubt that it was her wife's work (they got married last late June, with only her sister as witness and a wedding officiant in the front).

"You know, you should be proud of me, darling. I only got my blouse dirty this time, how's that?" Celestia giggled as she threw her cape onto the floor of their shared apartment. Ocean watched wearily as Celestia disappeared into their shared room and came out in her evening gown. She plopped down on the sofa and crawled into Ocean's arms, who tightened her grip on the blonde.

"How was work?"

"Same old, same old," Celestia wove the question away. "The Gamemakers really are insolent fools. But it's okay, you should be proud of me. I only got the urge to murder them once."

"Wow, only once?" Ocean deadpanned, and Celestia pouted, leaning up to press their lips together. "Do you want a reward for that?"

"Yes actually," Celestia grinned. "I want a kiss here-" she pointed to her forehead. "Here-" she pointed to her cheeks. "And here." She pointed to her lips, and Ocean laughed but obliged.

Her sister, Isla, claimed that one day she would end up on the other end of her wife's blade. But what does Isla know about love anyways? She could change Celestia, she just needs time…

imma punch out all the intros this week probably. anyways, i love my sapphic queens, you will be seeing them soon ;)

hope you enjoy!

i'm still accepting submissions :)

~ kathy