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31_days2014-01-21 07:24 pm
seta-suzume.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2014-01-21 07:24 pm
[Jan. 21] [THG] Everything Has a Price
Title: Everything Has a Price
Day/Theme: Jan. 21, 2014 "men are not bought and sold with words alone"
Series: Hunger Games series
Character/Pairing: Mags, OC victors
Rating: PG-13 (also, even more spoilery for upcoming chapters of Your Own Kind than yesterday)
Silk walks away, smiling, looking back, waving to me over her shoulder- the whole possible bundle of marks of a friendly parting.
"She's your type," Jack laughs.
I give his arm a soft punch in retaliation. It doesn't throw Jack in the slightest. He just keeps laughing.
A stranger says something to Silk on the street- they are strangers to us, but to the Capitol's citizens, every victor is a friend they just haven't spoken with yet- and I hear her laugh before carrying on her way. I lose sight of her and Jack and I retreat back inside.
I awake in the morning in my hotel room to the gentle murmur of the television turned on low. Maybe there was some kind of presidential announcement? The things turn themselves on for required programming in the Capitol like everywhere else.
Yes, it is the TV…
And I sit up and look at the news broadcast and realize what I am seeing I am covered in a cold sweat. I want to scream and yet no sound escapes my lips. I pick up the phone, trembling, and dial Jack.
"Hello," he answers, somewhat tentative, "Jack Umber speaking."
"Jack…" is all I can manage.
Onscreen a reporter at the television station is dispassionately explaining how Silk's body was found around two am down an alleyway. At the roped off scene of the crime I can still see stains of blood, though her body has already been moved. Fans have gathered along the sidewalk, crying maudlin tears and creating a haphazard mound of flowers and other tokens dedicated to the well-loved victor.
She was raped and murdered. I am chilled to the bone to hear it. Stabbed four times in the chest, though they speak of evidence that she fought back. Yes, a victor would. They say the damage she must have done to her attacker will help the authorities in their search to identify the culprit.
I am still on the line with Jack, though I realize I have not said anything for a long time. If Jack has said anything else, I haven't even heard. I listen and can hear his breathing. Something important has occurred to me: "…where's Pal?"
"Victor Wing of the hospital. They thought he needed to be sedated."
"…will you come here or should I meet you there?" I ask. The tears are starting, bubbling up fierce and warm, streaking down my face.
"I'll come for you," Jack says. Just the sound of his voice is comforting- he sounds strong, secure.
"Everyone kept asking," Pal whispers, "But I said she wasn't for sale. Not for any price. I- I made so many promises to save her, but none of them were meant to tie her to anyone or anything after her Games. It was just that she would be there- for them to see. And I made sure they saw her. We went on TV. We accepted the invitations. We went where people could see us. I was willing to sell myself to save her- whatever people would buy- my work, my dignity, anything. I thought they would stop, but they kept on asking. She wasn't for sale."
So someone took what they couldn't buy.
I wonder what kind of horrible person would do such a thing. I wonder if they will catch him. I wonder what will happen to him.
"It didn't matter what I said, did it?" Pal begins to choke and sputter, "I sold her myself, didn't I? I sold her myself!"
Day/Theme: Jan. 21, 2014 "men are not bought and sold with words alone"
Series: Hunger Games series
Character/Pairing: Mags, OC victors
Rating: PG-13 (also, even more spoilery for upcoming chapters of Your Own Kind than yesterday)
Silk walks away, smiling, looking back, waving to me over her shoulder- the whole possible bundle of marks of a friendly parting.
"She's your type," Jack laughs.
I give his arm a soft punch in retaliation. It doesn't throw Jack in the slightest. He just keeps laughing.
A stranger says something to Silk on the street- they are strangers to us, but to the Capitol's citizens, every victor is a friend they just haven't spoken with yet- and I hear her laugh before carrying on her way. I lose sight of her and Jack and I retreat back inside.
I awake in the morning in my hotel room to the gentle murmur of the television turned on low. Maybe there was some kind of presidential announcement? The things turn themselves on for required programming in the Capitol like everywhere else.
Yes, it is the TV…
And I sit up and look at the news broadcast and realize what I am seeing I am covered in a cold sweat. I want to scream and yet no sound escapes my lips. I pick up the phone, trembling, and dial Jack.
"Hello," he answers, somewhat tentative, "Jack Umber speaking."
"Jack…" is all I can manage.
Onscreen a reporter at the television station is dispassionately explaining how Silk's body was found around two am down an alleyway. At the roped off scene of the crime I can still see stains of blood, though her body has already been moved. Fans have gathered along the sidewalk, crying maudlin tears and creating a haphazard mound of flowers and other tokens dedicated to the well-loved victor.
She was raped and murdered. I am chilled to the bone to hear it. Stabbed four times in the chest, though they speak of evidence that she fought back. Yes, a victor would. They say the damage she must have done to her attacker will help the authorities in their search to identify the culprit.
I am still on the line with Jack, though I realize I have not said anything for a long time. If Jack has said anything else, I haven't even heard. I listen and can hear his breathing. Something important has occurred to me: "…where's Pal?"
"Victor Wing of the hospital. They thought he needed to be sedated."
"…will you come here or should I meet you there?" I ask. The tears are starting, bubbling up fierce and warm, streaking down my face.
"I'll come for you," Jack says. Just the sound of his voice is comforting- he sounds strong, secure.
"Everyone kept asking," Pal whispers, "But I said she wasn't for sale. Not for any price. I- I made so many promises to save her, but none of them were meant to tie her to anyone or anything after her Games. It was just that she would be there- for them to see. And I made sure they saw her. We went on TV. We accepted the invitations. We went where people could see us. I was willing to sell myself to save her- whatever people would buy- my work, my dignity, anything. I thought they would stop, but they kept on asking. She wasn't for sale."
So someone took what they couldn't buy.
I wonder what kind of horrible person would do such a thing. I wonder if they will catch him. I wonder what will happen to him.
"It didn't matter what I said, did it?" Pal begins to choke and sputter, "I sold her myself, didn't I? I sold her myself!"