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[unawaress]

There were a lot of things she wished to say to all the claims Annie made. The implication of her supposedly villainous nature perhaps stung the most. It truly made her a stranger in her own circles. Something she had secretly suspected for quite some time, but hadn't been fully ready accept. She was from the Capitol after all - not one of them. But how could she be read so terribly different was beyond her. Or perhaps her own perception was retorted. Perhaps there was something she was missing. But heartless and complicit? No, Sarah Kline could not identify herself as such.

The blonde could say it was a rather enlightening experience to hear Annie finally sharing what she thought all along. The prejudice Sarah was trying to deny. But their interaction wasn't a collected one. There was no room for sharing and accepting the different perspectives. There was blame, anger, grief. Betrayal. Where Sarah usually could find the patience to reflect, try and understand, now she couldn't muster any of the sort. It wasn't pride. It was a broken heart, confusion and a lack of context.

"I am not a child - I don't need your lecture. I am so sick and tired of everyone telling me what to do!" she hissed before the blue pools of her eyes averted once more; nose scrunching up to hold back another wave of tears form crushing against the shores of her pale cheeks. "Telling me what to think. Telling me who I am. I am not a bad person!" A sniffle was followed by a shaky breath. "You all broke my heart. I spoke my truth to people who did want to listen to me. And took me seriously. And you - you didn't even take me into consideration. You never said anything to me until now. Until I said something you did not like. You're not nice to me, Annie. You just pretended to be and that's worse than being unkind. It's worse because I was giving everything. Because I thought you were my friend."

it's wishful to hope for a second that maybe sarah had some truth. wouldn't it be lovely if finnick and mags were both in thirteen right now ? oh with her baby boy ! mags always loved him like he was her great grandbaby by blood, just as she had his father. and if her son is to be raised just by one parent, she's choose everyday for it to be finn. oh finn - he'd be able to figure out how to escape these clutches. " it's all lies, " she says firmer this time, except rationale differs. " the rebels killed him - and others too. whatever you saw was doctored or tortured out of him. " tongue gets bitten back before she adds thea to the list. she won't tug friend down the well with her. but maybe, just maybe, sarah kline will take this information and run it in her circles rather than trash his name more. god, where is mags though ? oh, it hurts her head.

but below the exhaustion and sadness is anger boiling like magma. annie cresta was not someone made for anger ; she felt that emotion like a poison. and perhaps that's why she can't hold back fangs now. " they're dead too, you know ? your tributes. my father, fletcher, and natalia's daughter, rose, are no longer here with us. what you say has consequences. does it even matter to you or are you already looking forward to next year's lot ? " what had any of those from district four done to deserve sarah kline's vitriol. " just consider what it is you have to say next time. that's all, sarah, i promise you. being responsible for danger or death is not something that will ever lay light on your heart. you can't return from that. " or at least good people can't.

[unawaress]

Paris, Texas (1984) dir. Wim Wenders

[unawaress]

[unawaress]

[Character Building] What would they say to their family and loved ones right now?

Being imprisoned gave Sarah a lot of time to think about her life in the Capitol. About her decisions and about the things that truly mattered. Often has she wondered who would really miss her now she was gone. Who would really look for her. Her parents, of course. She assumes they are doing everything they can to get her returned to them. But she also wonders, if that were the case, why nothing has happened as of yet.

Her colleague's would notice. At GMP they would've missed her the very next morning after her disappearance. But would they look for her? Was she really close to anyone there? Not really. She didn't really have that many person relationships come to think of it. It's mostly work-related. The thought alone had driven her into more despair in her cell. Loneliness enveloping her like it had never before. Her parent apparently were the only ones to rely on and they have failed to help her as of yet.

Help me - help me - help me - help me, please!

[unawaress]

LUCY BOYNTON | CHANEL

[unawaress]

It became quite obvious to the blonde that she wasn't going to be heard. Her feelings being dismissed as secondary - collateral damage, if you will. Sarah sniffled and a palm went up to wipe away the wetness that had made its way down to her chin. She straightened her stance, fixed her composure like she used to do when set aside. When she wasn't taken seriously and her father laughed a 'thank heavens she's pretty'. And even though the words were not spoken in that particular order, the ones that lingered were echoing against the walls of her ear canals. And even though they were intended to voice another message, for Sarah it simply confirmed what she had already assumed. None of it has anything to do with you. Such a lonely evaluation of the last couple of years. All her efforts wasted. The people she thought - wished - to be close to; it was all a lie.

There is little left to be sure of. What else could she do but grasp onto the little things that seemed factual. "I saw video's of Finnick. From the rebels. That's not innocent." The escort remembers him speaking of loneliness in his video. Exhaustion from being paraded around. Had all Sarah's efforts fed a growing distaste towards. Was that why she was the only one oblivious to her position in their team? But was doing her job and she was helping! Right? "My assumptions, my gut feelings were only confirmed, when I saw Finnick on my television. And Mags. Maybe I could've believed you now, had you told me in the past that I was wrong and you tried to help me understand. That's what I expected of you!" Painted lips pressed together, swallowing down the lingering emotions. Where she had tried to continue their conversation in a more business-like approach, she failed horribly. Voice grew fragile once more and so did her entire demeanor. "And if you really don't know anything about this, Annie - well, then, they have lied to you as well. But I doubt that they did, I really do."

" set you up ? none of what you claimed about me or my family had anything to do with you. none of it. you made it about you, sarah, " disbelief increases with each word, until the escort's name comes out without warmth, like it might have just weeks ago. annie cresta watched the holo reairing on the edge of her seat. it wasn't joyous, rather felt like an intense stabbing of the back. mags: a criminal level, mastermind manipulator ? finnick too ? willfully fanning the flames of rumors of natalia and her family ? annie isn't sure if they're all rebels. the capitol says they are. people say a lot of things here, until the captive's head hurts. ( but the rebellion seems set on doing what's right, and frankly all three of them are good people. ) but those targets whether or not true is like stamping a fate of punishment one cannot avoid. the capitolite speaks of friendship and caring, but sarah seems keen on throwing the very people cresta holds dearest to the wolves. annie doesn't care if they take her, but not them. not her family, please.

annie wasn't a rebel. she hadn't even realized the underground had a presence. voice gets soft like a plead, like a part of her can somehow change kline's mind. how did they both get it so wrong ? how could the escort get her lines so crossed ; why did the victor ever think that the blonde could somehow understand ? " everyone you came for - finnick, mags, nat, me - is innocent. all we've ever tried to do is survive, sarah. "

[unawaress]

Sarah was tired. So tired. And these questions felt so insignificant. Even if she was going to spell it all out for them, they were not gonna accept anything coming out of her mouth to be the truth. That's why they charged her with slander to begin with. They only wanted to hear what benefited their cause. Not that the escort had anything to hide about that night. "Why don't you ask Ms. Cresta - you're not going to believe a word I say anyway." she mumbled sadly, eyes averting down to the table in front of her. But her vision wasn't clear and her mind still foggy from the sleepless nights, the ongoing sobs and one terror after another she had to face due to the lack of privacy in the cells.

"And why would I help you anyway? I am being held in the worst conditions with no promise or outlook on brighter circumstances. Whatever you are looking for from me, I don't have it." A ramble started and often time it was hard for the blonde to snap out of it. A waterfall of words just spilling from her lips, running faster than actual thoughts. "A-and if it's money you want - I can get you money. They- they took my pearls at my arrival; those are worth a lot. You can have them. Or let me call my father, he will get you money. Just let me call him so they know where I am and how they can help to get me home. I'm not supposed to be here; it's a mistake!" Words turned into pleas and she leaned forward a bit, emphasizing her desperation.

" from this end of the table, it does appear you've put yourself in this position, yes. " her first interview by caesar had been a bombshell to the citizens of district thirteen. mags flanagan and finnick odair of four were particularly frustrated, he'd overheard. many here did not cheer for those who strayed from the mission of the rebellion. instead, they seem to heckle. the opinion of peeta mellark, thea ellis, and amara silverhorn for example might be tainted for an undisclosed, decent amount of time until they prove to be in the favor of the underground. a capitolite who holds no remorse ? those here might eat her alive. ransom has been out on her head directed at the kline family. as far as beetee is aware, sarah's family has yet to create any arrangements for her.

" that tracks as soldiers kentwell and mason found you with annie cresta. " his briefing regarding sarah was the manila envelope he had been slid at breakfast. notes were not extravagant. it had been simply to speed read. before coming into the interrogation room, he had spoken to boggs more as well. " what did you and annie cresta discuss on the fourth floor of the tribute center ? "

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"I know that what I said was incriminating you. But that is what it is, isn't it? You all are rebelling and that is a crime against the Capitol. How bold of you to expect me to cover for you when you've spend years of lying to us! To me!"

It was as if Annie was holding a canister of oil and with each word would spill a droplet onto the already blazing fire. You don't understand - you are not like us - you don't know what you're talking about - you don't know what it is like - all you do is wrong - you stupid, stupid girl.

"And have you ever, for once, thought of how your actions made me look? Doesn't any of that matter to you?! President Snow asked me - in person - how long I've known." She paused. Yes, it had been after her initial interview, but it was also the sole reason she had shared her assumptions; wanting to clear the air about her involvement. And perhaps also justify the deeply rooted sensation of injustice inflicted on her sentiments. Her father had warned her that she was on thin ice - Cinna's execution being the very proof of that. Implying the wrong thing might mean an early grave. She could still hear the cold clicking of her heels against the floors of the mansion. Her steps weary as she was convinced to be escorted to execution as well. She had wept for days.

"Do you know what that implies?" she choked, a thick salty tear finding its way through the gates, leaving a trail through the many layers of powders. "I always did what's best for you and you collectively set me up. Why should I concern myself with your fate after your deceit? Instead of my own."

each time sarah says something, there a part of annie that wants to sink into the floor. even after all that's unfolded, causing such big reactions out of the escort makes the captive feel guilty. and yet, things continue to barrel forward steadily, like a wave coming to crash against the shore. nothing can stop it, can it ? nothing other than some peacemakers storming cresta and taking her away to become a pulp. " what you did also propelled you further. you got to choose all this, sarah. you were never reaped. "

annie remembers what it's like to hear her name be read aloud, hoping that maybe someone will take her place ; annie remembers how helpless she felt standing on the platforms with the arena. sacrifice for the districts and sacrifice for the capitol held two different definitions. it's always been the case. you're not suppose to discuss that when you're making rounds of the social scene in the capitol apparently, but annie wondered if people in the city were truly that unable to recognize the fact ? was the ignorance blatant or blissful ?

cresta puts cup down and fingers wrap around marble countertop. it's a navy blue to match the sea, someone once told her. the clench is such that knuckles become rather white. " you chose to give that interview. and regardless of what's right and what's wrong, what you said could have real life ramifications, " she continues. there's so much sarah doesn't know, or simply insinuates. the brunette wonders what guided sarah to do all that she has since the finalization of the quell. " does none of that matter to you ? " she speaks of friendship. were they so bad to the escort that the true possibility of violence the only suitable choice for sarah to make ?

[unawaress]

pearl (2022) dir. ti west

[unawaress]

Slander. A whisper of a snort came from the blonde's throat. Slander seemed to be district thirteen's excuse to lock away innocent Capitolites. It was an easy crime after all; one that could be twisted and turned and justified any way they liked.

The logic of it all had been lost on her. Their argumentation senseless. How could it be slander when it was the truth? The victors she had mentioned had lied to the people of the Capitol. They had betrayed her; made her an outsider of their rebellious plots. Deceited her in that sense. How was that a lie? And if it was the truth, how could it be slander? The Capitol had not hurt her - but the rebels did! So far, there was nothing but the truth.

"Slander." the escort responded, followed by a soft shake of her head in disbelief. "But it's not slander. It's the speaking up part that angered them, I think. We haven't done anything wrong.."

It was hard to know how long it had been, but she didn't think that it had been that many days since she had been plucked from the Capitol and thrown into this cell. The hours went on forever, though, the only way that she knew that time had been passing was when the guards let someone in with food. She thought that it happened rather regularly, but she couldn't quite be sure.

Calista wished that Cato was there. He would know how to get them out of there. He would attack a guard or something at dinner time and they would be free. She could hear his voice in her head telling her what she needed to do to get out of there. But Calista had never been brave. Not like Cato. Not like her father. What did her parents think? Did they know that she was locked up in District Thirteen? Or did they still think that she was with Domi. Domi had to have called them, right? When they found out...a broken part of her wondered if they had been glad. Calista wasn't Cato, after all.

A voice from the cell beside her startled her. She sat up on her cot and looked over at the occupant of the other cell. Calista had listened to her sobs for days she was surprised that they had finally stopped.

"They said I slandered them," she replied, her voice hoarse after not using it for so many days. "They mentioned my family too. Why...why are you here?"

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"Allotted myself?" she echoed softly in disbelief with a shake of her head, heartbroken by the mere suggestion. The tight handcuffs that caused the aching of her wrists were the ironic picture of misplaced cruelty. Like she was dangerous. Like she would run and know where to go or what to do.

What Sarah had learnt in these days of imprisonment that slander was a charge suitable whenever a side did not prefer what someone had to say. It didn't matter whether or not it was the truth. Sarah had mentioned how Ms. Morrissey and Mr. Germaine had lied to the people of the Capitol. And they had. Sarah had spoken of how Mr. Odair and Ms. Flanagan had lied to the people of the Capitol - and they had. Them being here alongside the rebels proved that much. How can it be slander when it is the truth? But these people didn't wish to hear it because that was an inconvenience to them. Perhaps they even found enjoyment in treating citizens of the Capitol like rats in a cage.

"I was asked to go there by the President." she mumbled in response, gaze lowered due to tiredness and the pounding against her skull caused by the many shedded tears of the previous night. "I don't remember what for. To speak. I spoke to A- Ms. Cresta."

beetee latier did not care to be assigned a task of interrogation, much less for a now former escort of the hunger games. there's a need for candor at the moment, and it seems that they've called upon him and his typically black or white thinking. the desire for the gray, which in his mind is reasonable, doesn't seem to have a place within the judgement of district thirteen. if the victor is lucky, they'll remove him from the roster of interrogators soon. he would never intention do less than stellar work, rather he simply is not the most viable selection. plus, the man from three preferred to work with as few people as possible when possible.

" no, i wouldn't know. this position you've allotted yourself, i haven't been in, " he begins with a shrug as he sits opposite of sarah. even when the man joined the side of the brewing rebellion, his questioning was routine. latier wasn't made to feel like an outsider in that regard. ( though all his life, the mentor had felt a general disconnect from others for not feigning an extroverted persona merely for others' comfort. ) " you've been charged with slander after your continual interviews with caesar flickerman. it holds weight due to your fictitious remarks about the rebels as well as your remarks about others from district four, " he explains, as though sarah hadn't previously been told the same thing by some other rebel member.

had the longtime rebel been more for gossip, maybe he would take the opportunity to ask about the district four members sarah had spoken about who had in fact been members of the rebellion possibly seeing her in the cells. that doesn't interest him, justice does though - even if he still feels that he's not suited for this current position. " you had been found in the district four floor of the tribute center with annie cresta. what had transpired within that meeting, sarah ? " he asks, getting to the point. unfortunately for the both of them, this meeting will likely be anything but short.

[unawaress]

When she was a child, Sarah made friends because she had the newest toys, fashionable clothes and a surname that everyone was impressed by. When she went to high school, popularity lingered but her peers grew more cruel and judgmental. Having other qualities suddenly became more important; being bright, quick-witted, a large chest. None of which she truly possessed. Her quest for romance began - only to have boys offering promises of love and not have calls returned after an afternoon spent on the backseat of their cars. University wasn't for her so she applied for the course of becoming an escort and from there on most relations she acquired were aligned with business. Sure, she would get invited to parties. She would have small-talk. She would laugh. But never would someone call on her at her apartment to ask how she was doing and be genuinely interested in the answer. Sarah could fool herself into believing her relations weren't shallow ones - deep down she knew that weren't the case.

But there was this strong believe that there was one thing she belonged to and that was the district four team. She was a part of that and no one would be able to take that away from her. And then later she also met a dashing, tall, charming man who absolutely thrilled her through. It didn't take long for her to be wholeheartedly consumed by him; even though she did sort of managed to mask it for his sake, allowing him the space he needed to also come to realize how true their love was. It was all she ever dreamt of.

So the disappointment that came with the announcement of betrayal from her fellow team members resurrected all the previous pending disappointment stored in her heart. And she felt foolish for indulging herself into relationships that, again, weren't mutual.

"No!" Her coolness washed off her in a matter of seconds. Her stance grew unladylike as she tried to emphasize her point by leaning forward. "No, you don't get to do that!" Her voice broke as her breath got stuck in her chest when the emotions rose to the surface. Her blue gaze immediately turned shimmery; like sunlight hitting a calm ocean. "Everything I ever did, I did for you!" A finger pointed first at herself and then accusingly to Annie - even though she meant all of district four's victors and tributes.

eyes lift from the cups on the counter that steam from fresh green tea to look at sarah. lately, she'd been fixing alcoholic drinks for those from the capitol who have came through the soul crushing turnstile. cresta rarely drank before now, and the reprieve should be something to look forward to. maybe under different circumstances, perhaps. now her sunny disposition was overrun by depressing clouds and bitter rainfall. it's difficult to feel like one's self when in captivity. there's shame felt for becoming gloomy, but annie supposes there are much bigger issues at hand than that. sarah kline for instance, just to name one specific example.

words punch. it's more damage. all words, all she had planned to say, leaves her in a metaphorical gasp. except nothing leaves lips, other than a breath of air. she was gonna set them up in the living room, try to talk it out maybe. annie cresta should have known better. she had this thought that maybe sarah wasn't actively a part of the problem. how could the victor not pay mind to obvious complicity, until it literally came to bite her loved ones ? oh annie cresta, you damn fool. instead she goes to pick up her own designated mug, hands wrapping around the warmed vessel. dark eyes refuse to leave the doll faced escort.

" how is that on me ? " she asks, with a brow raising. it's messing with the mother's head. the coolness of the capitolite's demeanor makes the woman seem self assured like annie was the problem. it makes eyes sting a bit, but not enough to cause tears yet. a need to seem calm washes over her. she hates giving ammunition for appearing crazy. she isn't crazy, even if she's made to feel like she is everytime she's in the city. " sarah ... " annie draws out, trying to find her words and voice. " you didn't just go to the bridge. you brought the matches and burned it. "

[unawaress]

[Interrogation] You have regular sided with The Capitol and their totalitarian regime. What's to say that the Rebel forces could possibly trust someone like you? Your complicity with terror and murder speaks volumes.

These complex words used were hard to comprehend. Especially when deprived of sleep with a gurgling stomach and a headache caused by the many tears that had made her eyes all red and puffy. Totalitarian regime? What was that supposed to mean? Complicity with terror and murder?

"I never in my life had anything to do with terror or murder. If anything I worked my hardest so I could prevent it. I don't ask you to trust me - I just want to go home.."

[unawaress]

Bohemian Rhapsody (2018) dir. Bryan Singer

[unawaress]

"thought you'd be gone by now." from katniss (flashback)

Lashes fluttered as her gaze found the very source of the voice. Ms. Everdeen was not a figure she was very familiar with - had yet the pleasure to be introduced to. Although her story was one that had already captivated her; volunteered for her younger sister and now being in the most tragic love story of all. If anything, Sarah was quite envious. Wasn't love enticing? Absolutely thrilling. It was all she had ever longed for: a romance straight from the novels.

"Gone? Oh, no - there is always so much to do." But perhaps Katniss didn't know what a dedicated escort was like. Effie Trinket was not known for being the best at her job; she was old and still assigned to District 12, after all. That said.. something. Sarah always indulged herself into her work. There was always something more that could be achieved and Sarah aimed to gives her tributes and victors all the chances possible.

"I must say I am truly and utterly envious of you." Sarah admitted in a light, sweet manner that did not sound envious at all. More in awe. Which she was. Perhaps more because of the endearing adoration that came from Mr. Mellark, but still. "To be loved in such a way. It is truly a dream."

[unawaress]

1) Has Sarah thought about what it will mean if the side they have allegiance to loses the war?

Sarah is so convinced that justice will prevail and as of now she does not think there is a possibility the Capitol will not win. Yes, she had a fear that she would have the same fate as some of her colleagues working on the Games. Execution for believed conspiracy. But never has she considered the chances that the Capitol might lose the war. The propaganda also didn't allow such an idea to bloom.

Now that she is imprisoned in District 13, she does fear death by the hands of the rebels. She doesn't think of forever being held captive, for she still doesn't believe that the rebels will prevail.

[unawaress]

Must be tough. It was. But that was something that should not be expressed to the outside world. No one was supposed to know how she would dismiss herself to weep about a fallen tribute. Sarah would always be convinced that hers would be the ones to prevail and it rarely was the case but always hurt equally bad. She suffered in silence, though. For it was unbecoming to express such emotions when it was such a given.

She was happy she could just nod in response as they reached the coffee place. Sarah stepped in and again waited for him to follow her lead and close the door behind them. It was warm. Buzzing with extravagant people. Then again, who was really extravagant when everyone was? There was an empty spot in the back near the window that was perfect for some semi-private conversation, so they naturally made their way over there.

"You are not going to abandon me and not have some sort of sweet along with the coffee, right?" she mused, hands already leafing through the elaborate menu. "It's so hard to pick when there are so many good choices. I mean, I am definitely going to be girly cliché and go with the raspberry latte - but these pastries are all good and deciding on one is quite impossible."

Corduroy let out a low whistle when she said District 4. That was one of the districts to watch every year with plenty of victors, and knowing she was tasked with taking care of their tributes was pretty meaningful. Though, given the reality of the games, Cord knew it couldn't be all glamorous, not knowing whether the person she had gotten to know all of those weeks would ever come back.

Even if they did, there must be battle scars deeper than those visible to the eye.

"I don't know that my articles would ever measure up to what you do. It's commendable. Must be tough but you seem to have a nice disposition about it all," he smiled, glancing over at her. Cord was pretty impressed by her, given he had no expectations coming in, but even if he had he was certain he would feel the same.

The man then led them towards the coffee shop doors and pulled one open for her, letting the smell of freshly ground beans and baked pastries roll out onto the street. He loved living here. He couldn't imagine any other life.