"if i'm a ghost
then so are you"
Emerald Colter hasn't known peace at any time in her life; and with her reaping comes a chance for her to finally make her mother proud of her. Only, when she returns home, everything remains the same and...
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Emerald's mother had demanded her presence the following morning, banging so harshly on her door that the girl woke in a panicked state. In reality, the thing she was needed for, wasn't anything of importance anyway. The woman had woken in severe pain, unable to head down to work for the day, and she'd insisted that her daughter go instead. For some reason, even with their lifetime supply of riches, Jewel wanted to work.
As weeks go by though, it's more like the Victor is doing the work, every couple of days she has to go in and do some of the textile work in the factories. So, here she is, allowing the gentle hum of one of the many sewing machines to bring her an odd sense of peace. People work around her, chatting amongst themselves as the Peacekeepers make themselves comfortable at the doors. They aren't allowed to leave until lunch break, and anybody who tries is punished with force.
There's a few light cuts etched into the skin of her hand, a few things managing to distract her during her shift. Loud noises still have an adverse affect on her, and the slightest of bangs is enough to divert her attention. She would rather it cut up her skin than have the outfit be a disaster, wasting materials is a terrible sin in the factories. Emerald would be worse off if she ruined the clothes, she's seen it happen to others during her time here.
"Emerald,"
The familiar voice travels towards her, the young brunette turning to see Phoenix standing there with his hands on his hips. She may have said that Tye was the most dramatic person she's ever met, but Phoenix Carter is most definitely a close second place. For somebody who grew up in District Eight, he most certainly has picked up on many of the Capitol's mannerisms — he has been a mentor for twenty years at this point, so it makes sense.
"Hey," Emerald responds, returning her attention to sewing the clothes. The man pulls a face and walks over, placing his hand on the younger girl's shoulder. "Is something wrong?"
"What are you doing here?" Phoenix questions, clearly not happy with the predicament. She gestures to the work in front of her. "Yes, I know you're sewing, but why? This isn't your job, Em,"
"Mother wasn't feeling to great this morning and she asked me to step in for her,"
"Asked or demanded?"
Emerald's lack of response is all he needs, clearly used to the treatment the girl receives from her only parental figure. Since returning home, he has been on her case about standing up for herself but it's never that simple. Even with her abusive tendencies, Emerald cannot bring herself to abandon the woman who had given birth to her — she's the only family she has left.
"Em, don't let her do this to you. You're a Victor, you're supposed to throwing your cash around and doing hobbies you enjoy," Phoenix speaks gently, more gentle then she's ever heard him.
