The Princess and The Owl // Johanna Mason x OC

Chapter 21 - Stupid Lump of Lumber-f*cking Sh*t

'It doesn't matter what it takes,' Athena thinks to herself as she gets back in the Peacekeeper transport, 'I will find her.'

The journey back to the centre of District 7 is long, bumpy and cold. Arriving back just before dawn, there's no time to rest. She had spent a few hours repairing Old Clary's furnace, before travelling further west to carry out a few, somewhat more 'official' tasks.

"There were mass riots in the west of the district, Commander," Lieutenant Buckingham informs her as soon as she steps foot in the Peacekeeper HQ. Buckingham is a tall, thinly-built woman with electric blue eyes. Despite being normally tied into a neat bun, her dead-straight, blue hair was loose today and deceptively long.

"Why?"

"They want pay rises and fewer hours. So, just the usual brain-dead unionist, ma'am," she states politely. It was always the west who thought that they had a real shot at forming some sort of left-wing society in a place like Panem. Foolishly hopeful, yet commendable, "And this time, many instigators didn't flee."

"Isn't this all work for Lieutenant Conway? The west is his precinct," Athena responds with merely the raise of an eyebrow. Her mind had slowed to a sluggishly tired amble, unable to focus on anything with meaning.

"Yes - and he's dealing with the majority of them right now - but among the rioters was an outsider," she begins, somewhat ambiguously. Leading the Commander through a winding route of the identical concrete corridors, they head towards the holding-cells, "She won't tell us why she was there. We believed that you may... have a better chance, Commander."

Buckingham seems almost anxious to explain, or fill in the details. The victor furrows her eyebrows as she continues the walk in silence, "What is her name?"

"She insists that her name is 'Ellis', but she... well, she just isn't," she mulls over her words in a sort of awkward tiptoe. But the name Ellis can mean only one thing: Johanna.

Rounding the corner and through an opened barred-door, they are faced with the woman she had sought so avidly for. Even in the feeble flicker of light that the bulb produces, it is easy to appreciate the change in her appearance. Notably more weather-beaten and nature-harrowed than before, her hair is cut into short, tuft-like spikes. Caked in a thick layer of half-dried mud, her boots are almost worn through completely.

Eyes sharply looking up, her once-blue iris appear now as a stormy grey, churning in a tyrant of uncontainably-swelling anger. Sunken and pale, her features appear to be chiselled away with a harsh blade. Cracked and blue, her lips are as unhealthily coloured as her skin.

"Leave us, Lieutenant," Athena mutters lowly, never taking her eyes off the unmoving shell of the person she once knew.

"Of course, Commander," Buckingham nods dutifully in her peripheries, backing away to the entrance, "Radio if you require anything, ma'am."

She pays no attention to the lieutenant as she leaves, only faintly hearing the click of the closing gate.

Arms folded against her chest, Athena holds the prolonged eye contact until her muscles begin to cramp. She lets out a slow breath, "You look like shit, Princess."

Her eyebrows furrow in irritance. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, Johanna glares up at her sharply, "And now I remember why I didn't want to see you."