Blue shadows and unknown lands {open!}

Relentless cold drizzle made the misty day even grayer. Charlie walked through the fairly empty streets, clutching her faded teal drawstring bag across her shoulder, and in one hand a strong stick she had found. Her long brown hair knotted up in a loose bun. Looking around cautiously she examined district 8. She had seen little parts of it on t.v when the games had been shown, but truly it was vastly different than district 10. District 10 had large fields filled with horses and cows and sheep and goats and donkeys and numerous other livestalk. Sure things there hadn't been all sunshine and peaches, but there was room to breathe when you were out working. Here you left cramped houses to go and work in cramped factories inside smoky stuffy buildings. Charlie's brown eyes looked from building to grey building as she thought and walked the lonely street.

Yes her objective was to search around with out being found out quiet yet. Being found meant questions, and it was down hill from there. Not a hill she wanted to cross defiantly. She assumed most would be at work and inside by the looks of this grey day, best chance of not finding any one. She did need to find a place so stay of course, maybe a welcoming family open to a "rebel" of course she wasn't officially calling herself that, her issue was with her family and her government, not so much charging a battle field for her district, but what ever she was branded, she needed a place to stay...or food atleast.

As Streebell walked along the narrow alleyway between two concrete buildings, she tightened the tied-up bandage around her bloody arm.

"There," she said securing the dressing with an extra knot, "I think that's all of them. All the cuts are nice and wrapped up." she said wth a slightly upbeat tone, trying to calm Hazon. . . . It didn't work.

"I can't believe the guy actually pulled a knife on you." he vented. "How stupid do you have to be to try that kind of stuff in the middle of a round? I mean, everyone knows that one of the most important rules is, 'No Weapons'. At least they were serious enough about enforcing that rule and disqualified him before you got really sliced up. By the way, there's one on your back," So that's what that sharp stinging feeling was. "But I don't really think you can do much for that except wash it. Unless, of course, you want to rock a massive torso bandage wrap. I think you could pull it off."

"Please Haze, I can pull anything off." Glad that he was begining to be in a better mood, she smiled and made her best attempt at a confident strut down the alleyway. She began nearing the mouth of the small space when she saw it, or her. It was a girl around Streebell's age. She wore strange, worn-out, tattered clothes and a bun on the nape of her neck that looked like it would fall out any second. She was walking down the street alone and had a slightly cautious look about her. It sort of seemed like she was looking for something. But that wasn't what interested her the most about this girl. She was new. Streebell knew everyone in District 8 or at least had seen their faces. Not this girl. She was completely and totally unknown to her, a stranger. How?

"Quit being such a stalker." Hazon whispered over my shoulder. "She looks lost. Go help her, Streeb."

"Why don't you? You're supposed to be the gentleman here."

"Oh, sure. And while I'm at it, maybe you could go check the date on chivalry's tomb stone 'cuz I'm pretty sure it's been gone for a while."

Streebell rolled her eyes and delivered her compromise, "We'll both help her. C'mon, oh courteous one."

"After you, I insist."

They stepped out onto the street and began walking toward the strange new girl where she had begun to pass them by in the midst of their arguing. Streebell called out to her, "Hey!"

Her heart jumped. She hadn't expected any one, she was lost in her own thoughts supposedly alone. She froze mid step, but only for a second, she turned quickly to face the owner of the voice. What would happen? Should she run? Yes, probably, she should most definitely run, but why wasn't she? Saving her insanity for another time? Or just to tired? Whatever compelled her she stay put.

She looked at the girl who had called out to her. She was definitely not a peace keeper, and with that she let out a sigh of momentary relief. She was her age, short hair, and a bloody bandage around her arm Geez, didn't expect things this rough around here, just factory workers after all... her thoughts ringing in her mind. She also had an elusive companion, the boy seemed well enough so she humored them. Walking carefully and as quietly as she could she approached the haggled pair.

"Yes?" she said carefully and eying them cautiously with her brown eyes slightly squinted.

"This chick is gonna cramp our style. . ." Hazon thought idly as he watched the strange girl jump half a mile into the air at the sound of Streebell's voice. "She's like a jumpy little sugar glider or something." He continued to mull over in his brain why he had even thought they should help her out in the first place. Perhaps it was because he had always had a soft spot for helpless people. After all, he'd been there himself.

Streebell walked toward the girl slowly with her hands up, palms forward as if trying to convey a "We're not going to hurt you" message. Hazon had noticed the girl eying Streebell's battle scars earlier. Did she think they were dangerous? . . . Cool. He smiled to himself as this thought occured to him.

"Hey, it's alright. We won't mug you or something." Streebell reassured the girl who was beginning to slowly back away from them. "We just wanted to see if you needed any help. You look kind of lost." The stranger stopped her retreat and just stared at them with careful eyes.

"You're not from District 8." There was not even a hint of a question in Hazon's voice as he said this. He locked eyes with the mystery girl. "I can see why you'd be mindful of people you don't know. But we have to ask: Who are you, and why are you here?"

((gidgit!))

The two continued to approach her continually trying to re assure her they weren't dangerous. She decided to talk with them, but one wrong move and she would either a) Hit them with her stick or b) whistle, calling her dog, Anubis, who was no lap dog when it came to protection. Right now he was frolicking around sniffing buildings and plants, this was also new to him from being also raised on a farm, Belgian Shepherds are great cattle dogs, but even better protectors.

The boy finally spoke to her "Your not from district 8" he said calmly
Damn! she thought, was it that obvious? She would really need to work on her disguise.
He wanted to know who she was and why she was here, yah fat chance she thought with a smirk.

"Who are you then? And why are you two out when ever one else is...in?" She asked taking a tighter grip on her stick, yah not much by way of weapon but if you know how to use it....
Charlie snapped back into reality, these people were curious, but she wasn't sure she couldn't entirely NOT trust them. True they were not from her district, true they were scarred and one was bleeding, but they were out doing something Charlie guessed wasn't exactly legal, and they shared common ground in that. She took a few steps in approach, quickly looking behind her, making sure no ambush was coming.

Streebell looked at Hazon, then back at the wary newcomer. What was he doing? I mean sure, it was as obvious as day that she wasn't from District 8, but what was he trying to do? Scare her? Well, from the looks of the large wooden staff tightly gripped in her hand and the determined cadence she wore, the last thing she could be was scared. She looked like she would charge at any moment. Yet another indicator that this girl was not from 8. In this District, especially this part of it, Streebell's and Hazon's reputation was well known among the locals. And so was the fact that no one messed with them.

"Fine, we don't have any problems telling people who illegally invade our land who we are," Streebell responded curtly, "We're not all secretive like some strangers who have no right to be demanding to know us before they even tell us who they are in our own home. My name is Streebell, and this is my associate, Hazon. We live here, and these wounds," Streebell held out her arm and turned to expose her cut and bloody back coverd by a ripped up T-shirt then turned back around, "are from fighting, in case you were wondering." Of course she was wondering. She had been staring at her bandaged arm ever since she saw the two of them.

"Associate? Really?" Hazon stared at her with sarcastic look.

"Shut up, lacky." Streebell chuckled as the expression on Hazon's face shifted from sarcastic to a warning.

"Lacky my-"

"Alright," Streebell looked back at the girl, serious again, "We told you who we are, now it's your turn."

Charlie raised an eyebrow at the girl, she was quiet abrupt, but at least she wasn't trying to hide anything. She looked from the girl, or Streebell as it was, to Hazon. And to be perfectly honest herself she wasn't expecting them to talk, just walk away hopefully, but alas it was not so. She let out a quick sigh, what did she have to fear from them, not a beating cause they would have done so already and she didn't have anything for them to take, and they didn't seem the type to squeal so...

"I'm Charlotte, Charlie. Here for er...money reasons, District 10 doesn't treat its lower class citizens very well, they just need them to watch the cows not haul anything, so beatings are not out of the question when you cant get bills paid." That was as honest as she could be
"And this-" she let out a shrill whistle and Anubis came bounding from an ally somewhere "-is Anubis, my best friend." she finished with a rub of the black dogs head. He was panting slightly with his pink tongue hanging out the side of his mouth looking up at her fondly, and she couldn't help but smile alittle.

She cleared her throat slightly coming back to the situation and looking up at the two, so now what? Where they just going to leave? Help her? Or just punch her in the face? Or worse, ask more questions. They could do Q and A all day and be the best of chums, but Charlie had work to do, or find atleast. Or even better, food!

Hazon stared down at the dark furry mass before him and then back at Charlie. So they were from 10, huh? No wonder she seemed so disorientated earlier. She's probably never been in any sort of industrialized area in her life. As he thought about asking her how she even got here, he realized 1) that it would probably be a cold day in hell when she would ever answer a question like that at all, and 2) that she was an outsider here. A foreigner. Someone who needed food and and water and a place to stay. . . . And if she wanted it, Hazon and Streebell were all she had. Unless she had some misplaced desire to take up her cause with some other locals.

"This could work to our advantage . . ." Hazon considered impishly, "She needs us, so she'd have to give us something in return. But what?"

"Say, newbie?" said Hazon, "What are you good for? I mean, other than watching the cows and getting beaten of course."

Streebell stared him down with an angry scowl. Oh, yes. She knew exactly what he was getting at. She knew that they would have to help her and she knew Hazon would only agree if it meant they got something out of it. Hazon returned her sour look with his almost imperceptable smile that can only be described as the expression children get on their face when they know they've done something bad and they're proud of it. Only his held a bit more evil in it.

((If you have no idea what kind of expression I'm talking about, look at the avatar. It's that smile.))

((Haha! Yup the avvie gives an avid depiction of what you just described!))

Charlie gave the boy a queer look, he was up to something. What was she good for? What was he a slave trader? she thought and shifted her weight slightly as she thought of the best answer.

"Well..." she started looking down alittle, then looking back up as she found her words.
"Not only watching cows, but riding horses and training them, that was our main job. But that is not applicable here so...I-well we, were pick pockets or con-artists if you will. We were masters of eh...nicking things, it how we made our way." she gave him a sharp look at the end, she wasn't a low life scum bag, she wouldn't have done it if they hadn't needed it to get by, and she was grateful of the skills she had picked up from her work. She was light on her feet, quick, and silent, and had perfected her adorable face, just to name a few.
"In regards to the getting beaten I held my own fairly well I'll have you know, no honor amongst thieves and such so every other day you have to dodge getting knifed or clubbed, or even stolen from your self. They learned not to mess with little Charlie to much, or Anubis." she added, Anubis had saved her once or twice, well at least 4 times. She had saved him and he was devoted, they worked as a team. Like in the fields, a smile flickered across her face as she thought of the sunny times in the meadow with her father. But not now, now she had to get her job done.

Once again she looked up at Hazon and over to Streebell, she Charlie new looked ok, but it was the boy she had yet to be convinced. Of course what boy could be trusted?

When Charlie had finished her little speech, Hazon stared at her for a few seconds . . . . and then burst out laughing uncontrollably. Even Streebell had to admit, she did let out a small chuckle.

"That's rich!" Hazon gasped, "You, defending yourself!?" More laughter. Streebell gave him a warning look, which he ignored. "You've got to be the most scared, smallest, weakest, most adorable little excuse for a fighter I've ever seen in my life!"

"Okay, now you're pushing it a little too far, Haze." Streebell snapped under her breath.

Hazon continued laughing, "I mean, really, if you and the pup are such great fighters, why didn't you just handle your problems in your District on your own instead of running from them?!"

SMACK!!!

Hazon retracted as the shock and sting of the back of Streebell's hand hitting his cheek slowly subsided. He glowered at her with the most menacing expression he could muster.

"You deserve it, you jerk." Streebell directed the thought toward Hazon even though he couldn't hear it, he understood.

Streebell turned to Charlie, with a sweet smile in place. "Please excuse my friend. Sometimes he just doesn't know when to quit, or where to start for that matter. He's usually not good with meeting new people. Can't trust 'em, ya know? Sometimes with us fighters, only a good smack in the face will sober us up. And, to say he's sorry, Hazon would love to offer you place to stay with us while you're here, right Haze?"

Streebell had to admit that she was half doing this to see the discomfort it brought Hazon to apologize to someone. So she had to force back her smile when he grumbled, "Whatever."

"Good," Streebell said approvingly. "Now, tell her you're sorry."

"No way!" He yelled.

"Hazon . . . . Please?" Streebell pulled out her best "make Hazon melt" face. He resented that irresistable face's uncanny ability to make him do whatever Streebell wanted.

"Ugh! Fine! I'm sorry!"

"Sorry for what?"

"Don't push it, Rosling."

Charlotte frowned as they laughed at her Fine don't believe me, but I'll kick your butt if you try to rip me off she thought. She was in no mood to argue, if they didn't believe her that was their mistake. She was grateful when she was offered a place to stay and a place to eat. And was happy she had er "Sobered him up" when she did. She made no comment on her abilities but before she accepted any help from Hazon he did need to under stand one thing.

"Understand this Hazon, fighting wouldn't have gotten me any where with the District, it doesn't get you money enough to pay for medication and food and clothes and water. You can't 'fight' the district, not by yourself, and not if its for money or medication or a job, not if your brother is dieing, another is constantly coming home bruised beaten and bloodied because they corner him with 5 to 1, and not when the oldest can't deal because he works all the time and is sure to pass out from exhaustion. It was my job not to 'run-away' but to seek work or another means of money, or a cure or something. And if I don't come back, it will be one less mouth to feed. Never-ever-ever question my motives." her voice stayed low and quiet, it wasn;t quite hostile, but that made it all the more impacting. She finished with a sharp look at the boy, Idiot, jerk, stuck up, and big headed. she concluded was her definition of him. The girl she hadn't minded, though she laughed it wasn't a big deal, she got that alot, and she slapped him so brownie points for her.

Charlie cleared her throat and her gaze softened, they were after all giving her a place to stay and she was truly grateful, though she decided she wouldn't have many words with Hazon for a bit.

With a moments pause she came up next to them, "Um I hate to ask this but, could we find some food I haven't eaten since yesterday morning." a light smile played on her face as she said this, her stomach had been growling like a thunder storm.

Hazon felt put in his place, well, as much as he ever could be. But, she should have just said all that from the beginning! Maybe if she weren't so freakin' secretive all the time, a guy could actually get to know her and she's going through! And it's not like she's the only one. We all have crap that we have to go through. What are we all supposed to do about it? We tried to . . . years ago. Look where that's gotten us! People just have to suck it up and get by. If they can't, well then all their suffering is over soon enough . . . .

((ok I don't really know what to say to this, as good as it was, cause he didn't say or do anything that Charlie can react to soooo yah....))

Streebell stared at Charlie for a long time after she had unloaded all that information on them. She felt sad for her. For herself. For Hazon. For everyone. Because of the Capitol, this is what they all have to go through every day . . . . and more, once every year. When Charlie approached them and asked about food with a small smile, Streebell was brought back out of the darkness of her thoughts and couldn't help smiling back at the deceptively brave yet still slightly quirky and innocent girl before her.

"Sure," she replied. "Let us show you to our abode."

Streebell looked back at Hazon, who had his unfocused, faraway gaze set on the ground. A severe cadence hung on his face. He was deep in thought, Streebell could only imagine about what. She walked toward him and put her hand on his shoulder. He slowly looked up at her, with a slight glint of sadness in his eyes. She smiled gently at him.

"Let's go, Haze." She said.

He returned her smile and Streebell removed her hand from his shoulder and started walking in the opposite diection of where they had been facing. Hazon turned to Charlie.

"Hitch up your horse, there, Cowgirl," he called, "We gotta get a move on if we're gonna beat the cattle drive coming in on the way." Streebell watched as he turned to follow her, and to hide the smile that spread across his face at his own cheesey joke.

((Yeah, that's because I was writing a post when you posted your post!!!))

((Well Neh! XD))

Charlie nodded, slightly rolling her eyes at the cow girl mark, she was to be shown to their "Abode". This had made her smirk. As she walked along Anubis followed in a slow silent trotting persuite, tongue still hanging out panting, whatever he had done took a lot out of him. He was probably as hungry as she was, he had been running around and investigating various nooks and crannies. Now he padded softly by her side. She was still weary of Hazon, but she figured she could watch out for herself, she always had.

((I know this is horridly short, but I have nothing else!))

"Well, here we are." Hazon said, slipping off his jacket and tossing it on the ragged worn out sofa that currently served as his bed. Might not be HIS bed for much longer since, apparently, he was now running a house for charity cases and their flea-bag mutts. Come to think of it, that mutt was starting to eyeball and sniff the couch like he was getting the sense it was already his. Oh, he better not steal it.

It wasn't until that moment that he regretted giving Streebell the one bedroom they had in their tiny, cramped, run-down appartment. If you could even call it that. It was more like a room that had a counter with a sink and a stove on the far wall with some cabinets above that, a three-person couch squished against the east wall with the TV that was a mandatory fixture in all homes in front of it, and finally, on the west wall, there were two doors. One of them led to Streebell's room, which had no room for anything in it but a twin bed and a suitcase that held all of Streebell's things. The other one was the bathroom door which was maybe three by three feet, not including the one and a half by one and a half foot shower that was separated from the rest of the bathroom by only a shower curtain. There was no sink. Hazon and Streebell only used the shower to wash.

Streebell went to the cabinet above the counter and pulled out a can of soup and a cooking pan. "Chicken noodle okay for dinner?" she called behind her. Hazon nodded and looked behind him for Charlie's approval. She nodded as well, sort of distracted as she looked around the place for the first time. Hazon looked over to watch her dog (he had already forgotten its name) as it jumped onto his couch and began clawing at the already torn fabric to make its bed.

"Hey!" Hazon yelled as he went for the dog and grabbed it by the nape of the neck to pull it off the the only piece of furniture in the house. The dog growled but jumped down. As soon as Hazon let go, the dog jumped up again and laid down. "Ugh!" Hazon grabbed him again to repeat the struggle. The was a bit more effort put into it but Hazon eventually got the dog on the ground again and was careful this time to lay down, taking up all the space on the sofa before letting go again. The dog looked at him for a bit and Hazon smirked at him like he had won. The dog jumped up on top of Hazon's stomach. Hazon made a sound like he had just been punched in the stomach when he wasn't ready, which was rare, and then pushed the dog off of him.

Streebell had taken a break from stirring the soup to clutch her stomach to try and stop it from hurting so bad as result of the hysterical laughter that now consumed her. Hazon's face turned red with a mixture of anger and embarressment. He looked at Charlie and jabbed a finger at the dog, fuming, "You keep that thing under control or I'll throw it out on the street!"

Hazon rolled over onto his stomach and hid his face in a pillow to avoid looking at either Charlie or Streebell. How humiliating!

((Sorry it took me just a bit longer than usual to post again. Would it help if I said I have been working on this for months and that's why a I haven't posted since then? ))

When the tears had stopped running down Streebell's cheeks from her fit of uncontrolable laughter, she looked up and saw Hazon's face burried in a pillow. What was with him? It's not like this was the first time either of them had ever laughed at the other one's expense. What was so different about it now? The only thing was that Charlie was here . . . Oh my God!!!!!

Streebell quickly turned back to stirring the soup to hide the wide smile that was rapidly spreading across her face. Hazon didn't want to be embaressed in front of Charlie because he cared about what Charlie thought of him! Streebell had to keep from giggling uncontrolably as she began to think how it all made sense now. The way Hazon constantly teased Charlie, how he was so rude to her, the reason he was so mortified now. His behavior and the way he showed his feelings was beyond juvenile, she had to admit. But still!

Streebell grabbed four bowls out of the cabinet and began pouring the soup, her expression now a carefully composed mask. The more she thought about it, the more hilariously cute they seemed together. It was like her own private joke. She took a bowl to Charlie and handed her a spoon. It was the only one they had, but her and Hazon never used utensils anyway. She set a bowl on the floor for Anubis, then set Hazon's bowl on his back. Might be a bit tricky for him to get, but that's his problem. . . Maybe Charlie could help him. It took everything she had not to break the mask of compsure and laugh at her own internal joke. She put her bowl up to her lips to hide her smirk.

She looked at Charlie, "So, we should probably figure out sleeping arrangements." Streebell spoke inbetween sips. "There's no way I'm letting you sleep anywhere but the bed. I'm sure Hazon doesn't mind giving up the couch so I can sleep there." Streebell chuckled, already expecting Hazon's response to that.

Hazon looked up and glared at Streebell. "No! No way!"

Streebell put on her best puppy dog eyes and sighed, pretending to give up. "Fine. I'll just sleep on the floor with Anubis, I guess." Streebell put her head down and turned to face away from Hazon, and looked up at Charlie. Streebell smiled at her and mouthed, "Three, two, one."

"I hate you." Streebell turned to watch Hazon reach behind him and grab his bowl. She grabbed it and helped him make sure it didn't tip over. When he got up, she smiled and said, "I hate you, too!" Then she plopped down on the couch.

Charlie only smiled as Hazon fought with Anubis for the couch, Fine she thought with a smirk He deserves it. Charlie nodded at the question, anything would be good now she wasn't picky. She gently called Anubis over to her with his bowl and hers. She took a seat on the floor next to the great black dog as he lay with his head to the bowl lapping up his dinner. She smiled as she began so slurp her meal, she liked Streebell, she and Hazon...well ok just her, had made her feel welcome. Well, as welcome as you can feel when it seems the entire world is out to get you, to take everything that matters and then still demand more. Her eyes flickered down to her soup and lightly moved her spoon around in the bowl, she knew so many that would give you their house to have this, simply because you can't eat a house. She sniffed and diverted her eyes from her guilt meal, no she wouldn't think of that just yet, she must sleep. But even then she knew the thoughts would creep in while she lay there in the dark.

Sighing she joined the conversation.
"I don't mind sharing the carpet with Anubis, I'm used to a crowded house. Three brothers and a sister in-law, you get used to less than satisfactory elbow-room." Though she figured Streebell wasn't going to let her...

Charlie gently ran her hand through Anubis's thick black fur, he looked up at her then back to his soup, he was so simple, loyalty, friendship, food and love, that was all he needed, that was all he was. Charlie wished she could be like that, wished the world could be like that, but some selfish idiot decided it wasn't enough and began taking, and left the rest to sort it all out. Charlie's brown eyes softly looked him over, then to Hazon and Streebell, they were like her. So unfortunately thrown into this world they have to scramble so hard to survive in, the were the fighters, the real warriors. To bad the world didn't see them that way.

Hazon sat down on the floor next to Charlie and Anubis. Streebell was preoccupied with her bowl of soup, so she didn't respond to Charlie's conjecture right away.

Hazon leaned over to Charlie and said in a low voice, "You already know what her answer is gonna be."

"Hazon's right, Charlie," said Streebell, putting her bowl in the sink. "Do I look like someone who takes no for an answer?" She pretended to be hurt by Charlie's supposed assumption. Hazon rolled his eyes. This was classic Streebell. Overly generous, overly dramatic, way too perky of a person all together. How could she still be so genuinely happy after everything she's been through, after everything everyone's been through? That's just who she was. It may have been a bit annoying at times, but Hazon wouldn't have had it any other way. She was like a sister to him and she was his best friend.

"Well, it's settled then." Streebell announced. "You're sleeping in the bedroom. Anubis can even sleep in the bed with you, if you like."

"Aw, come on," Hazon complained, "If I have to sleep on the floor, I should at least be able to use the mutt as a pillow." Hazon looked across Charlie at Anubis. The dog stared back at him with his big dark eyes and perked his ears up.

If I have to suffer through a couple nights on the floor, so do you. You're a freaking dog.

Charlie laughed and patted Anubis, she knew he would be fine on the floor. She was thankful for their generosity, Anubis should be also. Getting up and stretching she walked over to the sink with Streebell, before she put it in though she called Anubis and set her bowl on the floor for him to lick clean. Turning to lean back on the edge of the sink she complied with Hazon's complaint

"Anubis can sleep on the floor with you, he's a grown dog." She picked up the now clean but slightly slobbery bowl and rinsed it in the sink. As she did this she glanced at Streebell then to Hazon

"So, a fight club? Does it pay better than the factory or do you guys have issues with authority?" a playful smile danced across her face as she turned back around to lean on the sink again, arms crossed, eye brow raised. She had spilled enough of her beans out side earlier, it was their turn. Anubis got up and sat on alert at Charlie's feet, tail swishing across the floor.

Oh, God. Streebell looked over at Hazon. He put down his head and looked away from her, refusing to meet her or Charlie's eyes. After all this time, one of Hazon's biggest burdens was the very reason he didn't want to answer Charlie's question about why he wasn't working at the factory.

Streebell avoided that part of her question and went for the easier part. "Fighting is what we do. We're good at it because we love it, and we love it because we're good at it." Streebell smiled and continued, "This one here taught me everything I know. He was in the game first, then he picked me up and we've been an unstoppable, not to mention unbeatable, team ever since. As for the pay, it depends on how much people bet on our fights. I usually rake in more dough from my matches 'cuz no one expects a little girl to beat all the big boys, so they bet against me. . . . But they're always wrong." Streebell's smile turned impish, and playful. "When I'm done with 'em, those losers leave the ring reeking of pit sweat and humiliation. So, ya see, the reason I don't work at the factory is because I just don't want to. And . . . the reason Hazon doesn't . . ." She took another glance over her shoulder at him. He was laying on the floor, pretending to sleep. "Well, maybe you could ask him yourself sometime."

Streebell patted Charlie's shoulder and walked towards the couch. She laid down and reached underneath the sofa for a blanket and pulled it over herself.

"Goodnight, Charlie." she called.

Fighters, nice. Charlie never enjoyed fighting, it was always to get away with your money with most of your face, enjoyment was certainly the least of her thoughts when a teen 3 times bigger than you swings a bat at you head wanting your cash and you have 3 seconds to move or hit. Yah, not fun. But what-ever got you through the day.

Interesting she thought and turned to Hazon, his turn.

"Night Streebell." she said in reply, but her brown eyes never left Hazon, she was going to get an answer. She let her hand fall down onto Anubis's head and stroked him lightly, watching Hazon's every move.

"So, enlighten me." She enticed her mouth curving into a sly smile. It was not every day she got to play interrogator. Normally she would have just let it go, people have a right to their reasons and Charlie didn't have to know, but hey she was going to live with this guy for a bit, you need to know your in-mates after all.

Why me? Why her? Just . . . Why? Hazon's back was to Charlie when she had asked her question. He looked behind him over his shoulder to see a pair of interested and quizzical large brown eyes staring at him, waiting. He turned his head back to face away from her, but sat up and sighed.

Why should he even try to explain this to her? She wouldn't understand. She kept saying how she had this big family that she had to feed. She had a family. Even if she had to struggle to keep them alive, she had them. Hazon didn't. Not anymore.

Still, the only person he could ever talk to about this stuff was Streebell. And she was . . . laying on the couch, two feet away, sawing logs.

He sighed and turned his body to face Charlie. Anubis walked up and sat faithfully next to Charlie. His eyes attentive, his ears perked.

"You want to get the whole life story, too, huh?" Hazon would have chuckled in that moment if he didn't feel so horrible. Because just then, as they were both waiting for Hazon to begin, Charlie and Anubis looked almost exactly alike. Their faces held all the same signs of curiosity and patient expectancy.

"My parents," he dove in, "They were all I ever had. I didn't have any siblings like you. My mom and dad were everything to me. But they died in a fire that started in the factory where they worked when I was a kid." Hazon put his head down so she couldn't see the moisture building up in his eyes. "Usually, the daily routine was that I would get home from school, then, two hours later, they would be home from work. But they didn't come home that day. I figured they would be there soon so I waited for another hour. That's when I decided to go to the factory. . . There was smoke everywhere. It covered the whole building and then crawled up into the sky." Anger seeped into Hazon's voice as he uttered the next sentence. "I was trying to ask what was going on and where my parents were, but everyone was rushing around, pretending they were too busy to answer me." For whatever reason, Hazon looked up at Charlie again just as a tear rolled down his cheek, his eyes boring into hers. "No one would answer me," he repeated.

He continued to stare so deep into her eyes that it could have touched her soul, and his voice was filled with the blackest kind of sorrow when he muttered, "No one cared that my life was burned alive in that building."

((Hazon who is your portrayer?))

Charlie bit her lip. Yikes she kinda jumped head first into icy water here. She caught her breath as he had looked at her, they were no longer languid and playful the looked of pain and anger as he remembered his story. Anubis seemed to sense it as well, he lay down resting his head on the floor, eyes gazing sorrowfully up at Hazon.

At first Charlie tried to speak, her own voice caught in her throat, eyes searching his face. She closed her mouth and swallowed before she started

"We are not so different then." she said softly, his story had brought back the images of her own. She knew exactly how that had felt. Her own house had caught up in flames, her father trapped inside. Charlie had been there, she had seen the sparks from a cart's break catch the hay just outside their house that had been set out to dry. It was almost surreal as she returned home from the small market with bread and cheese, she almost watched in slow motion the flames catch the hay, then climb their house and engulf the thatched roof. She had cried out, dropped every thing, and ran to the house. The door was locked, the key they kept under the hay now in flames. She ran to their water trough, but none came out, the government had turned it off in this dry spell. Her heart began to race as it had all those years ago. Before she knew it the roof caved, sending millions of sparks and smoke stinging her face and eyes. She had called out for help, any one, some one, no one came.

Blinking she saw her hand had balled into a fist, she let out a shaky sigh, she had thought she was over this, she had been any way. Her eyes flickered up to meet Hazon's

"My Father died in a fire as well, leaving just my brothers and I. I know the feeling." That was all she could say, she stopped before she choked up. Bringing her hand to her face she pushed back a few stray strands and a smile flickered across her face.

"At least we know what it means to fight for your life, we are more...tenacious."

Hazon let out a dark chuckle. Tenacious. Interesting way to describe what they were, what their hardships had made them. But, not entirely inaccurate. One could say each of them had been through enough to enable themselves to be prepared for any of life's hardships and then some.

"We tenacious folks gotta stick together, right?" Hazon kept his eyes on Charlie and let out a sigh. He looked at Anubis and reached over to grab his back side and pulled it towards himself so that Anubis's body was perpendicular to his own. Then he laid down on the floor and positioned his head on the dog's back.

He looked up at Charlie. "So, you're the one that wanted to come to this district. What're you going to do tomorrow?"

((I have no idea.))