checkin | I ♎ video

[the feed begins, showing a woman with red hair, fair skin, teal irises, and scarlet glasses, glaring so intensely at the camera you'd think she was trying to burn it with her eyes. she's absolutely unhappy with the current situation for several reasons, the first being--]

I am sure someone is viewing this, and who ever is should know where the hell I am. If this is supposed to be paradise for the dead, this is the poorest rendition of it I've ever seen. And trust me, I've heard of one with Faygo rivers and trees that grow special stardust. I believe I'd take that over this.

[even after their subtle betrayal, she'd take the damn clowns' idea of heaven, and all the clowns in it. at least then she'd be in her own body, and would understand so much more about it.]

The matter of where can be addressed with ease, as can the matter of why I'm here, how I was brought, and who did so. What I do not understand is the "what" of things. Particularly, what am I? Am I some sort of slug? A strange relative of the cholerbear? Is this what reincarnation really is? If it is, I think I would've been more content as a ghost.

[she gives a thoughtful pause, then softens slightly. her answers would come in due time. they always did. no need to be so upset... her gaze focuses back onto the camera, but this time it is not so harsh.]

If anyone has any information regarding any of my questions, please contact me as soon as possible. I am willing to work with anyone who has an idea of what is happening to me. [her calm facade shifts into something a bit more manic, a grin suddenly splitting her face.] And if anyone has any intelligence on the pirate, Marquise Spinneret Mindfang, please report it to me as well. [for what reasons? none that could be too good. before the feed ends, redglare winks, and offers few parting words:]

A good evening to you. Until we meet again.

[end feed.]

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Yeah. [ No distractions that way. and not a lot of emotional attachment to her parents, either. but that had been part of the intention. ]

[ she scowls a little at the implication that humans are soft. she'd agree that some people in the hotel had cushy lives at home, but her's was not. she likes to think that softness does not apply to her, but those who know her best understand that it's simply buried deep. ] I think that depends on who you ask. The truly powerful humans don't do the fighting themselves. They make others fight for them.

What do you mean, justice?

[that scowl gets her to smirk-- redglare really does appreciate the fight she's got in her. it makes for less condescension and more admiration.]

Who you ask? Will others argue that your planet was terribly harsh? I have a feeling that whoever tells me such has a different definition of "harsh". [did your sun have the ability to blind you with one glance towards it? no? how lucky. but she agrees with cashmere's sentiment about power. that much seemed to be universal.] Then what is true power, hmm? A question I've never found the answer to. But it appears our worlds are similar in that way. You fought, as did I, for someone else. [soldiers could be born from anyone.]

Justice? Is your dirt planet so comfortable you don't have crime? [now that much is a joke, and is said with a trace of a smile.] I mean I serve my empire as a legislacerator. I am the judge, the jury, and [said with a most wicked flash of teeth:] the executioner.

The planet isn't harsh. Humans are cruel. The planet is beautiful. [ at least the parts that weren't destroyed by previous generations.

and then she understands. well that is quite the job, isn't it? she's a little wide-eyed imagining that and is all at once quite glad no one's thought that up in Panem yet. ] You must be feared by many.

Beautiful. [it seems like an odd word, but her home was beautiful too. even in its terror, it was glorious. much more than the hotel could ever dream of being.] Tell me, what does your planet look like? [what was beauty to humans? perhaps the endless expanses of black oceans that held enormous terrors in their depths? or white lions stained in rainbow blood with multiple mouths and fangs for all of them? or perhaps trees so tall they scraped the clouds with bark so poisonous it could kill with a singular touch? what did these creatures find to be beautiful?

her explanation of her job painted quite the portrait, but her ideals did not match reality. there is a hint of shame that crosses redglare's face, but it is replaced with anger.] No. I am only feared by those who should not fear me. I am but a slave to Her Majesty, a toy for the Grand Highblood [something so much softer than bitterness reaches her face when she says his title.], and a joke to those who break the Empire's laws. [and she is dead because of it.] To be feared would be... marvellous.

It depends on where you live. My district is red rock desert and fields of grapevines that go on for miles. One of the districts has the ocean. I always liked that. [ specifically, she was jealous. but why split hairs? ]

I think people here would fear you.

The ocean is as beautiful as it is dangerous. But. Desert and grapevines... Incredible. Red, you said, and deep green as far as the eye can see. It must be quite a view. [she pauses, trying to imagine it, the colours wondrous in her mind's eye.] Did your planet have forests? [someone's a bit nostalgic...

and flattered, too.] I would like that, just a little bit. Respect would be welcome too, but I will take what I can get. [she smiles slyly, and laughs to herself.]

Yeah, Seven is almost all forests. I've seen it a few times. It's beautiful.

[ she smiles. Cashmere can appreciate a little fear and respect. ]