paladin apollyon, district six | finished {cb}

In the absence of supportive parents, Paladin turned to her faith.

She wanted nothing to do with her father's narcissism, and she scorned her mother's relentless pursuit of perfection. Say this, wear that, go here, avoid there. Blah, blah, blah. The woman acted as if the girl and her siblings were performers in her circus, not her children. The constant directions were simply trying to lead Paladin to a place she had no interest in going. The fact of the matter, if you asked the only daughter of the Apollyon household, was that no one was perfect.

Paladin had her mother's fair face, and enough of her father's cleverness to get by in her studies, but none of those things meant that she was special. It was all just DNA and biological coding, things that she had no influence over. All around her, just past the white picket fence surrounding her family manor, she could see the disarray clinging to Six and its people. The suffering, and the uncertainty. Strives had been made against the Rose Plague, but there was still so much that had been lost in the wake of it.

In her free time, she enjoyed visiting the shelters to be with those displaced by the outbreak. She volunteered in soup kitchens, donated the majority of her clothes, read to the kids at the local library. Despite the beliefs of the people who raised her, a genius and a socialite, Paladin didn't believe she was "too good" for anyone. If someone needed help, regardless of whether or not they were a stranger, she would be there for them. That was the simplest of all the proverbs. Her heart was open to all, and she would share its song with the world.

Maybe one day she'd gain the conviction to confront the wrongdoings in her own home; the unfair expectations thrusted on Cleric as the eldest, and all the other seemingly impossible goals placed before them. But for now, she would focus her attention on mending the wounds farthest from the source of the bleeding.