FIN - JUDIS ARRIVAY | DISTRICT 12

Blue jeans, white shirt
Walked into the room you know you made my eyes burn
It was like, James Dean, for sure
You're so fresh to death and sick as ca-cancer

NAME: Judis Carlotta Arrivay
GENDER: Female
AGE: Forty-Two
DISTRICT: Twelve

I am a good person, I swear it to the highest power there is. Underneath this ever fading facade is the girl you knew before, Aslan. You must know this - you need to know this. My skin may be pockmarked and freckled from the morning sun, the wrinkles winning in their battle for domination against the smoothness of youth; my eyes, once clear and golden, may be bloodshot and dark, so so dark; my posture may have gone from as straight as a tree to as crooked as a willow. But there is more than that Aslan, you know this, you must. The wrinkles and battle scars on my hands tell far more stories and tales than you want to know. I have gone through so many things, for us, for you but I'm still the same person that you first met all those years ago.

She stands in front of the mirror, her golden eyes (truthfully they're a light brown but in the light one can almost say that they've been excavated from the underground, shining with malice and power) piercing the glass, fixated on every flaw and every fold in the skin, arch in the back, curl in the frown. The less I show of myself the stronger I become. She goes to the wardrobe, pulling on a sleek, form fitting dress that's dark dark as night dark as his voice when he vows to murder me in my sleep dark as the wicked witch that I must have become but no no it's too late to change now. All that I've worked for, all that I've lived in has been in the shadows, in the pitch-black darkness of black. She is still very fit, and from a distance one may almost believe that she is twenty-two or in her prime, her hourglass figure framed by the sunset that's shining through her window.

She doesn't put on makeup as she leaves the room, high heels as tall as her dreams click-clacking down the flight of stairs, echoing against the walls, ricocheting and drilling into her ears until the only thing she can hear is a cacophony of stomping, almost like an applause, almost like a jeering crowd with white-white flames. Judis (What a fitting name for a witch like me, hm Aslan? I still remember those books we found late one night in the warehouse we called our laboratory, dusty and in disrepair. Her tall frame (her father was right about one thing. It truly was survival of the fittest, the most intimidating won out against the others. Judis is no different, her 6'4" figure dominating with just one look) whisks across the street, cobblestone pavements echoing the noises her feet make. To some, the noise is a sign of terrible things to come. Aslan will soon know that firsthand.

The darkness doesn't envelop her, it complements her, with her skin as dark as ash and her twilight hair. She walks down the alley, heading towards the golden glow that lingers next to the pub. A manilla envelope in hand, she walks calmly, serene-like, almost. The man who she comes across isn't drunk, but scared, shaking in his boots. His five-foot stature hardly reaches her chest, and as she glances down at this man who is willing to do anything to appease her, she wonders if any of you truly with me? Or are you with Aslan and his so-called army? Do any of you even care? "Take this to the Peacekeepers, make sure you're not seen. I want this job done quickly - by tonight Sonmutt." He responds with a squeak and clambers off.

You were sorta punk rock, I grew up on hip-hop
But you fit me better than my favorite sweater, and I know
That love is mean, and love hurts
But I still remember that day we met in December, oh baby!

Judis [Judis is such a boring name, call me J. It makes it much cooler.] finds a bench in the graveyard after hours of wandering. Slowly she sits down, her shadow enveloping her mother's tomb - [Judex Arrivay, Died March 3rd in the Year of the 33rd Annual Hunger Games; Loving Wife and Mother. Forever Shall She Fly Amongst the Stars] - and she doesn't move. Is she furious? Is she bitter? Is she heartbroken? In despair in disrepair never to live the same again? Truly, Judis isn't even surprised that her confidant turned against her. I've been a fool and I've been blind. I can never leave the past behind. But that doesn't stop the rage from forming (Daddy always said that I was quick to anger, and it took a century for me to get over something). She feels - no, she is betrayed, and she's smart enough to know that anger is not the answer but her emotions often get the best of her in these types of situations (And I try so hard to think about what I'm doing beforehand but rarely does it ever truly work out).

She had to do this - I know I had to - in order to survive, in order to prevent her civilization from collapsing, in order for the people she feeds to live another day, for the wounded to get her medicine, for the sick to get better. He has to go, there's no other option. A part of her wants to see him, to gloat in his face because I won and there's nothing you can do about it now so you had best go quietly now but that's just her pride rearing its ugly head, her ambition getting the best of her. He was her best friend, her one-time-lover, her king in the land that they ruled together. And for the longest time it was glorious, the Winter Snowfalls ever lucrative, the population ever growing, the people ever happier.

That was the happiest time of her life, when they were smiling and giggling, eating chocolate in his room, wrapped in the blankets and in each other, when trust was all they knew, his porcelain skin resting against her own. And knowing that she will never get that back, Judis begins to weep, huddled against the cold, her coat not strong enough to withstand Winter's bite, Winter's grasp, Winter's dreams. It was too strong for us my dear, and we got swept up in its storm.

"Mother," she whispers, her voice rough and hollow. "I let you down, I'm sorry. I've done the thing you told me never to do and I'm not sure if I'll ever forgive myself." Her mother does reply - of course not, the dead can't respond - but the ground seems colder, the air seems shriller and crisper, snapping at her nose and nipping at her fingers. She feels cold, the ice having embedded itself deep in her heart, expanding her arteries to their breaking point. She knows that what she did is right wrong right but does it even matter at this point? It's for the greater good, I swear. Everything I do is for the greater good.

I will love you 'til the end of time
I would wait a million years
Promise you'll remember that you're mine
Baby can you see through the tears

They met on a summer day, the sweat beading down their foreheads as they stood, staring. The meadow was especially beautiful that day, speckled with yellow bursts of color swaying in the slight wind.

"I was here first."

"I called it first."

"No you didn't both parties have to be present for you to call it."

"Nuh uhhhh"

"Uh huhhhhh"

Their mothers watched as the two bickered, snickering to themselves how worked up ten year olds could get over the perfect spot for a picnic. Eventually the hammer was dropped and the four of them shared a blanket and food, lemonade clinking into mugs and turkey sandwiches (Mrs. Arrivay had bought the turkey off a poacher who stumbled into The Hob a few days prior) being gobbled with laughter and a smile.

"Judis is such a boring name, call me J. It makes it much cooler."

"Okay well then you have to call me something too."

"I'll call you Leo - your hair's all puffed up like a lion anyways."

The two were fast friends, often going to each others houses, poking sticks at each other, playing Peacekeepers & Robbers or Emergency Room or telling jokes by candlelight, snuggled up under a blanket fort. Yet as they grew their stories became more serious, their laughter less frequent. Their ambition had gotten a hold on them from an early age, inspiring them to excel in all things possible. Judis became fascinated with the human body, maladies, diseases, cures, medicine and aspired to someday become a doctor - maybe one day she would be transferred to another District, or maybe the Capitol in one of their fancy hospitals. For now she was stuck as the apothecary's intern, learning the tricks of the trade, of shoddy ancient remedies and makeshift syringes. "Every day is like a war zone," she would tell Leo.

When they were eighteen, still young, their ambition visible in the glint of their eyes, they stumbled across Winter. Judis knew the potential, put aside the danger, the consequences. This could help them reach their dreams, have power, help others - the world was at their fingertips, all they had to do was let it Snow. Perhaps it's fitting that Winter's reign reminded Judis of President Snow. The drug was powerful, addicting and expensive. When the apothecary finally retired and gave the reins to Judis, she was able to create a lab deep deep down in the catacombs of the District. Their underground kingdom began to flourish, citizens flocking to them by the vial. The entrance from the wardrobe was soon constructed to allow Leo to slip in and out of his home without his parents noticing, without them wondering where the extra money had come from, how they had become so well-off.

The Arrivays were not as easily fooled. "Judy, I don't know what you're doing. But promise me that you won't let this get out of hand." Yet no one complained as Judis moved her family out of their smaller home to one of the large, unoccupied mansions in the merchant-neighborhood, their blonde-haired blue-eyed neighbors looking out their windows anxiously as they moved in, Judis surveying the area, her expression unreadable. With the money that the duo had accumulated, Judis was able to order small shipments of medicine from District 6, to give food to the needy, to help others in the way that she had dreamt of since she was a young girl.

A decade into their partnership, this all changed as Leo suddenly broke off their romance, became cold and detached, wanting nothing to do with her or the company. "But this is ours Leo. You can't just walk away now, it's too big, too great for that. We have a responsibility to those that we're helping." She didn't know that he had tried Winter for the first time, had truly seen the horrible consequences for himself. She had already done so, witnessed what could only be described as a waking nightmare, tweaked the formula so only select dosages were given out, saving the screams for those who defied them. She never had a penchant for torture, for punishment, but the Machiavellian side of her had deemed it necessary long ago, to preserve the kingdom, to keep the District's head above sea level.

She heard whispers in the streets soon after he had married the girl with no ambition, the girl who was content to sit in her house with her husband and her 2.5 children and her white-picket fence. Aslan? Defying the one who had been his friend, his confidant, even his lover for so long? Rising against her, plotting to kill her, destroying the industry, destroying all that they had worked for? She couldn't let that happen, not when so many people were depending on her. Winter was evil, even she could see that it had gotten out of hand, but it was the lesser evil compared to what lay ahead - famine and destruction and death death death so much death with corpses in the streets and children whimpering beside their parents bodies - and it had to stay.

After that fateful day in the cemetery with her frozen hands and frozen heart, Judis made sure that no one would ever dare mock her, plot against her again. Her "confidants" doubled in size, her armory triple. She made sure that every secret passageway was accounted for - all except for one, in the wardrobe of the man whose life she had stripped away, the man who she could no longer speak of because doing so would hurt too much. Perhaps this was her mistake, her fatal flaw, the single breadcrumb left behind to lead the twins to the gingerbread house. Only this house was a dynasty, and one nibble of the facade could send it tumbling down.

But she would never let that happen.

Love you more
Than those bitches before
Say you'll remember, oh baby, say you'll remember
I will love you 'til the end of time

FACECLAIM: Viola Davis

SONG: Blue Jeans by Lana Del Rey

PASSWORD: odair

THE WITCH IN THE NARNIA PLOT