Apollo Salon {D9}

Name: Apollo Salon
Age: 18
Gender: Female
District: Nine

Fingers combed through the young Child’s flashing blonde locks, attempting to sooth her into slumber. But for Mother to be absent this late left only anxiety to stream through the Girl’s veins. Sleep was a comfort she refused to grant herself during moments like this. “You look just like her.” Father’s chuckle was scratchy and rough, because their stubbornness was also identical. Her heavy eyes gaze from him, a load of attitude controlling this gesture. As sincere as his compliment may be, it doesn’t bring Mother back home any faster. Until they were all safe, nothing else mattered.

“And just as hardheaded.” A sigh then joined his laugh, as he departs from tucking his Daughter into bed. Evidently there was nothing he could do to force her to sleep. “I better prepare before your Mother returns.” His words are purely out of reassurance, though he’s just as confident that she will be back soon.

Eventually the weight of staying awake becomes too unwieldy, and suddenly the silence overtakes the little one. She observes Mother in her reflection, along with the powerful essence she pertains. Friends, of both her parents, begin to chirp in her ears over how much she resembled her mother. If only they knew… Their facial features are unmistakably from the same genetic pool, and even her body is of a smaller version. But she wasn’t her Mother. Apollo strived to even compare, only to be constantly disappointed in herself. At the age of eleven, she pertained no grantee that she’d ever be nearly as strong.

Her Story is not one that she can complain over. Sure, Mother was constantly absent. But Father refused to ever leave their Offspring’s side. He solely taught her, to be them. Felt like every night Mother arrived home at the oddest hours, with a new Victim in need of their service. Every night Father did teach Apollo the craft of healing and medicine. She desperately tried to follow after her mother, to save people in another manner, but she continuously failed. Instead she successfully patched any injury, or dissipated every illness, only to discover that the Patients never stuck around.

Commotion startles her awake just as it always does. Has she ever awoken to a peaceful atmosphere? Yet it’s relief that results from this, knowing very well that Mother had returned. Her petite feet cause the wooden floor to creek under her light touch, as she scurries to witness what was occurring.

“Go back to bed Apollo.” Father instructs the second she has the door ajar only a sliver. Her eyes widen at his command, never hearing such a thing before. Her help was never denied.

The door doesn’t immediately shut. Rather she gazes over to Mother, baffled over what was happening. “No, she needs to learn.” Father’s demand is belittled by his Wife’s sharp tongue. Instantly Apollo listens though, retrieving to the scene at hand. Her tiny palms replace her Mother’s to lessen the blood spewing from the Stranger’s wound. “I have to go. The fight may still be occurring.” And even faster then her, her Mother’s gone once again.

“This is a bullet wound...” Apollo observes aloud, terrified by this information. Only Keepers have the firearms to generate this, and that’s the last opponent that they need. Panic shakes the small girl’s interior, though that doesn’t falter her from assisting in the least.

Usually Father’s rambling over the steps she must memories, but he’s silent. The danger Mother brought home is far more then a painful instinct. “Okay, I have the bullet.” Finally he speaks, allowing his daughter to recapture her breath. If he’s scared… “Now let’s sew him up, and get you back to bed.” The small Blonde nods her head vigorously, not daring to object to anything at this moment.

The silence is eerie and undesired. Mother & Father are supposed to be embracing at this time, celebrating their love that has impacted another successful mission. But it’s only the impaired breathing of the damaged guest that consumes the distant noises. Apollo’s bed remains cold in fear, as sleep refuses to hold her even if she begged for it to. Something horrible is approaching, and soon enough it actually does.

Chaos erupts before she even has a chance to respond. “No! You can’t take me!” Father’s voice pleas with an unknown intruder. Automatically Apollo is racing across her room and bursting open her door, to witness the men in white combating against her Father. “I was only trying to help him!” He’s physically & mentally battling for his freedom.

“You’re under arrest for harboring a criminal.” One of the Keepers inform, while the others lack any gentle nature in constraining him. When the Whites take someone, they’re rarely ever seen again. Great desperation consumes Apollo in her actions to follow.

Nails carve against the shiny armor, as Apollo fights against the ones attempting to restrain her Father. “No!” She screams at them, determined to evoke the power her Mother pertains. “He didn’t do anything!” But her strength is still incomparable. In one easy swoop she’s pushed a nice distance away, only to have her Father induced with adrenaline instead.

“Don’t touch her!” He demands with capacity Apollo’s never witnessed from him before. Mother was the muscle, not him. Either way he breaks past the sturdy Keepers, roaring with unimaginable fuel. His fists are slicing through the air, like they actually had a chance in escaping. Pride does consume his daughter though, until the ending consequence is shown to be unforgivable.

Boom.

Breathing becomes impossible for innocent Apollo. As the Life drained from her Father, she could feel her own fading. Warm blood rivers down his forehead, and the same sensation runs against her skin. He drops to his knees, at the same moment she does as well. One bullet was fired, but two souls were impaired.

“You’re not as strong as I hoped you’d be.” Seven years later, and her Mother’s words are still harming her. Mother was never seen again after Father was murdered, but what her opinion must be proceeds to linger. Strength is still not a gift that Apollo’s been granted, no matter how hard she wishes. New responsibilities rely on her, but occasionally she feels to be that weak little girl that she used to be.

Just like whenever Apollo’s cursed with a displeasing memory, she curls up against her Lover in bed. If it weren’t for Prometheus, sanity would continue to be missing. Years ago she discovered her walking tall among the school halls, with an assurance she could only pray to have. It took a while for Apollo to control her heart from pattering rapidly at the mere sight of her…okay, she still hasn’t…but the moment they were able to finally collide as one, she became inseparable from her. To her, there was just no denying that she had found her better half.

Together they had become as powerful as Apollo’s parents. They didn’t salvage injured adults on the run from the Panem, but rather innocent children that deserved a family. Their household grew exponentially, and Patients weren’t kicked out the second they were better. It didn’t take long for Apollo to realize that the true healing resided in the mental aspect, and required a lot more time. With Prometheus as her partner, it appears that anything is possible. She couldn’t save her Father, but she can still save so many others.

It’s difficult to swallow, but in actuality she took after her Father. For her entire existence she struggled to be like her Mother. But being too young to fight along side her, constantly being sheltered at home, she grasped her Father’s talents. Does she regret it? Occasionally. Though while Prometheus physically rescues their Children, and provides their resources, Apollo’s capable of doing her job in patching them all up. Thus far they are surviving. Now she can only beg that it remains this way. Things cannot end as they did with her parents.