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Post by Vester Lombard on Nov 12, 2015 14:16:43 GMT -6
Description: The night before the start of the Hunger Games, Cesar Flickerman hosts interviews with the tributes. Your name is called and the crowd erupts in applause. You smile as you walk out onto the stage, dressed in a stunning, formal outfit that you helped design. After some lighthearted banter with the host, he sits forward in his chair and begins the interview.
Submission Deadline: Sunday, December 13, 11:00 PM
Instructions: Reply to this thread once to roleplay your interview session. Choose 2 questions from the list below or create your own questions. This is your last chance win the votes of your peers.
1. Do you trust your gut to discern a true ally from an enemy? Or will you go it alone until you have hard proof of their allegiance?
2. Is there a side to you we haven’t seen yet? A part of your life you’d like to share that hasn’t made it onto the screens?
3. What is your token that you’re taking into the arena? What does it mean to you?
4. What do you think should be a tribute’s priority in the arena: food, equipment, a hiding place, friends, something else?
5. What do you expect will be in the arena this year?
6. Why do you think you were chosen for this year's Hunger Games?
7. Tell us about the friends you have made here in the training center. What drew you to them? What's going to happen if one you turns out to be an undercover Peacekeeper?
8. Teamwork will be essential to victory in these games. Are you a leader or a follower?
9. Who is your favorite tribute from the past Hunger Games? And why do you relate to them?
10. Tell us about your friends and family back home. Who is your biggest fan?
11. What is the most frightening thing you've ever experienced? How does that compare to the anxiety leading up to the arena?
12. Before these games begin, Is there a final message you’d like to share with all the other tributes?
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Post by Wren Hartwood on Dec 10, 2015 15:20:22 GMT -6
“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome our little lumberjack from District Seven- Wren Hartwood!” Cesar’s voice was booming around the auditorium. Wren approached the stage, feeling at least a bit at home in the boots from the parade. His stylist Jem was a fan of old fantasy stories and really liked him in the “Peter Pan-meets-Robinhood” look, so she had created a new one for him, similar to the one he wore in the parade. She even let him wear the same pair of boots-which apparently was a big no-no to Capitol people. He was wearing a dark green tunic that crossed in front, held shut with a brown belt of what Jem considered “the Capitol’s finest leather.” His pants were a grayish color, and were surprisingly really comfortable. He had wristlets made of the same leather as the belt, and was allowed to wear the boots a second time. As nervous as he felt, he knew this was his last chance to make an impression on the Capitol, the sponsors, and his fellow tributes. Well…here goes nothing!Wren walked out to cheers and applause from the audience, which looked like a rainbow had exploded. There were people with blue hair, pink hair, hair in strange places... One woman had flowers tucked into the bushiest beard he’d ever seen-and he lived in Seven with lumberjacks so he’d seen many beards in his life, just usually on men... His eyes met Cesar’s and he took a seat. “Welcome, Wren. I hope you’re enjoying your stay in the Capitol. I have to say, I saw some footage of your training session and you were looking pre-tty good in there.” Cesar raised his eyebrows and nodded at Wren. “Oh. Well, yeah I felt pretty comfortable in there for the most part.” Wren was lying through his teeth, but no one seemed to notice. “Honestly, a lot of it is luck in there. Between nerves and so many new things around, all you can hope for is to get a bit lucky if it’s something you’re unfamiliar with. But I know what I’m best at, so I didn’t show off too many of my strengths. I’m just hoping I can show those off in the arena.” Cesar smiled. “Ah, I’ll bet you’re hoping for trees. But what tribute doesn’t hope the arena will be a bit like home, eh? So tell me, Wren... that’s a bird’s name, no? Wren.” Wren tried his best to sit up straight. “Yeah. It is. My whole family has bird names, actually.” Cesar beamed at him, “Oh, how charming! Here in the Capitol, we just love interesting names like that. That brings me to my first question: Tell us about your friends and family back home. Who is your biggest fan?”Wren tried not to cringe at the mention of friends, but lightened up at the thought of his family. “Well, I actually don’t have too many friends back at home, but I seem to be making a few here. My sister Egret is actually my closest friend. She’s 11, although she acts more like she’s 14 or 15. We’re really close. I also have a little brother, Robin. He’s 8 and quite boisterous, although I think sometimes he’s a bit afraid of me. But I guess that’s just how an older brother is supposed to seem: a bit scary at times, but protective. My parents are lumberjacks. My dad’s in charge of his own sector of woods, so he’s always put a bit of pressure on me to do well. My mom is a bit timid, but she’s sweet. I miss her… And I’d have to say if anyone back home is rooting for me, Egret would be leading that cheer. She’s a hell of a kid.” Wren smiled. It was one of the first times he’d thought of her here without being sad. Even if he died, he felt comfort in knowing Egret was strong and could manage without him now that she was growing up. “Well your family sounds just wonderful, Wren. And I’m sure your entire District is cheering you on. In fact, I haven’t seen much of your district-mate since the Reaping…so if she’s gone MIA, you’re the default to cheer for!” Cesar busted out with laughter, although Wren wasn’t sure which part he should be laughing at. He was becoming pretty concerned about his missing partner. He figured the rest of the tributes had formed alliances with their partners... Cesar’s voice boomed again, “Ah, our next question: Is there a side to you we haven’t seen yet? A part of your life you’d like to share that hasn’t made it onto the screens?” Wren felt the color drain from his face. They could not have chosen a more uncomfortable-yet appropriate- question for him. He considered how to phrase his answer. Actually, there were a few sides of himself he hadn’t let show yet, but with everyone back home watching, he knew he couldn’t confess to eavesdropping on people during work. And since he had already told this story to a few fellow tributes, he figured he might as well let it out. “Ah. Well, of course. Any smart tribute isn’t going to show their entire self before the games, and those who do are smart enough not to do so around cameras. Back at home, I’m really quiet. I’ve had a rough history with some classmates. Some guys were shoving me around and saying nasty things about me…This had gone on for years, in addition to pressure from my dad. So one day, I dunno. I just sorta lost it. I barely remember what happened, but it’s like I wasn’t myself in those moments, you know?” Cesar’s eyes lit up. He seemed excited to hear about this story. “What happened, Wren?” “I…” Wren looked around at the audience. They all leaned in, hanging on to his every word. They’re loving this! Wren continued, “I broke this kid’s ribs, and it punctured a lung. He almost died, but now he has to use a breathing machine. “ Cesar laughed and laughed, “Aha, so the little Wren does have some fight in him, I see! And , oh, I know what you mean. That ‘animal state’ is how most tributes have to make their kills in the game, and we just love it, don’t we folks!” The whole crowd was cheering. This is sick. Cesar continued, “So how do you feel about that, Wren? Any last words for that kid back home?” Wren hadn’t spoken to him since the incident. He couldn’t even bring himself to visit in the hospital. He’d always felt so bad about it. Then he thought of some things the other districts had been saying this week- how their pasts define who they are, how they have to kill to survive, how Demetri said he’d kill Wren if they crossed paths…Wren looked directly into the camera. “I’m not sorry.” The crowd exploded with cheers. “Thatta boy!” Cesar heartily patted Wren on the back before sending him off backstage.
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Post by Holly Edison on Dec 11, 2015 16:27:42 GMT -6
"Ladies and gentlemen, we're only just getting started with these fabulous tributes!"
It's like I'm being crushed. How appropriate.
Waiting behind the curtain off stage she looked down and examined her dress. She had been presented with only one option at the fitting and it was beautiful, but she'd had no say in it. "Months of hand beading, crimping and construction! Oh, the cost of it! But only the best!" She could hear the stylist, Briar, droning on about all the terribly important bits of work that had gone into making it. The gown was one-shouldered, with an open back. It covered her feet entirely and trailed far behind her. Pitch black, it was covered in hematite and obsidian beads at the bottom fading into white at the knee. It was stiff and uncomfortable, the heavy beading of quartz chips and smaller semi-precious stones up to her knees weighed her down and forced her to be deliberate with every movement. The trumpet shape of the dress had been exaggerated, large folds of canvas fabric had been stiffened and crimped, manipulated and tortured to create the illusion of a snow capped mountain rising from the ground with Holly emerging from it's peak at the knees. Wisps of white organza, sparkling with minuscule sequins and made to resemble clouds flowed up and around her body, ending in an exaggerated tuft on one shoulder. If the dress weighs as much as the wearer I guess you need something to keep it up. But at least I won't be flashing the Capitol.
"We've got many more to go but now let's welcome District 2's lovely tribute - HOLLY EDISON!"
Her focus was broken by a firm hand suddenly pushing her forward. Emerging from behind the curtain she forced herself to smile and look into each camera. "Show it off, dear! Make an impression! You may only get one!" At least don't fall. She circled behind Cesar and turned to him from the other side, allowing the audience a full view of the dress so prized by the Capitol stylists she'd been assigned. The crowd cheered, fawning over the ensemble.
"My what a stunning girl! Lovely, just lovely, isn't she folks? And this dress my, my! Stunning, isn't it? Just fabulous." Cesar grinned toothily and looked to her expectantly.
"Oh, Cesar, I have to thank my stylist for this one, Briar, has worked a miracle making me presentable and honoring my home District so well!"
Cesar laughed again, "Modesty! Another charming quality! The dress isn't everything dear, the girl inside it, that's what matters! But... a good dress never hurt." The crowd laughed at Cesar's playful antics. It's rehearsed, Cesar and the audience. Talk, laugh. Talk, cheer.
Holly smiled at the crowd and cast her gaze down, involuntarily blushing at the wave of compliments and mild embarrassment she felt at being the sole center of attention. She felt her cheeks getting hotter. Holly was surprised she felt uncomfortable but tried not to let it show. Every time Cesar talked he helped to create a narrative she had no control over. A new Holly was emerging, defined by the cameras and lights and she wasn't liking this version. All of this is so fake. He's grinning like an idiot through clenched teeth and I'm just trying to stay upright in this damn thing. I expected this but still, it's surreal.
"Now, Holly, let's get to know you better. Who is Holly Edison? What makes you, YOU? Why do you think you were chosen for this year's Hunger Games?"
She considered the question, so broadly phrased at first she didn't know where to start.
"I... I've been working towards the Games for seven years. Preparing and waiting, hoping I would be chosen and be able to..." she blinked away a tear she had not been expecting.
The crowd had gone quiet and Cesar prompted her to continue, "To what, dear? Go on."
"... to help my family. Older members of my family, they haven't always supported the Capitol and have been critical of the games and public policy." Mutterings of disapproval swept through the crowd in waves. "But they've changed and grew to appreciate... LOVE Panem and all it stands for! I knew as a child I wanted to be here. I knew the greatness of Panem could best be served by offering myself as tribute in the games. They saw the error of their ways! My parents have worked hard to serve the Capitol. But we've suffered because of it." More murmurs from the crowd followed. Holly paused and continued with as much passion as she could muster, though not all of it was genuine. She just hoped that this version of the truth would be enough.
"I want to redeem my family for their past foolishness. I want a better life for us-for them. I can only guess why I might have been chosen. I'd like to thank the Game Maker, Vester Lombard, for giving me this gift." Pausing for emphasis she added, "I won't waste it."
Cheers erupted from the crowd and Holly breathed a sigh of relief. Seems like they bought it. I don't have to love Panem to know this is the best way to help everyone back home.
"Well, I don't think you have anything to worry about there, Holly. Look at the fire in her eyes, folks! Who would ever doubt her loyalty to Panem?" More applause punctuated his speech. "Wonderful, just wonderful! Now, dear we're almost out of time, but your family seems so important to you. What is your token that you’re taking into the arena? What does it mean to you? I heard a little rumor that your token might have something to do with them, is that right? Go on, tell us-we're all friends here aren't we, folks?"
The crowd cheered again in love with Cesar, as always. More leading questions, more efforts to make me more appealing. That's good, even if I hate it. This answer was thankfully easy and there was no need to obscure the truth of its origins.
"In fact it does, Cesar. You've got excellent sources," she said, winking at him and earned a light round of laughter from the crowd. "I have it right here," She reached down and pulled a piece of cloth from within one of the folds in the mountains peak below. "It's a simple handkerchief. Once part of a larger blanket, my grandmother made for me before I was born." She held it so that each of the four squares and their colors would be visible to the cameras. "But it's more than just a token of my family. It's based on our home, District 2. My grandmother told me that each of the colors mean something and remind me of home. White and grey are the mountains and stone dust, black for the dark of the mines and orange for the molten metals of the blacksmiths and the dust of the bricklayers."
She closed her hand around it and held the cloth to her chest while Cesar thanked her and ushered her off the stage. Smiling a final time at the crowd and hoping she'd performed well enough for them she exited. It was quiet now behind the curtain, her moment had passed and the attendants were nowhere to be found.
No doubt, they're off readying the next one to be paraded out. That will just have to do.
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Post by Wallace Barker on Dec 12, 2015 3:13:20 GMT -6
"The young man from district 6, Wallace Barker!" Wallace walked out onstage with his head held as high as he could, his back straight. His hand was in his right pocket, gripping his token: a small metal gear, as tightly as possible. He was dressed in a fine pinstripe suit and a tie that had tiny trains and hovercraft's printed on it. His hair was combed back to reveal his vibrant green eyes in contrast to the black of the suit. To the audience he had a soft swagger with his one hand in his pocket, just as his mentor had taught him.
Silent. Intelligent. Sound of mind.
These were strengths he needed to present.
""-allace?"
Wallace blinked in the bright lights
"What?"
The crowd laughed
" 'What?' he says, a-ha! I love this kid, just like in his reaping, the little gears in this guys head are alwaaaays turning." Cesar remarked with his usual excited smile flashing white as he poked lightly at Wallaces head. Wallaced did his best not to shy away from Cesars touch.
"Now, you're somewhat of a mystery to us Wallace, we haven't seen much of you at all! You keep yourself locked away! We want to know mooooore! You know how a good mystery excites the good people of the capitol, am I right?" Cesar asked turning to the crowd, who cheered in response. How could they not? They were putty in his hand. Wallace smiled genuinely as Cesar, a soft and knowing smile. Cesar was making this as easy for him as possible.
"Ha, you got me Cesar, I guess I've just been keeping it a secret for a while, can't give too much away to the competition, that's just not good strategy!" Wallace playfully jabbed at Cesar who playfully feigned injury rubbing his arm with a pout. "Of course! of course Wallace, but we're friends aren't we." He said with a sly propping of an eyebrow "Let me know more about YOU".
Wallace smiled again with a knowingly glance at the crowd. They all laughed and urged him onward.
"Well, alright Cesar, go ahead and ask me what you want." Wallace raised his hands in surrender.
"FAN-TASTIC! Now, what we have seen of you, is that you've spent an awful lot of time down in the media library watching the previous years Hunger Games, trying to build up your knowledge of how the games will work and in who's favor. Smart boy. So I guess what I want to know is Who is your favorite tribute from the past Hunger Games? And why do you relate to them?" Cesar had crossed his legs and leaned in toward Wallace intently, the audience going quiet with expectant ears.
Wallace was a bit taken aback, which showed in his face. "My favorite from any of the years previous? You know, you would think it would be hard for me to choose, but it is rather simple for me to pick." Wallace stopped and reached for an available glass of water next to his seat, giving Cesar a smirk as he playfully made the audience wait.
"Seth Judkins" Wallace said finally, loudly and clearly.
Now it was Cesars turn to be taken aback. "Seth Judkins? The crippled boy from district 5? He didn't even win last year, although I do remember him going out with quite a BANG!" Cesar through his head back in a wild laugh that the audience groaned along with at the awful joke.
"Yes, Seth Judkins. He was an incredibly intelligent young man, very resourceful and I think he just reminded me of... of my father a little bit." The crowd grew quiet. "My father is smartest man I know, and he is kind and just and he believes in the people he cares about. He believes in me." Wallace held his hand to his chest. "If I could be like Seth Judkins or my Father, I know I could win in that arena. It's more than just being brutally strong, or even versed in survival. You need to be able to think about how to abuse the weaknesses of your opponent. Get them to play into your hand." Wallace held his hand out to Cesar with a smirk.
Cesar held his hand out cautiously, playing along as he turned his face to the audience and gave Wallace his hand. They both laughed together with the audience again. Wallace could feel his face turning flush.
"Oh! Oh! Don't turn into a tomato just yet, I only have one more question for you Wallace."
Wallace nodded his head silently, his hands scrunched up into fists on top of his thighs.
"Every tribute here has been through SOMETHING, the interesting parts of these games for everyone are about WHO you all are and what you've all seen. District 6 as we have seen is not the most friendly place in Panem, as we have all seen, it surprises me that such a well meaning young man such as yourself has come out of it! You must have SEEN something, am I right? What is the most frightening thing you've ever experienced? How does that compare to the anxiety leading up to the arena?"
Wallace was quiet for a moment. Sweat beaded on his forehead. He could feel every eye on him in that moment.
"I watched my mother die." Wallace said steadily. He heard some people gasp quietly. "It wasn't fast. She wasn't shot or mugged like many people are in my district. One of my brothers died when we were young from a disease that couldn't be treated by normal means. It... Broke something in her I think. She stopped eating, and she stopped getting out of bed. She stopped caring... She stopped trying. I stayed home from school to try and take care of her, which didn't go over well." Wallace laughed shakily at that. No one else made a noise. "But I couldn't get her to eat or drink anything. She would just lay there and cry without a sound. Finally she took to what many of the people in district 6 turn to when they can't hack it. She started using morphling..." Wallace sat silent for a moment again, building up the courage to keep talking. He could feel Cesar lay a hand on his shoulder.
"At least she stopped crying yknow?" Wallace said hollowly "I watched as she withered away into a husk."
"That's the most frightening thing you've ever experienced? Watching your mother die?" Cesar asked quietly.
Wallace looked up at Cesar puzzled. "What? No... No I think watching her give up was the most frightening thing. She just gave up the fight for her life because she lost something... Someone." Wallace corrected himself sullenly. "I'm not going to make the same mistake, so I guess when you ask me how it feels compared to my anxiety about the games? I'd tell you I don't have any for the games." Wallace turned his cold gaze outward to the audience. "I've witnessed hell firsthand, and I'm more than equipped to use this one to my advantage". Wallace smiled knowingly.
"Well I'll be damned if you don't Mr. Barker." Cesar said with a smile and a wink before sending him off to the back of the stage, followed by applause.
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Post by Gwendolyn Fisk on Dec 12, 2015 23:08:01 GMT -6
Being in District 12 meant that Gwen was going second to last. People were getting bored she was sure. Everyone acting for the camera. Playing at getting sponsors. She grinned to herself.
Gwen fought hard for the outfit she wanted. A tattered little black dress. Barefoot. Soot staining her hands almost to her elbows as well as on her feet almost to her knees. A little of it smudging her cheek. Something had clicked in her the past few days. She couldn’t explain it. She felt dangerous. She wanted to push buttons, and not the nice ones she had been pushing on the other tributes. She wanted to see what she could get away with. She was tired of the bullshit. She didn’t like playing these games.
Gwen took a deep breath. Besides, what are they going to do about it? Kill me?
“Gwendolyn Fisk!”
Gwen walked on stage, giving Cesar a smoldering stare and a smirk. She watched as he stumbled with finding something good to say about her outfit.
“And just look at her folks! The very embodiment of hard work and dedication to the Capitol! She makes soot look like diamond dust!” Gwen did a curtsey at this.
As Cesar went to sit down, Gwen moved to sit on his lap.
“Oh! Well, then!” Cesar laughed. “You know, you do have your very own chair right over there.”
Gwen shrugged and smiled, “This one is more comfortable.”
Cesar laughed, “There you have it folks. More of that flirtatious attitude of Gwendolyn’s. Please, tell us, Gwen, why did you chose this method?”
Gwen walked her fingers up Cesar’s chest, “Like I keep telling the others, I only have a few days left to live. Why spend that time in fear and anxiety, trying to win over some faceless sponsor when in the end I’m most likely going to die? I would much rather use this time to live glamorously while I have the means. That means lots of expensive alcohol and maybe get laid a time or two.” She winked at the camera.
Cesar laughed. “Well, don’t you have any faith that you might pull through and win it? Come on, you have to have faith in some of your abilities!” The crowd made encouraging sounds.
“I can get any information I want. Yes, I have faith in that, but that’s not what wins these games. I’m not a fighter,” Gwen stroked the side of Cesar’s face, “I’m a lover.”
Cesar started to fan himself with his hand, “Whew. Are things getting hot in here, or is it just me?” The crowd laughs and Gwen hears some catcalls from the crowd. “Aren’t you worried that the other tributes might find your flirtatious attitude to be a front?”
“I find that there is nothing that makes a person more genuine than desire. I want you, maybe you want me. If you don’t, then we both move on. Simple as that. I have no desire to play these games in my final moments of life. So, why would I have any reason to play against anyone? To stab them in the back? I see no point in it all.”
“Ooo, let’s hope that doesn’t hurt your standings with the sponsors.” Gwen rolled her eyes. Was he not listening?
“Before I go Cesar. I have a question for you.”
Cesar laughed. “Well, that’s highly unusual, but I don’t see why not. Ask away!”
Gwen leaned in and smiled dangerously, speaking softly so everyone listening would have to listen really hard to understand what she said, but so that Cesar could hear her perfectly, “Do you get off watching children kill each other?”
Cesar’s smile froze on his face. It was what he was made for. He acted as if she had not said anything out of the ordinary. Gwen saw movements of Peacekeepers to the sides of the stage.
Cesar burst into laughter, “Oh, Gwen, why, my favorite color is purple! The color of royalty! Thank you for asking!” The audience clapped in mild confusion. Murmurs running through the crowd.
Gwen jumped off of Cesar laps and exited the stage. Not bothering to say any parting words.
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Post by Eloise Sugarglider on Dec 13, 2015 10:16:14 GMT -6
She could hear their hushed whispers as she pretended to be asleep. This wasn't the first conversation she heard her parents have at night, but with the reaping a few days away it might be the last.
"Maybe two is enough and they won't take her. I can't lose my baby too..." Eloise could imagine her mother wringing her hair as if it was the Sunday laundry, like she always had when she was upset. Her father, a man never know to beat around the bush, would not be able to comfort her.
"They'll take her, Teri. We promised them our children and they're going to take her." Eloise could hear the stifled sobs of her mother as the smell of her father's hand rolled cigarette filled the room. "You knew this would happen. You didn't say anything when Lawrence and I were propositioned by the peacekeepers, you were there when we agreed to volunteer our children to save our own skins, so don't make me out to be the enemy. You're going to make out just as well as I will when this is all over."
"Maybe she'll win. Maybe she'll find away to make it back to us."
"Teri, she'll die in the games. Lawrence's son is gone and when Eloise dies, we'll be the only remaining Sugargliders..."
Those last words echoed in her head all day as she was primped and prodded to prepare for the whore-show she was about to walk into. She spent all day yesterday learning to walk in these damn heels. All she needed was to roll an ankle the night before she was sent into the arena. Her last night alive and she wasn't even allowed to be herself.
As her name was called, she took a deep breath, held her head up high and did her best to stand tall as she walked out from behind the curtain. She was not prepared for the bright lights, and faceless crowd that was applauding her. She made her way to her seat without stumbling over herself. So far so good...
"Well my-my Eloise. Look at you. Such poise from the mousy girl who tried to escape the Peacekeepers." Cesar fanned himself with the his prompt cards while smirking at the crowd, wide-eyed.
Go for broke Lou...."Oh Cesar! I think Gwen is rubbing off of you" she playfully slapped Cesar's shoulder with her increasingly sweaty hands as the crowd snickered and beamed at their playful banter. Cesar animatedly rubbed his arm as if her slap really hurt.
Eloise took comfort in the fact that if she died in the games, at least she knew what hell was like.
"Now, on to something a little more serious Ms. Sugarglider, down to business." Cesar resettled into his chair as his expression become a forced solemness that calmed the crowd. "Every tribute has brought a token with them this year and we understand yours is somewhat of an emotional one. Care to share?"
"You mean my bracelets. They're made out of woven spring coils. My siblings and I each made one together and now I wear all three because..." Eloise choked as tears welled up in her eyes. "I'm sorry Cesar, they're no longer with us. I just can't get over the fact that I may not return home, and my parents will have lost all three of their children. They've been such great parents and I know this isn't what they wanted for us." Eloise glanced directly at the camera with her tear-filled eyes as she let them overflow down her cheeks. "I know they're at home watching and I just want them to know I love them."
"I'm sure they're rooting for you!" Cesar patted Eloise on on the back knowingly as he handed her a tissue. Eloise could here the Capitol dwellers 'aww-ing' in the crowd.
"Well of course they're rooting for me Cesar, even career tribute's parents don't want to see them die in the games. What kind of parent would want that?" She brushed the tears out of her eyes crumpled the tissue in her hand.
Confusion flickered on Cesar's face for only a moment, but ever the showman Cesar recovered quickly. "Well then, tell us about your biggest fans!"
"We had a very small home in six. One room in fact. My father always made sure that we had enough but I know it worried him that he couldn't provide us with more. Late at night I would overhear them arguing about how they could do better for us, for my brother, sister, and I. They thought I was asleep but I heard everything. They're amazing parents and they would do anything for me."
"Well Eloise, care to share anything with them before you go?"
"Mom, Dad, if I make it home you won't have to worry about me anymore," with a sniffle Eloise locked eyes with the camera. "Because I'll take care of you."
"Quite a heart-felt moment. Eloise Sugarglider, ladies and gents!" The crowd clapped as Cesar motioned for Eloise to stand.
"Thank you Mr. Flickerman." Eloise stood up, gave a quick curtsy, and made her way to sit with the other tributes that had survived the cameras.
As she half listened to the other tributes' interviews, Eloise could see her parents at home, glued to the television as they realized she knew everything.
If she made it home they would pay, but for now, this would have to be enough.
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Post by Cal Mensen on Dec 13, 2015 12:03:45 GMT -6
Cal takes a deep breath, focusing on the task at hand. Millions have been watching since they've arrived, but the thousands awaiting outside were right there.
You've been over this. Be the competitor they want, not what you are.
A grin slowly spreads across his face as his names is announced, booming across the stage.
"Please, welcome our next tribute, the second half of 12, CAL MENSEN!!"
He strides forward, finding a crowd of fans cheering and hollering. He's wearing a slender black suit, reflecting the primary trade of his district. A maroon undershirt and accents peak along the edges, a slow heat burning within the shell. The only part of his appearance out of place appears to be his shoes. No tight cuts or angles, they're made of a thick fabricated material, the original dye faded and scuffed almost beyond recognition.
Cesar beckoned him to step forward, whirling his hand like a reel pulling him in. As Cal reaches him, the host reaches out and grabs his arm while shaking his hand. Cesar's eyes are full of laughter, then dips down to look at the ground. He feigns shock and turns slowly to the audience, laughter spreading as fast as his charm could carry.
"Cal, Cal, Cal, please. Take a load off, have a seat."
As the two sit down, Cesar raises an eyebrow and extends a long finger down at his shoes.
"Is your stylist a vengeful one or absent minded? Bahaha!"
His laugh continues resonate as Cal just shakes his head, his grin coming down to a small smile.
"I'm afraid I was rather insistent on these. My token, actually. A piece of home."
Cesar lets out a soft sigh, an exaggerated expression of empathy shot over to Cal.
"How touching. You'd damn the laws of fashion to honor your district. That takes guts."
A small round of applause echoes, acknowledging Cesar's point. It's quietly hushed as the host begins his process.
"Would those be your father's perhaps?"
Cal's small smile faded, leaving a focused expression.
"No, these were the best I could find. Being an orphan doesn't afford much luxury, you took what you could get."
The hosts gasps, and places a hand on the young man's shoulder.
"I'm so sorry, my boy. I... we, had no idea. But surely your luck has turned around, with this grandest of chances."
Small shouts of encouragement reach from the crowd to the stage, a smile edging in on the tribute's face.
"You could say that. In fact, me and my friends believed it whole heatedly. Even with these odds, this was the best opportunity anyone can get."
Cesar's face spread into a wide smile, admiring the optimism displayed.
"I would call that... a winning attitude." Quick, loud laugh
"So... tell me about your friends. Surely they're watching, cheering you on and hoping for a safe trip home?"
Cal begins to speak, but stops himself. He digs his hands into the arms of the chair as the color from his face drains, his face becoming a thousand yard stare.
Enough. They will not gain that satisfaction.
"No, I believe they wouldn't want me to return at all."
The host was puzzled, thinks to have struck a nerve.
"But why? They're your friends."
Cal's eyes dart to Cesar, focused beyond him, beyond anyone here.
"Friends? Friends don't back down when they're needed most."
He stands to his feet, glowering down upon Cesar.
"Friends don't train with you for the games, using your knowledge and strategy to increase their odds just to throw it away. They were the strongest, the most cunning, best suited in our district. And when me and Gwen's names were announced, they remained silent."
The audience was was still, looking towards Cesar. The host puts on his best smile, letting out a low laugh.
"A tale of betrayal and plotting revenge. Do you have any final words for them, for Panem?"
Cal's gaze turned toward the audience, his eyes returning to focus. As he speaks his words, a small smile returns to his face.
"Those who put me in here, I will be your end."
The host stands to join him, placing a firm hand on his shoulder.
"Please give it up for this quiet fire, stoked by vengeance!"
The crowd picks up on Cesar's fervor, eager to watch the coming the bloodshed. A set of peacekeepers have reached the pair, Cal follows the escort with no resistance.
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Post by Demetri Messer on Dec 13, 2015 13:26:08 GMT -6
When Demetri's design team finished cleaning him up and trimming his beard (just slightly), he was fitted to a custom Schuhmacher diamond cuffed suit. When his name was called he walked proudly onto the stage with his chest puffed up. He waved to the screaming crowd.
"My oh my!" said Caesar to the crowd as Demetri took a seat beside him. "How come you never cheer for ME like that?" The crowd laughed and Caesar turned to Demetri. "Demetri Messer. Your aggressive personality has made you a favorite among sponsors and gamblers. Is there another side to you we haven’t seen yet? A part of your life you’d like to share that hasn’t made it onto the screens?"
Demetri thought for a moment. He never talked much about his personal life and it seemed odd to finally open up about it on a national broadcast. But this was the Hunger Games and it was time to put everything on the table...
"I was once a very different man. I went into Peacekeeper training to follow in my brother's footsteps. And I was in a stable, loving relationship with a girl named Kate. There was no one in the world as kind and loving as her. But after two years of training I came back, and she was married to my brother. I was so overcome with hate and jealousy. So I killed him... If I couldn't have her, no one could."
This silenced the crowd. Caesar continued in a more serious tone. "Before these games begin, Is there a final message you’d like to share with all the other tributes?"
"I'm here to play. I've got nothing to lose and everything to win. I don't hesitate, so if you cross me, take something of mine, or just rub me the wrong way, you're going to die. Don't mess with Messer!"
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Post by Sharlot Cuprick on Dec 13, 2015 16:24:20 GMT -6
The air from her lungs forced its way out as her stylist tightened her corset. She requested to wear a long white ball gown, like her mother often did. Sharlot's mentor, now sensitive to Sharlot's condition, provided her with a tablet that she could type into and would dictate her responses. Sharlot made her way out onto the stage and was met by thundrous applause. She smiled brightly. She was finally starting to getting used to this.
When the crowd settled, Caesar began. "Teamwork will be essential to victory in these games. Are you a leader or a follower?"
Sharlot smirked as she typed and the tablet's voice said, "This year is going to be interesting because there are multiple levels of teams and I'm very curious to see where players' true allegiances lie and how they will work together. But my answer is neither. I'm a controller. I can get people to do what I want them to do without them even realizing it."
"What is your token that you’re taking into the arena? What does it mean to you?" Caesar continued.
Sharlot pulled up the silver chain that hung from her neck, revealing the charm that was hidden in the front of her dress. It was a strange, silver lump.
Caesar squinted, unsure of what he was looking at. "...What is that exactly?"
Sharlot typed. "A tongue."
The crowd quietly murmured. Caesar comically frowned at the charm "That wasn't once your tongue, was it?"
Sharlot laughed and typed, "No, it's just something I made to remind me that nothing is free. Whatever it is you want, whether it's food, life, revenge, it's going to cost you something. I'm the type of person who makes sacrifices for the people I love. And I hope some of my fellow tributes feel the same way about me."
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Post by Minerva Umber on Dec 13, 2015 22:43:44 GMT -6
When Caesar called her up onto the stage, Minerva had a hard time even making her way up. She had given up control of her outfit to the stylists, and they had chosen to put her in a long and tight dark grey dress, with shining bands of onyx wrapping around her. According to them, she hadn't been "feminine" enough in the previous days. She nearly threw up in her mouth, and it wasn't just because of how tight the dress was, or her nerves.
"You look stunning, my dear." Caesar called to her as she hobbled her way onto stage. Instead of getting the oohs and ahhs many of the other tributes had received, she heard a ripple of laughter when she nearly fell getting into her seat. She attempted to curtsy at them, but the laughter continued as her dress was too tight to do it correctly. "Good afternoon Caesar," she tried to beam at him, but it looked more like a smirk.
"So Minerva, such a pretty name by the way, you didn't seem to be the most social candidate. You did a brilliant showing on a few of the weapons in ..." He had to pause as the crowd erupted into cheers... it seemed she had been watched, "but you didn't seem like the most social candidate. You only really spent time with..." "Thomas," she said, cutting him off, "but I mean... he's nice and," she acted more flustered than she really was, "I just don't know if I'm comfortable talking about that here."
Like a dog smelling a choice piece of meat, Caesar lunged at the topic, "Don't tell me our beautiful warrior has a fledgling romance, misaligned heartstring... a... crush?" He looked at the crowd and winked, "Don't worry, your secret is safe with me." This time, Minerva really did blush.
"Soooo... is that your motivation for going into the ring, to spend time with your one and only?" Minerva smiled, "No no no... to be completely honest, I just want to make my parent's proud out there. My father and mother have been fighting to make the Capital a better place for my whole life. My older siblings are already doing their best to give you their best..." She looked over at the audience and raised her arms towards them, "I just love all of Panem, and I don't want to let you down."
The crowd erupted. This wasn't that hard...
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Post by Dante Clavus on Dec 13, 2015 22:52:22 GMT -6
The suit Dante wore was similar to the one from his debut in the Feast, though his stylist added a subtle trim of red to the dark fabric.
"This is a timeless classic, Dante. You've seen tribute interviews from a few years ago, many of them gamble with styles that look preposterous minutes after they walk offstage!" Brushing the sleeves with the tips of her fingers, it was obvious to Dante that her interest in him only was entirely dependent on how well her creations looked for the cameras.
"You're right, Patreena." Chuckled Dante. "Once this girl from District 9 wore-" A stage hand interrupted with a frantic wave; it was Dante's time.
---------------- Cesar leaned forward, adding tension to the room as many members of the audience unthinkingly mirrored the compelling host's posture.
"All small talk aside, Dante. Your time in the training center made a stunning impact; masterfully performing in the tactics simulator and holding your own against the deadliest Hunger Games victor in a sparring match! Do you feel more confident or vulnerable going into the arena after showing your strengths to the other tributes?"
Keep it positive, Dante. Stay calm!
"My time in the training center was amazing, Cesar! Befriending other tributes, training with the er, incredible simulators. I'm feeling very confident that showing my strengths will let everyone know to either work with me, or stay out of our way!"
Cesar's smile widened into a grin.
"You say 'our way', so you have a group of allies in mind; but you also know about the new Peacekeepers implanted into the Games this year. How will you know who to trust out there?"
"Because every Game ends with one tribute left, some betrayals happen each year. Any peacekeepers who try to betray us won't be much different than an ordinary tribute trying to survive and win... So the best person to trust out there is myself!"
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Post by Valeria DeMasque on Dec 13, 2015 22:56:47 GMT -6
Valeria watched the tributes come and go from the stage. The bright lights made their outfits shimmer and sparkle as they made their in front of an audience ready to watch them die the very next day.
She wished she could say this sickened her but she'd be lying if she said she hadn't spent the night glued to the television the night of interview every year prior. It wasn't she liked the hunger games or in any way condoned them but in District 8 everything was covered in a fine grey ash. The textile factories and furnaces burning into the night left a blanket of banality over everything they touched.
But the tributes...
"-dies and gentlemen VALERIA!"
As a child she loved to watch the tributes sparkle and shimmer on that one night. "In fact," she thought running her hand through her blue hair, "its what inspired me to add a splash of color to my own life."
"VALERIA?"
Val snapped out of memories of her past when she realized that she was being called onto stage.
"Coming!" she yelled before realizing how stupid that must have sounded. She made her way onto stage carefully trying not to trip and fall in the aquamarine dress she had picked out to accentuate her hair. It wasn't that she was a stranger to wearing a dress. It was that this particular dress had straps and bobby pins in places she didn't even know existed. "All in the pursuit of beauty I guess," she thought to herself as she took a seat.
"So nice of you to join us Miss DeMasque," Caesar chided playfully, "did you sleep through your alarm?"
Valeria laughed politely, "Well you know. Life of a tribute and all we DO need our beauty rest."
Caesar laughed back just as politely if not a bit too politely, "Fair point Valeria." He tapped a note card on his lap, "And on that point I would like to know what you think about the pageantry and riches of the Capitol that we've offered you here throughout your stay. Do you think you'll be able to go back to..." he thought, "grubs and berries or whatever it is you eat in the arena?"
Valeria shot back without thinking, "Well if you're asking me if I'm any stranger to having to scavenge for food the answer is no." She smiled, "District 8 might be industrialized but that doesn't mean food is any easier to come by out there." Leaning back in her chair she continued, "Now we didn't eat grubs or berries but if you got desperate enough no man is above dumpster diving a little." "What's an earthworm compared to a rotten apple?," she finished.
"Fair point Val. May I call you Val?"
Before she could answer he continued, "So we have time for one more question and I guess I'll come right out and ask it." Caesar leaned forward in his seat and asked her bluntly, "Which tributes do you think are peacekeepers?"
Val was caught off guard by this question. She had taken the stage expecting questions about her conviction or her friends back home or even if she thought the hunger games were a good idea but this...
"Well..." Val started hesitantly, "I'd have to say that perhaps it doesn't matter. I mean they're in there just like us right? If they're fighting for their life all the same then they're no different from any of us." She thought how best to phrase her next words, "Hell they might not even want to be here either and if push came to shove I'd rather have a peacekeeper I can trust at my back than a tribute who's out to win!"
"Strong words Miss Demasque but will you really be able to trust anyone?" he grinned, "I'll guess we'll just have to wait to find out."
Caesar paused for dramatic effect, "RIGHT HERE Tomorrow midnight, eleven central!"
He ushered Val off stage and she awkwardly made her way off stage left while the crowd applauded.
"And now back to the studio for tonight's HUNGRY ANALYSIS(tm) brought to you by Hunger Brand Snack Cakes!"
Val silently hoped that she had just attracted the attention of every peacekeeper...
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Post by Nelson Clark on Dec 13, 2015 23:00:01 GMT -6
"Ladies and gentlemen, Nelson Clark!" Nelson was ready and prepared for this.
"So, Nelson, why do you think you were chosen for this year's Games?"
"I think...I've shown pretty good promise, and my dad told me to. Plus they put you on TV, so I'm guessing you have to be pretty, which whoa. I am. And I hear you get a pretty sweet house at the end of it, and no offense to my lovely house now but I'd LOVE a shower with some hot water. You don't know pain until you've got a cold shower at 5 AM in the dead of winter. Not fun. So"
"Is there another side of you that we haven't seen yet?"
"Well I guess there's half you haven't seen, but this is a PG show I hear so we'll save that for next time." Nelson winked, "I don't know, guess you'll have to find out for yourself. But I'm crafty, and I'm not to be counted out just because I might have a horse face and can have a good laugh every now and again, but make no mistake: I can be just as deadly as the next person, and soon people will see all sides of me. With clothing. Probably."
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Post by Sydney Gardiner on Dec 13, 2015 23:19:34 GMT -6
"Ladies and gentlemen, our District Four female, Sydney Gardiner.
Do you trust your gut to discern a true ally from an enemy? Or will you go it alone until you have hard proof of their allegiance? Hard to say, truthfully. I think…a lot of people are going to overthink this whole situation because, well, the gravity of it is that almost all of us will die. There’s going to be a lot of what I guess would be called a “trigger finger” but you know what? I think I’m ready for that, I think I’m more than prepared to be able to…make decisions without fear. You can have allies and genuinely they can mean well but at the end, only one can survive. Whatever happens will happen.
Why do you think you were chosen for this year's Hunger Games? Truthfully, very bad luck. But if it's some cosmic thing, we'll say something like my work ethic. Preparation. Training, no doubt. You can’t win if you don’t want it and it’d be a real shame to get blown up on day one, wouldn’t it?
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Post by Thomas Windsnip on Dec 13, 2015 23:40:36 GMT -6
"Ladies and gentlemen, Thomas Windsnip of district 9!" Thomas walked onto the stage not sure what to expect. He was greeted by Cesar, who began by complimenting Thomas on his outfit.
"Quit the small talk Cesar - let's cut to the chase." It was late and Thomas wanted to go bed. Some of his fellow tributes had been a little long winded, and by the time it was Thomas's turn he is about ready to turn in.
"Alrighty then - a man that's to the point. I like that." Cesar leaned in "What do you think should be a tribute’s priority in the arena: food, equipment, a hiding place, friends, something else?"
"Oh, absolutely food. I mean, you can't live without it - right? You can live without friends or a hiding place. Or even a weapon. Growing up, food was always a top priority for me. We didn't have much, and we got pretty desperate sometimes." Thoughts of pan fried cockroaches crossed his mind.
"Yes, that's true," Cesar continued. "Speaking of friendship, teamwork will be essential to victory in these games. Are you a leader or a follower?"
Thomas considered. He was too tired to tell anything but the truth. "Honestly, I'm more of a follower. Always have been. I know that's not the glamorous answer - but it's true. I do good work and get a lot done. I'm just better at taking directions from someone else's vision."
"Very interesting Thomas. We'll see how that serves you in the game. Have a wonderful evening, and go get some sleep - you look exhausted."
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Interview
Dec 14, 2015 0:58:22 GMT -6
via mobile
Post by Janet Martin on Dec 14, 2015 0:58:22 GMT -6
Janet stepped up to the elaborate stage where she was greeted by Cesar."Janet Martin, so good to have you at the games! Tell me, a bit more more about the juicy bits of your life, we want to see who you are! So, what is your token that you’re taking into the arena? What does it mean to you?" Cesar reclined as the cameras panned to Janet. Reaching into a hidden pocket she had sewn into her gown she grabbed a polished carved rock her brother had made for her the year before. It was flat in the shape of a diamond with carvings of fence posts and cattle in the background, the sun is out and the whole stone illuminates when held to light. "My brother Jordan carved it for me last year from a particularly colorful stone he found out on the ranch. It reminds me of him every time I see it. He is so talented, I hope I can prove to be as much here at the games." Her brother had always been top of his class in every respect from crop yields to wrestling to annual performance evaluations. It was tough to get noticed, but it meant a lot that he took time from all those other things to make this for me.
Cesar smiled, " Yes your brother is a talented man, you've got big shoes to fill! You know this is a big year, what do you expect will be in the arena this year?" Janet knew the answer, "I can't say for sure what will be in the arena, but I do know that anything is on the table. At the end of the day there can only be one. I imagine the cannons will be getting quite a workout." The audience laughed and clapped as Cesar stood, thanked her and walked off stage.
Stay alive, Janet. If you're going to be in the games, just stay alive. She held a solid smile through the interview, but it wasn't always genuine. This year was probably going to be a bloodbath, maybe she should have said that.
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