"Well, Miss Dromeir. I see you have outdone yourself this one last time then, hmm?" pouts President Snow.

"Well, yes, sir, I have. I wanted to make my last year special," says Dromeir, while twisting her lavender coloured hands around over her projection book.

Snows smiles at her, a decibel of blood infused spit threatening to pour out on his crisp white and gold swirled shirt.

She sweats uncontrollably, the aroma of artificial honey seeping from her pores. Snow licks his lips at the smell, thus dropping the blood bulb at the corner of his mouth.

"Special it is, Peka. Special it is..." he whispers into the air, trying to immerse himself in her Capitol made sweat scent.

"Thank you, sir." she shakily says, tipping herself forward towards the man, thus showing the top swells of her breasts, her black hair crooning over her shoulders.

They we're slowly gravitating themselves to one another, both fully aware of the lust floating around in the air.

"Oh, Coriolauns, you didn't tell me Peka was here!" chirped his bloated wife, Morta. A push over of a woman, she wasn't liked anywhere around Panem, and Snow was fine with that.

"Uh, yes, . I was just showing our President here the new arena," the coffee coloured woman replied.

Morta's dull eyes lightened at the thought. "Well, really? Ah, let me see of it then!" she jumped.

"Okay..." Peka's singsong voice rang throughout Snow's cavernous office. She lifted the book like metal onto the mahogany desk. She flipped to page eight.

"Arena, rise." she said while standing with her hands out stretched.

"Oh my," whispered Mrs. Snow. "It's marvelous!"

"Thank you, miss, I tried my best." hastily laughed Peka.

The trio gazed at the 3-D formed hologram projection. Rising above the table, it stood. It was in the form a an equal square, divided into four equal quadrants. The upper left held a winter wonderland. Everything was bleak and frozen; there was no life to be seen. A constant snow fell in heavy sheets to the ground, putting it in almost blizzard like circumstances. The upper right held the absolute opposite. A burning, hot, dry desert land covered the northeastern sphere of the square plain. It was rolling hills of sand, sand, and more sand. The few plants that were there either held the most life suntanning juices that allowed a tribute to live for days without water, to the most horrid of sorts, a plant whose touch soothed the heat but who ingestion cremated the heart. Under that one was a autumn, but the worst of sorts. Rapid winds with bites of cold covered it. Nothing in it was calm and dry spells along with rain left tributes in awe. The last was the lower left; the spring. It was beautiful, full of colourful tid bits and flowers and what not. To the eye it looked pleasing; to be near was hell. The pollen inflamed your sinuses making it hard to breathe, but not so bad as to what it'd kill you. A constant itching where you couldn't scratch was there, and didn't leave until you left it.

"I honestly love it, Peka. Outstanding work," she said as she leaned over to hug Peka in a too affectionate way.

"Thank you again, miss. I'll be sure to tell you how everything comes along." she said as she packed her things, which was just the projector book. "See you in a bit," she called off as she made her way out and into her and Snow's 'private room'.


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