The camera focuses on the man with orange hair framing a young, fresh face. His black tuxedo twinkles and catches the light as he shifts his weight to his left foot, his pearly smile never leaving that wrinkle-free face.
"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, may I introduce to you. ." He pauses, letting the audience hang onto his words, letting the reporters scrawl his words down onto their notebooks for tomorrow's newspaper, and letting the citizens of the Districts close their eyes in fear.
"President Dare!"
An equally young man saunters onto the stage, pausing when he is side by side with the ginger man. The President doesn't make any effort to let the cheers die down. He stands proudly, a bright smile on his face, allowing himself to be praised.
What is going through his mind? What is this President thinking?
Nobody wants to know.
The claps slowly turn into halfhearted gentle pats, the loud cheers to the occasional 'woop!'. The young president takes this opportunity to step up to the microphone.
His finger gently taps the head, sending a soft spark through the room, causing a bit of a stir as people slam their hands over their ears. President Dare chuckles,
"My apologies." He says between laughs.
The audience laughs along with him, admiring their lovable president standing with close cropped, sandy blonde hair.
He clears his throat, signalling it is the time to be serious. "Now, as you all know, we are celebrating the 143rd Hunger Games!"
Cheers erupt from every nook and cranny in the room, no citizen is sitting in their seats. They're all hooting and hollering, waving their arms about.
"Glad to see you're all excited/[p, folks. We try our best to keep you entertained for 143 fabulous years, with much more to come." A dazzling smile is awarded to the crowd.
"Now, I would like to introduce you all to someone. Someone who will be very crucial to these Games."
Soft murmurs fill the air. Who is it? A stylist? A mentor? A past victor? A tribute?
"No, no, no, and no." President Dare laughs a hearty laugh, waving his hand in dismissal as those closest to the stage shout up their guesses on whom this guest is.
"Our new Head Gamekeeper, Toph Claxton!"
On cue, an elegant lady steps onto the stage, walking with fluid steps to join President Dare. Her black hair is done up in an elegant bun, a green ribbon wrapped around the hairstyle.
Light green eyes pop against her pale skin, unnaturally long and curly lashes framing the green orbs.
Her dark green and brown dress trail against the floor in an elegant train, still moving when she stops walking, as though a light wind is blowing against the fabric.
Nobody cheers, nobody is booing. They want to see what this lady has to offer. What is she going to promise the bloodthirsty audience?
"Citizens of Panem," Toph nudges President Dare away from the microphone, standing firmly in front of it now, "I am honored to be serving you all."
"I can promise you nothing but what you all crave. I can promise you there will be bloodshed. There will be murder. There will be romance."
A few murmurs have picked up in the air, slowly being carried in the crowd as Claxton continues,
"These Games will not be forgotten. The 143rd Hunger Games will be one to remember. It will outshine your favorite Games. Its tributes will replace the ones you love dearly with your hearts."
The audience has responded positively, snickers and cheers rising,
"And if my promise is not kept. . Why, you might as well throw me in the Arena myself, for this promise is one that I will be able to keep."
Toph Claxton shows the only sign of emotion she's given the entire night- a smirk. Her eyes are narrowed, eyebrows pointed downwards.
"Thank you."
She leaves the stage with applause and cheers following her, leaving the President and Interviewer standing on the stage, clapping with tears in their eyes.
Toph Claxton's promise will be kept. The tributes of these Games will replace every famous victor that has lived.
But no matter how much newfound love the audience gives to these tributes, one thing is for sure.
The odds are not in their favor. The odds will not be high for any tribute, not even those from Districts 1 or 2.
The odds rest in the hands of the Gamekeepers.
I pity the tributes of the 143rd Hunger Games.
A/N:
I was never good at writing introductions like these. I saw most SYOT's are Quarter Quells, and I decided I'd try to mix it up a little... Whew, big mistake, it's a bit harder writing the intro for a normal Game.
Ehm, anyway, the form is on my profile. Just scroll past all the useless information about me, and you'll see the form c: It's relatively long, but I just wanted to avoid as many Mary Sues as possible :P
Remember to PM your forms to me. If you leave a review, your character will be rejected.
Hope you'll all submit a tribute, and may the odds be ever in your favor!
-Peyton