Hello, reader. This is a SYOT story. That stands for submit your own tribute, which means you could possibly have a tribute in my games! After reading this chapter, there will be more details on what to do if you're interested at the bottom! Other than that, thank you for taking a look at my story. Let the adventure begin!
Small and Silver | Chapter One
President Sylvais
"Must I remind you I am in power, Dior?"
"I was not questioning it, Madam" Dior states. His velvet coat reflects off the glass and marble in my office. The floor and ceiling is crafted of marble, and below the ceiling is a chandelier of sparkling glass.
"You must realize I am ardent about this. I have been in power for 16 years continuously. I've had my fair split of hunger games, and they've improved every time. Now since you're the new Head Game Maker after Oases' passing, I anticipate you to coerce well with me and not mess anything up. Is that understood?"
"Yes madam. Of course, I understand completely."
"Excellent. I can't afford any more rebellions, none the less soldiers. I renounce anarchy to overrun my lawful estate. Politics are politics, Dior."
"President Sylvais, I for one do not seem to be questioning you. I am agreeing with you and understanding your state of affairs. However, believe me when I say that the districts will enforce an uprising when they observe these games you've just thought out. Do you not trust me to make the arena or other aspects of the games such as mutts, weapons, and events, madam? I thought my position was Head Game Maker. Allow me to do my job."
"Silence, Dior. One more word and I'll hack your tongue out, and you can waste the rest of your life in my office as an added worthless avox. These games will impose my power over the districts. Now, I picked you to reinstate Oases' position because he recommended you to me before bereavement, and I trusted his choice. What I do not trust is you questioning my supremacy or the outline of these games. I can't allow a first year head game maker to ruin things for me, can I?"
I flash Dior a sly smile, tapping the wine glass in my hands onto the glass armrest of the chair. My plans are ambitious indeed, something this new comer would not be aware of. How I wish Oases' were here. Insane is not adequate enough to describe my plans this year.
"Sylvais, not to slide down the slippery slope or anything, but the entire nation is in opposition to you. Even several people in this building. Allow me to show you my ga-"
"People in this building, against me?" I smirk. "…Who!?" I yell, shattering my cup of wine. Tiny shards of glass cut my hand, but I ignore it while glaring at Dior. "Who is against me?"
"Hamock!" Dior shouts, a scared expression masking his face.
Once again, I sneer. Hamock, of course…"Well, I have my plans for him. I'll show him who's really in power here. Continue with what you were saying, Dior."
"I have nothing more to say for now, but allow me to show you my games Madam." Dior flips a holo disk out of his hand onto the glass table, and out comes a topographic map of his devices for the arena. To my surprise, it actually looks – well, marvelous. Having only a week to come up with a plan, this is splendid, sinister, and beautiful all at the same time. No longer will I doubt Dior's abilities as within a week he has surpassed Oases' game ideas.
"I have to say, this is marvelous, Dior. You and your team should be proud with yourselves. On second thought, I will rethink what I had said before. Perhaps we shall use your vision of this year's games…To be fair, they go beyond my expectations."
Dior smiles sinisterly at me. "I knew you would like it, Madam. I've had quite the flair for this thing, which is why Oases' recommended me to replace his dynasty."
"Of course."
Dior and his team's arena will convey dread throughout the nation, more than I had originally thought of by myself. I will not be undermined by the nation this year, and will persist to reign as a president until next year. I grin to myself, amazed at my own accomplishments. I contemplate quietly if I should reveal to Dior that I agree to his ideas, but snub the thought for the time being.
While I was in my thoughts, I was blocking out Dior's voice. He was rambling about the mutts this whole time, but has been interrupted by a knock at the door. I glance at Dior with the intent to shush him.
"Come."
The marble doors part, introducing Membrose
"Pardon me, ma'am, but the camera crew is here for your latest Panem broadcast."
"Very well. Allow them to enter. Also, Membrose, sweetie, May you fetch me a new glass of wine? I seemed to have dropped mine" I wry a smile, looking downward at the glass that I shattered. There's still dry blood on my hands and under my fingernails, which I will wash off before I am put on air.
"Of course, ma'am. I will fetch you a glass of wine" she says chivalrously, exiting the room.
"You should go too, Dior."
Dior nods. "Very well" he states, bowing courtly, and takes leave.
I get out of my glass throne, stained with blood and littered with broken glass, and head to the sink where I cleanse my hands. I am left by myself to stare at the reflection in the mirror before I present my declaration of this year's Hunger Games to the people, and something more.
Vara Heckler | District 12 Bar Owner
The television above flickers on and off, signaling a broadcast must be coming in from the capitol. Everybody in the bar turns their attention to the screen at once. The lights dim and drinks are put down for the time being. An older man next to me has a frightened look on his face.
"Good evening, people of Panem's twelve districts. Tonight, I have a few very exquisite announcements for the both of us to enjoy. To start, I'd like to make public the appointment of the new Head Game Maker. After the passing of our beloved Oases a month ago, I have taken it into my own hands to elect a new representative of this important position. The name of our new Head Game Maker is Dior Chatsworth. Please raise your glasses, clap your hands & celebrate in honor of this man's work. And give us a moment of silence to honor Oases' impact on the culture of Hunger Games & Panem as a whole."
A new head game maker, huh? One who's never been heard of before, either. That's strange to me. His talents must exceed the President's expectations to be elected personally, or else it was a random picking.
A surplus amount of booing bounces off the walls of the bar as the President raises her head again after her moment of silence.
"Secondly, Tomorrow will be the reaping, and as we all know the Hunger Games are an honor, a privilege, and last but not least a punishment. I expect that there will be no defiance against the Capitol, correct? You all know the punishment for treason, but if not, I'd like to make an example of what happens when you commit treason against me and the rest of the nation."
The camera zooms out for a second, and on the screen you can see President Sylvais, Head Game Maker Dior Chatsworth, and what seems to be Secretary Hamock Greenwald. Behind those three are peacekeepers, all dressed in padded white armor, with rifles in their hands.
"Hamock, please step forward" states President Sylvais, who sits in her glass throne again.
Hamock steps forward accordingly, nodding to President Sylvais.
"Hamock, on behalf of the Capitol, Panem and Myself, I declare you a person of treason. You have gone against the law, and against me, and you will be executed accordingly for that. However, your execution is special. You get executed on live TV, in front of every person in Panem, and more importantly, you get executed personally by me."
President Sylvais looks wicked, sitting on her glass throne in white furs. She's handed a long sword by Dior Chatsworth, who sneers at Hamock. Hamock's face is full of fear, still there's nothing he can do about what's to come. Around him are peace keepers with guns pointed at his head.
In the bar, many people's eyes have widened, paying full attention to the screen, in horror, shock, or amusement at the events to come. People are on the edge of their seats, drunk out of their minds, about to watch a public execution take place on live television.
"Get onto your knees, and face the camera." Sylvais smiles, who now stands from her throne. Hamock stares in horror at the camera, shaking in fear. President Sylvais laughs, grabs his head, and shouts "Traitor!" at the camera, proceeding to slice Hamock's throat with a blade, blood spurting all over the white marble floors, and on the presidential glass throne. Her fur becomes matted in thick, red blood, and Hamock's white eyes roll back into his head, his body dropping coldly to the floor.
People in the bar are screaming in shock, horrified at what just happened. There is someone to my right running into the stalls, and the old man is still faced with fear. "Oh my god" someone wails.
On the television, Sylvais sits down in her throne again elegantly, while blood still spurts from the deceased Hamock's wound. "Lastly, I would like to wish everybody in Panem a Happy Hunger Games!"
She gives a smile like before, but more twisted and sinister. The peace keepers from behind her march out of the scene, and she sips a glass of red wine. Whether it was red before Hamock's death is unknown to me, but before I know it the screen turns off once again, and the bar is now in panic. I can only assume the reactions from the rest of Panem.
Thank you once again for reading this chapter of my story. I hope you enjoyed it and would like to submit a tribute. There is a tribute form on my profile which you must copy and paste & PM to me filled out. I will not be doing a "first come first serve" kind of story, as I want plenty of details in your characters and their story's! The better and more detailed they are, the more likely they will be accepted. Once again, thank you, I hope you submit a tribute and go on this adventure with me and possibly leave a review if you liked it!