Poor Unfortunate Souls
A/N: Welcome to the 50th Annual Hunger Games! This is a story that I've been planning for a few weeks, so it's nice to finally start it! The first chapter is a little sketchy, but it'll get better!
The Gamemakers' control center had recently been redone with a crystal blue color theme, as opposed to last year's pitch black décor. President Snow was pleased.
"I like the new coloring, Daiquiri," President Snow told the newest Head Gamemaker, a dark-skinned man with glasses and a shaved head, donning a maroon suit.
"Thanks you, Mr. President, and wait until you see this year's arena. It'll blow you away."
"And why is that?"
"Let's just say that its beauty shields its danger."
"Interesting," Snow replied, rubbing his chin. He gestured to two chairs at the center of the control room. "Shall we watch the Reapings?"
Daiquiri nodded, and the two headed to their seats, passing dozens of workers in pure white suits messing with hundreds of virtual settings and variables.
As Cornelius sat, he looked at Daiquiri Remelle. He liked this guy. He was much more intelligent than Prescott Daniels, last year's, now deceased Head Gamemaker, who had failed to make a good arena. Surely this new leader wouldn't disappoint…
"I have to admit," Daiquiri told Snow. "I'm kind of excited to see the tributes for this year's Games. They are my first bunch, you know."
"And on such a good occasion," Snow chuckled. The two laughed, as the giant screen situated in the control center came to life, showing the District One symbol. An overhead shot of the Justice Building was shown, decorated in multicolored gems and prisms.
The Reapings progressed throughout the Districts, and the Gamemakers seemed to have their own opinions on each one.
"He looks like a strong tribute."
"Bloodbath, called it!"
"He's dead meat."
"She looks tough."
It was around the time when District 7 came along when Cornelius noticed the Head Gamemaker taking notes on a small, leather-bound notepad. He tipped his head.
"And what might you be doing, Mr. Remelle?"
"Writing down everyone's name and age," he replied, concentrating on his writings.
"And why would that be?"
Daiquiri stopped and turned to the President. "You'll find out when the Games start."
Snow kept watching the Gamemaker for a few minutes, and then shrugged and refocused his attention on the Reapings.
"You know, Remelle, I don't want you becoming attached to these tributes. They're all going to die eventually."
"I know. Let's just say I need to memorize them. There's something that I'd like to add to the arena, for…" Daiquiri grinned slyly. "Shock factor."
A/N: This story is a revamp of the 50th Games. All tributes are original. No Haymitch, No Maysilee, etc. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and don't forget to leave a review!
-EMBLEM