~Prepared~

The other gamemakers had warned him of President Snow's reaping day visits. He would come to give them the list of tributes, or so he would say, and then he would ask for a sneak peek at the arena and the mutts they would incorporate. You never say no, they had warned. Gavrosh Locks had refused twenty years ago and hadn't even survived to see the tributes in his arena. The president would also bombard him with questions and he had to have an answer for every one. Otherwise he would end up like Danike Lowsome who didn't have a plan for pushing the tributes together for the finale.

Slade Keirseon had never worked on a game maker team before being appointed Head Gamemaker and despite how nerve wracking the influx of warnings and advice from his team was, he was grateful for all of it. He'd known going into this job that he would face much resentment from seasoned game makers that would feel they deserved the job more than some outsider. He hoped that their advice meant that they were past their initial resentment. He thought it was a good sign though, as well as their enthusiasm for his proposed arena.

He was standing at the head of the control room, watching a test run of one of the mutts they had designed specifically for their arena, when the doors behind him hissed and slid open. Just as promised, in came the president. With over a century of life, not even Capitol technology could hide President Snow's age, although not for lack of effort. The man was bent and walked gingerly, although his face was smooth and spotless. His hair was thicker than a man his age should have had, but stiff and breaking from the use of the products that ensured it grew. His lips were as thick and red as they had been for most of his life, as far as Slade could tell from old footage of the President in his youth. He was flanked by two avoxes when he entered, one of whom bore a stack of folders.

"Head Gamemaker Keirseon," The president greeted in as genial a way as a weathered old man could manage. "I've come to bring you your tributes." He nodded to the avox, who stepped forward and dropped the folders on the Head Gamemaker's desk. On top Slade could see a crisp sheet of paper with a list of names and ages and districts. He longed to peek through the files or even to study the list, but knew he could not yet. There was still more business. He had thought this through and if the president was going to force him to show off his arena, he was going to make it look like his own idea.

"Thank you, Mr. President," he began cheerfully. "Since you are here, perhaps you would like to take a peek at the arena? We already have footage pulled up. We are testing mutts."

The president smiled, which was a terrifying thing. Sours on his mouth split open and blood stained his teeth. He looked like some animal baring its teeth. "Why thank you, Head Gamemaker. I would like that very much indeed."

So Slader stood back and allowed the President to step up to the rail that looked over the room. He instructed one of his gamemakers to pull up the three-dimensional map of the arena first. He talked a little about the finer points of the overall design before moving on to some of the highlights, having his gamemakers show footage of the places up close. The president listened to him patiently, his face blank, which was making the Head Gamemaker nervous. When he had covered everything he could think of and concluded, the President observed, "It sounds very medieval." Head Gamemaker Keirseon couldn't read the tone. It was flat and gave nothing away, but the Head Gamemaker suspected what he would say. The other gamemakers had said the same thing at first.

He took a deep breath and admitted, "It does have a very medieval vibe to it yes."

"We've seen medieval a lot," the president told him, and now the Head Gamemaker was certain of his feelings for it, but he smiled, undeterred.

"We have, Mr. President, for a certainty, but I promise you you've never seen it like this...Chala, show our good president what we've been cooking up."

So the mutt design team pulled them up, one by one, and each time Slade talked in detail about the design and its uses and with each mutt the president looked more and more darkly satisfied. He tried very hard to cover any questions the old man could possibly think of before it was asked, but the president did manage to think of one.

"How much control over these creatures will you have? Will you be able to prevent them, for example, from burning down your arena?"

The Head Gamemaker smiled wide. "I assure you Mr. President, we are testing all of our tricks thoroughly to ensure that everything is completely under our control. Everything will be contained as we see fit."

All the president said in response was, "Good work. I'll see you at the Chariot Rides." Then he was gone.

The room remained silent for several minutes after the doors slid shut behind him, then the room burst into cheers and applause. One Gamemaker told him, "The president has never looked so pleased with an arena in all the years I have worked here!"

Head Gamemaker Keirseon smiled at them and let them have their celebration. He was more concerned with the new folder on his desk. The reapings were finished and the list of his tributes was in. He studied the sheet of paper on top. It read:

Tributes of the 99th Annual Hunger Games

District 1:

Male: Superior Dempsey 18

Female: Mosaic Panthion 17

District 2:

Male: Apollo Wells 18

Female: Silk Guerra 17

District 3:

Male:Bug Dell 13

Female:Nova Ampere 14

District 4:

Male: Chelsea Dover 17

Female: Zidone Eversmith 14

District 5:

Male: Theophilus Ravenly 16

Female:Twyla Zahavyin 16

District 6:

Male: Bentley Leidart 17

Female: Luna Bridger 13

District 7:

Male: Spruce Ashmark 16

Female: Brooke Mackinaw 12

District 8:

Male: Rollag Denim 12

Female:Chifelle Wayne 15

District 9:

Male: Taren Davy 14

Female:Avena Larson 14

District 10:

Male: Crispin Rolf 14

Female:Sable Pelletier 15

District 11:

Male:Harry Harrison 15

Female:Lilly Bellcreek 12

District 12:

Male: Maxwell Schreave 17

Female: Poppy Quick 15