"The smell of blood, the taste of fear, the lust for something more..."
As Head Gamemaker Alessia Caro entered the bustling hub of the Gamemaker's Headquarters, the fluorescent lights of computers and complex machinery hit her so hard that she nearly fell backwards, the magenta glass of her spectacles magnifying it painfully. Steadying herself momentarily with one, gloved hand, she shot a glare at a group of Gamemakers nearby- whom had not shown a slight amount of interest in her, despite her stumble- and marched towards the centre of the room, where a short, pale haired man leaned over a circular silver table. Her high heels made loud slapping noises on the metal floor, attracting some attention. Alessia stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the lab-coated employees who worked in the room.
Baring her unnaturally white teeth in a smile at the man leaning over the table, she joined him at a respectful distance- precisely two metres away- and leaned one elbow casually on the round table. President Snow, who had been admiring the map she had programmed into place, turned to look at her, unsmiling. Although there was no sign of either pleasure or displeasure in his almost colourless eyes, Alessia realised with a smug smile that he seemed, by the twitch of a smirk at his lips, pleased.
"Morning, Coriolanus," she said, her tone warm, but clipped and sharp. When the President did not return the greeting, a spike of fear hit her stomach hard; although Alessia was certain that she had done a perfect job, as she always did, the man usually greeted her in a semi polite, if cold, tone. His lack of words made her a little nervous, and she had to fight to keep the immensely fake smile on her plump lips. It was becoming rather strained and, out of the corner of her eye, she could see a few of the other Gamemakers watching them now.
President Snow nodded at her, as if sensing her fear, and she relaxed slightly.
"Good morning, Miss Caro. Would you care to explain this map to me?"
Perhaps Alessia had been expecting pleasantries. It'd been a full year since she'd last spoken to the man, and she'd almost forgotten how straight-forward he was. His wrinkled hands were running all over the hologram on the table, the hologram she had so carefully set up for his approval. She fought the urge to slap his hands away from it.
The hologram was in the shape of a small archipelago of islands, clustered around one larger island in the middle, with wooden bridges connecting each one of them. A large forest took up the centre of the largest island, a yellow stretch of sand running around its borders, with salt water from some kind of sea lapping at it. All over the islands, dwellings were scattered; mostly in ruins, but some still intact. It seemed that there had once been a town of kinds on the island, a town long destroyed, but still vaguely sustained. It had taken Alessia many months, but she'd located it just off the coastline of District 9. A ghost town, she thought gleefully, as she tried to ignore President Snow getting his grubby hands all over it.
It wasn't meant to be touched.
"It's an archipelago of several islands, which once were home to a small town," Alessia began to explain, wringing her hands slightly as she observed the hologram. "Some of the ruins still remain. Some food left there- tins, perhaps- may still even be edible. It was abandoned eighty or so years ago so, as you can probably imagine, it's rather rundown… Tributes will fight at the Cornucopia on the largest island. Wooden bridges run between the islands… But here's the catch. You know what's in the sea?" She smirked and, walking towards a desk, rifled amongst the papers for a moment. It took her thirty seconds or so, but she eventually drew out a diagram of what looked like a fish, with fangs as long and sharp as needles. "Slaughterfish. Mutts, created several years previously. They'll tear a tribute apart on contact. Every three days, we destroy a bridge, and flood one of the outer islands. The surviving tributes will be gradually pushed towards the largest island, causing an ineveitable climax… So what do you think?"
Very, very slowly, a smile came onto President Snow's face. It was not a pleasant smile, and sent a thrill of fear up Alessia Caro's spine. Turning towards her, his rosy cheeks pushed back by the corners of his puffy lips, he was an unpleasant sight.
"That's just fine," he agreed. "Well done."
The 60th Hunger Games was about to begin.
TRIBUTE SHEET (pm it to me, or it will not be accepted)
Name:
Age:
Preferred District (put two or three):
Personality (Be Detailed!):
Appearance:
Family/Friends:
Backstory:
Strengths:
Weaknesses:
Reaped or Volunteered:
Up for Allies?: