chapter 01: the white rose

The peculiar part of this rose garden was its uniformity. No petal different from the other, every bush grew the same amount of roses, and the white of their blossoms was never tainted; indeed, pure white is the absence of all other colours. A careful hand found one stem and tugged at it. The flower was removed with a violent rip and no longer was the bush in uniform with all else. The man lowered the rose between both of his hands and began to tug at leaves, cut thorns off and hold the rose against the light. The morning sun shone through the outer petals. He must have examined it to have been worthy enough when sliding the flower in an adorning breast pocket and gazing across the remaining roses. The garden spread around the man in question. All roses had grown from the circle wide and far to fade away. The man himself had become more alike the flowers around him. His hair sported a white dye despite the youth in his appearance. Yet, the ice blue was most distinctive in his appearance. It gazed across the flowers, stretched along the green grass and settled on a mansion nearby. Two guards loomed below the large door and out came a figure entirely disturbing the garden's peace.

The approaching man's steps were hurried in determination. His feet quickened in pace and cheeks painted themselves in pink. He paused only within the rose gardens' circle, briefly bowed and opened the file he had been carrying.

"Mr. President," the red-cheeked man said. He took a long breath and paused.

"Priscus." The president nodded. Bored eyes tore back to the roses, fixating a few ones not too far away. Peace embraced the place briefly. The wind gently finding its way through thorns and petals. But all peace found interrupting once more.

Priscus cleared his throat and his stern voice trailed along the information conducted from his papers. "Sir, Mr. President, the jury of the ministry of media has preannounced the declaration of their next host. I have personally seen to it that the object of interest has arrived here and is awaiting your instructions." He paused. No answer. "I have further arrived to give you last reports on the individual's nature. My men have continued their special interest in his surveillance. As in previous reports, the individual remains unsuspicious, and I have seen to conclude that he is loyal to the Capitol. You can find details in the report, Sir."

In the meantime, the previous pair of fingers had found another rose right below its tips. They brushed past the president's hand and fell back into place when he let go. But his view did not trail along the motion; it was fixed within a point of the green itself. "Take me to him."

The mansion's halls of splendor might have captured a sheer visitor, but both man did not bother themselves with the view. They walked ahead through corridors and past galleries, the sound of their steps muffled by red carpet, and found doors opened for them by further guards around the palace. It was not until a narrow hall that the men stopped. Priscus halts in front of a great door and twists at the golden knobs. "He awaits your questioning, Sir."

The large door swung open and early morning light streamed through the dominating windows opposite of the entrance. In the middle of the room was a young man who sat upright the moment he noticed the visitor. His hands hid in his pockets and his gaze ducked away from meeting the ice blue. The president's thin lips quickened into a smirk.

"Mr. Flickerman." He spoke out loud, capturing the man's attention enough that it forced him to look up. Flickerman shivered and hesitantly covered himself up with a smile. This smile… It was so bright already, despite the lack of physical enhancement. That, the president reckoned, would make the later stages easier. Before the final reveal, of course. But a predator did not need to keep his eyes on the prey, and so the president allowed his view to move away as he sat down opposite of the man on the free silken couch.

He had seen him before. The bold man whose confidence and jest had captured that of the jury enough to suggest him as the successor. Yet, this very man here looked little like what he saw of him before. His appearance was ordinary — which could be adjusted, and he is of a young mind — which could be influenced.

But there must have been enough confidence gathered, because that pair of eyes looked up at him. "Mr Snow — President Snow, I have been informed that I —" he paused, nose scrunched. "won?"

"Indeed."

Flickerman slowly nodded. What happened next was a matter of mere seconds, for a smile erupted briefly, disturbed the face that it was placed on and hid away as quickly as possible. There was a sound of a distinct chuckle, too. However, it all was gone and hidden away soon after.

"That is astonishing. Thank you." Seemingly, he did not know where to lift his eyes. The pair fluttered like that of prey, from Snow's smile, to his eyes, to his collar. Strength could not hold it up and any force within evaporated. Flickerman looked at his hands again, a small smile coming and going; hidden in plain sight.

"As it is custom, I wish to talk to you beforehand. The next Games are live in a few weeks. We must prepare you for the stage. And the stage itself, of course." Snow leaned forward. What niceties might have been exchanged beforehand, ice cold hit the one opposite of him. "Any of your ideas will go through me. There is no exception, and no alternatives."

Nervous thumbs came together and apart in rhythm. Tap. Tap. Tap. "Understood." A first monotone reply. Good. Snow's thin red lips spread apart. White shone back, but the lack of colour contrasted its red all the more harder. For all Snow knew, this host was easy to control. Truly, after the past unfortunate tragedies, Panem needed someone like him.

"I wanted to change the set design a bit." Flickerman introduced. Was there a boldness in his voice? "If that is allowed." Tap. Tap.

Snow raised a brow. Stability would need a never changing stage, but they had afforded too many loses over the past years. If that is what the boy needed — he had allowed new Head gamemakers to set up their arena. A few different set elements would not make too much of a difference. "Granted. However, I would like to see such enthusiasm before it is officially aired."

Another nod. Tap. Tap. The boy was getting on his nerves and steady eyes focused on that pair of hands. Tap …. Tap. They stopped. "Mr. Flickerman, I assume that you know your role very well in this. The position as the host is a significant part in the system and, similar to the Games, your place is vital in the fabric of Panem. I don't like mistakes and slip-ups. No one does."

Large brown eyes watched him. For all the security ministry had told him, there was nothing much behind that pair of eyes, thus Snow continued. "However, we ought to be celebratory today, too. Someone with your background did not have similar opportunities, and yet you made it here. You have been chosen and for that —" right thumb and pointer enclosed the stem of the white rose. He pulled it out of the pocket with ease and handed it to the man in question. "I want to give this to you. Congratulations, Mr. Flickerman."

The flower did not move in the pair of open hands. In fact, it remained how he had given it to him. The dead rose stayed unappreciated within or maybe he was too scared to touch it. Has someone like Flickerman ever held a rose? Could he even appreciate its beauty?

"Thank you." Flickerman responded far too late.

Snow nods, briefly. Thin eyes narrowed in shape. This host was not as bad as the one before, but he was not yet satisfied. He would have to see, maybe Flickerman ought to surprise him. Surely, the audition had been rather well. "You may go now. A Peacemaker will lead you out."

And just like that, the new host obeyed and left the spacious office. What an odd candidate they had sent him this time around, but maybe he would make it past the next few years.

authors note: hello i have no idea how any of this works as I am new to writing fanfictions! But thank you so much for reading through this. I am quite excited to finally be posting this and have been working on this fanfiction for some time before coming here. Caesar is my favourite character in the series and I have been writing him in rp for several years now. This is a way of sharing all my ideas about him and the Capitol (and more, but shh! spoilers). As I am somewhat of a newbie any feedback would be appreciated.