Orton Velasquez, 22
Assistant Gamemaker
Orton hated many things, but he especially hated Claus Stilton. He hated the way he talked, the way he worshiped President Honoria Courtenay, and especially the way he planned games arenas. Orton knew he could plan far better arenas then the old fashioned Stilton could.
He was working on the best arena that's been seen in years, certainly better then the (incredibly) boring arena's that Claus has been coming up with lately. This would be the most amazing arena seen in years, and would surely make him worthy of the Head Gamemaker position in the eyes of Dianthe Courtenay, daughter in law of the President, and his newfound ally, united by their hatred of President Coutenay, Claus, and what they've made the Games.
Orton knew what the Games were supposed to be. They were supposed to be a punishment for the districts, for attempting to rebel against the Capitol, and that's what they were. Until the 100th Games at least, when the President lost sight of what they really were. She had turned them into a pageantry, catering to the entertainment needs of the Capitol. She'd gone soft on the Districts, turning her back on them to appease the hunger of the Capitolites.
They were going to change that, Dianthe and Orton. They were going to fix what Stilton and the President had ruined, and make sure the Districts know their places, and make sure they stay there. He hated what they had done to his precious Games, more then he ever hated anything in his short, bitter life. More then he hated his alcoholic father, his absent mother. It was his time to shine, to prove everyone who had doubted him wrong, to prove himself to the Capitol, to become Head Gamemaker, just like everyone said he wouldn't.
He knew what he had to do, as he began the blueprints of the most gruesome arena anyone had ever seen. The arena to whip the Districts into place, the arena to show the people of the Capitol that this wasn't just for their entertainment, the arena that would show that he is the greatest Gamemaker of all time, the arena built to take down the president.
Orton was ready to shake the foundation of what all of Panem knew.
Dianthe Courtenay, 29,
Daughter-in-Law of the President of Panem.
'...following the success of the Quell everyone is excited to see what Stilton brings to the 105th Hunger Games. All we know is that Stilton was recently awarded an award for 'Services to Panem'...'
Almost five years ago, and I am still forced to endure people praising the imbecile, Claus Stilton for what he did all those years ago. I'm not stupid, he had created a Hunger Games that has become something of a Legend amongst the Capitol Elite: I myself was enamoured with the whimsical take on 'Wonderland' he'd crafted with a vicious efficiency and sadistic finesse.
But since those 'historic' Games, the man has become nothing more than a pompous prat: A rolodex of menial Arenas have followed his 'greatest success' and this laziness seems to have infected the crème de la crème of Panem's high society. My own Mother-in-Law, Honoria Courtenay, has become complacent and I can almost envision her once iron grip she held over the Nation is becoming more tenuous as each day passes. It seems as though she is becoming nothing more than the President in name alone.
Everything is becoming lacklustre and entirely too predictable, the time honoured Tradition that are the Hunger Games have lost their unique 'macabre glamour', and such things reflect poorly on the Courtenay family. Such a slight is something I refuse to entertain: Panem is what my son's will inherit, and I won't allow the complacency of others threaten that inheritance. I take a deep sip from the flute of sauvignon blanc I am cradling against my chest, turning off the television as I hear someone enter the ornately decorated parlour.
"Madame Courtenay, Masters Caspian and Theodore have settled for the evening. Is there anything else you require of me, before I take my leave?"
Standing from the suede chaise lounge I smile genially towards my personal maid, any signs of my earlier musings erased from my delicate features. I place my glass on the mahogany dresser before folding my hands in my lap.
"No thank you Gardenia, I can sort everything else out. You've been truly wonderful today."
The young brunette smiles genuinely at my empty praise, enchanted by my melodious tone she drops into a curtsey before leaving as quietly as she had arrived. Walking towards the windows, I stare out towards the chrome skyline of the Capitol- A city I have loved since I was a young girl, sat upon my Grandfather's knee as he told me stories of how the Government crushed any semblance of 'hope' from the treasonous Districts. Great tales of how failed rebellions were crushed before they ever came to fruition, if he could see the 'wasteland' Honoria is allowing the once esteemed Capitol to become- he would be turning in his grave.
Turning towards the platinum clock mounted on the wall, I note that my husband should be arriving home any moment now. I hurry towards a mirror, pinning my snow white hair back into an elaborate braid and coating my full lips with a matte nude. Now more than ever, it is important that I appear as the 'dutiful' wife- not difficult for a young woman with wide blue eyes and a willowy figure. Beauty has always been a great way of ensuring you're underestimated and I was taught to use every 'weapon' in my arsenal to make an impact. The sheer white gown and soft blush on the apple of my cheeks, helps highlight my innocent visage.
Many would only see a 'graceful wisp of a woman', the loving wife of an affluent political legacy. Not many see the woman who was pivotal in ensuring the Courtenay name was respected- through coercion and blackmail I have painstakingly made the Courtenay Family a vital piece on the chess board that is Panem. And if my Capitol forsaken Mother-in-Law, and her egotistical son plan to sully the image I have crafted, then I won't apologise for securing a legacy for my children, by any means necessary.
The overwhelming stench of cologne informs me of my husbands arrival, I turn with a joyous smile on my face and supress the urge to vomit as my painted lips find his chapped ones. He pulls me flush against his body, and I moan aloud as he expects: Where he was once toned and muscular, soft flesh is found beneath his fitted shirts. Where there was once political acumen and unparalleled ambition there is only entitlement and complacency. As his world view softened, my attraction to the man faded into nothingness- lust bled into resentment.
"It's a delight to see you too Di, but I'm a little shocked at your enthusiasm. How were the boys?"
I brighten momentarily as I surmise the many achievements of my sons, their proficiency in arithmetic and languages far higher than average. I could almost fool myself into thinking fondly of my husband as we chat about our children, until he begins to speak of his 'meeting' with Claus earlier that day.
"...an Arena unlike anything we've ever seen. It'll be amazing, he's never one to disappoint..."
Gritting my teeth, I simper and pull myself into Andre's lap after pouring him a generous measure of scotch. Amazing? Claus wouldn't know amazing if it grew a pair of legs and saddled the plebeian. His 'amazing idea' is probably a forest, or an abandoned set of ruins- refurbishing 'tried and tested' Arena's is his agenda as of late. As stimulating as a fish out of water, but I nod along like the good wife I pretend to be.
"That's nice honey, what else did you do with your day?"
I stroke his bicep as he rambles on about his day playing golf, and tedious 'business' talks with some other morons who were born with golden spoons between their lips. I can feel my ire rising like a tidal wave, my genial smile becoming more forced by the second: My scorn reaching levels I'd only ever imagined. I cannot fathom why he feels the need to regale me with childish anecdotes when there are more pressing matters he needs to start focussing on.
The Panem Liberation Front, is growing more confident with their declarations that they intend to seize power. They're literally only months away from becoming openly rebellious and undermining the legacy I've contrived since I was brought into the Courtenay fold, and this idiot I'm married to is more concerned with golf of all things. I yawn obnoxiously and cover my mouth in feigned embarrassment. Andre simply chuckles.
"I think my Queen is a little tired, we should head to bed."
He climbs to his feet and ambles towards the master suite. Any pretence of tiredness disappears as I pull my Capitol-comm from my snakeskin purse and type out a message to an 'ally' of sorts. It seems that the time has come for Dianthe Courtenay, nee Snow, to step into an Arena of sorts- the political minefield that is Panem. And I have no intention of being anything other than a Victor in my own right.
To: Orton
From: Dianthe
A wise man once told me that as sure as the sun sets, the Snow will fall again.
Hey everyone, Mars here, now timesphobic. This is the first chapter of Patron of Lies, a collaboration story, featuring: StarwatchingDragon, Carrot Lord, Andii99, Rose (ReadBooksWriteThings) and myself.
About myself, I've worked on one other SYOT, called Psycho Circus, with 66samvr. This will be the first SYOT I have actually written for, and I will be writing for these tribute slots: D11 Male, D4 Male, District 10 Female, D7 Female, and the D2 Male. I hope you submit and enjoy the story, you can PM me on here, or on Discord for the submission form link, and it will also be on my profile. There is also a Discord server set up that you can also PM me for the link. Thank you for coming on this journey with us. -Times
Hi, I'm Andii- I'm currently writing my own SYOT. But I was always intrigued by the idea of collaborating with other writers, and since it is less demanding than writing a full story I decided to use this as another place where I can refine and develop my writing style to benefit any future projects I may undertake. I hope you decide to submit, and these are the slots I will be writing throughout the course of the story: District One Female, District Three Male, District Five Female and District Eight Male. Feel free to PM me here, my username is Andii99 and I'm relatively active on Discord so yeah.
I hope you enjoy the story, it promises to be a wild ride :)
Okay everyone, I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. Submissions are open now, and will be open for awhile since we currently don't know how long they will be open for, so get your tributes in quick!