POV – President Nova
8:47AM, 4 hours and 13 minutes before the 99th Hunger Games begin…
President Nova drums his fingers across his mahogany desk, bags under his eyes. Sleep has been elusive the last few days, as it usually always is during this time.
The Hunger Games simply carry this much political weight, it really grates on his nerves and psyche. But, what kind of president would he be if he allowed the Games of all things to deteriorate his ability to function?
He grabs for his mug, and slips the smooth aromatic tea, is soothes his soul as he places it back onto the desk. He goes back to looking over some papers. Political spats between some of the families. How utterly pathetic, he thinks.
The doors to his office open abruptly, prompting Aquarion to look up from the papers in his hand, an unamused expression on his face.
In marches, a young man dressed in all black, his raven hair slicked back, and beard neatly trimmed.
"Scorpius, to what do I owe the pleasure?"
The man stands a little straighter when addressed by name, but only then does he take a real moment to look at the president, "Is now not a good time?"
The president sighs and places the papers messily back onto his desk, just how he found them.
"You've gained my attention, what is it."
"I've come with the same proposition as last time. I got data to go with it, here, the report," Scorpius says eagerly walking up and handing him a binder.
Aquarion doesn't break eye contact as he grabs the binder, and promptly drops it onto his desk like all other papers and documentations, it makes a resounding slam in the silence of the office.
"Wha-"
"You clearly didn't pay attention. I'm disappointed in you," the president chides, shaking his head.
"You said to get data, that my idea holds merit, you know we need this, D6 is growing into a security risk."
"Be that as it may, I said to follow the intended channels."
"Don't be an idiot, that can take months, we should push this out for the Quarter Quell at least, think about it," Scorpius explains exasperatedly.
Aquarion rises from his chair, leveling his gaze with Scorpius.
"My patience runs thin, watch your tone with me. I'm the only one thinking about it, you imbecile. What would it look like to my political adversaries if I approved a project given to me by a fellow Nova?"
"That the Nova family truly resides on top, that we're the ones ushering Panem fo-"
"Nepotism, favouritism or a scandal. Take your pick. You'll take it through the proper channels, that's all I have to say on the matter," Aquarion interrupts derisively.
"You're being hypocritical and petty. Or are you really this short-sighted?" Scorpius lashes, throwing his hands around in frustration.
"Don't test me Scorpius, just because we share the same blood does not mean I'd shy away from spilling it," Aquarion says with finality, his brows narrowing.
Scorpius hesitates, bristling at the remark, but at the same time clearly showing signs of heeding the warning. Good, Aquarion thinks, if he were stupid enough not to, then Aquarion would not have any qualms with ordering the execution this instance, a Nova like that would reflect poorly on the family as a whole.
"I'm your president before I am your cousin, you best remember that. Get out of my office," Aquarion says, falling back into his chair and picking up some of his papers.
He hears some marching, and ultimately then the doors to his office slamming shut. What a bratty child. Given too much authority too soon, Aquarion laments, nepotism truly did play a role in this.
Scorpius' idea, Project D14 for simplicity's sake, isn't a bad one. D6 is suffering from overpopulation and crime, trimming the numbers would make it considerably easier for the peacekeepers to do their namesake and keep the peace.
Additionally, the idea of moving those from 5 and 3, to bolster this new district as a research hub for the Capitol also holds merit. Especially considering Project D14 also will move some families from 1 and 2 to create the new district with strong Capitol affiliations.
If a future war- future rebellion breaks out, the Capitol will have strong loyal districts in their prominent three of 1,2 and 14 respectively.
But with its assets, comes it's liabilities.
The logistics involved for such a massive colonizing effort will be tremendous and given the Capitol's annual event of the Hunger Games, it makes it a difficult endeavour to execute. When will the Capitol have the available manpower? That's the main concern with the idea.
All of this movement can also create an opening for a political play, Aquarion just knows it. With his attention between the Games and Project D14, his watchful guard will be spread thin. Albeit, it's still a decent project, and will also placate any worries of a massive insurgence in 6. He'd approve the project once it gets to him, why can't his imbecilic cousin see that?
Does he not understand the intricacies of politics?
The Council will see the project approved in time, but to bypass them all together would be mistake birthed from arrogance. Sure, as President he very well could ignore the Council. But the message it sends, the nepotism it shows, it would be a stain on the Nova reputation, something his family spent generations building.
Not to mention if he so blatantly disregards what the Council says, they very well could find someone to replace him. His rise to presidency was as much as political genius as it was a political necessity.
His predecessor was old and growing senile, far too engrossed in his own delusions, disregarding the Council as nothing more than glorified secretaries. It was only a matter of time really. Aquarion was simply the first to notice it. The Council consists of the oldest noble families of the Capitol. They won't go unnoticed and certainly won't go ignored.
Knocks on his door snap Aquarion from his musings. He momentarily falters, trying to recall who or what the purpose could be, but ultimately decides that it would be best to show he's prepared regardless.
"Enter," He calls, reaching for another document.
He glances up from the paper to see his Head Gamemaker enter, a tablet, and folder in hand. That's all he needs to spark his memory, a status report. He may be President, but he used to be a gamemaker first, naturally, he likes to be kept up to date with the arena.
"You have a report for me?"
"That's correct Mister President," she answers giving the folder to his outstretched hand.
Her eyes linger on the binder before she finally takes a step back. Aquarion narrows his gaze, but ultimately starts to flip through the folder anyways.
"Everything's looking in order. Good, well-done gamemaker," he says.
"Helen Levenezque."
Aquarion peels his eyes from the documents to his gamemaker, quirking an eyebrow ever so slightly, "what?"
"My name President Nova, it's Helen Levenezque," The woman explains as she readjusts her glasses.
Aquarion nods slowly, not entirely sure why she has a sudden fixation on it, but ultimately shrugs, "right, of course, Levenezque. Thank you for your report, you may leave now."
She bows slightly before doing as he requests. The sound of her heels echoes well beyond leaving his office.
Aquarion wonders sometimes where his trepidation regarding her came from. A president can only be elected from the Council's families. The Levenezque family is not apart of the Council for one, and even if they were, they'd be so insignificant and small that they couldn't muster the leverage to even attempt a political play on the presidency.
That, however, does make Aquarion curious. For he did not gain presidency through complacency and dumb luck. She's attempting something, must be. What is she after? What is her goal? Is she backed by the Snow family? For what purpose? Questions without answers, she holds them close to her chest. Regardless, one thing remains certain. Presidency is simply beyond her reach.
Inspired by Snow or not, it won't really matter if she isn't one.
POV – Helen Levenezque
12:43PM, 17 minutes before the 99th Hunger Games begin…
Helen watches her tablet as the outline of Mila Carway's portrait lights up with a green hue, signaling all tributes have officially been given their trackers. Said trackers also double as scanners, getting vitals from their respective tribute. When one dies, Helen will know, and the cannon will fire.
In less than 30 minutes, Helen will be running her first Hunger Games as Head Gamemaker. She half expected to feel more nervous. This is supposed to be a momentous occasion for her, and plenty is at stake.
Yet, she feels at peace, tranquil even. She's been waiting for this moment, and yet, she can't bring herself to feel excited either.
Just, calm.
Helen turns and looks over to Osmon's station. It's empty, as she knew it would be. He's still in 4, delivering the envelope to the headmaster of Atlantis Academy. More than willing to miss the beginning of the games for her sake.
Well, it's as much her sake as it's his. Still, she's grateful all the same. It also helps explain her calmness. The two of them are apart of something bigger, how can she become excited or nervous for what is essentially a steppingstone towards her goal? That's all this is, becoming Head Gamemaker, is just a steppingstone.
"Gamemaker Volthound, an update on the tributes," Helen calls, promptly hushing the buzzing chatter in the control room.
"Vitals read healthy, some heart rates a bit higher than baseline. Tributes are four minutes from the arena. The craft is going under now," She drones out.
Helen nods, "Thank-you. Gamemaker Januzaj, update on the arena barrier."
"Stable and holding. It will be ready to move when needed though."
"Excellent. Gamemaker Barns, update on your muttations."
"In place and dormant. Arbol will wake during events or if attacked, Piscis activate on proximity. No complications in either," comes his response.
"Thank you, may I have your attention please?" Helen asks, placing her tablet down.
Her fellow gamemakers pause tensely and give her their undivided attention, some confused, some even nervous. She pauses momentarily for the latter. That makes sense, just because she doesn't feel nervous, does not mean her staff will feel the same.
Some of these gamemakers came from the 98th Hunger Games. But, additions like Volthound and Barns, even Osmon more or less alters the chemistry and team dynamic. Team synergy starts from scratch whenever a new Head Gamemaker is employed. With that comes a level of uncertainty.
It's her duty to placate worries and keep morale high, going into the Hunger Games. Helen clears her throat as she walks to the center of the control room.
"I want to begin with addressing you all with a thank-you. I could not have had this arena completed if it were not for every single gamemakers' contribution, and for that, I am incredibly grateful. All of your efforts cannot be understated, and you should be incredibly proud of what you've managed to achieve. That being said, let us not grow complacent. Rather, remain diligent in adhering to our duties and tasks. I hope this to be the start of a long tenure of successes, and I'm thoroughly pleased to have you all as my staff for it."
The gamemakers politely clap as Helen smoothly makes her way back to the Head Gamemaker station, her station. A hologram materializes, portraying the entirety of her arena before her. Well, it's as much her arena as those who helped contribute to it. Her vision perhaps, would be a more accurate claim. A simple one really, one that shifts into a new form, an evolution. Symbolic as it is fitting. A change in the Games.
She drums her fingers across her stainless steel desk as she stares at the hologram. She refines a few sand particles here, foliage there, at this point she's being pedantic with her modifications.
"Ma'am, the tributes have been escorted to their waiting rooms."
Helen nods in acknowledgment as she looks down at her tablet's clock. Five minutes remain. Five minutes before the Games begin. She couldn't be calmer.
AN: Okay, should have gotten this out yesterday, but got delayed. Small transition chapter that hints more at the political climate in the Capitol. It's here for pacing, I swear! Ahem, yeah. I'm working on the Bloodbath next! Super excited! Remember, if you haven't already received my pm,(or reviewed the story recently), this chapter is your last chance for me to know you're reading! That's all, until next time!
Oh, and I'm no longer doing first-person pov for President Nova. I'm sticking to whatever this person tense is! :p. Okay, now for real, until next time!
