Capitol
If one were to walk into the President's office at any given moment, they'd expect him to either be talking to influential figures, doing some kind of Hunger Games preparation, or maybe even establishing some kind of anti-rebellion procedure. And to many, that's what they thought he did in some way or another.
So when Acely Vadess knocked on the door and heard the President respond for her to enter his base of operations, she deeply expected to see something that resembled Capitol business going on. Old men droning on about whatever it was that they talked about or something or other. After working with the previous ruler of Panem, President Delta, for nearly five years, it was what she came to expect.
It seemed that that woman never took a breather or enjoyed life. Instead, she focused exclusively on making the country run as smoothly as possible and was always engaged in some kind of argument with other Capitol higher ups. It was either that or she was out solving a crisis or something.
Up until her retirement, Acely was always running around to fetch someone or something for the former president. She eventually got used to seeing Capitol figures burst out of the presidential office in a fit, or hearing about district conspiracies, or having to fetch files and folders and other kinds of paper work bundles that sometimes weighed more than novels.
When the new president came into power, things had slowed down, and Acely was thankful that she could manage to get home and not collapse on her bed straight away. Things had become so relaxed that she was temporarily demoted to a common secretary. Not that she minded, she thought of it as a well-deserved vacation, because she knew that she'd be needed again. Maybe not for the president, but for her line of work in general.
And she was right. Just after the conclusion of last year's game, the president hired her to be his personal secretary.
Her fellow clerks had been bewildered when she got hired for that position a second time. The older clerks were even more surprised.
At only twenty eight years of age, Acely Vadess had worked with President Delta for five years, and had worked with President Booker for six months and counting. Jealousy ran deep with her co-workers.
It was hard work for sure, but it was what she lived for. She didn't waste her teen years partying it up, getting shit faced and abusing drugs and fucking every man she came across. She studied hard and was dedicated to her work. And she wouldn't of changed it for anything.
Acely thought that she could expect anything that was happening inside the president's office due to her past experiences with Ex-President Delta.
She what she didn't expect was to see the president sitting down on a pink, low plastic chair that was more suited for six year olds, accommodated by a pink plastic tea set, matching table, and five little girls that ranged between the ages of six to ten years old.
It was quite a shock to say the least. She had never seen a president not working while in the office. She had never seen kids in the office either. For a moment, she wondered if she had walked into the wrong office, or if it was bring your kids to work day, or if she was imagining things.
The woman blinked twice, and the kids, the plastic table, and the president were still in front of her.
"Mrs. Vadess. Welcome," President Booker said in a pleasant, fatherly voice. He flashed her a smile, which showed off something much less pleasant and warm. It showed off his only Capitol enhancement, razor sharp teeth that were longer and more pointed than normal human teeth. Teeth that looked more like it belonged on a wolf or bear. "Would you be interested in some tea? My girls make the best tea in the Capitol."
"Umm..." She hesitated, still getting over her surprise. Not from the teeth, but what he was sitting on, and who he was sitting in front of. "Maybe later." She then cleared her throat and brushed some cyan hair from her right eye as she got over her shock over seeing the president in such a situation. A situation that she never expected, and she had seen Ex-President Delta nearly create anarchy because of some seriously sleep deprived responses.
She swiftly changed her tone into a solemn and professional voice. A voice that she had learned from her mother when she had been training with her. A tone of voice that got her the respect of her employers. "Sir, your presence are required at the front of the manor."
"Is it that time already?" Booker asked with genuine surprise.
"I'm afraid it is, sir." Acely nodded, knowing that it was sometimes hard for hard working people to keep track of time even in the best circumstances. Normally it was from hard work, but right now, it seemed that it was from having fun. Not a typical thing in that line of work.
"Very well then."
President Booker proceeded to get out of the tiny chair before he sipped the rest of his tea, clearly enjoying it. When his cup was empty, Acely could see the disappointment in his face. He really doesn't want to leave his kids, she thought.
"Sorry girls, daddy's got to do some work now." The girls started to voice their complaints, and they would have gone on for a while if their father hadn't raised his hand to silence them. It took the girls a few seconds to notice that gesture, but when they did, they stopped when they were finished with their sentences.
Acely seriously wished that she had that kind of power with annoyingly persistent people. There were times where she didn't want to talk, explain, or even say anything to someone. And they wouldn't take a word she said for an answer. Especially the higher ups who arrogantly thought that they could get what they wanted from her just by vocalizing their opinion. No matter how unreasonable. A majority of the time, they wouldn't even listen to her explanation, which she found very discriminatory.
Hell, she wished that Ex-President Delta had that kind of power with some of the people she had had to deal with.
Booker smiled down at them. "I'm just going outside to announce the quell," he explained patiently to them. "Won't take more than a moment. But if you want to come with-" With agility that Acely had never seen before, the five girls were out of their seats and by their father's side. "Me. Please pour the tea in the thermos for me." Brooke finished, unaffected by the speed of his daughters. Acely however, was wondering how they could move with such speed.
The girls did just that before they were once again by their father's side. "Lead the way Mrs. Vadess," Booker instructed before they navigated their way through the presidential palace, a place that Acely had learned well in her years of service to the Panem sovereignties, and soon found themselves outside of the manor, facing a large crowd of Capitol citizens and television cameras.
Booker smiled at the cameras before he told his girls to wait for him with Acely. As the president walked to the podium, Acely looked at the girls and wondered how the president could keep up with them. She had one child and was far younger than the father in front of her.
She never regretted having her kid, who was now eight years old, but she didn't think she could handle five. One was enough for her. Especially with the exceptional demands of her unique job. She didn't regret accepting the job either. She loved her job.
Aside from his teeth, President Booker wasn't an intimidating figure in her mind. Booker was tall and wiry with short black hair, and in his late thirties, he was young for a president. How he could do his work and keep up with five kids on his own was beyond her.
One of the president's kids offered her some tea, and she gratefully accepted it with her marshmallow coloured hand.
Looking at the tea and its dark orange colour, she could tell that the tea bags had been soaking in the water for quite a while, and it was going to be quite strong. She blew on the hot liquid to cool it down before she took a sip of it. Expecting it to have a harsh and overwhelming flavor.
Instead, what she got was a very smooth and glowing taste. It wasn't bad, if only because she thought it could do with some creamer in it. She thanked the kid for her kindness, who gave her a wide smile before turning back to her father. Acely did the same.
On stage, President Booker pulled a slip of paper from an aged box that was being held by a boy of no more than ten decked out in an all white suit. Silence engulfed the air as Booker unfolded the piece of paper and read the quell everyone was waiting for.
She was just as anxious to hear what the quell could be. It was probably going to be something spectacular. Of course, every quell was spectacular, some more than others though.
She had heard that the tributes in each quell had created problems for the gamemakers, but they never did make it too big of a deal. The gamemakers just needed to fix some things, and the game went on. So even if the tributes created a little trouble, the Capitol put them back in their place.
Just like during the third quarter quell, the worst quell in history. That was the quell when rebel forces were at the peak of their power. They became brave and had the delusion that they'd be able to defeat the Capitol, all because couple of sixteen year olds managed to get out of the seventy fourth Hunger Games.
If two kids were able to get the Capitol to submit to their whims, why couldn't others? Because of those two, the rebels thought that the unstoppable Capitol wasn't all that invincible. They were wrong, for every plan, every team, has a weakness. And in the case for the mockingjay's alliance, it was Finnick Odair.
The president during that era blackmailed the District Four victor into betraying the rebels by placing the life of Annie Cresta in danger. He had a choice. Either kill the rebel's plan's, or have Annie dead. He choose the former.
During the bloodbath of the seventy fifth Hunger Games, Finnick swam over to Katniss, removed her floating device, and pulled her underwater until she drowned to death.
But that still wasn't enough. Though the rebel's symbol was gone, there was still a chance of the rebellion continuing even after the mocking jay's death. So when the rest of the alliance got together, Finnick proceeded to skewer Beetee with his trident. And with his death, there was no way for the tributes to escape the arena.
With Finnick's betrayal reveled to his alliance, they proceeded to murder him. And then one by one, everyone died in the arena until only one was left alive.
If the Capitol could find a way to stop multiple districts from rebelling, they could stop a few tributes from causing trouble in the arena.
"For the eighth quarter quell, to remind the rebels of the emotional trauma that was inflected upon our children, each district shall be required to send in tributes with mental disorders!"
At hearing that they were sending in tributes with mental disorders, Acely spat out the tea in her mouth. She knew what that meant.
The general audience didn't at first, but then they caught up with her mind, and applauded and cheered like never before.
They had seen unstable tributes before, and they gave them the best entertainment. Those crazy, unstable psychopaths provided unique kills and gave out the goriest deaths. Sometimes those from the non-career districts were better fighters than the careers. To see twenty four of them in the arena was going to be a real treat for them. She could picture it now, twenty four of the greatest tributes the games had ever seen, all in one area.
To say that she was ecstatic would have been an understatement.
Acely clapped her hands as the president bowed before the nation and exited the stage, coming once again into the arms of his daughters. The girls handed him his thermos of tea before they started to go back to the presidential office.
"I must say Mr. President," Acely said with a wide smile on her face. "I think this quell will be the best one yet. We're sure to get a most wonderful show." After all, how could the games not go well with the tributes they were going to reap?
"Yes," President Booker muttered in a tone that was both sarcastic and authentic. "A most wonderful show."
"Something the matter sir?" Acely asked, noting the mixture of sarcasm. She wondered what he was thinking. He didn't seem to be enjoying himself as much as everyone else in the Capitol seemed to be. Even his daughters were giving out bright smiles, and while he was giving them a smile as well, he wasn't doing it as fondly as before. It was like his mind was somewhere else.
"No," Booker answered simply. Acely knew that it was a lie, but didn't say anything.
"Of course, sir."
All around the districts of Panem, when the announcement was made, fear ran dry for those that weren't mentally ill. It meant that they weren't going to get reaped, and that they could enjoy life for at least another year. The mentally sane eighteen year olds were going to celebrate early, showing that they had beaten the Hunger Games by out living them. And they did it with pride.
Career teens were disappointed because they wouldn't get a chance to volunteer, but they also knew that they might get rid of some of the district's low lives. Kids that they thought were below them because of what they were. Unfit specimens that couldn't handle the harsh world they lived in.
And for most the families of the mentally ill, fear ran deep. Their sons and daughters were at increased risk of getting picked, and they knew that they more than likely wouldn't return home if reaped. After all, they were called disabled for a reason. Whatever they had, they'd be at a major disadvantage because of it.
The ill tried to tell themselves that they'd be all right, that as long as they had their medicine that they were going to at least have a fighting chance. They were still scared, because they were being targeted. They were a minority. They had a much smaller reaping pool. They had a much higher chance of getting picked and they knew it.
That terror developed into something even more when peacekeepers, on the orders of the president, stormed their homes in the middle of the night and took any medication they could find by force.
While some gave up without a struggle, many mentally ill kids and their parents alike fought the peacekeepers with all their might. But it was all for naught, because while the common people fought back with tools and improvised weapons, the peacekeepers with their armour, shields, firearms, and tactical weapons, were able to subdue even the fiercest fighter they came against.
With the rebelling forces defeated, many beaten bloody and bruised, the peacekeepers deemed it punishable by three generations of death if anyone was caught selling medication to anyone that was mentally ill.
And so, the kids were going to have to face the full force of their inner demons, and the care givers were going to have to struggle with the harsh challenges that they hoped they had put behind them.
A/N: Beta read by A.I.T. - Author In Training.