Hey, guys! Thanks to everyone who has submitted tributes so far, and I must say I'm surprised that there are only two slots with two submissions each, the District 1 Male and the District 4 Female. This wouldn't be such a big deal if, for the District 1 Male, both submitters hadn't only submitted one tribute. That's right! Infinite Despair and CreativeAJL, you have both only submitted one tribute to the D1 Male slot and therefore have a 50% chance of having someone in the Games! I would suggest one or both of you submitting another one, so you have a 100% chance of getting in!
As you probably didn't notice, you can now submit up to 5 tributes, and THIS SUNDAY, which is in about a week, will be when I select the official tributes. 9 slots are still completely empty, so submit away!
Here's a pre-Games chapter, to unbore everyone, and keep myself hyped for the Games, enjoy!
Chapter 2
An Interview
Calliegh Rollings, Age 23,Capitol
I woke up to the sound of my dreaded alarm clock. Lifting my head off my fluffy pink feather pillow, I growled at it's glowing red letters, which read 09:00, wondering why in Panem it woke me at this unforgiving hour. As I reached out to press the golden Rest button, I remembered why I had set it for this time.
"My interview's today!" I shouted with glee at the rectangular clock. It didn't reply, it just kept beeping. I jumped out of bed, throwing back the gold satin sheets, so they were nothing but a big mess. I picked up my clock and pushed the stop button, kissing it in the process. Whoever invented these things like 400 years ago needs a big thank-you. I thought, they're a genius!
I dropped the clock and practically bolted to my bathroom, throwing my silky purple pajamas onto the multi-colored tile floor. Turning the water on in my shower, I was relieved to feel all tiredness wash away with the warm water.
I got the bubblegum-scented shampoo and scrubbed my long, straight black hair, making sure it was nice and sleek for the interview. I then scrubbed my body with a vigor, as I wanted any imperfections to be gone for the day.
After a few minutes, I got out of the shower, dripping across the floor to the dryer. I pushed the silver Go button and gasped as I felt the welcome hot air engulf my body. In seconds, I was dry, and I picked my pajamas off the floor and tossed them into the hamper.
I then left the bathroom and strode over to my mahogany vanity. I grabbed the clothes on top of it and slipped into them, loving the way the cold fabric felt against my skin. Looking in the three mirrors, I saw that my new dress was quite flattering.
It was simple but beautiful. Blue cylindrical fabric, about two feet long and one inch in diameter, covered my entire body, from my chest to my shins. The shoes I had elected to wear that day were considered "Roman" at some point in time, and were like normal sandal, the heel about an inch high, with brown leather bands crisscrossing around my shin, until they reached my knee. Smiling to myself, I sat down to do my hair.
I opened a drawer and pulled out a can of Stick-a-Spray. It was the highest quality hairspray out there, and my drawer had a couple dozen cans of it. Slowly, I pulled my hair into thick strands and got to work, sticking my hair up and to itself. Over and over, I pulled my hair up and sprayed it, until I had done it about twelve or so times. Once I had gotten to the point where I had one more strand to set up, I took the blue object off my desk and placed it softly in the center of my head.
Looking up in the mirror again, I gazed in wonder at my own handiwork. It had never been done before, but I liked setting new trends, not following them. As I looked at the blue jay, it began to move ever so slowly, it's blue and white feathers seeming incredibly realistic, shining from it's hairy cage.
Which reminded me. I had to put on the finishing touch. I opened another drawer and pulled out long blue feathers, covering the black bars of the cage with them. There. I thought, I'm ready.
I turned to look at my nightstand at my clock, which read 10:47. "Crap." I muttered. I got up and ran to the door, hoping that my hair'd stay put.
President Gumei Snow, Age 27, Capitol
"Thank you, Ms. Vespa. I'll call you later with an update." I said without emotion. The plump lady I had been "Interviewing" for the last half hour stood up, bowing stiffly. She then turned on her heel and strode out. Her sun yellow wig made her seem like she was already an escort. Stupid hag.
"Minerva, send the next one in. Now." I told the phone that buzzed my secretary.
"Right away, sir." She answered, a nervous edge in her voice. She always knew when not to anger me. That's why she had lasted so much longer than any other secretary I had. The heavy dead bolt on the iron door in front of me clicked, and a young woman, perhaps younger than me, walked in, her stride suggesting confidence and purpose.
"Hello, Mr. President." The woman said. "Calliegh Rollings, at your service."
"W-what?" I stuttered. Her attire was unlike anything I had ever seen. Her hair was strung up like a bird's cage, and a little bird sat within its confinement. Her dress looked like feathers, imitating the bird that moved like a real bird, obedient as any dog I had ever owned.
She bowed and sat down, repeating herself. "My name is Calliegh Rollings. How are you today, sir?"
"I-I'm fine." I stuttered again. "I'm sorry. Was there some sort of fashion trend I missed?"
"No sir." She smiled brightly. "I made this myself yesterday. Do you like it?"
I shook my head to clear my thoughts. Looking down at my papers, I grabbed a golden pen from the jar on my desk, and wrote Calliegh Rollings under Applicant Name. "How old are you?" I asked, looking at the section that explained the importance that escorts be no older than 40 years old.
"23" She answered simply.
I went on to ask a series of questions, and I marveled at her love for the Games. She answered each question with ease, as if she had memorized her answers for each one. Then it came down to the real decider.
"What is your opinion on Ms. Bubble Clearwater, escort of District 5 from the 138th Games to last year?" I tried not to smile at the thought. Ms. Clearwater "disappeared" last year, after the Victory tour in the Capitol.
She made a sour face, her features scrunching up, her makeup folding and cracking. "She was a despicable person." She started, "she loved the Games, but cracked after she lost her 23rd tribute to the hazards of the arena. She was weak. On the bright side, it gave me the chance to have this interview and have her job, so I really should thank her."
I couldn't keep the smile on my face. "Ms. Rollings, you are definitely going to be our next escort. My, er… assistant, Minerva, will tell you everything you need to know about being an escort. She's the one you spoke to at the desk before entering."
She stood up and bowed. "Thank you, sir! I won't disappoint you!" She turned on her heel and strode out, even more confidence in her stride.
"Minerva?" I pressed the button on my microphone.
"Yes, sir?"
"We have a new escort, and make sure you let her know that I have a few things that have to change."
"Like what, sir?"
Minerva Dove, Age 31, Capitol
"Sign here, please." I asked the lady in front of me as I held a pen out to her. A gestured to the spot on the sheet of paper I was holding. This was what I hated about new escorts; they always gave me mountains of paperwork.
"Again?" She asked almost exasperated. "What's this one for?" She signed.
"This is your promise to change your legal name from Calliegh Rollings to Indigo Pearl." I answered.
"Oh, okay." She replied. "Wait, what?!" She looked at me in surprise and anger. What had I done?
"Yes… Didn't you read the paper? I typed it out myself. It states here in section 3 that the President thinks you should have a more-er, Capitolistic name." Did she not read any of this!? I thought in anger, Every single escort does to me. They get the job, and ignore the paperwork, which I work so hard to create. And do I get any credit? NO!
I was interrupted by a tap on my shoulder. "What else did I sign for?" She asked politely.
"You also signed on… this paper, here," I pulled another page out of the folder I was carrying, "That the President may disclose your newfound style to the Capitol, under his name." I sighed.
"What makes him think he can do that?" She pounded her fists against my oakwood desk. "That was me. ALL me!"
"Ma'am, please don't raise your voice." I warned.
"Okay, okay. When do I leave on my train to get to District 5?" She asked, obviously trying to stay calm.
"Actually, miss, you leave for District 12, today." Knowing what her next reaction was gonna be, I turned on my heel and walked into the other room. "The info is on my desk!" I called behind me.
She didn't answer.
So, there's chapter 2, hoped ya'll liked it! I'm going hunting this weekend, so I will (hopefully) be posting the final tributes this Sunday evening. Again, CreativeAJL and Infinite Despair, you are going to have to submit another tribute, otherwise you'll only have a 50% chance of getting in the Games. To be clear, I still have:
D3 Male
D7 Male
D7 Female
D8 Female
D9 Female
D10 Male
D11 Male
D11 Female
D13 Male
Of course, anybody can and will see this story after I post the chapter, and will therefore submit to slots besides those 9. So, for those of you who have submitted only 1 (in total) you may be in DANGER, as being in the Games is such an honor.
I don't mean to drag this out, but Jotunheim Storm, I have no idea where the name Cornflower came from, but I fixed it. Speaking of Jotunheim Storm, (s)he is writing a Hunger Games, and I have 3 tributes in it! The SYOT is closed, but as JS has written many good stories, I'd suggest checking it out once the 1st chapter is up. I have been Lord Zagreus.
