Derp Cannon, 26

Center of Gamemaking, Capitol

Gamemaker

June 10, 329 AEDD


Konstance DuMouchel was conducting a meeting, and from the head of the conference table, was saying something about the construction of the arena. She was about medium height, perhaps a little on the short side, and her face reminded people of a cobra preparing to strike, but easily the most frightening thing about Konstance was her laugh. It was a mirthless, convulsive chortle that seemed to make the whole building tremble on its foundation, with just enough sweetness to disguise it, like a spoonful of crushed glass mixed into a sugar bowl. "...to make the tributes work for their bounty. Questions?"

Derp Cannon was a rather skittish individual. Even though he had worked as a Gamemaker for several years, the heady, suffocating scent of rubbing alcohol that hung in the space between the four hospital-white walls still induced a sense of anxiety in him. The sharp edges, metal trim, and green-blue uniforms were all much too clinical, and even the end of the pen clenched between his teeth tasted sharply of the air surrounding it.

The whole place resembled a doctor's office, and there were few things more terrifying to Derp than doctors. When he was young, he had received the wrong dose of medication and had ended up in a coma that lasted three weeks, which was where his fear had begun.

Now he dreaded doctor visits for an entirely different reason: his girlfriend and fellow Gamemaker, Jacqueline, was pregnant, and instead of only being afraid for himself, he was worrying over what complications might happen when she gave birth to their baby. And how would they hide it? Relationships between Gamemakers were frowned upon, and if Konstance DuMouchel learned of what was happening and didn't like it, they would both be out of a job–or worse.

Jacqueline had been able to conceal her bump for a long time, but at a couple weeks into month six, it was getting progressively larger and more difficult to cover. It was even inhibiting her movement, and when they were at work, Derp and Jacqueline were cordial to one another and acted like coworkers, not partners. Nobody knew they were together in the first place, so Derp could never openly display concern for her when she had to pick up a heavy object or nearly fell over from exhaustion. It was of the utmost importance that he never let anything slip that was even tangentially related to his and Jacqueline's secret. Konstance DuMouchel was all-seeing and all-knowing, and so help you if you accidentally caught her attention.

And he had caught her attention right now. Her watery, serpentine eyes glittered like fine gold filigree, honing in on his unsuspecting self. "So, Derpamachus, what do you think?" His gaze snapped to hers and she locked in on him like a target she knew she would topple without needing to expend so much as an ounce of effort.

"I agree with part of it," he said slowly, stalling for time, pupils frantically darting every which way as he sought an escape. "The first part, to be specific."

"Oh, is that so? The first part of what exactly?" He gulped, fidgeting in his chair, realizing he was backed into a corner.

"I believe he was referring to the bit when you proposed incorporating a variety of deadly mutts in the arena. Obviously we need mutts to keep the Games interesting, but giving each one the ability to kill could result in too quick of a conclusion and deaths that don't provide enough excitement. Personally, I'd suggest including several kinds of mutts with varying levels of danger. That way we can spice things up without dulling the impact of their presence." Jacqueline's sweet, breathy voice rang out from the other end of the conference table, and Derp resisted the urge to sigh with relief. She had rescued him from Konstance, for what was not the first time, and certainly not the last.

"Is that indeed what you meant?" Konstance glared at Derp as though irritated that Jacqueline had ruined her public humiliation of him.

"Yes ma'am, that's just what I was about to say." The cruel laugh, a condescending smile, a snort of dismissal.

"I wouldn't imagine anything else," Konstance simpered, still seemingly trying to bore a hole through him via telepathy. "After all, Derpamachus here is such an incredibly focused, dedicated, and valuable member of our team, is he not?"

"Oh, yes, of course!" Karen quickly agreed.

There was a chorus of equally sycophantic responses from around the table affirming Konstance's words. Derp, not wanting to be singled out again for his lack of concentration, paid careful attention to everything that was said. Konstance rose and tapped a few buttons on a touchscreen, bringing up a colorful holographic image of the arena that appeared in midair. "Now, we have been creating the basic topography of this arena for several months. However, the time has come to begin customizing it. Each of you has been preparing a short presentation about the part you are responsible for, except of course for Jacqueline, who has been assisting me with construction. Rosé, could you please start us off? We were just talking about mutts, after all, and even if you've changed your mind during our discussion, I'd like to hear what you've been planning for us."

Rosé snapped her notebook closed, and, picking up her pen, stood up and strode towards the monitor. She brought up a different holographic image of the arena, and, gesturing with the pen, began to talk rapidly. "Well, as you all can see, the arena is a sort of large oval. A circular arena is more traditional, but we wanted to flatten it out to get a longer, thinner shape to accommodate the segmented approach we're taking. Konstance, as you know, you allowed Jacqueline to map out the arena this year, and I've designed my mutts specifically to complement the trifecta-style layout she chose. But first, your trademark…"

Derp knew very well what was coming. Each Head Gamemaker had their own trademark, which they incorporated in every single Games they oversaw. For instance, Coriolanus Snow, before he became President, was Head Gamemaker, and he always included some form of poisonous vegetation. Seneca Crane, his longstanding Head Gamemaker, featured a wildfire. Konstance always included a snake muttation. And Derp knew that Rosé, the resident mutt expert, had a hard time making snakes exciting over and over again.

"...which I have loosely based off of the Common Krait. As a matter of fact, I have created two variations of it. One is harmless and perfectly edible. The other causes certain, er, side effects if ingested, and is extremely venomous. Aside from that, I had an idea regarding the three sections of the arena and how we could make the Games more exciting, but Jacqueline and I need to devote a little more time to that before we're ready to run it by you. For now, I'll simply give an overview of the other creatures I've been developing."

Rosé carried on with her speech before handing the baton to Karen, who talked for a while about the weather and climate of the arena and why it mattered. Then it was Nigel's turn, and he expounded on the importance of producing a level playing field. Nigel's niche was officially called "Gamemaker-Constructed Perturbation Conflicting with Intra-Arena Tribute Interests via External Influence", but that was one heck of a mouthful, so everyone simply referred to it as Man-Made Materials, or MMMs for short.

As Derp understood it, MMMs were everything the Gamemakers put in the arena to make life harder for the unfortunate souls fighting within it. Literally everything in the arena was technically an MMM, but the term was only used to describe things that didn't ever occur in nature. For instance, a tree wasn't considered an MMM because it could grow on its own in the forest, whereas the Cornucopia was considered an MMM because it couldn't. There were lots of MMMs this year, specifically because Nigel had been working closely with Jacqueline and had concluded that he needed to overcorrect for the disparities Jacqueline's arena would invariably cause.

"All three sections of this arena," Nigel said, "Are tremendously inhospitable. They will result in three groups of tributes: the Fortunate, the Prepared, and the Hopeless. The Fortunate are the Career tributes. They will fight in a pack as they always do and dominate the action during the Bloodbath, amassing the untouched supplies once the outliers have either died or dispersed, and will live off of this considerable stockpile for the duration of the Games, so–"

"Pardon my interruption," Rosé asked, "But what if another tribute destroys it or steals from it?"

"It is unlikely anything will ruin their stores as has occasionally happened in past years, which is because of the unique design of this arena. The land for several miles around the Cornucopia is flat, with no obstructions like plants or hills. No tribute could get closer than a mile without being spotted. The Careers will be sitting pretty with their spoils–enter the Prepared. These are the handful of outer-district tributes with knowledge or experience of wilderness survival. The arena heavily favors them, and they will be more mobile than the other tributes, even the Careers, since they can count on always having food and water."

"Because the arena is pretty harsh this year, not like that cushy forest from last time around," Jacqueline said.

"Right. Which brings us to our last group: the Hopeless. Regardless of whether they're more brainy or brawny, they're in a terrible position. Access to life-sustaining supplies isn't dependable; they can't hunt, track, or gather. A strong, muscular body increases the minimum amount of resources needed for survival, plus it makes it harder to cover long distances since the extra weight tires you out. And the tributes whose skills lie in their thinking have almost no chance of surviving a fight if they happen to encounter another tribute, especially because of the lack of hiding places in two of the sections."

"So," Karen concluded, "Because only a third of the tributes have any real chance and you want to ensure the Games are as exciting and unpredictable as they deserve to be, you're upping the amount of MMMs."

"That's it exactly. Plus, it's my first time behind the scenes as a Gamemaker, and I intend to deliver as steller of an experience as those who came before me. I have a rich legacy to maintain. Now, we all know what the secret to an effective Hunger Games is, right?"

"Variety," Konstance said with finality. "Too much repetition spoils the effect. Folks like to see an underdog gain some traction every now and again, but they also need to feel secure in the Capitol's dominion over the districts. We played it safe for the past few years. Our viewers are growing bored of that routine. So what do we do?" She quirked an eyebrow, like a teacher awaiting the response of a student she knew would be correct.

"We switch up our style."

"Precisely. So tell me, Nigel, about the MMMs you've made to help us orchestrate that switch."

"All of them were made with the arena in mind. You see, thanks to the Cornucopia placement…" Nigel droned on for some time longer, a boring but necessary task, fleshing out the effects of each item he was going to throw into the mix. And then, far too soon, it was Derp's turn. Gathering his notes, he dutifully walked to the front of the room.

"Right. Derpamachus, please enlighten us. Your topic was Preservation. How do you plan on keeping the tributes alive, and how can we terminate them if they step out of line?"

"Obviously the main concerns are food and water, which I have decided to…" Derp was barely aware of his own speech even as he was making it, focusing only on Konstance's tightly knitted brow and the possibility that it was there because of him. He answered the questions posed to him with speed and what he hoped was some degree of correctness. Derp had been a Gamemaker for eight years, so he knew what he was talking about, but he also tended to get flustered easily. And then, at last, he was finished. Konstance was still giving him the hairy eyeball, but that was nothing new, and he was relieved when she started handing out assignments.

Although Derp had no interest in phoning all the escorts, stylists, and other folks who had active roles in the Hunger Games, then individually assigning each one their district of focus, it gave him an excuse to retreat to his desk, which was out of Konstance's sightline. Doing some quick math, Derp knew that there were twenty members of each district's team, plus seven alternates, so that made twenty-seven people multiplied by twelve districts, which meant that Derp had to steel himself in preparation for the three hundred and twenty-four calls he had to make before the workday was over.

He picked up the receiver in hopes of contacting Ariadne Accorso, District One's longtime escort and the first person on his list, when it suddenly started chiming brightly. A name flashed on the display screen. He answered before the first ring had even ended, for this was not a man he wanted to keep waiting. "Hello, Mr. Fassnacht, sir."

"Hello, Mr. Cannon. I have some news for you."

"What is it, sir?"

"Your father will be making use of the Gamemakers' analytics lab this afternoon. I was just about to break it to Konstance, but I thought you deserved a heads up." Derp didn't have half as many issues with his father, Linus Cannon, as he did with Mae Lowland, who was his mother, but the news of his sudden impending arrival was by no means welcome.

"Why is he coming, sir, if I may ask–"

"You may not." Nikolai's sharp tone established that there was no room for argument, but it softened after a moment. "There's another reason I called. I've heard whisperings of a, well, scandal isn't quite the right word. A gross impropriety, I suppose you could say, that I believe might be of particular interest to you."

"Which is?"

"Word on the street is that Jackie Muriel got knocked up, and Ivan Cardozo had a segment on that moronic Candid Capitol gossip show where he speculated that you might be responsible." Derp swore he could feel his heart stop.

"Please tell me you're joking."

"I wish I was, but it's true. I'm sorry, I really do have to go, but I wish you the best of luck in staying ahead of the rumor mill."

"Say, sir–"

Click. Nikolai had hung up. Derp was too late. As he shakily dialed up Ariadne to deliver the rather redundant news that she had retained her position for the eleventh year running, his thoughts remained focused on Ivan, the treacherous man. Ivan Cardozo, the Head Hunger Games Announcer, also had his own television program, where he exposed the most intimate affairs of Panem's elite. Ivan was a man who paid handsomely for information, and, being a gleeful money-hungry fiend, turned around and sold it off to his audience for a quick buck. But that wasn't the only way he profited off of other people's secrets.

If Ivan ruined someone you liked, he was a grifting loan shark who would do anything to fill his pockets. If he ruined someone you didn't, he was a righteous truth seeker who would do anything to reveal the debauchery in modern society. Derp knew how people changed their tune about Ivan depending on who benefited, and right now he had only two thoughts concerning him: who had leaked the information, and what would happen when Konstance found out?


Hey y'all!

I have a few announcements to make today. First, as of the moment, I have received a total of seventeen amazing tributes! The submission cutoff is approaching in a few weeks, so I'd like to offer a strongly worded suggestion to anyone preparing to send in a tribute: thoroughly read the blog in its entirety before you submit them. I've gotten a few otherwise great tributes whose backstories I have to alter because they break the rules and therefore don't make sense in the verse. The blog link is on my profile.

Second, I know all the tributes and you only know yours. A lot of these tributes' backstories fit better with different districts. I see the big picture, and I might change things, but I promise that I don't make these decisions randomly. If I want to make a really big change, I'll talk to you first to make sure you're okay with it. For instance, if I have two D1F submissions for me to decide between and I've filled up the D2F and D4F slots, I might ask if I can move the rejected D1F to an outlying district and make up a new backstory for her. I will always run those big decisions by you first.

Third, I still need tributes. I've spoken to a few people who are considering submitting, but I only have three tributes under the age of sixteen right now, so I'm in the market for a couple of younger kids to round out the cast. I've been preparing materials for the blog and I was just coming up with some ideas for alliances today, and I just want to say that I'm incredibly excited. This is a truly exceptional array of tributes, and I fully plan on doing right by them. In the meantime, feel free to speculate to your heart's content about the chaos in the Capitol!

LC :)