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Created by ShunKazamis-Girl
Hi, the blog has been updated with all the interview outfits, along with a lot of information on the latest chapters and newer tribute information such as scores. Please check it out whenever you have a time, because it is so amazingly created and a lot of hard work and effort has been put into it. ShunKazamis-Girl has helped a lot with the outfits too, especially Decima's beautiful outfit! So please make sure you look!
Auberon Laurier
Being a hundred and one percent honest, I'm utterly bewildered by all these changes to the interviews. I had just picked out and fitted my outfit, gelled my hair up and applied some blush…just to doll myself up for nothing. I might as well just have dressed up normally, as the only person I'll be talking to is Decima.
But at least my outfit looks amazing! I chose a three-piece tuxedo consisting of a dark green floral jacquard blazer with black lapels, along with matching pants and a waistcoat, a white long-sleeved button-down shirt, a black bowtie, and black leather Oxfords. Placed comfortably on my head is a laurel wreath and three golden and emerald rings on each hand to add some more sparkliness.
Oh and I'm carrying a plastic red rose! But does that count with my outfit? I could drop that at any time.
I sit on the black loveseat, flopped down dejectedly as I wait for the crew to finalise setting everything up. I was meant to have a cool walk in that'd woo everyone over, but without the audience and no quick substitution, they decided it'd be better to just start off sitting down.
The only other people in the set who aren't currently working, so the caterers and train staff, are acting as the audience. The illusion isn't helpful at all, as they look as if they don't want to be there. The tension in the room could be cut with a knife, and I'm not really sure why.
"Auberon! Thank you for joining us today…" Decima opens the interview with a jubilant smile as she turns towards me slightly. One eye is still on the camera.
And to every god that's out there, Decima is one of the most stunning women I've ever seen before! She has a dusty pink, purplish-gray, and champagne gold sleeveless gown with an illusion neckline and an ice white star mesh overlay, a white fur shawl, and white velvet booties. Decima's hair is styled into a pull-through halo braid, woven with ice white and metallic thread, while the rest is curled into soft waves. She also has a diamond snowflake brooch on her shawl as a cute cherry on the cake. She looks ethereal and angelic, like a beloved snow queen!
"It's not like I had much of a choice." I smile, trying to make a joke out of it. No reaction, which throws me off a little bit. I try my best not to blush but it's hard.
"This outfit is so impressive! I'm green with envy looking at it."
I look down at my suit covered in flowers and greenery, my creative ideas all feeling a lot more subdued now. How can I even compare to the beauty of Decima?
I hope something will be edited in to fill this horrifying silence. Even I don't bother to be courteous enough to laugh at the awful puns…is that part of her appeal?
"T-thanks! I designed it m-myself." I finally sputter out, really finding it hard to keep focus. My eyes avoid her, as I look around at the stage lights. "I really wanted to encapsulate that feeling...of...err…"
"Being surrounded by nature?"
"Or like...being in a place you totally don't understand and have never experienced before which feels so different and you feel so lost and you don't know how to act or whether you're doing the right thing or if you're making a fool of yourself…" I talk a hundred miles a minute, not really thinking. "Sort of like…being lost in…the woods by yourself at night?"
"Wow, now that is certainly an...outlandish interpretation of it! But I love it!" She smiles as the audience murmurs something.
"R-really? Most people would just laugh at me if I told them that." I mumble noticing how she just completely shut me off.
Decima shakes her head quickly. "No, no…that's so cruel. We'd never do anything like that…"
Trying to find a thanks is like trying to find a way out of an labyrinth right now.
"So Auberon…a little birdie in a tree has told us you've got a little alliance going on…" Decima goes back to the stock questions.
"Y-yeah! Me and…oh, err…Dae!"
It's still hard to block out Rowan's name.
Decima looks intrigued. "Wow…with one of the highest scorers?"
It's odd how they're focusing on a mere number, but it's better than talking about the third alliance member who no longer ezists. "II don't think they should be reduced to a score…like, why don't we talk about how amazing of a friend Dae is instead?"
"Well, the stage's your oyster…"
I look at the generally unenthusiastic crowd, wondering how much better this'd be going if there was a legion of devoted fans stalking my every move. Would I prefer that?
I take a second too long to respond, as Decima moves onto the next stock question. "So Auberon..you managed to score a 4! Now, we've had plenty of winners who've managed to rise to the challenge and…"
"Huh? We've talked more about maths than a third grade numeracy class would!" I groan, not wanting my poor performance to be rubbed in my face.
Decima laughs to a few chuckles in the audience. "I guess so! But the scores are such a big revelation! It's what's on everyone's minds!"
"Don't they have anything better to think of then?"
Baxter Parthenon
I've decided at this point, the interviews are just held for tradition. Nobody wants to be forced through a day of glorified conversations just to finally get what they want, the bloodshed and chaos of the opening of the games.
What more can they find out about me that they didn't already know? My favourite TV show is storage wars? Or that I put milk before the cereal? As it turns out, there are barely any scandals left to uncover that would warrant a crazy response. And I've had almost a week to unveil everything and the well is drying thin.
I struggle to find a comfortable position on the too small chair, my muscly drooping arms unsure on where to rest. It's not hard to tell that all of these changes were a last-minute decision, for they haven't bothered to switch any of the furniture on the sets around like they'd usually do.
And my outfit is being cramped up as I'm stuffed here…like I already feel really hot and stuffy too, having a purple suit with a shawl collar, black jacquard long-sleeved button-down shirt and a purple waistcoat.
As I wait with boredom, I fiddle with all the little extras I'm adorned with. A purple satin tie with a silver embroidered sword, a black handkerchief inside the pocket square, my gunmetal set of skull cufflinks, waistcoat chain and skull ring. Oh and who could forget the grey sword brooch?
If I'm uncomfortable, how must Decima feel in her icy gown? And my slicked back hair can't even compare to her elaborate and perfectly placed hair! Fuck!
"Give a big round of applause for Baxter!" Decima roars to a few weak claps. Why the fuck is she still trying to act is everything is still normal? Post production can't save this mess of a show.
I still bow anyway, not wanting to make it even more awkward for Decima. She's still trying her best, which makes me feel a little bit of pity for her, even if my sympathy reserves are almost dry too. And she is sweating too…I guess she prioritises her looks over her own comfort, but who doesn't? At least she isn't fiddling with the metallic threads and brooches like I am with my accessories.
"Ha, now the real show has finally started!" I read off the flash cards I had prepared in my mind.
Her ears immediately perk up. "Cocky! Are you implying some…scathing insults to the others there?"
I toss and turn in my mind, unsure if I still want to play up this 'extremely conceited and haughty' angle I had planned out. I think back to how nervous Auberon looked on the stage…would it be right to put him down for some clout? Insulting Auberon outright would be like making fun of a little kid, just minding his own business and playing with his little toys. I'djust look like even more of a dickhead.
"Nah, he's actually a cool guy. Sure, he can be a lot to deal with but he's nice. Nobody better be fucking making fun of him." I mumble, feeling like some sort of big brother. The audience reacts positively to this as I gaze back at them, some smiling and even clapping.
Decima is the only one who seems less than pleased. She runs off any potential drama, needing the show's ratings and viewer base to increase drastically. I was meant to be a vehicle for this, but I've been acting off script. How disappointing for them.
"Ooh…feisty! What if…anyone were to attack Auberon in the games?" She asks, knowing it'll elicit a controversial response whatever I say.
So I take a second again to think, instead of letting the words run out of my mouth. "Well, it depends who it is. I know a losing fight when I see one…but I can't see me losing any of the fights against the tributes here." I still play up the cocky attitude slightly. But I hope it comes off as more endearing this time, rather than frustrating.
"Big words for a tribute who only got the third highest score…" she says again, still trying to provoke any response.
"Still higher than ten other tributes, heh."
"That's true! Are you a glass half full sort of guy then? You seem to be quite optimistic." Decima finally let goes, deciding to steer the interview elsewhere.
"Maybe so…I've been…kind of…you know, down in the dumps for a lot of my life. Now I'm finally riding high, I might as well enjoy it." I smile, not even regarding the words that slip out. It's the most vague way possible to address my traumas and struggles, but it'll still get me some sympathy. The audience doesn't have the right to know, but they can pick up on any hints I choose to give out.
"Ah, what an amazing attitude!" Decima smiles to hide any hint of frustration she has.
"Thanks, I don't like to get personal but…"
"But?"
"I'll do anything for a good show. Especially for you, Decima." I wink, laughing slightly. She laughs too, which is certainly captivating.
But whatever illusion she's trying to present is shattered when she tells the staff to cut the cameras, every green light suddenly flashes to a dangerous red. I immediately lean up, no longer wanting to hide any harsh thoughts that blunder into my mind.
"Already? That wasn't even half as long as Auberon's!" I complain, realising it was over before it properly started.
"It's because you're a natural on the cameras, Baxter! We've got enough good footage already!" Decima smiles, though I can't help but suspect it's not the truth.
The interview wasn't heading in the direction I promised it would, so it was cut off before it derailed too far? They clearly have an angle in mind for me that they don't want me straying from. Do they want me to keep conforming into the box they've placed me in? That I've placed…myself in?
I curse, trying not to let the anger overtake my rational mind. This pregames shit is almost over, I don't have to worry about any of this editing bullshit anymore after this…only one more day.
Blu Saint-Germain
I'm indifferent to the sudden changes when it comes to the interviews. I think I like the more calm and slow paced nature of the reimagined version, but I was also prepared to speak to such an enormous audience. I had kind of liked the idea of selling myself to such a large group of people…it'd be easier to clear everyone's preconceptions that way.
I hang on the edge of my seat, the ruffles on my suit feeling itchier than ever as it brushes my skin. I pay no attention to it however as I stare blankly at the empty chair besides me.
Decima eventually sits down next to me, starting it off with some flavour text and a blank smile. She seems disturbed by this new format and I can't blame her. "Wow, Blu, you look so…dapper!" She claps with faux genuineness.
"You think so?" I'm caught off guard, speaking without thinking. "Oh..yeah, your dress looks stunning too!"
Her dress is…incredible. I often marvel at the clothes presented at our little dye shop, but I've never seen a beautiful behemoth of a dress like this before. My simple outfit feels a lot more simple now…
Oh and I am wearing a sky blue three-piece suit with a white dress shirt, waistcoat and light gray tie. To keep this blue, white contrast up, I also have a white plastic rose boutonniere. I do like to keep it simple however, as the only jewellery I have is a golden watch and 5 gold rings with a different gemstone on each one (1 red ruby, 1 yellow citrine, 1 blue sapphire, 1 aquamarine, and 1 purple amethyst). More than I usually would, but it's not a lot for capitol standards and…my hair is also quite simple too. Simply slicked back too, like Baxter's was.
Decima mumbles some thanks. "You're too nice. But this isn't about me, this is about you! And we've got a lot of questions already…"
"Ask away." I apprehensively offer as I stare at the audience. Not impressed…but that's fine. I can work around that.
"Well…so far…you haven't had much screen time…and the fans are curious!" Decima asks, awaiting a response. I blank out as I'm distracted by the audience, causing her to lead the interview on even further. "Are you fine with some more probing questions?"
Time to snap back to reality. "To a certain extent, sure?"
"Cool! So first of all…what have you been doing at the training sessions? Nobody knows what you've been up to!" Decima's drivel goes through one ear and out the other. It takes me a second to respond to everything, as I shuffle awkwardly around on my seat.
"Err…I've been here and there. Dabbled in a bit of everything…maybe it wasn't interesting enough to make the final cut?" I mumble to one sympathy 'aww' in the audience. Pity wasn't what I was looking for as I wanted to keep up this angle of secrecy.
Decima begins to lie as she rubs her ear, feeling for whatever is feeding her lines. "That's definitely not the case. You're super interesting! Everyone's dying to know what's up with you!"
"It seems like everybody thinks I'm some sort of alien, heh." I earnestly laugh, saying it near instantly.
"Wouldn't that be a plot twist…next up, like, do you have anything you want to say about your family? You said a lot about it in your promos but we haven't heard much since!" Decima asks which annoys me a little. Is that really what they think?
It's not what I wanted…for them to know so little about my love for my family. That was meant to be another thing about his carefully crafted image that I'd let out.
At least it'd be better to clear the air now.
"I still want to respect their privacy so I won't divulge too much…but…"
"Take your time."
"We're like a well oiled machine?" I suddenly come up with to a single laugh. One audience member is really getting into this…
Decima fills the silence too by laughing a lot more loudly. Maybe they'll edit something in to make me seem charming somehow? "Ha ha, what do you mean by that?"
"We get on so well together…it's like we're one person when we're working?"
It's a lot easier to continue now. I have my head in the game now and I don't stir over my words anymore. Everything I say just comes out naturally…and I'm sort of enjoying himself too. Maybe it is much better without an audience.
Dae Frazier
I eagerly await on my chair. I quickly forget how long the wait for Blu to finish was, as my once unsteady anxiousness has been quelled by the overwhelming excitedness. Feeling gorgeous in my outfit, I quickly shake Decima's hand to finally get this train rolling.
Oh, but my outfit is so beautiful! I no longer have to rap my walking cane against the floor, with an ivory rabbit carved on top, or tug at the red ribbon top of my straw boater hat, or marvel at my mascara, foundation and concealer in the reflection of my golden watch. All the details fit my yellow single-breasted suit blazer, matching dress pants, and navy blue long-sleeved dress shirt. I also have a cute pair of 2-inch double monk strap shoes too.
"Hi, Dae! How are you feeling?" Decima starts it off simple.
"Err…completely over the moon! Like, this place kind of feels like the moon actually!" I rattle off, having no trouble answering the simple question. I was a bit worried with the whole 'on the spot' nature of the interview at first, but now I've realised how patient and understanding Decima is. She'll ease us into everything, so there's no need to feel worried.
Decima laughs, as it seems like she flips through an imaginary set of flashcards."It is very unique compared to the rest of the Capitol."
I smile, waggling my feet nervously, as I wonder what to say next. "Yeah, I've never been anywhere like it before! I've never been outside much at all actually…but now's the time to change that!"
Aah, that probably wasn't the best thing to say, was it? Now I just look like a…sad neet! I should have clarified that I wasn't allowed to go out. But would that make me seem like a freak?
"You go! So…what's your favourite part about the facility then?" Decima wonders, keeping it simple still.
"The beds? They're a lot softer than my rock hard mattress…oh, and all the friends I've made!" A few people laugh actually, which makes me beam. They've been so unresponsive so far, so it's a good sign I'm doing well.
Decima prys a little further. "That's what we're more used to hearing…any gossip or news…or just anything you'd like to say about them?"
"You know I'm not the type to gossip…" I frown, not liking the direction this is heading in. I don't want to shit talk (pardon their language) anyone up here. That'd be mortifying for the recipient, surely?
"Really?"
I nod, perhaps a bit too vigorously. "Yeah. Actually…I do have something I'd like to say! There's this cool guy, Rowan…you might have heard of him…well he's kind of being odd at the moment?"
If I have to talk down on the other competitors, I'm going to try to twist it around and make it a positive thing. This is probably the best place to try. As cruel as it sounds, it might have the most impact on Rowan. If he realises so many people know now about how foolish he's been acting, he may change his mind over all of this alliance shenanigans.
"How come?"
"We're good friends, right? But he…err…"
But that's when I lose their words, the thoughts falling into an empty chasm. There's a bit of shuffling in the audience, the ordinarily normal actions becoming amplified in the awkwardness of the set. I clamp onto my cane, bringing it closer to me as I can't help but turn around.
A faceless figure from the crowd shouts out:
"DEPOSE ANNOA FRAZIER!"
"H-huh?" I feel the words slip out of my sewn up mouth. Confusion obscures my mind as I struggle to understand what could motivate such a heated and targeted action. To interrupt my interview to spread this message…what could my mother have done to motivate this?
"How inappropriate…don't worry about this Dae…" Decima looks very awkward, as they shoot daggers at the security guard. I look around to see how any of the audience react, to see if they agree, or think it's inappropriate too or if they're just as confused as I am…
"They said…Annoa, didn't they? That's my mother…" I mutter the obvious, dropping the cane on the floor. I feel the heat of the lights suddenly cling to me.
"I don't know?" Decima offers an unconvincing lie, now standing up and walking over to the cameramen. The red lights cut off as they begin to whisper intensely.
"DEATH TO ANNOA FRAZIER!"
I feel a pin drop in the void of their mind, as a sudden realisation washes over me. They really hate her, don't they? But the only thought that echoes is 'why?'. Why are they ruining such a special moment for this?
"D-death? They must not…like her? Why?" Imutter, feeling betrayed almost, whether it's at the facility for allowing this to happen, or their mother for keeping whatever it is hidden, or the crazy staff member for even thinking it's acceptable to shout something so cruel. Tears collect in my eyes as I keep looking around, not having the courage to look at anyone else's eyes either.
Decima heads back to the seat, clearly annoyed and frustrated by the sudden chaos of the situation. The audience begin to murmur and shuffle too, which isn't helpful in the slightest. "Erm, no, no. It's just a few hecklers...you get them any time you go on stage. You'll get used to ignoring them eventually."
"They're not just hecklers. W-why don't people like her? W-what has she done wrong?" I don't like how I'm being spoken down to like I'm a child…and how everyone seems to be walking on eggshells around me.
I-I deserve to know what's going on…
"This isn't really appropriate right now Dae-" Decima tries to defuse the situation, handing me the cane back and trying to pitifully console me by patting my shoulder.
But I push her away, standing up instead with shaky legs. "Please, tell me. I-I'll...I'll storm off! Then you won't have a proper interview with me…"
It's an empty threat, as I don't have the courage to run either. And I feel so childish acting out like this, but if they're going to treat me like a child, I'll act like one.
My weak protests don't work well on the more reasonable Decima. "That goes directly against your contract, Dae."
"S-so?"
I begin to shuffle to the end on the small stage, taking one large step at a time. A guard comes to usher me off the stage too, clearly wanting to settle the situation without a certain unruly interviewee being present.
Decima sprints after me, feeling like they have to explain what's going on. "Fine…I…I'll give you a brief rundown. Don't make too much of a fuss." She eventually settles on as we're lead through the now barren corridors, to the backstage waiting room.
"I promise…"
Once we're in an empty room, where we waited for the fashion show, does Decima finally decide to explain.
"Well, err…Annoa used to have a lot of dealings with District 11…and some of her more controversial policies led to…mass starvation there, after she…cut down the levels of food distributed there and…it had a domino effect, causing a major lack of supplies here too…" Decima struggles to piece it together as they stare at my face, my entire world slowly falling apart, chunk by chunk.
"But why would she do that? Mother…she'd never punish anybody like that!" I struggle to fathom how such a generous, sweet woman who had done nothing but love me could be so malevolent. Did I even know who my mother truly was, or had she crafted a perfect image for me to admire too?
Is that why I was sheltered all those years? To hide me from knowing the truth of what Annoa had done? Was ruining all those citizens of 11's and Capitolites' lives not enough for her? Did she have to ruin my life too? Was she just a coward too, like I am now?
"I...I'm not sure." Decima can't even offer a helping hand as the tears stream down my face.
Is this…really all true?
It can't be, can it?
Nefeli Brightberry
I can't help but feel like something is off as we descend onto the stage. If I had to sum up the atmosphere, it'd be something like…entering a home after your closest loved one has passed. The inhabitants strive for any sense of normalcy through hushed up whispers and attempted ignorance, but there's no denying that something has changed. You can really feel the loss still.
Of course, it isn't that drastic…but I still notice it. She has to take a few deep breaths as I not so casually plonk myself down, feeling very strange in this dress they've stuffed me in.
Might as well get this interview over and done with as quickly as possible. Then I can go back to mentally preparing myself for the games tomorrow in my dingy room.
"Now it's…the controversial Nefeli's turn!"
"Controversial? Is that the best pejorative you have for me?" My eyebrows furrow. How distasteful…isn't the idea to make me feel comfortable and ready for whatever probing shit they have to do?
Decima smiles, looking like a maidenly figure. Like she doesn't want to say such insulting shit, but it's just her job. "It's not what I'd call you, but it's the reputation you've built for yourself…"
I sigh, kicking the armchair slightly. "I wonder why that could be."
"Well, why did you decide to wear that...simple outfit on the runway?"
There it is. The question I've come to expect, in all ir's glory, but never planned an answer for. I knew it was inevitable, but acknowledging it just frustrated me further. And I knew whatever response I could sum up, it wouldn't be good enough for the audience, so I just…threw every scrap paper into the bin and tore the drawing board down.
"What better way to stand out by blending into an ordinary Capitol citizen when they're not dressed up? Maybe it was like…an art piece, meant to make you think about our raw naked vibes that we try to cover up…" I eventually settle on, hoping by framing it up as some sort of pretentious artwork, they'll stop pestering me about it.
I also have to quell the allegations and accusations of rebellion. As much as I have had my clashes with the city, I'd still rather not be beheaded or shot by a firing squad.
"How artsy and creative…but something tells me you're not telling the truth, Nefeli." Decima seems displeased. Why can't she take my words at face value?
"And something tells me you're being incredibly nosy, Decima. It's a think piece for a reason." I smile, shutting down all further conversation. If I don't feel comfortable speaking, I don't have to.
"Ah, there's so many feisty tributes this year!"
I kick my chair again, finding a rhythm almost. "She sounds like a fan favourite too. Oh well, we can't all be popular, can we?"
I hope my attempts at self deprecation work well.
Decima shrugs too. "You might be. I'm sure you'll prove yourself in the games though. Do you think you're able to win?"
"Hmm...I have the same chance as everybody else does. And I don't see why it should be different. In fact, it'd be the same even if all of my limbs were chopped off."
Decima doesn't seem to react well. Something tells me that Decima isn't the biggest fan. She's only been condescending so far. Isn't it unprofessional to play favourites so obviously?
Ah well, I didn't expect a legion of fans coming into this. Whilst I hoped the staff would at least be positive towards me, I can't truly bank on anyone's support.
"Heh, you'd have to roll around there!" Decima finally jokes, which I laugh a long too, like a prerecorded track.
"It'd be a hell of a lot more entertaining than sitting up here." I properly bite back for the first time.
"How sweet…can I just change the topic? Nefeli, I think you look absolutely beautiful like this…"
The sudden whiplash knocks me out, as I can barely stand to look at Decima's motherly smile and open arms. At first I expected it to be some cruel joke because why wouldn't it be…but Decima doesn't go back on her words. She actually meant it…and it feels kind of nice. Like a fuzzy warmth in the pit of their stomach.
I've been trying to ignore my overdone appearance, but I can't keep pushing it back. It's simple to everyone else's, even to Decima's admittedly breathtaking masterpiece.
It's just a burgundy high-collared skater dress with long lantern sleeves, a high waist, flared knee-length skirt, and lace cut-outs, as well as black combat boots. Like…of course it looks wonderful, but I'd never parade this around!
And they had to deck my hair and face like this. My hair is styled into a wavy high ponytail with concealer, dark pink blush, and vivid red lipstick as make-up. At least they left the jewellery alone, only handing me pearl drop earrings with gold hooks.
I still can't stand to look at her however. "T-thanks. You look amazing too."
"Thank you too. Seeing how you look so incredible, don't you feel more confident? Or comfortable?" Decima tries to frame it as genuine curiosity, from a place of well intentions but it does feel mocking. But I refrain myself from showing any anger, just awkwardly smiling as I notice the cameras in the corner of my eyes.
"I feel different…but that's not how I'd describe it. I guess…I just feel slightly out of my usual waters. It doesn't feel right." I play with the hem of my dress, not sure whether I should be honest. I don't want to give in to those who have mocked me for so long, but it would make ny time here a hell of a lot easier.
Decima blinks a few times, looking up and down at their shoes once. "That's a shame. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable but…I'm grateful you did decide to wear this. At least you never have to do it again, right?"
"R-right…maybe next time you'll be interviewing me on the Victor's podium, I'll have some makeup too though." I then start to fiddle with my sleeves. It's a promise I'm not sure if I'll fulfill, but it sounds like a sweet promise nonetheless.
"That'd be amazing too. But no pressure, hey?"
"No pressure…maybe it'll be my own choice though." I wonder, still undecided.
But whatever good will has been created in the final moments of the interview is destroyed, as all the stage lights begin to flicker, before suddenly cutting out. Everybody is submerged in a pool of darkness.
I'm barely able to make out the figure of Decima, let alone the dozens of faces looking confused in the audience. The fuzziness fades within me and is replaced by an annoyed frustration. What could have been a core memory has now been replaced by the lasting impression of the sudden darkness.
They quickly turn back on after a minute, but it's still distracting. At least it happened at the end and not half way through. That'd be even worse, if I was thrown off her flow because of something she couldn't even help. Oh well…
Osiris Casimir
The constant flickering of the lights is distracting, but at least it fucks up the overly produced perfect ambience they seem to be going for. And it also gives me a little more time to try to work out my grand speech and iron out the rough edges, which is an opportunity I could never turn down.
After an extra ten minutes of waiting and a lot of fiddling with the power, they seem to have finally fixed whatever problem was perplexing them. I'm carried to my seat, making me feel a little helpless and juvenile. But the more I focus on such frustrating emotions, the more it'll distract me, so I hide them in my pocket and zip them up for now.
I was hoping I'd get to deck my wheelchair out again though! At least I look incredibly dapper, even if it's a more disappointing alternative. I have a grey check three-piece suit with peak lapels at the blazer and 4 buttons at the cuffs. I also chose a white dress shirt which I've left with an undone top button, a matching waistcoat, black tie. And don't forget the little royal blue handkerchief. All the little details matter. For jewellery and accessories, I'm wearing silver cufflinks, a silver watch, and 1 diamond eternity ring on each finger.
"Give a massive welcome to...Osiris!" Decima wastes no time jumping into it. I think I prefer the faster pace, even if everything has seemed to slow down so drastically recently.
"Ah, the sound of your claps is like water to a man...dying in a desert in the Hunger Games or whatever the saying is." I sarcastically mumble to a pitiful amount of fanfare. I wonder how painful it'll be after post production and editing.
Decima acts as my biggest supporter, laughing along too. "It's definitely somewhere along those lines!"
"Eh, close enough. I can't be a walking dictionary...or err...rolling, ha!"
No one bothers to laugh this time. The editors will cut that out…
They won't, will they?
"So Osiris...coming into this, I've noticed you have a sort of well known reputation, don't you?"
I turn around to look at the previously unused screens, the dimly lit devices flashing through a bunch of videos I've posted. The views only get larger and larger, as they begin to outnumber the amount of views the Saturn Games videos get (which are displayed next to it.)
I can only laugh as I realise how much the show is depending on me as a stunt cast. It makes me feel more powerful, even if I don't want such a twisted rendition to get into my mind. It's an odd relationship, as I'm still clearly being heavily controlled by the producers and all their contracts despite their overreliance on me.
"Little ol' me? Never did I think I'd be so well known to such a famous celebrity like you!" I fake humbles myself, shrugging a little bit.
"How could I not know you? You're definitely on the footsteps of greatness!" Decima compliments, which I can only nod along to, smiling. "Maybe one day...the roles will be swapped around and you'll be the celebrity here."
I cheekily laugh. "I can't wait for that day to come!"
Decima laughs along too, but chooses not to make a comment. "Anyway...what were we talking about? Ah, I was going to ask how you had planned to deal with this reputation and all the expectations everybody has of you in the games. What are you going to do in the arena?"
"Where's the fun if I spoil my entire plan though?"
After saying that, I imagine there would be an eruption of claps. The uncharacteristic silence throws me through a loop, as I'm not sure how to react. My entire plan depended on the positive feedback I was meant to get, as I would have been able to gauge and adjust as a result.
Now I just feel odd. This was meant to be the best part of my time here and…I'm not enjoying this at all.
"There's nothing wrong with a little hint though." Decima teases, as I struggle to answer nearly immediately like I did before. Every response had been snappy and well timed, but now my flow has been messed up and I just…don't have the energy to be funny. But there's no excuses.
"Hmm...my hint is...to not underestimate me! Even if it doesn't seem like it, I'm always planning something...and it'll always be bigger and better than before! And even if it doesn't seem possible with these legs...I'll find a way. Don't count me out because of it." I settle on, my more charming facade dropping, as I show a more rawer angle.
This was a part of my big speech, but it was never this segmented and unnatural. If it sounds less rehearsed, perhaps it'll seem more convincing. I'm hoping my predicted popularity will only help me persuade more people.
"Oh we'd never!" Decima gives some stock answer to speed it along. Even if there's a twinkle in her eyes and her dimples are so cute, her attempts to shut me down make her seem so cruel.
"That's not what my fellow competitors seem to think." I look down, cutting eye contact from the cameras or Decima for the first time too.
"They're discounting you? That doesn't seem fair." Decima mumbles, finally adding something more of a value.
My voice finally stops wavering, as I puff my chest a little. "That's because it isn't fair. But I've grown used to it in this city…usually I'm not able to speak up about raising awareness, heh. So I want to use this opportunity to speak about it."
"Well, this is your stage! Go on!"
"Thanks! I know I can't really…deconstruct everyone's thinking patterns and prejudices by myself…but I at least hope my performance in the arena will be able to convince someone that maybe…maybe I shouldn't be written off immediately. Maybe I do have the potential to do shit, you know?" I struggle to find how to end it off.
"Do shit?" Decima mumbles, giving it over to me once more. Even if she doesn't want any rebellious speeches, she also has a greediness for passion in interviews that will garner attention.
"Yeah, like…make shit happen! I'm not any less capable! Maybe like…there aren't the facilities to help me sometimes, which makes everything more challenging, but I can try. We just need more funding into the education sector to teach everyone about the innings and outings of…awareness around disabilities, and some funding into making the city accessible for everyone…and also try to pass laws to ensure those with disabilities can be employed more easily? More representation will always be nice too…"
"Well…I'm sure the President is listening! Hopefully they're just as captivated by you as we are." Decima cuts me off, just as I felt I was getting into the groove of things. I still have so much in mind, but what can I do when the lights are directed back onto Decima. The audience clap respectfully too, perhaps the largest reaction they've given so far.
Maybe it was enough. I'm still not satisfied, but I wear a smile. I made some progress and now I just have to hope it actually amounts to something. I shouldn't let this amazing opportunity go to waste.
"Hopefully so!"
No response is given however, as Decima quickly stands up. No finishing applauses, or thank you's. I shuffle slightly, falling to the back of my seat. I can feel my heart skip a beat, as I wonder if my unrehearsed speech tiptoed on the edges of being too rebellious.
I'm not as dumb as my wild actions would suggest. I know what is and isn't acceptable to say in this free city, which is why I had planned to sort of skirt around the issue and dilly dally. Even if I feel like my message needs to be screamed into every citizen's ear. It's just when I get into the groove of things and overcome my nerves, it's easier to just…say what comes naturally, so I get carried away.
But my momentary nerves are settled, as I can just about make out what Decima is whispering. "Dae…not in the waiting room…you've checked the cameras?"
As I try to tune in, I notice the lights on the cameras turn off and my mic makes an odd vibrating noise. It overwhelms Decima's unusual panicky whispers, stopping me from hearing the truth. I hesitate to take it off, not knowing what's going to happen after she decides to sit down. I could be punished, for they've made it very clear not to tamper with any of the equipment given to us.
I can't get any closer (not that they'd let me find out what was happening, even if I could.), but the general gist of what I've gathered is…Dae has done something wrong? I would have never striked them as a rule breaker, but they've broken a lot of expectations recently.
Perhaps it's confirmation bias, but Dae did always seem a bit off. Too…perfect a lot of the time. Like they were always on the side of the fence where the grass is greener, despite the unignorable wildfire slowly consuming the rest of the garden. Or maybe I'm just a stone hearted bitch who assumes that nobody can truly be happy constantly.
But whatever rules have been broken is more of a mystery to me. Not remaining in the waiting room seems completely fine to me. Maybe Dae is deathly mortified after completely flubbing their interview? Or maybe they need a break from the cameras due to their overwhelming nerves. That's somewhere in the contract, even if I can barely remember reading it. (I may have skimmed over a lot of it.)
But before I can pick up any other scraps of information, I'm suddenly hoisted up by one of the officials and plucked back into my chair. I leap to bring up the touchscreen, to desperately try to direct myself off course, but the guard has other ideas. I'm wheeled away as if I lack the capability to do it myself.
It make sense if people are missing, that they'll want to keep every other tribute close to them and under supervision at all times but…
Fuck this! I don't have to like this!
"Hey, don't wheel me off! What's going on?" I declare, to absolutely no response. I wasn't sure what I was expecting, other than maybe being treated my own age? It's not like I'm a little child who needs to be shushed up and protected from all the dangers of the world.
"I can make my own way back!" I then plea, not even sure why I care that much. "Did you listen to my speech? About how we're…not as less capable as any other able bodied person…"
But I eventually give up, realising my attempts are just coming off as if I'm trying to guilt the guard, even if they're earnest heartfelt emotions. The official clearly doesn't care, so what's the point at screaming at a brick wall? I'm just riling myself up for no reason…
Gratiana Lamb
I struggle to remember how I felt prior to this. I know a part of me was pushing back my nerves to a small corner in my mind, where it was easy to cover up and pretend as if it didn't exist.
But with all this…missing staff and mysterious lights shenanigans, every butterfly has been captured in the net of my stomach. This all seems like something out of a shitty knock off mystery novel, but whatever's going on has only stressed me out further and further.
The fact I had to be escorted by a guard with a glock does nothing to quell my nerves. How had I been so unobservant to never notice the concealed weapon? Or was this a sudden change?
But that only raises more questions…
What prompted this potential change? And who do they want to use these weapons on?
"Oh wow, Gratiana...you look like a deity in the dress." Decima compliments me, bringing me back to the same astral plane as everyone else. I stop fiddling with the blanket of tulle, sitting upright once more.
My outfit is…a lot. But it has to be in a show like this. It's an orange tulle halter gown with a floor-length A-line skirt and 3D embroidered blossom cups at the bodice. I don't mind it all however, even the orange peep-toe high heels.
My hair has also been styled wonderfully, into a few thin braids. I also applied fake volumized eyelashes, contouring, yellow eyeshadow, and yellow lipstick as make-up. And for jewellery, I'm wearing small golden hoop earrings and a gold bangle bracelet lined with diamonds on each wrist.
"T-thank you! It was...designed after one my late mother's dresses. I'd like to think I look half as beautiful as she did…" I can barely get it out, a tinge of melancholy dripping from every word. Exactly what I need right now…tears collecting in my eyes and distracting sniffles.
If Decima is upset by this, she doesn't show it. "Aww, sweetpea…I'm so sorry…"
"No, no, don't worry about it…" I desperately try to change the topic, but I stop when I realise how I'm talking over Decima. What a mess of a show so far.
"If you want to talk about her, we can…but only if you're comfortable. We can talk about whatever you want." She says, empathetically and truthfully speaking from her heart.
"Ah, thanks! I don't want to focus on Mummy too much though! I'll start crying…and that would make a terrible interview, wouldn't it?" I cover up my clear emotional agony with a cute smile. I can feel myself fluster and burn up, as a rodeo of emotions is provoked in my mind.
Decima leans forward. "No, no…we don't want to upset you though. Should we talk about something else then?"
"Whatever floats your boat…you're the interviewer!"
"Ok…can I just say I feel like I recognise you from somewhere?"
The dreaded question…I could tell this was inevitable, which is why I planned it out with Willow and Miri beforehand (along with like…another hundred of the most likely to appear questions! But this kept popping up.)
So predictable and…boring. Me being related to Herminia will barely impact my performance and it isn't even a defining trait about me. We're not even similar in the slightest! They're making mounds out of mole hills.
"I hope you would, hee hee!" I tease the audience.
"Are you like a model?"
"Flattering! You're too nice!" I cover up my face with my hands, overexaggerating my embarrassment. But really, her jokes are a little bit too much!
Decima suddenly clasps her hands on her face. "Really…oh! I know! Didn't I interview you're sister, Herminia?"
"Yeah, she was a tribute and a huge fan favourite! She helped modify this dress for me! And she gave me tons of tips and tricks for these games!"
Should I be saying this? Probably not…it's only establishing me as more of a threat.
Does it make this interview more interesting? Maybe? We just need to see which direction it heads in. But maybe it's more of a winning situation? The losses and the wins are at an equilibrium, though this could be reversible.
"I'm sure that's a helpful advantage to have then."
"Definitely! But at the end of the day, advice can't carry for skills or knowledge. Herminia isn't the one sitting in this chair right now…and she won't be the one fighting for me in the arena." I establish, putting a lot more passion in my voice. This is what I really wanted to get at, though I realise the potential controversies are all that'll linger.
"Certainly! You're a very different person! So, how's your love life back home Gratiana?" Decima suddenly asks. That segway was not smooth at all…
I see something in the corner of my eye. People standing up, presumably to let someone get to the aisles. It's one of the first sign of movements, though Decima doesn't seem to notice.
"It's going so well! I've got a girlfriend, Soph! She's the most amazing woman in the world! We get along like two peas in a pod." I smile, no longer focusing on any of the annoyances. Complimenting Soph comes so easily, I don't even have to overthink this!
Decima claps and smiles. "Now isn't that lovely! Did Herminia give you any love tips too?"
I can't even hide my sigh, as what I feared was going to happen is happening. I'm seen as nothing more than a clone of my sister, all the opinions the audience have on Herminia being transferred onto me. They clearly care more about her than me, which is why Decima is so desperate to redirect it to Herminia.
"Err, no...not really! We've just got along well ever since we met in that science lab one day. It was like a dream…" I smile, struggling to cover up my disappointment.
But something catches my attention once more. The person who was getting up…starts to head down the aisle. A stupid hope comes to fruition, that they just want to grab one of the closer empty seats at the front. Maybe it's just a super fan of Herminia?
"I better not pinch you then…" Decima giggles, still not noticing. The lighting makes it harder to tell and her mic is probably drowning out all other noise, so that makes sense. I don't even attempt a response though as the audience member speeds up.
Another security guard steps out. Grati had hazarded a guess that this is unplanned, but this confirmation only scares me more. Yet another oddity stacked upon a tower of oddities…
But everyone's blissful ignorance is shattered in seconds. As they emerge into the stage light, I quickly realise the man is covered in a balaclava. Not a single bit of skin can be seen other than the sickly dyed green patches underneath the eyes. And…a bright creepy blue stare, too perfect to be natural.
Decima can barely turn to react when…
BANG!
The slump of the guard's body is covered by the harsh ringing in her head. I can barely register what's going on, before I'm grabbed by a coarse hand on her neck. I squirm and writhe as I'm lifted by the masked man, another guard coming to grab me by my arms.
I can just about breathe as I try my best to fight back. A crimson pool rises on the stage as I kick with her heels, trying to jab and pierce at their skin. The adrenaline makes my head scream and almost burst, as the guard's passing is long gone in her mind.
If I want to survive, I can't focus on the tragedies around me…even if I want to collapse at the sight of the lifeless twitching body below me. To the left is a passed out Decima, her fate not known. No blood is seeping but…I didn't capture what happened. I can't say it's Decima, as there's no twinkle in her eye, no infectious laugh, no spring in her step…it's…an imitation. And the thought of the change makes her want to break down.
My pitiful attempts at kicking clearly don't work, as they try to yank my shoes off. A blindfold is hastily tied over my eyes after. A few seconds later, I can feel myself being shoved onto a less comfortable chair.
And the last thing I hear is a choir of bullets descending on the hall.