Hannibal Calderon, 50

Head Gamemaker

Hannibal rubbed his temples with a soft groan. It was only nine in the morning and he already had a killer headache. His wife was trying to convince him to wean off caffeine, but as a Head Gamemaker, he depended on it heavily.

Besides, he had to choose his successor this year as well. Next year was the 100th Hunger Games, and his successor had to be perfect. He had two options, and was completely torn between them.

Hannibal considered his options. He could pick a more senior Gamemaker with not enough flair or pizzazz, or he could choose one of the twins. Atalanta and Malakai were ambitious and skilled, but they competed fiercely. Choosing one would ruin the other.

In his heart, Hannibal knew exactly what he wanted. He favored one over the other. But he couldn't make the call. The team was divided over the twins as well. Half of them preferred Atalanta, and the other half liked Malakai best.

With a groan, Hannibal slammed his folders down on the desk and stood up, nearly tipping his chair. He shrugged his coat on and stalked out. Most of his team was still working, but he needed to get out there. His head was pounding.

His chauffeur drove him home quickly, and Hannibal staggered up the front steps, nodding to the Peacekeepers who stood guard over his house every night. Inside, the sound of soft piano music was echoing through the halls, and Hannibal drifted towards it. Heloise must be practicing, he thought.

Sure enough, his daughter sat at the piano, her fingers dancing delicately over the keys. Hannibal stepped into the parlor, ruffling her hair before going to sit beside his wife, who was reading a book.

"Honey, can we talk?" he whispered. She looked up, noting his worried face, and nodded, following him into the kitchen.

Hannibal turned to the nearest Avox.

"Get me some coffee," he ordered. She bowed her head and scurried off, leaving his wife Melliora to fold her arms and glare at him.

"Coffee is not good for you," she lectured. Hannibal rolled his eyes.

"Melli, I know. Now isn't the time. We have two months until the arena needs to be ready and our water pressure is all over the place! This is my last year. I need to choose my successor! Both the twins want my job, and I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

He ran a meaty hand through his canary-yellow hair and groaned loudly. Melliora clasped his hand in hers.

"Honey, just breathe. You have an excellent team of mechanics. They'll solve the issue. And as for which Whitelock twin gets the job? Only time will tell. Observe them during these Games. See who takes charge, and who does it well. You'll figure it out. I know you will."

She stretched up and gave him a gentle kiss before guiding him back to the parlor.

"Now come, Heloise wants to show you the new song she learned."

This was written by Fiona before I decided to take it on as a solo project because of some private stuff but anyway, I'm going to be using this as a bit of a relaxation from THC and my other stories. So, expect some most likely quick updates at first. I'm going to be posting a second prologue maybe sometime today, so look out for that! Also...I don't want to be like this but the tributes you have submitted here, are going to stay here. I don't want anyone saying they want to take their tributes back.

See you in prologue 2!

-James