((Author's note is at the bottom this time, as it will be for all future chapters!))

Diminia Valdez - Head Game Maker

July 15th, 10 pm:

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What were once quickened breaths are shortened to long, deep exhales as Diminia runs a pale hand through dark hair, her hand looking even more sickly with the rich brown locks drowning it. Trying to help create the games was bad enough; staying after-hours, filling up sketchbook after sketchbook with drawings and ideas, binders of notes jumbled across her desk space. That was one thing. It was a whole other thing entirely when out of the middle of no where your superior "quits", leaving the half-finished work to none other but... Yourself. It wasn't that any of the old stuff went away; no, of course not. That would be too easy. Rather, the to-do list only piles up. Assign jobs, contact stylists, check design, edit mutts, check arena, contact mentors, check on jobs, host meetings, report back to the President themselves. All while still trying to keep your creative juices flowing well enough to actually make the games worth watching. One mistake, one screw up, one game that was less-than-rememberable and it all fell on her.

Honestly? She wasn't sure it was a responsibility she was ready to handle. She wasn't even sure it was a responsibility she wanted to handle. But it wasn't as though she necessarily had a choice anymore. The risks outweighed the benefits, and she was starting to believe the work outweighed the pay too.

Maybe it wasn't even that bad. She had always wanted the job. Dreamed of it as a kid, studied for it as a teenager, got her first internship as a starry-eyed lanky girl, barely out of high school, crooked glasses and a pencil tucked behind her ear. It was everything she ever wanted. So how could it really be that bad? Maybe she was just stressed...

Yeah. Stress. That had to be it. Breathing exercises - those were supposed to help, right? At the very least, they could do no harm.

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Rinse and repeat.

Calming thoughts - escape from the work a while. There was no good at sitting in her desk while she wouldn't get anything done either way. At the very least she could pace around the hallways, visualize what she had to get done, what she wanted to achieve before the night was over. It wasn't like there was any superior to bark orders at her for not staying focused; she was the only one left in the building. And besides, wasn't she her own superior now? Aside from the President, but she didn't count that.

She pushes away from her desk, one foot after the other leading her away from the office and into the hallway, heels making clicks that echo through the high-ceilinged building with each step. Calming thoughts. Calming thoughts...

Not that they were necessarily calming, but in exciting (and nerve-inducing) news, the reapings were tomorrow! It was a day Diminia had been eagerly awaiting for months; a day that now, with it only being a few hours away, seemed dauntingly close. It only meant the games were that much sooner.

Don't get her wrong - reaping day had always been a favourite of hers. When she was a child she would watch the screening of every one, jealous that the Capitol children couldn't volunteer too. (She always thought her brother could give Districts One and Two a run for their money.) Even after she grew up and reached nineteen, The Games were still a favourite of hers. The chariot rides, the interviews, the glamour of it all. The reapings. Of course her favourite part was the Games themselves, with the technology and design and innovation and excitement, but if she had to pick a second? The reapings would be her go to. The emotion, the excitement. Plus, as a game maker, it was always an exciting day to see who your tributes are - to add those final touches to the arena and mutts that would make it a personal hell just for them. To make it exciting.

Thinking about it, she couldn't help but feel more excited. She also couldn't help but notice her breathing had slowed down, her head back into a better place. Perhaps reaping day was just the push she needed after all. Daunting nonetheless, but enough to push her through. To excite her again.

A slight smile brushed onto her thin lips as she made a sharp turn down the hallway, entering her office space once more as she plopped into her chair, grabbing her pencil and chewing on the end of it as she dove deep into thought. A final kick tonight, then she could rest. Tomorrow was when the real business happened.

((OKAY! So, welcome to prologue 2! I wasn't planning on making another prologue for this, but I still need a total of TWELVE tributes before I can start writing the reapings, so I thought I'd put out a quick update on this for a few reasons. 1) I want to get this back up on the search list so more people can see it. 2) I thought it would be nice to get back into my writing style and let you guys see something that was a little bit more in depth than the last chapter. AND 3) I wanted to develop our newly appointed HEAD gamemaker a little bit more, as she might pop up again! ANYWAYS, I would love to see a few more submissions for this. I've decided exactly how I want to format the reapings, and I really want to start writing them this weekend but I still need the rest of the tributes to do so. If I don't get enough I can always just have a few appointed bloodbath characters that I throw in, but being able to write your characters would be so much more fun! THE FORM AND OPEN SPOTS ARE IN MY BIO, PLEASE IM ME IF YOU WANT TO SUBMIT OR RESERVE A SPOT! (If you're reading this and you have already submitted, thank you so much for your wonderful characters, I can't wait to start writing with them all!) Anyways, I'm so excited to start actually diving into this! (You know, instead of just chilling around with 600 word prologues every week, lol). Thank you to all who have submitted or are planning to; see you all soon!)