His lips are sky-blue, toxic and glorious.
He smiles with them but they don't quite work well in tandem- his lips fit together but not like you'd expect them to. He's had a lot of cosmetic surgery and while the Capitol's cleanest butchers are experienced in what they do they aren't nature and they can't be perfect. His smile is uneven but, ah well, he paints it beautifully.
Caesar Flickerman smiles as the light hits his lips, and the crowd cheer.
He is being, for the pageantry of such a rare event, beamed across Panem. All citizens can watch him, see him, and this level of power is a trust of a butterfly landing on his hand- Snow will flutter off should he suspect a thing.
But Caesar recognises this. Everything tonight has been vetted, double and triple vetted, and he will remain obedient, pliant, until the day of reckoning.
Nothing is in writing but everything is planned. Caesar is a clever man and a careful.
The camera team, dressed all in black, shuffle about and consider angles. Caesar sits and waits, eyes fixed in space as a man with a makeup brush brushes it up and down his face, switching blush out for eyeshadow. Caesar closes one eye, then the other, feels the powder cover up his skin.
He fixes an eye for a moment on Velarius Eppoxe, his successor and newly ordained subordinate. Velarius is watching him, his sharp leonine eyes fixed unblinkingly, a makeup man carefully fixing his hair in place and being entirely ignored. They lock eyes a few seconds, then Caesar breaks eye contact with an ease that he knows comes across as indifference and swivels his chair methodically.
Camera 1, 2, 3. Look to the left first as it zooms in, tilt to face the camera on his right for a friendly address, then as the lights lower- it's time for the centre.
One, two, three.
Bait, switch, ascend.
"Okay, Mr Flickerman," the producer says through his earpiece, "It's been a pleasure all these years, so all that's left to say is you're live in five, four, three-"
The earpiece is drowned out as the music is cued. Caesar turns to the left, smiles at the camera, regards the audience with a shining smile. The bugles play and the crowd cheers as if they're on cue as well, and Caesar sends an arm out waving as he waits for the camera to zoom in.
"Capitol, it's Friday night, and you know what that means- it's the Caesar Flickerman show!"
There is a television in the school halls, old, all cathode-ray tubes and static, and while ordinarily nobody would be watching it, or even be in the multi-purpose hall at this time of night, a fire had broken out in last night's riots, and many of District 7's Sixth Zone are holed up temporarily in the building overnight, shivering under the few blankets and belongings they had saved as they wait for the night to be over. Nobody can sleep with the sounds of riot and ruin outside, so one of the mothers, desperate to keep her children calm, has switched on the television. Other than the Hunger Games, no signal ever reaches the television, but the snow and static, the comforting background radiation music of the universe, is good to block out the sounds of screams and muffled gunfire.
Except, for the first time in years, the television experiences an unexpected broadcast.
"-it's the Caesar Flickerman show!"
The young children in the hall, half-asleep and half-awake, rouse each other. "Hey," they call, "the tv's on!", they cry, and they cluster cross-legged around the box perched on the table, blinking up at the fuzzy staticky colours with bright eyes.
The adults eye it with wary suspicion, but the older children and teenagers are most scared. They, who live most acutely in the Capitol's firing line, know not to trust it. They do not trust this smiling man, and they mistrust what he portends more than the fire and bullets behind them. At least bullets are honest.
Caesar Flickerman smiles out at them, wets his electric blue lips, and looks to the camera on his right.
"Hello, Capitol! Hello- my dearest Capitol. And for the first time, a warm welcome to the Districts!"
The lights are too bright now, and he can't make out the audience, but he can hear their murmurings. He cocks his head and listens.
"Yes, welcome to the Districts, because this is no ordinary Friday night. Panem, I've been honoured to present Friday night shows for- well, far too long," he says fondly to their laughter, "and I've been more than honoured to find myself in the position of Master of Ceremonies, a position never before trusted to a television presenter. But all good things- must come to an end."
Silence. Caesar smiles.
"Dearest Capitol, dearest Panem, it has been an honour to present your Fridays and your Hunger Games, but this shall be my last. After a long consideration, I've opted to resign my job, so that I may serve my country more closely than I currently do."
The audience groans like they've been wounded. Caesar hides his smile beneath downturned blue lips.
"I know, I know- I'll miss you all. But you won't need to miss me, because a new Master of Ceremonies has been chosen- you might just know him well. Panem, please welcome the Master of Ceremonies, Velarius Eppoxe!"
One of the most verbal arguments Caesar had had with Velarius' transition team was about the music he would enter with. Velarius' team wanted to take on Caesar's theme (being, quite simply, more stately than the electronica Velarius had previously employed), but Caesar was loathe to give up such an integral piece of his public recognition. Eventually, when it became clear nobody was going to budge but him, he demurred but accepted the alteration, with a single caveat- it had to be altered significantly from his own.
So the music started up, the lights shifted from Caesar to Velarius, and the beats were the same but the tune was different. Caesar's theme was heavily imbued with trumpets and brass, but Velarius' theme integrated the electronic baseline he was known for- there was more percussion, less brass, but the overall sound was a wall of sound, less welcoming than Caesar's and a little less professional but more ultimately authoritarian.
And Velarius imbued the music- he owned it. Caesar moved with his music, but Velarius moved as he wanted and expected the music to move with him. Wearing his most stately suit, mostly black and only accented with gold, Velarius had adopted a leonine impression. His gold braids had been set in a scraped-back ponytail and then let loose at the point of the tie- they puffed outwards, an ersatz halo that caught the stage lights beautifully.
Mane, lion, king of the jungle. A simplistic visual impression, if one Caesar could respect.
And hate- the man was a bastard, in every way the word could be used. But he could put a sentence together and speak it well, and he was possibly the only man alive who could bring the Capitol back from the brink of mistrust.
Besides himself, of course- but his own role was different now.
Velarius reached the front, and Caesar stood, shook his hand, pulled him in for a hug. The camera loved it, the audience too, which grated on his nerves slightly. Velarius was a tall man and Caesar disliked feeling small.
Stepping back forcefully, Caesar with a smile waved his arm out and permitted Velarius to take the seat. Velarius took it as if it had always been his.
"Hello," he boomed, understated but omnipresent in delivery, "my Capitol."
Quint dropped a plate on the ground as he turned on the television to see Velarius Eppoxe sitting in Caesar Flickerman's chair. He left the shards of porcelain and his meal on the floor, eyes frozen to the television set.
Velarius Eppoxe wasn't a man he knew well, but it didn't matter what he was like- a change from the status quo was the most worrying thing. It meant the circumstances the revos were operating under were about to change.
Velarius addressed the center camera, eyes boring into it. He smiled and showed too much tooth when he did.
"Yes, hello, as the new Master of Ceremonies. I'm truly honoured to be given this role, and I hope to bring in a new age of entertainment."
A new age? Quint found himself, as he now often did, reflexively rubbing the place on his leg where flesh and metal met.
"But in bringing in a new age, we must not forget the- Caesar? Where are you going?"
Quint blinked. Velarius just outright called Caesar old, and in a way that felt off-script. That was surreal. Not that Quint would complain. He'd hold his grudge of Caesar until he died.
"Oh," Caesar said with an unchanged smile, turning from where he was walking away. "I'm just headed backstage, Velarius. She's all yours."
"Not- just yet, my dear Caesar Flickerman," Velarius purred, standing smoothly. This part, at least, was certainly rehearsed- he spoke more monotonously when he was on script. "I've been asked to give you a goodbye message- from the President."
What? Quint thought, and when his incredulity reached a peak he repeated it out loud. His food seeped into the carpet.
"No, really?" Caesar, at least, seemed more genuine when speaking from a script, although he clearly still was. He pretended to look touched. "And what's that?"
"Caesar Flickerman," Velarius said, "It is my pleasure, as my first announcement as Master of Ceremonies, to tell Panem for the first time of your promotion to-"
"-No-" Quint cried.
"-Head Gamemaker of our illustrious Hunger Games."
Caesar Flickerman's smile shone out over the country, and it was for the very first time genuine. It was a smile of victory.
"Well, now your promotion's announced- I may as well interview you about it!" Velarius said, waving a hand for another chair. Caesar took the chair and steepled his fingers, smirking as Velarius took his. Caesar almost courted the audience about the strangeness of the switched positions by winking at the audience, but he had a true political job now, and his demeanour had to alter to fit.
"By all means, Mr Eppoxe," Caesar said, taking on a little of the late Seneca Crane's voice as he spoke. "What do you want to know?"
"Well, Mr Flickerman, I'd love to know what you have planned for your inaugural Game."
"A tribute, Velarius," Caesar answered. Velarius laughed, which he wasn't very good at doing falsely but did well enough to join the audience in with him.
"I'd certainly hope for one, at least!"
"I mean the game itself- they say to draw from what you know, and what do I know best but my wonderful Capitolians? And so, my first games will celebrate all that's great about the Capitol- their kind hearts, their beautiful faces, and their love of surprise."
"I do love surprises," Velarius hums. "Give me one now."
"Ah, but then it wouldn't be a surprise," Caesar said with a grin. Velarius leaned in conspiratorially.
"Just between you and me."
"Oh- why not. In fact, let's make this a surprise for the Capitol. No, scratch that-" Caesar felt his grin grow in size- "Let's make this a surprise for Panem."
Velarius smiled, sharp and toothy. "Please do."
"This year's Games will be a celebration of everything the Capitol loves, and, Capitol, you love the fun to never end. Am I right?" The crowd cheered and Caesar barely waited for it to end before barrelling on. "So why wait for the next Games? Why celebrate this year's Victory when we can move on to something better? Why don't we do the reaping-" And Caesar smiled like he had won.
"-Right now?"
Hello.
This fic has been missing, presumed dead, for quite a while. It was a combination of preparing for my A Levels, focusing on my upcoming move to university, and- well-
Look, I never proofread this fic. I wrote chapters as fast as I could and threw them out for you guys, and while I had a love for it through Jacquerie I slowed as I began to write Ivaylo. I've developed quite a bit since the start and I had started to become disillusioned with my original plot. I've had the end planned since the start and frankly, it's not aged well as I look back over my plot plans.
So I spent a while away from it, revamped the plot without altering what's happened so far, and sat down with the books and films to reinvigorate myself to this.
If any of the original submitters remain- I'm writing this for me, but most of all I'm writing this for you. I'm finishing this even if nobody returns (I mean, I started this in 2014!) but if you do- if you come back- it's going to be different. I'm going to fix parts of Jacquerie and Ivaylo to- you know- not be shit, and I'm going to hopefully return to, if not my prior daily and weekly schedules, at least one every two weeks. I'm not sure, I'm still working out the buffer, but it's going to be consistent at least.
I'm not letting these kids go until it's done.
So I'm back, and the Jacquerie trilogy is too, bigger and better (hopefully) and all I have left to say is-
Let the odds be ever in your favour.