Grudges just weren't present in the Capitol, they were practically a sport. With plenty of idle time on their hands, those of the Capitol would have anger from party faux pas and declined dinner invitations would simmer for years, hardening into long histories of veiled insults and biting remarks. But never open argument; everyone had a reputation to keep, after all.

The rebellion had changed that.

While Paylor could shut down any fight with little more than a raised voice, she was actually enjoying the current back-and-forth playing out in front of her. A Capitol man and women, standing across from each other with two flags in their arms. They pointed at each other and traded insults, unaware that their accents made them sound like two mice in a drunken brawl. The woman held a flag that was markedly similar to the Panem's, though the great golden eagle had been seamlessly replaced with a golden mockingjay. The man held something different, a red field with a white star in the center. Around it, 13 smaller stars.

Grande Metaphisa and Alexand le Proguis, respectively. Two of the city's most respected designers, and mortal enemies. They both demanded to speak with Paylor literally the hour after word got out that they were considering changing the flag. The acting president and the others hadn't even decided if they were going to change it. All the same, the two were now in front of her, each trying to have their own design chosen as the new symbol for Panem. Revolution or no, getting their design chosen meant gloating rights, the only currency really worth anything in the Capitol.

"And why did you change the color?" Metaphisa shouted. "Your colors aren't even! It looks like you cut someone and just smeared their blood on a napkin!"

"You'd know a lot about consistency, wouldn't you, you, plagiarist!"

"Hack!"

"Tracer!"

Paylor held up a hand. "Stop."

They both obeyed instantly.

"You two have done nothing but argue since you walked in here. Why don't you each explain the positive parts of your flags?"

She pointed at Metaphisa. "You first."

Grande stepped forward, folding out her flag in front of the Commander. A coy smile accompanied her description.

"As you can see, I opted for familiarity, something some people would do away with. The seal is redesigned slightly, and now the beautiful mockingjay is prominent on the flag."

"Why does it have more arrows in its mouth?"

"Well, eight. Same number the eagle carries? I want to say to the people of Panem there have been some necessary changes, but order will prevail!"

"Hmph. Now you, Proguis."

Grande stepped back as the other designer folded out his flag. He cleared his throat.

"It's quite apparent that this is a fairly significant departure to the old flag. The star represents Panem, each district forming a smaller but crucial part of the whole. No laurel wreathes or pseudo-aspirations to royalty, and certainly no roundabout glorification of old Panem. Simple, clean, and new."

"Does digging something out of the trash count as 'new'?" Grande sneered.

He forced the flag into one hand and pointed at her. "That's big goddamn talk coming from someone didn't even attend last year's fashion show!"

"Unlike you, I'm busy!"

"You were drunk and everyone kn—"

"Stop," Paylor once again commanded. "Why don't we just combine the designs? Say, the stars around Grande's design?"

They both stopped, craning their heads toward the commander. Both of them had equally outrageous expressions of disgust.

"Did you just suggest what I think you did?" Proguis muttered, one eyebrow cocked.

"Design by committee?" Grande said, finishing Proguis' thought.

After a moment, Alexand huffed and began wadding up his flag. "I—I'm sorry. I just came here under the impression that you wanted a flag, not a cave drawing. "

"Do you even know what vexillology is?" Grande asked with equally haughty tone. "Oh who am I kidding, of course you don't."

Paylor was too shocked to respond; it was the first time in a while since anyone had ever talked back to her.

"I withdraw my design," Alexand spat, tossing his flag off to the side.

Grande threw hers away dramatically as well. "Me too."

They both turned, loudly talking about Paylor's complete ignorance of good design.

When they were gone from the office, the commander rolled her eyes. At least they found common ground on something.