Cornelia Astor, age 27

Interim President of Panem

Executions took a surprising amount of paperwork and planning.

Cornelia sifted through the stack of paper on her desk, the vast presidential office with all its furnishings and wealth narrowing down to the same list of names and positions she had been reading through for the past six months. The list of people who were to die in what was being dubbed The Gamemaker Deposition.

Gemma Copper, Head Gamemaker

Linus Adolphis, Assistant Head Gamemaker

Laurella Littleman, Master of Ceremonies

Ezequiel Macen, Games Announcer

Kallisto Alan, Gamemaker Department Head

Bacchus Vera, Gamemaker Department Head

Germany Shine, Gamemaker Department Head

Carson Wayland, Gamemaker Department Head

Hyperion Marshall, Gamemaker Department Head

On and on and on the list stretched. So many people scheduled to die because of one woman's fatal error. Just a few months ago, Gemma Copper had decided to call off the Sixth Quarter Quell, a Hunger Games that would have brought 144 tributes to the Capitol for a Games to remember. Gemma had cited simple logistics as her reasoning for calling off the Quell, and had called for all work on the Games to be ceased without first asking the previous president, President Prime, for permission to commit such an act. By the time Prime had found out, it was too late to reinstate the Quell, and Panem went without the 150th Hunger Games.

Of course, Prime had been furious. Cornelia, just a lower level politician at that time, had felt the shockwaves of his anger, even at her position in Panemian government. Prime called for the public execution of the entire Games staff: any and all Gamemakers, the public faces, and of course Gemma Copper.

But Prime had died before sorting out all of the logistics of this grand plan, which is why it hadn't happened yet. And a hasty vote had implemented Cornelia Astor as the acting president of Panem when the country desperately needed a leader.

Cornelia leaned forward onto the desk, rubbing at her face. She still didn't know exactly why she was picked to be the interim president. And she certainly didn't enjoy all of this tedious work she has inherited.

You need to do this. You need to prove yourself.

But was executing hundreds of people the way to do that? Was all this work going to be worth it?

A knock sounded at the door. Cornelia straightened in her chair, running a hand through her bleached blonde hair. She knew who it was just by the rapid pattern of the knocks. "Come in."

Antony Templum, new Head Gamemaker hired by President Prime before his death, strutted into the room, their face set in an easy smile like always. Their cotton candy pink hair hung wavy on either side of their face, the ends brushing their jaw, a contrast against their brown skin. "Madam President."

"How can you be so nonchalant, Antony?" Cornelia asked, thumbing through the stack of paper on her desk again. "The last two people that had your job were executed."

"Technically, Gemma's not dead yet," Antony quipped, seating themself in the chair across from Cornelia. "So she doesn't count."

"She'll be dead soon enough. Next week." Not enough time. Still too much to do. "What can I help you with?"

Antony laughed. "A little stressed, Madam President?"

"That's an understatement." She sighed. "Really, Antony, what did you need me for? I'm very busy."

Antony leaned back in the chair, putting their hands behind their head. Completely at ease. Completely the opposite of Cornelia who was wound up so tight, she thought she would burst. "I was thinking about the Games this summer."

Of course. That seemed to be all a Head Gamemaker thought about. Cornelia didn't want to think about what she would have to do in the next hour, let alone what would happen six months from now. "What about the Games?"

"I don't want these Games to be a flop," Antony said. "I highly doubt it could get worse than what happened last year, but I don't want to end up in front of a firing squad, too."

"That won't happen," Cornelia interrupted, waving a hand in dismissal. "The people will be so glad that the Games are back, they won't care if they're a little lackluster."

"I care." Antony's voice was hard but smooth, like a worn stone. "I want this to be the next biggest thing."

"I'm sure it will be." Cornelia's patience was already wearing thin, but Antony talking in circles was not helping the issue. They seemed to realize, and swiftly continued.

"I was wondering if it was possible for you to rig a few of the reapings to make sure that we get some good tributes. Not a lot of them," they added, "but enough to make sure that there are lots of contenders. I want a strong batch this year."

Rig reapings? Sure, add it to the growing list of things Cornelia had to do. Finalize execution plans, try to keep the Capitolites happy, rig reapings. She clenched her fists, lacquered nails biting into her palm. The pain distracted her from the overwhelming sense that she would not be able to do all this. That she was not suited to be president of Panem.

How many other people think that, too? Because surely there were others who thought that Cornelia wasn't the best choice for president.

"I'll see what I can do," Cornelia told Antony. She jumped as the grandfather clock in the office chimed one o'clock. One o'clock already. Where had the time gone?

"Wonderful!" Antony rose from the chair and extended their hand towards Cornelia. She shook it halfheartedly. "A pleasure as always doing business with you, Madam President." And with that, they left, the door clicking shut behind them.

Cornelia rested her forehead against the cool wood of the desk. Madam President. It did have a nice ring to it. Too bad the title came with a constant thrum of pressure and deadlines and too much to do in too little time.

One o'clock, one o'clock... She had something around one, didn't she? Cornelia buried her hands into her hair again, trying to think. Something was planned, something important. But all of her work was important. And she couldn't keep it all straight. How could she do this job if she couldn't keep everything in line?

Another knock, and then the door creaked open. "Madam President? Are you ready?"

Cornelia looked up. Sethos Zahur, interim vice president, stood in the doorframe with his hands behind his back, electric blue suit the same shade as his short hair. His pale skin betrayed the dark bags under his eyes, showing he had gotten as little sleep as Cornelia since the two had assumed office together. He held a folder in his hand that Cornelia eyed. "Ready for what?"

Sethos pursed his lips. "We have interviews today. For the new Master of Ceremonies."

New Master of Ceremonies. How had she forgotten? The new Games Committee was practically already full, only the highly sought after position of Master of Ceremonies was left. Cornelia pictured the old Master, Laurella Littleman, cowering in a prison cell, waiting for her soon coming death, and wished that she could just resume her position to save Cornelia this extra headache. At least she was finished reading through the thousands of resumes that had been sent in.

"Of course," Cornelia said, stretching her back out. "Just give me one moment and I'll be right with you." Sethos nodded, slipping out of the room to give Cornelia some privacy.

She rummaged through the desk drawers before coming out with a compact mirror and a tube of lipstick. Cornelia gazed at herself in the mirror, her bleached hair she needed to get redone as her roots were showing, the itchy violet contacts, her eyes ringed with dark kohl. It hid the fatigue that had plagued her face the last six months. Cornelia applied a fine layer of the plum purple lipstick, then snapped the mirror shut. Interview, interview, interview.

Cornelia joined Sethos, and he handed her the folder. She flipped it open, skimming the top paper. "Eleni Virgo," she read.

"She's already here," Sethos said. "Desdemona is keeping her company."

The new Games Announcer, Desdemona Palacio, was the only member of the new Games Committee who was invited to the interviews, simply because she would be working closely with the Master of Ceremonies and Cornelia thought it would be best for her to have some input on who was chosen. Hopefully, Desdemona and Eleni were getting along. Desdemona would be superb at her job, but she wasn't always a pleasant person to be around.

Luckily, the room the interview was being held in wasn't too far from Cornelia's office, and the two arrived in no time. As soon as Cornelia and Sethos entered the room, a young woman around Cornelia's age stood up, leaving Desdemona sitting by herself. "President Astor, Vice President Zahur, it is very nice to finally meet you. I'm Eleni Virgo." She extended her hand.

Cornelia looked Eleni up and down, taking in the shorter, stouter frame, pale skin, constellation tattoo on her cheek, and the long wavy hair dyed in a way that only conjured the word sunset in Cornelia's mind, starting as magenta and then fading to a bright orange at the tips. Cornelia shook her hand, returning what she was sure was just a shade of Eleni's warm grin. "Nice to meet you, too, Eleni. Should we get started?"

"Please," Desdemona interjected. She gestured to the two empty seats on her side of the rectangular table, leaving one for Eleni on the opposite site. Apart from the table, the room was surprisingly bare, only the seal of Panem hanging behind Cornelia's side and a large window behind Eleni, showing off the bitter gray winter landscape. The only pops of color in the otherwise bland room were Eleni's vibrant hair and Desdemona's periwinkle blue skin. Dyed skin had not been in fashion for years now, but Cornelia knew Desdemona was hoping to bring it back.

Cornelia cleared her throat, dragging her eyes away from Desdemona and her blue skin and white jumpsuit and shaved head. "So Eleni," she started, "your resume is more than outstanding. You're well qualified for this position." Desdemona scoffed.

"Well I wouldn't have applied if I wasn't qualified!" Eleni laughed, the cheerful sound putting Cornelia more at ease. "I wouldn't want to waste your time, Madam President. Or any of yours," she added quickly. "I know you're all very busy."

"You don't know the half of it," Sethos muttered, and Eleni laughed again. Cornelia made a mental note of how this woman could lighten the mood so easily. A quality that a Master of Ceremonies would need, depending on the kinds of tributes they would be interviewing.

The interview continued in a similar fashion, with each of the interviewers asking Eleni questions and her answering them with charisma. As the conversation progressed, Cornelia liked this Eleni more and more. Liked her enough to seriously consider her for the job.

Cornelia double checked her notes, flipping through the folder. "I think that just about covers it."

"Wonderful!" Eleni stood once again and gestured to shake each of their hands. Desdemona did so begrudgingly. "Thank you all again for this opportunity. I truly do appreciate it. Hopefully you'll be seeing a lot more of me!" She laughed again, and Cornelia smiled without being fully conscious of the movement. Eleni was infectious.

Once she had left the room, Desdemona announced, "I don't like her that much."

"Why not?" Cornelia couldn't imagine not liking Eleni after the showing she had just given.

Desdemona shrugged. "She was a little too... jubilant."

"But she could read us," Sethos added. "And she could keep a conversation on track. A Master of Ceremonies should be able to do that."

Cornelia nodded. "And she could control the emotions of the conversation."

Sethos hummed in agreement. "An excellent wordsmith."

"And?" Desdemona snapped, crossing her arms. "There have been others who could do that."

But the others didn't have that one quality that made Cornelia feel like they suited the role. Eleni had that quality, even if Cornelia couldn't quite put her finger on what it was. "I think we should hire Eleni."

"I agree," Sethos chimed in. "She's perfect."

Desdemona spluttered, standing so fast in a rage that her chair fell. "Are you two serious? You wanted me here so you could get my opinion on who you hired. And now you're not gonna listen to me?"

"Careful, Desdemona," Cornelia warned. "Look at who you're speaking to." The exercise of power didn't feel natural, but Cornelia had to do it. She had to show that she was to be taken seriously. That she was the most powerful person in Panem and would not be stepped on.

Desdemona's mouth opened and closed, like she wanted to say something but couldn't. Then she slammed her hands down on the table and stormed from the room, slamming the door shut. Cornelia just sighed and scrubbed her face with both hands. Her contacts were itching again.

And it looked like she would have her work cut out for her until the Hunger Games started again, even more so than she had originally thought.

Cicero Vegas, age 18

Capitol University Undergraduate Student

"Ladies and gentlemen, it appears we have reached the final eight in the 95th Annual Hunger Games!" The voice of the announcer rang throughout the classroom. Cicero gripped the edge of her desk, hanging onto every word. She watched, rapt, as an old animation that hadn't been used in nearly thirty years spiraled onto the screen. Other students around her watched just as intently, but only because there was a high chance they didn't know who the victor was. But Cicero knew.

Even before she had decided to be a Hunger Games History major, with a concentration in tributes and victors, she knew.

Cicero poised her stylus over her tablet, ready to take note of the final eight. The first face that flashed across the flickering projection was Theseus Francium, the boy from District One. After his face faded away, a montage of his highlights from the Games played. It showed him shooting the girls from Nine and Eight in the bloodbath, as well as other shots of him prowling the arena with his bow in hand. Cicero scribbled down his name.

The next face was the stoic Pallas King from District Two. Her kill highlights consisted of her stabbing the boy from Nine under the chin during the bloodbath. Cicero wrote her name under Theseus's, then drew a star beside it. Pallas was one of Cicero's favorites from that year, although that wasn't saying much. Cicero tended to like a lot of the tributes.

Heidi Dell, the two faced girl District Three came next, the only kill questionably attributed to her showing after her face. The arena for the 95th Games had been an overgrown fairgrounds with a creaking Ferris wheel in the back. Heidi, alongside her surviving allies, Drexel also from Three and Duncan from Seven, had climbed the Ferris wheel, and once they reached a high enough point, Heidi has "accidentally" stepped on Drexel's fingers, causing him to lose his grip and plummet to his death.

After Heidi was Bocaccio Naval from District Four. They weren't the flashiest tribute in the world, having stabbed Wisteria from Eleven during the bloodbath then done nothing else of any real importance during the rest of the Games thus far. Cicero was never really sure how to feel about them. Regardless, they must have done something well to make it so far in the Games.

Even less flashy that Bocaccio was Riggs Blackson, the boy from District Five, who had spent most of the Games hiding out in the carousel in the arena. He had no highlights to play for the second part of his showing, and the screen quickly moved to Sylvester Pin from District Eight. He had been a lot like Riggs in the sense that he hadn't done too much during the Games, quickly becoming forgotten in the minds of almost everybody, except for when he killed the girl from One, Aigrette Luxor, with her own weapon. Granted, the killing was clumsy and clearly self defense, but taking out one of the top tributes in the Games had garnered a lot of attention for Sylvester. Cicero wrote his name down, then underlined it three times, just as she had whenever she had taken notes about Sylvester.

About the future victor.

Kaiser Hundley, the angry, brutish boy from District Eleven came next, his two kills gruesome. The first was during the bloodbath, when he smashed Rhett from Twelve's head against one of the pedestals, leaving it a pulpy mass of blood and tissues. The second was when he jumped Keilani from Four after she had been separated from her hunting partner and Kaiser stabbed her what must have been a least a hundred times, until long after the girl was dead. Cicero shuddered watching the brutal kill. At least he didn't win.

The final tribute out of the eight was Sienna Flint from District Twelve. She hadn't done much either, but she had gotten a lot of attention just because she had been the first tribute from Twelve to last that long in the Games in years. Cicero scribbled her name down as well, then looked over the list she had. The final eight that would soon dwindle down to one.

The editors had cut the interviews with the families of the remaining tributes as well as the down time in the arena, going right to the next death. Kaiser from Eleven tackled Sienna as she was eating. The girl screamed once before Kaiser snapped her neck, then left her body in a heap on the rain-wet concrete. The boy next to Cicero jumped at the suddenness of it all and Cicero smiled to herself. She had already known that would happen. The 95th Games were one of her favorites, one of the Games that had made her so interested in recording information about all of the tributes in the Hunger Games, not just the victors. She could probably recite the placements of each tribute in her sleep.

Bocaccio was back in action in the next clip, breaking from their allies, Theseus and Pallas, to chase after Heidi. Heidi was fast and probably could have escaped, but she tripped on loose concrete and Bocaccio stabbed her in the chest before she knew it. Five to go. Cicero made note of that death on her tablet.

Almost immediately after Heidi's death, high pitched laughter reverberated throughout the arena. The clown mutts that the Gamemakers that year had used to herd the tributes to the finale. It was the style of that Head Gamemaker, Aurelio Sagittarius, to have a larger than normal number of tributes fight in the finale. Made for a more exciting ending.

Unfortunately for the tribute from Four, they were too close to where the mutts had spawned into the arena. Bocaccio ran back towards their allies, screaming at the two of them to run before the first of the mutts flung itself at them. Bocaccio cried out as more mutts swarmed them and tore them apart.

A similar fate awaited Riggs from Five. He hadn't left the hollow axis of the carousel in days, and Cicero assumed the Gamemakers wanted to get rid of him. She would have wanted him gone, too, unfortunately. Riggs could have been a contender, but he hid for most of the Games. The same clown mutts wormed their way into his hiding spot and ripped him apart, too, his agonized screams echoing throughout his hiding spot. Luckily, the cameras didn't show the actions themselves, only the mutts emerging from the axis soaked in blood.

After marking down Riggs's violent end, Cicero turned her full attention to the screen to watch the finale of the 95th Hunger Games. The four remaining tributes hurried their way to the Cornucopia practically unscathed except for Sylvester who had twisted his ankle and collapsed against the gold surface of the horn, unable to move. The three remaining tributes squared off against each other.

Theseus and Pallas double teamed Kaiser, whose sheer strength could not help him now. He was able to hold off the Careers with a sword he had picked up, but not for long. Theseus had abandoned his bow in favor of a dagger, and once Pallas had opened an opportunity for him, he stepped in and slit Kaiser's throat. Before Kaiser's cannon had even stopped sounding, Pallas thrust her spear through the back of Theseus's skull while his back was still turned. Cicero drummed her fingers on her desk while the rest of the class murmured around her. Final two.

Cicero couldn't tear her eyes from the screen as Pallas tried to yank the spear out of Theseus's skull in vain. Eventually, she just left the weapon in there and picked up the dagger the boy had used, still wet with Kaiser's blood. Pallas stalked around the Cornucopia's perimeter, looking for Sylvester who was hidden in the shadows of the horn. He gripped his spear tightly, breathing heavily. When Pallas passed by again, he stood, wobbling on his twisted ankle. Cicero held her breath. This was it. Sylvester limped towards the girl from Two, then skewered her through the back with his spear. Pallas gasped, then fell to her knees. When the cannon boomed and the trumpets sounded, Sylvester just buried his face in his hands.

The projection flicked off, and the lights came back on. The professor, a woman named Amphora Cham who looked aged beyond her years with olive green hair pulled back into a bun, stood behind the podium at the front of the classroom. "As much as I would love to discuss these Games with you now, we are out of time," she said. "Please remember to go to the City Circle at three today for the Gamemaker Deposition. Attendance is mandatory. I'll see you all next week."

The Gamemaker Deposition. Cicero had forgotten that was today. Public executions were rare in the Capitol, especially one of this massive scale.

Cicero trekked back to her dorm in the chilly winter air. When she got there, she flung herself on her bed, everything she had to do circling her mind. She glanced at the time on her tablet, then decided it was too close to when she had to leave to start anything. She could always do it later. Who needed sleep, anyways?

The minutes ticked by until Cicero got a message on her tablet from Aula: We're here.

Cicero sprang out of bed, and flung the door to her dorm open, revealing her sister Aula and their best friend Ulysses Ki, nephew of former Head Gamemaker Vanessa Ki, all bundled up. "I just need a minute," Cicero told them.

"Well hurry up," Aula quipped. "We can't be late." She let herself in, Ulysses lingering in the doorway. Aula wore her short maroon wig today, with the matching glittery eyelashes. She surveyed the room.

Cicero tugged on her shoes. "We won't be late. You're early, anyways."

"Like always," Ulysses added pointedly. Aula waved him off, and he made a sound of mock offense.

"Forgive me if I want to get anywhere on time with you too," Aula said as Cicero pulled on her coat. "Ready?" Aula asked Cicero, and she nodded. Together, the three of them headed towards the City Circle, catching up on life in general as the three of them had been too busy to spend any time together for the past week. Ulysses rubbed his hands together, showing off his orange fingernails against his brown skin, the only cosmetic enhancement Ulysses ever did.

The City Circle was already packed by the time they got there a few minutes before three o'clock. "Did you hear that they couldn't find some of the old Games Committee for today?" Cicero asked.

Aula gasped. "Really?"

"Really," Cicero confirmed.

"And they're still doing this today?" Ulysses craned his neck to get a look at the empty stage. The stage where the old Games Committee would meet their end.

"The new president didn't want to wait," Cicero said. "I guess as they're found, they'll be killed." At least, that was what Cicero would have done. She felt kind of bad for the interim president, inheriting a disastrous country after the Sixth Quarter Quell had been called off. Cicero remembered the riots in the streets of the Capitol, the fear that had swept over the city in the weeks following the cancelation. Nobody knew what was happening, or what would happen. When President Prime announced the Gamemaker Deposition, everything had almost felt normal. And then when he died, the turmoil started again.

Unseen clocks around the City Circle chimed out three o'clock, and the new president, Cornelia Astor, walked out on stage. She made a short speech about values and how the Hunger Games were something integral to the country, referencing the protests in the Capitol after the Quell was called off and how that could never happen again. "We must set a precedent," she said. "We must set an example." With that, a procession of the old Gamemakers and Games officials were led out on stage with the hands bound behind their back, headed by Gemma Copper. Cicero also spotted the Games Announcer, Ezequiel Macen, and the Master of Ceremonies, Laurella Littleman, on stage. She didn't recognize many others.

The old Games Committee knelt on stage, a Peacekeeper behind each of them. President Astor continued. "Just last week I completed the task of forming a brand new Games Committee, who you will all meet in the coming months. But first, it is time to put the Committee behind me to rest." The Peacekeepers raised their guns. Aula grabbed Cicero's hand, and Cicero saw her sister's eyes were closed. Cicero squeezed her hand. "Out with the old," the president said, "and in with the new."

The guns fired, the old Games officials slumping forward on stage, all of them dead. Ulysses jumped at the sound. Cicero kept her eyes focused on the bodies on the stage. She couldn't see the blood from where she was, but she knew the stage had to be pooled with the crimson liquid.

Out with the old, and in with the new.

A new D9T story? More likely than you think.

I know it's been a while since you all heard from me. I was losing interest in Carnage, my story about the 95th Games that I summarized in Cicero's section. But I wanted to try a new story format for the Games, and these new characters grabbed me by the throat and wouldn't let me go until I wrote them.

So these Games will be told from the perspective of Capitolites, both government/Games officials and Cicero and her squad, alongside some other one off characters. Also with the Games happening, these characters will be getting their own stories, so this will not just be focusing solely on the Games, even though that will be a big aspect of this fic. I also wanted to explore what would have happened after the 6th Quarter Quell, which was a (too ambitious) project that I called off after starting it years ago, and in my universe, the Games also got called off, causing riots and protests in the Capitol. I think it's an interesting concept, and I'm excited to share more from these characters with you all.

Speaking of the characters, what did you think of Cornelia and Cicero? They aren't the only characters who will be getting POVs, but I decided to start with the two of them for this first chapter.

I'll try to update as much as I can, but I'm gonna be pretty busy so I'm not sure how much time I'll have to write, but my goal is to finish this story. This is part one in a planned series, so hopefully I can get through this. It won't be as repetitive as Carnage, which is why I think I'll be able to get through this one when I couldn't get through that.

As always, if you got this far, please leave a review and let me know what you thought! I love hearing from you all :)

Until next time!

-D9T