"And I know that the two of you have both been practicing your little speeches, so I'm just not even going to ask," Effie assured her wards, before leaving them to Haymitch after a few fretful adjustments of pillows that had probably been fine.
Their mentor rose to his feet as the door closed behind her, and began re-filling his flask from a clear bottle at the bar. Finished, he turned to face the lovers and aimed the drink at Peeta.
"You will be the one talking the most- you've always been the camera friendly one."
Peeta nodded in acceptance of his role.
"Well," Katniss said in a very drawn out way, "That may have been how we operated before, Peeta doing everything and me just killing people, but it's different now. I may or may not have incited some kind of uprising, so I need to show that I'm not trying to be some sort of revolutionary."
"You're not?" said a surprised Peeta.
"I also wasn't totally clear on that," added Haymitch after a swig.
"No, I'm not. Hopefully I'll be able to set things straight here."
Soon, their train was flying through the endless rows of fruit that was District 11, which was its main export apart from tributes that everybody likes but knows will never win. Hands paused at their work as they passed by, and tanned children raised sinewy arms in greeting. Stopping directly at the run-down Justice Center, white-clad Peacekeepers ushered them the entire way to the stage. A grim, clearly involuntary crowd glared back at them. The families of Thresh and Rue were seated at tables near the front.
Peeta stepped up to the microphone and broke the tangible silence in an unwavering voice. "Sorry two kids from your District got killed."
"Aye," said a towering man in the front row, waving him off, "It's good, it isn't your fault."
Peeta nodded, replied, "Alright, cool, thanks," and stepped away for Katniss.
She grasped both sides of the dark, wooden lectern, and looked out with an intense sternness.
"There have been rumors of insubordination," the blood drained out of Katniss's knuckles at the last word. After a pause, she continued. "I remind you now that such an action would be no more than suicide. The consequence is so certain, so inescapable, that it is contained in the act itself."
A murmur was passed around through the crowd.
"Forget not where we have come from," she continued, punching out every word, "The people of Panem must find assurance in the knowledge that a constantly changing vision has been replaced by a fixed pole! The ashes we have risen from were lit by the destructive fire of democracy, and the fire we have re-kindled brought about only by the power of the state!" Katniss brought a passionate fist down upon the podium, and a strand of hair slipped loose of its design and fell across her forehead.
An elderly man, bent with years, raised three fingers to his lips, then outwards to Katniss. The whole rest of the crowd followed suit in quiet strength.
The counter-revolutionary shook her head frantically. "Nope. No District-unity symbolism. Did you not hear that speech?"
A pair of Peacekeepers took the elderly man up onto the stage.
Head shaking quickly turned into approving nods. "Yes. Adherence is the new law! Our strength-"
The citizen's head was blown off of the rest of his body.
Peeta wrestled Katniss away from the stand as she stared down at the bloodied floor, and the passionate light of her eyes dimmed. Peacekeepers now filed in from all angles, and the pair was roughly ushered off stage.
"Come on, she is already very scarred, was that necessary?!" Peeta shouted, shoving off armored arms, "Couldn't that have waited?!"