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"The boy, Sonar, from 3 gives me the impression of someone who is going to know how to really push the boundaries of every tool provided to him."
"Yes, yes, just looking to his mentor, Beetee, he has almost that same intelligent look in his eye that just tells you we should be on the look for a level of trapping we have missing for a few years now."
"Parents everywhere are going to despise him for it. After Beetee's tricks, my sister was a mess trying to keep her kids from replicating the traps."
"Any success?"
"No. And if you listen close, you can hear every parent in Panem sigh."
"In relief or in defeat?"
"Depends on how much of a fight bath time is."
The two men on screen shared a loud sort of laugh, Caesar Flickerman's perfectly lined teeth making a full appearance as they typically did with that over-the-top showman laugh. Milton Edercrum had to be more natural, the toned-down one that existed to help compliment the star, never to overrule him.
Caesar kept his dazzling smile as he moved to change the focus of the conversation. Swiping on the screen in front of him, the mirrored screen behind them switched from the image of a boy standing on a stage to a girl with flaming red hair.
"Now talk aboutβ"
He stopped mid-sentence, his face almost growing more genuine in excitement as he slowly turned to Milton, pointing to his earpiece as he waited for whatever he was being told to finish. And when it did, he first whispered to Milton, the other man perking up as well as he beamed to the camera. And dragging out the suspense as much he could, Caesar slowly looked back to the camera, stood a bit straighter in his chair, and nodded.
"District 4 is just about to call their tributes. So we hand over to them."
With that, the two men disappeared from sight entirely, and the whole picture switched to the view of a stage. A rather plain-looking thing. A podium dead center with a microphone, and chairs lined at the back, the people sat in them, nearly spanning the whole stage. A large banner with the number four waved proudly in what seemed to be a gentle breeze. On each side of the podium were stands that each held large glass bowls filled with papers. As a woman approached the podium, a man was walking back to his chair.
The woman was a sight. A deep blue, purple dress with sleeves that resembled that of fishnets. A large fish-looking hat of similar color sat atop a head of colored hair. Muted green, orangish-yellow, and bright blue mixed to create something that wasn't all that horrible of a look for hair. The scheme carried onto her skin, random splotches of green, blue, and yellow adorning her dark skin. The most simple part of it all was her face. Simple blue lipstick and eyeshadow.
It was so beautiful and yet so outrageously overdone compared to the line of people behind her. All of which wore plain clothes and singular colors. But she seemed to think nothing of how she stood out, her smile pearly white as she reached the podium. She leaned down to speak into the microphone, hands held up to hold out as she did so.
"Happy Hunger Games!"
A quick round of applause sounded out, seeming to feed into the woman as she gave it a moment before she flattened her hands and lowered them. Directing the crowd into silence.
"Yes, so very exciting! So let's not wait a moment longer. May the odds be ever in your favor. And as always, my ladies first."
She went to her right first, her frightening tall heels clicking against the wood as she approached the first glass bowl. Stopping in front of it, she reached one perfectly manicured hand in. Increasing the drama of it all, she looked to be contemplating as she moved her hand around in a circle, fingers waving. Then she froze... looking at the crowd with a raised eyebrow before smiling once more and moving her hand into the papers, pulling out one.
Everything was so quiet as she walked back to the podium. The camera panned a moment, increasing the field of view. Suddenly looking into the crowd below the stage. The corrals of people were all sectioned off. The ones in the front all so much smaller than those in the back. One side all girls, the other all boys. Roped off seemed to be adults scattered around the corralled sections. Every head was locked onto the woman as she walked. Every breath, cough, sneeze, shuffle held in as she took her place.
Looking up at the crowd one more time, her smile lessened to just her lips, teeth hid away as she looked at the paper in her hands. As she unfolded it. As she read it. Her eyebrow raised almost so quickly it would have skipped most. But she had corrected as she lifted her head to speak into the microphone, eyes still locked on what she read.
"Delilah Calamari."
A series of whispers broke out. Those on stage all exchanged quick glances. Heads in the crowd swiveled around... And from way in the back, one girl broke from the corral, stepping onto the path that made a walkway up to the stage.
The camera switched perspective, and suddenly, a front view of the girl walking to the stage. Two figures dressed in all white, guns in their arms, followed behind the girl, escorting her to the stage. In the background, you could see people staring her down, other girls watching with wide eyes... and something that almost resembled relief.
The girl... Delilah looked unfazed, face neutral, shoulders set, head high... all as if she had just simply been picked to give some planned speech. Her dress was without a wrinkle, and her hair was all expertly pinned back. She was prepared. As if she had already known that her name would be the one called. No hint of surprise on her.
Nothing in her would shift as she walked up the stairs to the stage nor as she took place beside the extravagant woman. She would just stare ahead, relax her stance and lock her hands loosely in front of her. She was almost so apathetic... so bored...
The camera panned back out to show the whole stage. The woman seemed a bit put off... hesitating before she moved on to the other bowl of papers. The dramatics were long gone as she seemed more ready to be done with it all.
"Hudson Magellan."
No one much reacted to that, just another series of head swivels before the blond boy pushed out of the crowd. Just before the camera had shifted to him, though, Delilah could briefly be seen tightening her hands... but it was missed as the boy was led up to the stage.
And as he took his place, looking just as prepared as the girl just feet away, the woman in the weird fish hat fixed up her smile, looking to the crowd.
"Now we are open to any volunteers."
Almost immediately, a hand shot up.
"I volunteer as tribute."
Heads shot to the steady voice that called out... even Delilah's, but the camera had moved again. Locked onto the dark boy who pushed himself to the walkway. The camera flickered back to Hudson on stage for a moment, catching his scowl, but it quickly moved back. Keeping the focus on who the new tribute for the boys would be.
Another series of whispers followed the boy, heads looking back up to the stage and then to him again. And when he settled on stage, and the camera panned to take it all in again... even those along the back of the stage whispered furiously in each other's ears.
On stage, the woman beamed at the volunteer.
"And what is your name?"
He was composed... just as ready for this as the other two who had been on that stage had been. But he did seem to have the slightest hesitation as he leaned over to the microphone, his eyes briefly landing past the woman who asked the question.
"Caspian Gilbert."
"And with that, we have our two tributes. Delilah Calamari and Caspian Gilbert."
The woman and the man from before switched places again. The man looked between the girl and boy, both of whom had taken to their individual stances forward. One bored and the other so stoic you just had to call it as such.
The man gave some closing words before motioning to the two tributes.
Turning, the two dropped their stances, facing each other and reaching out their right hands to clasp in a firm handshake. When their hands met, the anthem started up.
The girl and boy maybe held their hands for a moment too long, and their stare was strange... but before anyone could think about it, the view faded out.
Caesar Flickerman's orange hair was back. His face set in one of... genuine sort of shock. Milton seemed no better off, eyebrows high. But ever the showman, Caesar pulled himself back quickly. Turning on the professional again as he took control.
"Delilah Calamari... Now that is a name I was convinced we would never hear again."
Milton perked back up.
"A wonderful surprise; talk about an exciting year."
Caesar suddenly smartened up, the screen being the two men beginning to slide through some pictures. Holding on one of a family. A man, a woman, two younger kids, and a little girl in the woman's arms.
"Now, to provide context just for those who need the refresher. Ariel and Kai Calamari were victors in the 48th and 45th games, respectively. Kai's father had also won the 23rd game. They are the first legacy family of victors we have had. And so we were fortunate to spend a lot of time watching their family, from Ariel and Kai's wedding to watching their children grow. Tragically, Delilah's twin brother Drake was reaped and did not survive his game. And soon after, Ariel and Kai were caught in a terrible fishing accident that killed them both."
Milton shook his head.
"Terrible loss for us all. And then, out of respect, Delilah and the youngest have been kept well out of the spotlight. Truly thought the legacy was long gone."
Caesar nodded, allowing the grief of it all to sit for a moment before he would turn it back around. An image of Delilah on stage appeared behind them.
"But things are looking up."
Caesar pointed behind them.
"That is the face of someone ready to get in and fight for her family legacy. She is bored on that stage and is just ready to give us our new victor. Mark my words. Delilah Calamari is the one to watch for."