Chapter 16: "Smile for the Cameras"

"Competition makin' you nervous, cherie?" Remy drawled out with a lazy grin as he leaned closer to Gwen. The two of them were seated backstage with the other tributes — and Gwen had to admit that she was nervous, though not for the reasons Remy seemed to think.

"Just anxious to get it over with," Gwen replied as she twisted some of the white and pink fabric of her dress in her hands. Now that the Careers had finished their interviews, it felt a little more real — and watching the young girl from Five give the production assistants a 'touch me and you die' glare as she strutted up to the stage was only making it worse. Gwen didn't think she had much of a 'touch me and you die' glare, and she was starting to think she was going to need one.

Jessica Jones made her way over to her seat, though when Tivan offered her his hand to shake, she stopped short, looked down at it, narrowed her eyes for a moment, then gave him a sickly sweet fake smile of her own. "I don't think so," she said through the giant, obviously put-on grin.

"No?" Tivan looked honestly surprised and put out. "I assure you — I have been washing my hands between interviews, if you're worried…"

"I don't like being touched," she replied. "By anyone." She looked around the stage before she turned back to Tivan. "And I don't believe anyone here knows what real friendliness is. So … no."

Tivan's practiced smile fell for a moment as he looked her over before he shook his head. "Well, perhaps you can use that to your advantage in the arena, my dear girl."

"Oh, I'm sure I'll try, old boy."

He grinned at her with a bit of a flash to his gaze that the cameras didn't catch. "But then again, it is difficult to fight someone without touching them, unless you intend to follow after one of the two Hawkeyes from last year?"

She tipped her head to the side just a hair and smirked at him with narrowed eyes. "Like I'm going to tell you anything I have in mind, or that I'd be stupid enough to try to echo something that didn't work in the past."

"You must have something. You did score a four, not a three, after all — like some of the other younger children this year."

"I do have something," she said, nodding lightly. "But like I said — that's not your business. If it was, you'd have been invited into the booth to help judge. And considering your private affairs that I read about? I don't think that's ever going to happen."

"Then I hope you are around long enough to show us what you can do in the arena," Tivan said shortly, already standing to present her to the crowd.

"You … really want to see what I can do?" Jessica asked as she got to her feet. She gave him a tight smile and flipped him off. "That's what I can do, asshole." She didn't even give the crowd the dignity of a look as she tromped off the stage to her seat, leaving Tivan looking absolutely furious for a moment before he remembered to put on a smile for the cameras as he handed off to Patricia.

Gwen had to shake her head as she watched Five's boy head to the stage — no less surly-looking than his partner. He didn't seem to be actively combative toward Patricia, shaking her hand at least, though he didn't smile.

"James Barnes," Patricia said as he took his seat. "It's a bit of a shock to see you volunteer after last year's fiasco. What drove you to do that?"

"Just didn't think anyone else needed to say goodbye to their friends and family on account of my not doing anything," he muttered, shrugging up one shoulder and looking clearly uncomfortable in his suit, despite MJ's best efforts.

"And you think you'll be able to make it back in one piece? That's … not exactly surprising, considering who your best friend was. Why don't you tell us how things are back home? I'm sure there are plenty here that were surprised to see you were alive after that incredible fire last year."

Bucky frowned hard at the mention of the fire that had been shown to Steve in last year's Games. "Yeah, the cameras missed the part where I got out through the window, apparently," he said with a deeply settling glare. "Do I look dead to you?" He gestured at himself, his tone suddenly fierce and not at all like the surly near-mumbles that he had been giving her earlier.

"Quite the contrary," Patricia said. "You look just as formidable as your best friend did when he sat here to introduce himself to Marvel."

"Steve's wasn't formidable," Bucky said with the ghost of a smirk. "Never was. That's what he kept me around for."

"So you're saying that you're the more dangerous … or you were the more dangerous of the two of you?"

"Guess you'll just find out, won't you?" he said with a noncommittal shrug.

"I guess we will," she replied with a genuine smile. It was clear she was getting the better cases so far for interviews … if you discounted Skurge and Kilgrave. "Best of luck to you, Mr. Barnes."

Bucky didn't do much pausing to wave at the audience or cameras and just seemed to head in a straight line for the backstage waiting area, though Gwen had to smile when she saw the little girl from Six lightly punch him in the shoulder. "You did great!" Kamala assured him with a smile even as she headed out to her own interview and looked fairly nervous herself, wide-eyed on seeing just how large the crowd was, how bright the lights were, and how Tivan was grinning at her like he just knew she was going to die and didn't care at all about it.

Still, somehow, Kamala managed to get out onto the stage without falling — to her ultimate relief — and even waved with both hands at the crowd as Tivan introduced her, though once she was in the chair, she felt supremely uncomfortable again as she felt, quite simply, too small for the overly large seat. How was she supposed to look intimidating when the seat made her look tiny?

"How nice to meet you, Miss Khan," Tivan said with a grin. "Tell me — how are you faring with your support team?"

"Oh, I'm doing okay," she assured him with a quick nod. "My escort is actually very nice. She's been great to show me how to do things — like working the TV and where to go for snacks. You know, the important stuff!"

"Yes, very important, all things considered," Tivan laughed. "Were you terribly disappointed in your scores? I mean, there isn't too much a girl your size can do, really," he added in what didn't even pass as a consoling tone.

"Oh, you are so wrong," Kamala said, shaking her head. "I can do plenty. And yeah, I was hoping for better scores. I guess… I guess people just can't get past how small I am." She glanced toward the audience and found the victors near the front, and her gaze slid past the annoyed-looking Schmidt to find Logan. When he smiled her way and gave her a little wink, she took in a deep breath and nodded. "But that's their mistake."

"Well, big talk from such a tiny girl," he laughed. "But we still wish you the very best, young lady."

"Oh, don't worry!" she said earnestly. "I've learned a lot while I've been here. I think you'll be surprised!"

He grinned her way before he presented her to the crowd as 'The Amazing Miss Marvel', which got a little bit better reaction than she'd expected. She was grinning to herself as she skipped off the stage, clearly feeling good about her interview, even if it had been a bit shorter than the ones before it. Tivan just didn't know what to do with the younger crowd, obviously — which was going to come back and bite him, considering just how many young kids there were this year.

Of course, the next tribute was Brock Rumlow, and he was nothing like the sweet little girl Tivan had just interviewed. Thus far, Patricia had more or less gotten the easier interviews, but Tivan was flat-out snickering to himself backstage as Patricia sat down with the openly hostile young man in front of her. Brock simply refused to acknowledge the crowd or the cameras, dropping into the cushy seat like it was an imposition with his arms crossed and a glare on and a half-muttered, "Let's just get this over with."

"Fair enough," she said with a little frown. "What inspired you to volunteer? Was it to save a friend, or—"

"No," he said shortly. "Just figured it was about time Six had a victor. Should've had one last year, but seeing as that didn't work out? Guess I'll do it."

"And you've gotten a lot of good advice from your mentor, I'm sure."

"Plenty," Brock agreed, the beginnings of a smirk at the edge of his expression.

"I'm not surprised," she said. "You're the first one he seems to have really taken a shining to in recent memory. What is it you did to catch his eye?"

"Guess he only takes to the competent ones," Brock said, this time with the fully realized smirk on. "You asking for a demonstration?"

"I'm not sure what kind of demonstration you could give us now. Do you have anyone you're really gunning for — in particular?"

"Let's just say I'll be weeding out the weak links," Brock said, and there was no mistaking the malicious glint in his gaze.

"Sounds like you have a plan in mind," she said before she frowned a bit. "Your District Six … male tribute, ladies and gentlemen."

Brock all but swaggered off the stage, though if he had hoped to intimidate the next tribute up on the docket, he was sorely mistaken. Clara just wasn't having it at all, hardly even sparing him a glance as the stage reset and Tivan returned, looking positively delighted over the prospect of interviewing Clara — the closest thing to a "legacy" tribute they had that year.

The roar of the crowd was much higher for Clara than it had been for several of the tributes before her, and Tivan allowed it to go on until its natural end, clearly enjoying himself before he motioned for Clara to sit. "Clara Creed," he said, pausing over her last name with a clear grin. "I have to admit, we were all surprised to hear that name in the Games again."

"Then you were the only one," she replied with her chin tipped up slightly. "I figured it was just a matter of time, since the other brothers didn't get pulled."

"And I'm sure, if all goes well for you, we'll have two Creeds in the victor's circle in just a few days time — if you hold to the family tradition. Or are you hoping to go against the grain this year?" Tivan asked her.

"Oh, don't fool yourself, Tivan," she said with a cold glint in her smile. "Victor is the only psychopath in the family."

"Perhaps," Tivan allowed. "Certainly we didn't expect such a lovely young lady when your name was called — no offense to your brother, but you truly do outshine him, my dear."

"Well I did have big brothers to protect me," she said. "But there are plenty of other kids with much more to prove than I have."

"And you intend to let them, is that it?" Tivan asked, both eyebrows raised high to illustrate his obvious surprise at hearing a Creed say anything that wasn't nasty about her competitors.

"I'm not letting anyone do anything," she said with a little shake of her head. "But I certainly have nothing to prove by anyone."

"You're setting your own path, that's for sure," Tivan agreed. "And we're all looking forward to seeing just how you'll differentiate yourself from your brother — and from last year's victor." He grinned toothily at her.

"Comparisons are so boring," she replied. "And for small-minded people. Anyone stupid enough to compare the three of us to each other … well. Shortsighted would be a complement."

"Yes, actions do speak louder than words — and we look forward to seeing you in action, Miss Creed," he said shortly, standing to present her to the crowd so that the audience could go nuts again, using the turn to give her a bit of a glare for not playing along that the cameras didn't catch as they both moved off for the next interview.

She was sure to give him one last parting shot before she left, though, when he shook her hand and she leaned in closer. "It's a shame you won't be here next year." The predatory smile was unmistakable as she grinned his way for just a second before turning the smile to the crowd and positively stalking off the stage.

On the other hand, though, Scott and Patricia's interview could almost have been called friendly by comparison as Scott came out with a nervous smile and shook her hand politely, motioning for her to sit down before he did.

"Such a gentleman," she said with a broad smile. "What a refreshing change of pace!"

"That's just how I was taught," he said honestly, looking a bit embarrassed by the compliment.

"I'm glad to hear that, really," she said with a little laugh. "I take it your parents are to be given the credit for that and not the orphanage?"

"My mom," Scott admitted.

"That's a good thing to have learned from her. I'm sure you'll keep other lessons she taught you in mind too." Patricia took a deep breath as she resettled and considered her. "I'm sorry if it's too intrusive, but I'm sure our viewers are dying to know ... how old were you when you came to live at the orphanage — and your brother was taken to Nine?"

Scott frowned for the slightest moment. "I'm sure it's all in the records," he said. "I was just shy of six, so Alex would have been three at the time — since I know you'll ask him too. I doubt he remembers it much, though."

"And what about you? Do you remember much about your brother?"

Again, Scott had to pause, the frown deepening before he simply nodded. "Yeah," he said, obviously not wanting to give her anything more to use against him or his brother.

She gave him a kind smile that truly showed her reluctance to dig any deeper for his sake before she simply moved on. "Enough about the past. How have things been going for you since you've come to the Capitol? Have you made friends? Learned a lot?"

"Yeah, I've learned plenty," he said with a small nod, steadfastly not looking Logan's way. "As for friends, well — it's been nice to reconnect with Alex."

"And how are you getting along with your mentor? As I understand it, first timers can be a little … unaccustomed to how things are run."

"Yeah, you'd be right about that," Scott said with the slightest of smirks. "Though I'd say it's more that he just doesn't follow rules than that he's unaccustomed to them."

"That doesn't really surprise me with his reputation," Patricia said with a smirk. "But it does leave you in a good position for sponsors, so let's hope that it all works out well."

"Yeah, we'll see," he said, sensing the end of the interview as he stood for her again, offering her his hand to shake one more time.

"Good luck, Scott," she said with a genuine smile, quiet enough just for him to hear over the crowd.

With Scott leaving the stage, that meant it was time for Gwen's interview, and she straightened suddenly, surprised at how quickly that had gone as the production assistant ushered her toward the spotlights and the audience — and she found herself wishing she had Patricia as her interviewer instead of Tivan. At least Patricia was nice. Or ... nice to nice people.

On her way onto the stage, though, Gwen felt a hand on her shoulder and turned in surprise to see that her district partner was giving her an encouraging grin that really did seem to bolster her spirits somehow. "You gon' be jus' fine, petit," Remy promised her. "Knock 'em dead."

She just nodded his way for a moment before she hit the stage, blinking hard against the bright lights as somehow she made her way over to the chair. How did people even navigate in these dresses and the super bright lights and all that noise? It was totally overwhelming.

"What a pleasure to meet you, Miss Stacey," Tivan said, though some of the toothy grin had slipped since his last interview. "We heard such lovely things about you last year."

"Well, as you can see, it's all true — the nice stuff, anyway," Gwen said with a tiny smirk as she smoothed out the white and pink of her dress.

"I'm sure that's entirely true," he said silkily. "Though I'm not sure all the sugar and spice will do you many favors once you leave the protection of the stage, my dear."

"That's too bad, because I don't plan to change a thing about me once I get there," Gwen said honestly. "I think it works for me — being me."

"Well if you can be the first to charm your way out of the arena, we'll have to hold a special parade for you," he said with a smile. "But that was not the way it ran for your darling Peter, is it?"

"No," she said, and she looked honestly angry that he'd brought up Peter even though Norman had told her it was a distinct possibility. She couldn't help it; she just hated that they were dragging Peter down for being nice, for being Peter. "But that doesn't make me any less proud of him."

"Of course not," he said with a little pat on her arm. "It was just disappointing to see him throw away his chances."

"He did what was right," Gwen maintained. "Or at least what he thought was right. And that makes him a hero."

"Yes. Such a little hero, champion of those much stronger than himself. Precious, really."

"More than you can understand," Gwen said with a determined sort of nod. "And precious in a way you can't even conceive of."

He grinned delightedly. "So I'm told. Did you grieve for long before you took up with the young Osborn? I see in my notes his father is your mentor. Is there anything serious in the works should you find your way out?"

Gwen's eyes flashed with anger as she got to her feet. "There's nothing going on there," she insisted, gaining a bit of heat with every word spoken. "I've been spending all my time with Peter's Aunt May, if you must know, so no, I haven't even finished grieving. And I won't give you the relationship drama you guys made up to torture Peter in his Games. It was just wrong."

Tivan just grinned wider after he looked properly taken back for a moment. "Such passion," he said. "Perhaps you will do better than we thought. Your scores seemed to indicate a certain mousy nature … but clearly, that was underestimating you a bit. How nice to see. Perhaps we do have a spider that can make it to the end."

"You bet I can," Gwen said through her teeth, still on her feet and glaring as Tivan just seemed to be that much more thrilled as he presented her to the audience as "Spider-Woman."

Gwen still had clear anger in her gaze as she swept backstage, though as he passed her, Remy was sure to give her a broad smile. "You showin' your bite, lil' miss spider," he teased her, and she was so shocked by the tease that she couldn't help but smile.

She shook her head at Remy as he stepped out onto the stage like he owned the place, his long coat billowing out behind him with every step as he waved and blew kisses at the crowd. He had always been more comfortable with this part of being in the Capitol, and Gwen couldn't help but be a little jealous.

Once Remy had drunk in the crowd's adoration, he turned his attention to Patricia with a deep, sweeping bow as he took her hand and kissed it, and Patricia looked surprised for only a moment before her professionalism returned and she gestured for Remy to take a seat.

"Mr. LeBeau, are you always such a charmer?"

"Only when dere is a pretty girl like you, Miss Trish," he said with a grin.

"Then you must be working like it's a full time job around here," she replied with an easy smile. "Plenty of pretty girls in the running. Any of them you might be teaming up with?"

"We gon' see how it goes," Remy said with a little shrug. "But you right — dere's plenty of pretty dis year. You jus' seen my district partner, non? Ain't she a vision?"

"She's quite the lovely young lady," she agreed. "But I'd like to talk more about you for now." When he simply smiled her way, she continued, "That ... is an interesting accent, Mr. LeBeau."

"What, you ain't never heard Cajun before?" he asked with a winning smile. "Lil farther north den we used t'be, but we moved outta Four during de war — leastways, das what ol' Remy been told."

"I can't say that I have, but it suits you well," she said, still smiling his way. "What can we expect from our Cajun charmer in the arena?"

"Oh, now, cher, I can't go tellin' tings like dat," Remy said, shaking his head with an easy smile, leaning back in his seat and looking like the very picture of comfort. "You don' worry your pretty head 'bout a ting. Ol' Remy can handle his own self."

"I'm sure you can, Mr. LeBeau, if reputation has anything to do with it."

"Miss Trish, what pack a lies you been listenin' to?" he teased. "I ain't done nuttin' yet here to earn me a reputation, and I know I ain't got one for fightin' back home."

"Fighting, no," she said with a little smirk. "But you're still quite well known for other reasons."

"It's true," he allowed, though the playful smirk was only widening as he said it. "You done heard about Remy's good looks and charm all de way out here den?"

She couldn't help but laugh a bit as she shook her head. "That ... was not something we were warned about, I'm afraid."

"Ain't nothin' to be afraid of. Jus' 'cause you didn' know 'bout ol' Remy don't mean a pretty ting like you can't keep up, I'm sure," he teased.

"You are just ... " She let out a little sigh and shook her head. "A joy to interview. Good luck, Mr. LeBeau. I hope to speak with you again."

"Miss Trish," Remy said, leaning forward a bit. "It would be an honor." With that, he gave her another wide, winning smile before he swept off the stage, even managing a little grin and quick side hug for Kitty on her way out to top it all off — clearly wanting to share his good mood.

Gwen just had to shake her head at him as he sat down next to her. "That went well," she muttered to him, and he positively beamed at her.

"Don' worry, cher, I talked you up good for 'em," he chuckled, and she couldn't help but shake her head at him as the interviews moved on.