Chapter 17: "Interest Waning; Ratings Soaring"
By that point in the interviews, Tivan seemed to be in a slightly better mood than before, working off of his success at riling Gwen up as well as his glee over seeing Patsy having to deal with Remy — so by the time he got himself seated across from Kitty, he had a lot of his confident swagger back as he took her in.
"Miss Pryde, it's so good to meet you in person this year," Tivan said with a wink and a smile as he leaned forward. "This does seem to be quite the year for nostalgia, remembrances, don't you think? Why, just last year, your good friend was opposite me on this very stage. Who could forget the amazing Nightcrawler? Though of course, you likely knew him better as simply Kurt."
"Yes, well ... I'm not the fashionista type, so I couldn't tell you about that side of things," Kitty said, already on her guard after having seen the way Tivan handled all of the interviews up to that point.
Tivan shook his head and smiled at her. "Won't you tell us about this last year since the loss of your friend? Has it affected the way you're preparing for your own Games at all, having seen your friend before you?"
"I'd really rather not," Kitty replied, her arms crossed as she made it clear even in her body language that she wasn't going to give Tivan what he was looking for. "I think like most of us that had a friend in it last year — we tried to just put it behind us."
"Of course, of course," he said in a consoling tone. "It must still be hard."
"Yet that's all you want to talk about," Kitty said with a frown.
"You must understand the curiosity," Tivan said as if this was obvious. "You can't expect us to believe that it hasn't changed the way you play the Games."
"Oh, I understand it," she said with a nod. "But enough has been taken from us that what little we have left is private." She let the statement hang in the air between them for a moment longer before she narrowed her eyes. "And it's going to stay that way."
"I hope for your sake that's true, but as we all know, the Games have a way of revealing the innermost thoughts."
"Only when you push to drag it from people," Kitty countered. "Pretty uninspired journalism just dragging up the past."
Tivan just laughed and held up both hands. "Then I won't push my curiosity any further," he said before he leaned in a bit. "But tell me, Miss Pryde — how do you plan to distinguish yourself from the pack this year? A score of five is hardly noteworthy, though it's a good, respectable score for an outlier district."
"And the scores, as I understand it, are hardly reliable."
"They do give us only a taste and not the whole story," he agreed, looking almost disappointed about it.
"Is there anything you wanted that might actually matter?" Kitty asked with a bit of a blush rising up. "Or are you just trying to stir us up?"
"I," Tivan said, drawing himself up a bit, "am simply trying to help you distinguish yourself, Miss Pryde. You want to be memorable before you go out there. The odds never favor the forgotten tributes." His eyes flashed for a moment before he leaned back in his chair and fell into another one of his practiced smiles.
"The odds never favor anyone," she replied with some heat. "Unless you're some foolish old man in a powdered wig."
"We'll just have to see then, won't we?" Tivan asked, the glare rising back up as he stood and didn't even bother to wish her luck as he presented her to the crowd.
"We will," she shot back before leaning past him. "Hi Trish! Great to see you here," she called out as she headed off with a wide grin.
As Tivan headed backstage, Kitty couldn't quite hear what he was muttering under his breath, but it was something about how 'repeat tributes' like her and the others were impossible to deal with because they'd already been through the ropes once and it just wasn't 'new' anymore.
Nine's young man came out with an unsure smile that was nearly an outright copy of his brother's. Aside from coloring, and a bit of build … the two could have been twins — especially with the way Alex's stylist had clearly tried to emphasize the family resemblance and even age him up a bit with a little makeup and creative tailoring to match Scott better.
"Hi, Mr. Summers — do you mind if I call you Alex?" Trish said with a warm smile as she offered him her hand and welcomed him to the stage.
"Please. Everybody calls me Alex. I don't know what to do with 'Mr. Summers,'" he said with a little nod as he took the offered seat.
"You and your district partner — it says here that you knew each other back home. That's nice to see — some solidarity from before the Games begin. How did you meet?"
"Working in the field," Alex said with a little shrug. "Kitty's always been nice, so she's friends with just about everybody, though."
"Is everyone in Nine that friendly?" she asked. "I seem to remember her at the Wagners' when we went through to do the interviews."
"Yeah, the twins love her," Alex agreed. "But Nine ... it's like one big community. Even spread out, we get together for harvests, things like that." He grinned. "It's got some excellent parties."
"That ... is not something I expected to hear, honestly," she said before she tried a different track with the younger Summers boy. "Any girls back home that hold your heart?"
He just laughed at her. "A couple, but hey, I'm thirteen. I got time." He paused as the words seemed to hit his ears properly, and for the first time, his smile faltered. "Or at least ... I did, I guess I should say."
"You never know, you could come out of this," she said with an encouraging look. She took a deep breath before she drove forward with the question that the audience all knew had to come up: "But I'm sure you never expected to meet your big brother here. How has that been? Have you spent any time together?"
"Loads," Alex said, though he pulled a bit of a face when he said it. "He's trying to 'look out for me,' which — hello. Avenger Games. He's a dork."
"Family trait?" Trish teased with a sparkle in her eyes. "Or is that his own personal issue?"
"Hey, you tell me. Do I seem like a dork to you?" he asked earnestly, gesturing at his suit and tie and flashing her a crooked smile.
"Not too much," she admitted, still smiling. "Anything you'd like to say to your family back home?"
He shrugged and seemed to think it over for a moment before he just waved. "Sure, I guess. Hi, Mom and Dad — see ya soon. Probably."
Trish hid her smile well as he finished his message and then presented the younger Summers to the crowd, though the light mood of her interview with Alex very quickly evaporated when Tivan took the stage with Yuriko.
"Miss Oyama," he said with an oily smile. "We've been looking forward to having you out here with us, considering your score is the highest out of everyone in the running this year. How did you do that?"
She glared at him for a moment, sizing him up slowly before a smile started to creep over her features. "By simply being myself," she replied easily. "How else would such a thing happen?"
"That is truly impressive. And yet we know so little about you other than your disarming presence and your high score."
"There is nothing else you need to know," she said shortly.
"So that's all there is to it? Just get on to the Games?" he asked.
"It's far better than listening to your drivel," she replied as she simply looked out into the dark crowd. "I think we've all had quite enough of that."
Tivan frowned. "It helps some of the other tributes to be able to get their stories out there before the Games begin, but I can see you simply don't need that, do you?"
"It helps no one but your frail ego," she replied in an easy, slow drawl. "Delicate thing."
Tivan shook his head, clearly deciding enough was enough as he stood to present Yuriko to the crowd, who at this point were far less warm and receptive and were starting to honestly get a little listless, both from nerves watching the Tens interview and simply because there were so many kids to get through at once.
But Tivan did shoot Trish a horrible smile as he actually wished her 'good luck' with the tribute from Ten that she was set to interview next. Trish tried to return the smile, but as soon as Arkady Gregorovitch came out, it was clear that it was going to be a horrible experience for everyone involved.
The tall, broad young man was … massive. He had a more disturbing demeanor than Tivan did … smiling in a smug way as he all but pushed her backward by sheer presence.
"Right then," she said as she tried to gather herself. "Well, Mr. Gregorovitch — this year, it really looks like your district will be the one to watch, considering your scores."
"Of course it is," Arkady replied with a condescending tone. "Scores mean nothing compared to everything else, though. These children…" he said with a bit of a chuckle as he gestured to where the others were seated. "Are nothing. They will break quickly."
"Then you're not at all worried about going into the arena tomorrow?" she pressed, both eyebrows raised as it was clear the answer had thrown her.
"Just tired of all the time wasted. I come here to kill. Let me kill." He said it off-handedly, as if it was simply part of his usual schedule.
It was clear Arkady's attitude had taken Trish back as she tried to find something she could work with from that answer before she simply had to shake her head and let out all her breath. "It sounds like you're ready, then."
He chuckled at her expression and waved her off as if it was the funniest thing said all night. "So nervous, you little girls."
She frowned hard, jutting out her chin almost unconsciously at the clear brush off. "Well, this is my first Games, but I have to admit, you're not exactly a typical tribute, are you?"
"Typical," he said like a curse, "is boring."
"And you're certainly not that," she agreed before she cleared her throat and quickly got to her feet to present him to the crowd, ready to end the interview with the very off-setting young man.
He stood up — somehow looking bigger than before as he smirked down at her and cut a path off the stage as the lights died down on that section, only to warm up again for the youngest tribute in that year's Games, little Monet St. Croix.
"Miss St. Croix — may I call you Monet?" Tivan asked with an almost-kind sort of smile that he reserved for the very youngest tributes in the Games every year.
"You may," she said, sitting up straight with a mysterious smile of her own.
"Monet, I hope you don't mind my saying so, but we were all blown away when we saw that the youngest tribute this year had a score of-," Tivan leaned forward, eyes wide to illustrate just how surprised he was, "- seven!"
"It's not terrible," she said with a shrug. "But not incredibly impressive either."
"For a girl your age? My dear, it's the same score last year's victor had. Forgive me, but it is, in fact, quite impressive."
"Yet Miss Pryde from Nine had a point — the scores mean so little in the long run," Monet said cryptically.
"That may be true, but still, we're all dying to know just what it is about you that impressed the judges. Surely you can tell us — if it doesn't matter in the long run," Tivan prompted.
"I'm afraid I don't know what I did," she said easily. "I simply made use of what was in front of me and then left before the time ran out."
"Resourceful and efficient, then — that must be part of it," Tivan said with a little nod. "But tell me, Monet — you're the youngest this year. How are you feeling about tomorrow? Nervous? Excited? Do you have any friends with the older tributes who might be able to help?"
"Um … not particularly, no," she said, though she glanced back to where she knew Miles was off stage. "There are quite a few nice people in the Games this year. Perhaps I won't have to kill them."
Tivan looked taken aback for a moment as he looked over the little girl. "You certainly seem confident in your abilities," he said, not quite keeping all the surprise out of his tone.
"What good would it do me to doubt myself now?" she asked as if he was completely out of his mind for suggesting such a thing.
"I suppose that is entirely true," Tivan said, shaking his head the slightest bit before he simply chuckled and offered her his hand. "I certainly hope that your confidence isn't misplaced, Monet. We'll all be watching," he added as he turned her out toward the crowd to present her.
She looked out with a demure smile before she glided across the stage to take her seat — positively unafraid of the Ten boy next to her, and not giving him even the slightest of her attention as she smoothed out the fabric on her dress while he glared down at her.
Miles, on the other hand, was all but bouncing in place as the time came for his interview, brimming with nervous energy as the production assistant waved him toward the stage. He had both hands shoved deep in the pockets of his red-lined black suitcoat as he took a few faltering steps out into the lights, though he caught sight of Sam in the audience giving him the 'go on' look and remembered to smile and managed to pull one hand out of his pocket and wave — and then shake Trish's hand before he got seated.
"Miles, is it?" she asked as she gave him a smile. "How are you holding up?"
"Oh, you know, just trying to wrap my head around three days of cramming," Miles said, waving his hand and ending by pointing at his own forehead. "It's like studying for the most stressful test ever, but other than that, it's been good. It's been real good. How're you?"
"I'm great," she said, still smiling warmly. "Do you feel like you're ready for this test?"
"Oh heck no," Miles said, shaking his head several times. "No way. I need, like, five hundred more hours and a learner's permit first before I'd feel ready. But that's just the way it goes sometimes. Pop quizzes. Only, you know, most pop quizzes don't end in death."
"Worst test ever," she said with a smirk. "Is there an area you consider yourself to be an expert at after your three days training?"
"I guess I'm pretty good with tr— he-e-e-ey." Miles stopped in mid-sentence and looked to Sam before he looked to Trish. "HEY. You were trying to find out what I'm good at so I'll give it away!"
She laughed a bit at him and shook her head. "Just trying to make conversation, Miles. What would you like to talk about if not what you've learned? I'm game for whatever you'd like."
"Oh, really? I totally didn't prepare for any of… well… I guess... " Miles leaned forward and put his chin on both hands in closed fists. "Huh. Well ... I guess I could tell you about what I've been working on in school? I'm pretty decent in science. Which ... I know. You don't really expect that in Eleven, but somebody's gotta do all the processing in the plants and the vibranium mining and stuff…"
"Yeah, please — tell me about what you've come up with. I'm sure it's amazing."
He grinned at her widely and seemed to be much more relaxed now that they'd changed the topic. "Okay — so," he said, settling in to tell his story. "I've been working on a way to keep people safe? You know, when they're working with vibranium and stuff — and I'm trying to set up a system that distributes shocks across your whole body. So, say you get hit with falling ore, it would distribute the kinetic energy…. That's the theory, anyway. Right now all I can do is get it to hold a charge."
"That sound really complex," Trish said as she leaned closer, genuinely involved. "How did you come up with a system like that — even in theory?"
"I just figured — well, people are stronger than we give them credit for being," Miles said sheepishly. "And why not give them a little help to make them even stronger — use our natural strength… you don't think it's a stupid idea? I haven't gotten it to work at all…." He looked shocked by her interest in his science project.
"I think that if it could make people safer, it's a good idea that I'm sure could be used in more than just mining."
"Oh, I hope so," Miles said earnestly. "I really want to be able to help where I can. I just — my mom worked in the mines when I was a kid before we lost her, so that's where I got my start."
"Then I hope she's watching out for you, Miles," she said with a soft smile. "It sounds like you're just chock-full of ideas that need to be implemented."
Miles grinned at her outright, totally relaxed as Trish presented him as this year's Spider-Man, and he was positively beaming by the time he sat back down in his seat backstage, pleased with how that had gone, while some of the other tributes looked a bit jealous that he'd been allowed to go 'off script', so to speak.
They were approaching the end of the interviews, and it was the last for Tivan as America came strolling out — she'd negotiated her look with Noh down to a short skirt and sneakers, though the top was nicer and had stars — and it was clear Tivan was ready to be done. The interviews had not been good to him this year — he was obviously on his way out.
But America was not going to make things easy on him to be his last interview subject. She dropped sideways into her seat instead of sitting normally and draped her legs over the sides, regarding him for a moment like he was a bug and she was trying to decide if he was worth swatting while the polite applause died down.
"So ask your questions already, stupid," she prompted when he seemed to be waiting for the crowd.
"You are … Miss Chavez … a truly … unique tribute. A volunteer from an outlier with one of the highest scores of the Games ... " He paused, trying to find a way to be more eloquent. "What planet did you come from, really?"
"Not this one," she said dryly. "It's okay; I know it's dazzling, but you're gonna have to get through the interview, old man, so take a deep breath, keep your eyes up, and try not to faint."
"A bit of back and forth is usually how this works, Miss Chavez," he said, leaning forward a bit.
"Alright, then ask me something," she said, gesturing with one hand in a clear 'come on' routine.
"Why did you volunteer?"
"Because my idiot district partner volunteered," she said easily.
"So it was for a boy then," he said with a smirk.
"Not in the way you're thinking," she said.
"Oh, I've heard the denials before — all of them. This rings no different."
She just raised an eyebrow at him before she started to laugh. "Right. Well that would be an interesting theory if I dated boys, wouldn't it?" she asked, waving her hand.
"Well that's good news, for those that don't fall into that category," he said with a little laugh.
"We've got some lookers this year, too — did you notice? Girl from Two — and the stylists from Seven and Eight…"
"Oh, I'm quite sure the stylists won't be fiddling around with any more victors," Tivan said with a laugh. "But the girl from Two — your time is running short with that one."
"All I'm saying is she's cute. Nothing wrong with looking. But if she gets anywhere close to me in the arena, she's dead. I'm not playing games, and I came here with an idiot to save so he can go home to his boyfriend, get married, and have a family."
"How charming," he said, looking totally shocked. "So you have no plans to make it out at all then?"
"That's what I said — you need me to repeat it?" she drawled lazily. "Been saying since the start that I'm sending him back to his boyfriend. Why not listen?"
"I don't believe we've ever had a situation quite like this before — in the open. Secret promises, certainly, but not like this."
"It's alright, Tivan. I know you're old-fashioned, but times are changing. Maybe you'll even get to watch the wedding. Not that they'd invite you. They have taste."
He tried for a bit of an amused laugh, but it just didn't come out right as he tried — and failed — to hide the sneer. "Charming. As I've come to expect from Twelve."
"Yeah, I'm just sorry Kate didn't win so she could give you a piece of her mind too," America shot back with a glare. "Little one-two. Her punch, my kick. You'd be a soprano in three seconds flat, with a glass jaw too." She didn't wait for him to respond, either, deciding for herself that the interview was over as she slid to her feet and just gave him a little wave. "Have fun at your retirement party. I'll send Billy out to meet Trish for when he does his victory interviews. Good practice for him." With that, she sashayed off, leaving Tivan looking almost purple at how that had gone.
And Trish was waiting when Billy came out a short moment later, ready to greet him warmly. "Well. One of Twelve's rough and tumble gang," she said with a smile.
"Oh, I don't know that you could call us a gang. That ... sounds more intimidating and more organized than we actually are," Billy said with a small sort of smile. "We're just ... you know ... friends."
"It's been a hard few years on your little group of friends, hasn't it?" she asked. "But your volunteering — that had to be the highlight of the Reapings this year."
He smiled sheepishly. "I wasn't trying to… I just couldn't say goodbye to any more friends. Especially not Teddy," he explained softly.
"It seemed like he was having trouble saying goodbye to you too," she pointed out. "It was very sweet."
"Yeah, well. I love him," Billy said honestly. "So what else could I do?"
"All you can do is come back," she agreed.
"That's what I'm trying for, anyway," Billy said. "I've got some pretty good help in America, though — I guess you just saw."
"She's a great friend, isn't she?" Trish said. "I hope it all works out, but it's a tough field all the way around."
"Don't I know it," Billy agreed, shaking his head. "But we'll see how it goes. Maybe I can still win, right? Anything's possible."
"It must be, with the group that we have here — anything is still possible." She stood and presented Billy to the crowd, and as she'd done with a handful of the kids, she made sure to wish him luck sincerely when the cameras and microphones couldn't pick it up before he headed off the stage and she made her way to center to meet Tivan and wrap it up while the tributes headed back to their suites with their mentors.
