AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry for randomly disappearing... I've been more busy than I thought I would have been for the past few months. Honestly, I've been slipping. I want to work on this story, but I still have no male tribute for District One... So I'll just write this chapter. If I don't get one within the next two weeks, I'll make my own District One male tribute. Well, I hope you can forgive me (if you're still reading this).

...

President Knox Vine POV:

Ten Days Until the End

When I press the large red button on my desk, I feel powerful, like I am about to make something important happen.

Instead, the door to my office swings open, and Gild Glacier, my Head Gamemaker, strides in on high silver heels.

"President Vine," she says formally, bowing her head respectfully.

"Gild," I say, motioning for her to sit in the chair across from me. She does, smoothing a cream-colored folder on her lap. I don't waste any time; I know what she came here for. "Do you have the results?"

"Yes," she says, the corners of her mouth lifting in a snaky smile. She opens the folder and clears her throat in a self-important way. "The tributes from Districts One, Two, and Four are as deadly as always," she says, glancing up at me to see my reaction. My face is as impassive as always. "And I think the other tributes will... surprise us," she looks slightly troubled.

"Oh?" I ask, narrowing my eyes at her. Her tone is strange, like she is trying to hide her discomfort.

It's never a good thing when people hide things.

"The girl from Eleven... well, her information is interesting," she says, emphasizing the word strangely, like the word is twisting her throat on its way out.

"Interesting?" I hold out my hand for the folder, and Gild hands it to me after a moment's hesitation.

I flip to the section for District Eleven. I skim through her information, looking for anything that jumps out. At first, her information seems generic, but then my eyes land on two lines:

Highly troubled- Talks to snakes. Even more troubling- Snakes respond.

Has a very keen interest in poison.

My eyebrows raise. I had no idea that people in the Districts were into freaky voodoo... or that they had access to any form of poison.

I'll need someone to look into that later. I can't have the Districts getting their hands on anything potentially dangerous.

I hand the folder back to Gild. "Well, she's different. That's the whole point of these Games, right?" I ask, my voice making it seem like the matter doesn't concern me.

Gild still looks uncertain. "Yes, but... do you think it's... safe to have her with the other tributes before the Games?"

"Gild," I say, reaching over and patting her hand reassuringly, "Just because she is different doesn't mean she's stupid. She'll wait until the arena... I trust everything is going well with the arena?"

Gild looks relieved at the change in subject. "Yes, everything is perfect... We even added a few extra twists to make it special."

"Good, good," I say, "Now if you will excuse me, I have to get back to my work."

It's a clear dismissal, and Gild understands; she immediately stands, clutching her folder to her chest and bowing her head once again before scurrying out of the room.

When she is gone, I stand and go over to my window, which overlooks the polished Capital streets below. The people mill about, talking to each other, laughing. To them, the world revolves around them: they are the centers of their universes, they are blind to the world. Little do they know, they are small; as insignificant to this world as the ants on the sidewalks beneath their feet.

Give them a little privileges and a good life, and they will follow blindly. Bread and Circuses. Give them a crumb, and they give you the world.

This has always been the ultimate downfall of people- even in their darkest times, they can't band together to save themselves.