You can bid now! Just say in the reviews: I bid blahblahblah points on (tribute). For instance, I bet 70 points that Felix will win! Or something.
STILL ALIVE LIST:
Skyrah Labelle(D1 Female)
Felix Saunders(D2 Male)
Calamity Astrea(D3 Female)
Azurine Bahari(D4 Female)
Cameron Bordeaux(D6 Male)
Cornell Wheaton(D9 Male)
Jackson Winters(D12 Male)
Skyrah Labelle
The Labelles were definitely strange, I- Zinci Morlivsko, the most famous fashion designer in the world- observed as I stepped into the room. Or maybe, it was just their clothes, how they were so plainly dull compared to my own sparkly dress. I'd made sure to pick her best one that morning, just for the occasion, and now it felt like it was being all put to waste. Even my worst clothing combo was better than their ragged, depressed outfits, I couldn't help thinking.
Hammod Labelle, Skyrah's father, had her large brown eyes. He looked very tense and rigid next to relaxed Charmane, the mom. Overall, I could hardly imagine them being a couple; they seemed like polar opposites. I wondered how exactly I could interview two completely different people at the same time; usually I was trained to act based on one personality.
"Please, sit down," Charmane spoke quietly, her mouth barely moving, face blank. I could see the glowing, fierce light of hope in her eyes though. Very inspirational.
I nodded to both of them as I took a seat on one of the hard, straight-backed chairs. It was so uncomfortable, the edges cut roughly, so unlike the ones back at the Capitol, where every angle was rounded, and covered in tons of silk pillows.
"So, what would you say was your first reaction to finding out that Skyrah had survived this far?" I asked conversationally, trying to get them to ignore the large microphones pointed at their faces.
Charmane paused, glancing at Hammod. "Astonishment," the latter said calmly, not meeting her hazel gaze.
"And?" I inquired, willing them to speak up.
Hammod clenched his fists. "It was absolutely incredible, we had never imagined she could get so far. We would like her to win, very, very much and- we are so proud of her," he answered solemnly. Charmane nodded beside her husband, her sweet nature easily overlooked by the cameras.
"Why do you want her to win?" I asked, a smile softening the words. "Do you have some special reason besides gaining riches?"
Charmane replied this time with, "We need the money. I have- it's complicated." She shook her head.
"I have more than enough time to listen to your story. Please, continue," I nodded respectfully.
Hammod's glare was sharp against the back of Charmane's head as she said quickly and with force, "We have laid a curse on our family- the traditions..-, that can only be lifted if- at least, I think- if we can use this money to start a new life, somewhere else." Her stutter was amusing.
Hammod cut in, "It is complicated. You see, apparently she blames me and our family tradition, and her plan is to abandon me and take our daughters, once Skyrah wins and they have the money, away from the 'curse'.
"It isn't a curse," he argued, "it's tradition. You just don't understand that, don't you? You don't see how important it is?"
"Well, when I married you, I had no idea of this 'tradition'," she shouted. "To ensure my daughters' safety and their freedom, I need to take them away."
I blinked. "This appears to be some kind of secret- Hammod, how exactly did you find out of your wife's plan?"
His fingers curled in angrily. "I overheard her talking about it one night, in her sleep."
"I can't control what I say in my sleep!" Charmane groaned, pressing her palms to her ears. "Can't you understand that? You never know- it might've just been some crazy dream I had."
"It is not a crazy dream," Hammod growled.
"Er- settle down, please," I interrupted. "Hammod, when did you hear her say it in her sleep?"
"Only a few days ago, after the Games had begun," he responded swiftly.
"And Charmane? What have you to say to defend yourself?" I purred.
She glared furiously. "All of this is a lie!" she exclaimed. "Why do you have to follow your stupid traditions? Can't we just make our own life, do what we want to do, not what your ancestors did a million years ago?"
"What are your family traditions, anyway?" Another question.
"First of all," Hammod began, "every four years, a member of the family has to volunteer for the Games. Also, every female is assigned a lover at an early age by the father, whom they eventually will marry and have children with." He nodded curtly.
"That's all?" I raised an eyebrow. "It doesn't seem..too bad."
"Yes," he grunted.
I ended with some more questions, overall thinking this was really weird how they had "traditions". Besides, the traditions didn't even seem all too bad. Surely the "lover" he was talking about was at least someone okay. It might be a bit forceful and unfair, but not enough to make someone run away, in my opinion. And the thing about a member of the family having to volunteer for the Games...I laughed at that. Look how well Skyrah was doing! Why should they be worried? If this tradition hadn't been there, then Skyrah wouldn't have volunteered, leading to zero chance of riches.
Zero.
Felix Saunders
Felix's family seemed a bit boring to me. They didn't have this weird, spooky, cool curse or anything, and they were a bit quiet as well. It was so difficult getting anything out of them, and I barely remembered any of the conversation. At least the previous, nervous-making argument had been interesting, attention-capturing. But this: just..no.
"What chance do you think Felix has of winning?" I questioned.
They just looked extremely wary of all the cameras pointed at them.
Felix's mother, tall like him, with grayish green eyes, peered widely at us. "Who are you?" she inquired sharply, looking down her long nose at me and my sparkly dress. Suddenly I felt a bit uncomfortable, like I was bragging to them or something.
"I'm Zinci Morlivsko, a Capitol fashion designer, perhaps one of the most famous in the world," I answered proudly.
The only reaction Felix's mom gave was that of an unimpressed woman who desperately wanted to leave.
"And you?" I asked, even though I knew her name already.
"Sierra Saunders," she replied curtly. "And this is my husband, Jack."
"Hello, Jack and Sierra," I said. "So, what is your answer to my previous question?"
"Excuse me?" Jack squinted at us.
"I mean, the question I asked before: What chance do you think Felix has of winning?" I repeated.
"We have complete confidence in him," Jack beamed. Sierra nodded, glowing eyes fixed on me in a sort of challenging way.
I cleared my throat, looking back down at my clipboard. "Ah, next question then."
Calamity Astrea
I knew her parents both worked in a lab, and it certainly looked like it as I sat in a chair across from them. They were both wearing lab coats underneath their normal, dull clothing, and their pockets were filled with...strange stuff that I couldn't name.
"What was your reaction to when Calamity was reaped?" I asked my first question, hoping they would be better at replying than Felix's family.
Calamity's father, who looked basically just like her, shook his head, his eyes going far away. "It was terrible," he said in a faint, watery voice. "It was like.. Like..the sky has fallen on top of us, and we have no way of climbing out from underneath. We had no hope, whatsoever, we thought she was going to die."
The mother nodded; I could see tears sparkling in her eyes. "Horrible..It was horrible...," she murmured sadly. Then the corners of her mouth lifted a little and she said, "I don't know how she has survived this long in the arena, yes, we have seen her in the videos but.. But... After that monster appeared in one of the clips, our hope, it sort of just..went away, again." She let in a deep, shuddering breath.
I swore I just fell off my chair at that moment. "A..monster?"
Calamity's mother nodded fervently, "Yes, medium-sized with cruel eyes, the color of, I don't know, blue smoke? There were a few shots of him. He killed Spruce, remember? And he indirectly killed little Alice."
"I don't know what you're talking about," I forced myself to say, even as I knew exactly who she meant. Wendigo, who had been in prison, got out, managed to get a position as mentor for Murray, then disappeared again. His crimes were terrible, he had actually gotten away the first time, into the outer Districts, before being captured again.
Calamity's father shook his head. "Forget it. I know it's something of the Capitol's that you just won't tell us about." He blinked wearily.
"I swear, I know nothing about it!" I exclaimed, the lies burning my throat.
"Yes, you do." Calamity's mother's gaze was hollow, filled with bitter triumph and exhaustion. "Think, Zinci. Do you remember any monsters in Capitol history?"
My tongue felt numb. "Yes," I whispered. "Yes, I do know one."
Azurine Bahari
"So you are the adopted parents of Azurine?" I asked. They both nodded yes.
"They" was a mom, a dad, and an adopted brother, who had insisted on coming. The three people looked nothing like Azurine, who was short, olive-skinned, and had dark hair, as opposed to pale and blonde.
"And I believe you are a previous Hunger Games victor?" I questioned to the brother professionally.
He smiled, revealing teeth filled with metal braces only someone rich could afford. "Yes," he confirmed. "I won the 33rd Hunger Games, three years ago." I let the camera zoom in on his grin, knowing that at least half the Capitol girls would probably be swooning over him. They did with any male Victor, so it was predictable, anyway.
"You must have high expectations of your sister winning," I assumed.
He nodded, an admittance he wasn't afraid of sharing. "Yes, and is there any wrong in that, I wonder? Most individuals would think expecting someone to win is somehow against the law." A challenging glint entered his eye as his shoulders lifted. "After all, she has received the exact same training as me, and if I won, she should too."
"What about you two?" I said to the parents, inclining my head toward them respectfully. "Do you expect her to win as well?"
"Of course," Azurine's mom replied, with a raising of the eyebrows. "Although.." Her gaze narrowed and she let out a strange kind of croaking-laugh. "She is so small, so weak in training. I am afraid I have several doubts about her, but perhaps she will surpass my uncertainties." It was clear she thought otherwise.
"My opinions are still the same about her, and that is an immense wall of guilt. Why, you might ask? Well, that is because I believe we did not train her enough, and that we should've pushed her harder. I know she always thinks we are too harsh on her, but it's what she needs to win," the father added in a very refined voice.
I nodded, "Mmm. Makes sense. You talk very sensibly in this matter."
"I wouldn't want anyone accusing me on nonsense," the father said gravely.
I smiled warmly. "I believe our viewers would not blame you of such things after hearing your quite logical statement."
He gave a small grunt.
I checked my watch, the very cool spinning one I had gotten for my birthday last year. It had a ton of different spinning arrows that seemed extremely random, until you realized the half second that they paused was the time. It took me a second to wait for the revolving lines to stop, in which it pointed at approximately 11:31am.
"It is time for me to go, I'm afraid. I hope you two have the best of summers, and your daughter the most wonderful 'winter'."
Cameron Bordeaux
"Hello, Dan- Kyla," I greeted, noting they were the mirror images of Cameron. "Welcome, welcome."
Dan gave a tense smile through his teeth. "Thank you, er- excuse me for asking- but what's your name again?"
"Zinci, Zinci Morlivsko," I answered, trying to make the couple be at ease. Currently, Kyla, Cameron's mom's lower lip was twitching so hard I was actually surprised there were no tears running down her face already.
"Kyla, are you okay? I know it is horrible to watch your twelve-year-old son volunteer, but surely there is some good in it? After all, he has come so far, you can't give up hope now." I didn't want to say that maybe she had never had hope to begin with.
Her only response was a long sniffle and pressing her hand to her eyes in anguish.
"Please, relax. I am only trying to help." I was at a loss of what to say as I gazed into her heartbroken face. I had never even experienced horror and sadness, anyway. I mean, if you counted roller coaster rides when I was younger... But still, my family was all healthy and none of my relatives had ever died in my lifetime. I barely knew grief.
A bit angered that they had left me to deal with this, I said quickly, "Why not, um, leave us now? It seems you need to- rest and think it over."
She shivered for a second, her eyes welling up again, then bit her lip and said determinedly, "No, I..can manage."
I continued on with the interview. It was a bit boring because Kyla kept crying, and I couldn't make her feel better, but everything else was okay. I asked them their reactions to Cameron volunteering and they all responded with looks of horror, and of slight amazement he had made it into the final seven.
It was definitely a very nice, friendly family, however, and they definitely cared about their son a lot.
Cornell Wheaton
I expressed much sympathy when I saw Cornell's family. His mother was basically a figure of depression, and his father had recently fell very ill. It was all so horrible and I couldn't believe something so bad could happen to a family. I wished they could receive care at the Capitol, where his father would definitely recover due to better medical developments.
I was totally rooting for Cornell by the time I was finished with the interview. They just seemed so sad and poor, and I longed to help them out. If he won, he would have enough money to pay for his treatment. That was so much better reason than just pure ambition and the need to prove oneself.
His father was so sick he had to stay in bed while I conducted the interview, and his mother was pretty non-talkative, simply gazing off into the distance, where perhaps a better world thrived than her own. Her children, siblings of Cornell, mainly did the talking, explaining about the loss of Grayn and how the event had made their mother so depressed.
The interview was short, mainly because I wanted to sit in a corner and just bawl my eyes out for them. I felt like I was in a real life movie, one of those dramas you see on television that are so, so sad. But, another reason was because by the end of their explanations, Prairie was already out of breath and required a moment to recover. I instead offered to leave, so that they could help her out and she wouldn't be too panicked with me around- plus of course the cameras. They accepted very gratefully.
Jackson Winters
Jackson I felt sorry for as well, but not as much as Cornell. After all, the kid had nothing to return home to, except his evil parents who constantly beat him, day by day, until he was covered in bruises. No doubt, if he won the money, they would be even crueler to him, out of unsatisfied jealousy.
Their evilness was apparent by the very first thing they said, a reply to my question, "What are the chances you think Jackson will get home alive?"
His mother's lip curled in an expression of utmost disgust, and she spat out, in one sharp, voice of hoarseness, "Honestly, I hope the little brat will be shipped home to us for his funeral. I never want to see him again, and I'm glad he is getting what he deserves."
Well. Okay, then.
"What exactly is so bad about him that you speak of him in such a way?" I asked very quietly.
She snorted. "He depends on us so much, thinks that just because he is related to us, we must help him survive and feed him every day. Honestly! He is lucky he even still lives beneath our roof, which we have paid for with our own money. He deserved to be let out into the wild, have a taste of what the real, bitter world is like." Her eyes narrowed until they were just mere slits above her sharp, crooked nose. "Nothing is free, not a cent."
I didn't really know what to say to that so I just muttered an, "Okay."
"Yes, my wife is right," the father said solemnly. "He should not take things for granted and that is why we treat him this way. I don't know why every other parent in the world is so nice to their children, because they don't deserve it at all."
Maybe it's because they have the right idea and you don't, I thought with a huff.
"I suppose," I concluded, not wanting to make them angry because I had seen what they could do.
A fire stoked in his eye and he flashed back, "I can tell you don't believe us. Nobody believes us! Everyone is too soft, just one look at those cute little eyes and they'll give anything the child wants to them. Well, we can actually see beyond that, to how spoiled they are on the inside, what they demand of us. And we will put a stop to it by refusing to give them what they desire."
1/14/17
a/n: i hate this chapter tbh