True McKellar, 17

District 8, She/Her

June 7th, 97 ADD

8:00 PM

"Welcome to the stage, True!" Elton said.

"Thank you for having me," True replied.

"Of course. Now, let's cut right to the chase. I hear that you're part of an alliance with several other tributes!"

True nodded, careful to conceal her dismay. Her alliance had agreed not to draw attention to their group. They'd been careful not to meet as a full group in public, which Jem hoped would make other tributes not realize how big the group was. Jest had already managed to avoid the subject altogether in his interview, but Wisdom had already dropped a few names. She needed to steer the conversation elsewhere.

"I am, but we're here to talk about me, not them, right?"

Elton smiled. "Of course! I was just curious, as is much of our audience."

"Sure, I've got allies."

"Care to comment further?"

True exhaled and crossed her arms. "You'll see 'em when you see 'em. All I'll say is that I like who I've got on my side."

"Such as Wisdom Garland, Jem Piper, and Chevre Kanaf-Kaziol?"

True side-eyed him. "Mm-hmm."

"How about this, True. What sorts of things do you contribute to such an alliance?"

True raised an eyebrow. This was a better question. "Plenty."

"You did receive an 8 in your private session, which was very impressive!" Elton said.

She nodded. "I did."

"Were you pleased with that score?"

"Yeah, I was."

"What skills did you demonstrate to the Gamemakers to make them think so highly of you?" Elton asked.

"Just a couple things I picked up in Eight," True replied.

"Such as?"

True shrugged. "Eight's got its share of nasty people, and I've met a couple. You learn how to defend yourself if you don't wanna get hurt too bad."

"I see," Elton said. "May I ask how you came to know these… unsavory individuals?"

True pursed her lips. "The worst of them was my Aunt Imani."

Elton gasped. "Your aunt?"

As if she didn't just say that. "Yeah," she said. "After my mom died, my dad's brother was helping us out, you know? But that's just what we thought. She was really just taking Dad's money and gambling with it. And we didn't have gambling money. There wasn't enough for that."

"Oh, dear!" Elton said. "That's terrible."

"So she put us in lots of extra debt, 'kay? And she put it in Dad's name."

"Oh, no!"

"Oh, yes. So debt collectors start comin' around, and those guys don't really take no for an answer. You give them money or they give you pain. I didn't like either of those options. So I gave them pain back."

"You fought them?" Elton asked.

True smirked. "For some guys, that's the only way to get the message across. But I've got a dad and a sister, and I wasn't letting those guys touch them."

"That's very noble of you, True."

She shrugged. "I think it's what anyone should do for their people."

(She decided not to mention the time she dealt with Imani herself. True had never told her dad about it, and she didn't want him finding out like this.)

"Still," Elton said. "Very noble."

(There was nothing noble about True going after Imani McKellar. Feeling her aunt's face beneath her knuckles had felt too good. It felt like justice. Justice for Imani fucking them over, for True spending years working on the streets, for her mom dying and leaving her behind.)

"Call it what you want," she replied.

(She was only fourteen then, but that True was angry. It had taken Imani's blood for her to start finding any kind of peace. And now, at seventeen, True McKellar could not deny that she was angry again. She was furious to be District Eight's sacrifice, and when she needed to, she would use her anger the only way she knew how.)

"So, you can fight," Elton said. "That'll surely help you come tomorrow morning! What weapon do you favor, True?"

"I… I'm not used to having a real weapon," True admitted. "Usually I go for whatever I can get my hands on."

(Whether she was using a metal pipe or a baseball bat or her bare hands had never mattered as long as she was angry enough.)

"That's versatile, though!" Elton pointed out. "To be able to improvise!"

True nodded. "Sure."

(Whenever her dad saw her get mad, he used to quote an old phrase at her. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. He was always the smart type.

Well, True disagreed.

Hell hath no fury like a pissed-off teenager. Hell hath no fury like someone with people to protect. Hell hath no fury like a young woman.

Yeah, she was gonna give them hell.)

Shazia Burnell, 17

District 9, She/Her

8:10 PM

"Thank you for joining us today, Shazia," Elton said. "I must say, you look lovely tonight!"

"Thank you," Shazia replied. She ran a hand along her skirt. Her stylists had put her in a long green dress with a halter top, and while it was far from her usual style, she did have to admit that she looked nice. It was also much better than her costume from the tribute parade, which was a burlap sack dress. That helped.

"Let me start off by complimenting you on your private sessions score. Were you pleased by your score of a 7?"

"I was," Shazia answered.

"What did you do to earn that score?"

She smiled. "I decided to be creative."

Elton raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

Shazia leaned back in her seat. "Well, at home, I work as a mechanic," she said. "I've also been fortunate enough to spend some time with another tribute who also knows her way around some pretty interesting gadgets. She inspired me to think outside the box a little more."

"Very interesting," Elton commented. "Where did that line of thinking lead you?"

She smiled again. "Some light pyrotechnics."

Elton's eyes lit up. "Very interesting!"

(Most of the session was spent putting the device together from various bits she found around the Training Center. Then she'd put it on the floor, covered it with the most flammable material she could find, thrown a dummy on top, and retreated up into the nets of the climbing course. From there, she watched as smoke turned into flames and the training dummy burned.)

Shazia waved a hand. "Really, it was nothing."

"And you learned how to do… pyrotechnics… back in Nine?" Elton asked.

"Most of my work had little to do with that," Shazia admitted. "My trade mostly involves fixing broken machines."

"Do you enjoy fixing machines?" Elton asked.

"I do. My grandmother taught me everything I know, and I like working with her," Shazia said.

"That's adorable!" Elton exclaimed.

Shazia nodded. "The Capitol is nice, but I miss her a lot. I don't know who I'd be without her."

"What a lovely sentiment," Elton replied.

"Honestly," Shazia said, "I don't think I'd be alive without her."

"How so?"

"She took me in when my mother died," Shazia explained. "My mother was a teenager when I was born, and she didn't survive childbirth."

"That's terrible," Elton said.

"So it's been me and my grandmother as long as I can remember," Shazia said. "She raised me, taught me a trade… taught me how to defend myself."

"Oh!" Elton said, perking up a little. "So you have skills in combat, you would say?"

Shazia nodded. "I would," she answered. She took a deep breath, preparing herself for the story she was about to tell. "And I don't go down easy."

"Have you been in combat before?" Elton asked.

Shazia glanced at the camera, knowing her grandmother was watching this.

(Her grandmother had never heard this story. But Shazia wanted to live, and to do that, she needed sponsors, and to get sponsors she needed to earn them. This would help her earn them.)

(She hoped her grandmother would understand.)

"I wouldn't really call it combat," Shazia said carefully. "But I've fought for my life. Twice."

"What do you mean?"

She exhaled. "The districts aren't as safe as the Capitol. There was one night I was walking home by myself, at night… I took my usual shortcut through an alley. I shouldn't have, though, and I was attacked by a man."

"Attacked?!"

"Attacked," Shazia echoed. "It was terrifying. He just wanted to mug me, you know. He took my wages from that month. I got pretty scraped up, too… I'm not sure what would've happened to me if that Peacekeeper hadn't shown up."

"Wow," Elton said.

"But I fought back as hard as I could," Shazia said. "He still got away, though. That time."

"That time?"

She nodded. "I saw him a few months later. He was getting drunk at a bar."

Elton's eyes went wide. "What did you do?"

(She remembered her face getting hot. She remembered following him as he stumbled home, her box cutter shaking in her fist. She remembered waiting until he made a wrong turn.)

"He was drunk," Shazia repeated. "He saw me, chased me again. But I was ready that time. I didn't let him get away."

(She remembered his fist in her stomach, her blade in his throat-)

"You turned him in to the Peacekeepers?" Elton asked.

(-his blood on her clothes, her hands-)

"No," she answered. "I killed him."

The audience gasped. Shazia lifted her chin, unfazed.

(Shazia Burnell already had blood on her hands. She was not afraid to add more.)

Bryony Kantor, 18

District 11, She/Her

8:30 PM

"Hello, Bryony!" Elton said. "How are you this evening?"

"I'm good, thank you," she replied. "Thank you for asking."

"Of course," he said.

"How are you? You look nice tonight," Bryony told him.

Elton smiled. "How kind of you," he replied. "I'm doing fantastic! All these incredible tributes I get to meet, and it's taken us much too long to get to meet you! Enough about me. Tell me about yourself."

She nodded. "My name is Bryony, I'm eighteen years old, and I'm from District Eleven. It's not an easy place to live, but it's beautiful and has many good people. I live with my parents and I'm an only child, but I have lots of aunts and uncles and cousins."

"That sounds lovely," Elton said. "Are you in school?"

"When I'm able to," Bryony replied. "I spend most of my time trying to help my community. There are a lot of working parents, so for the last few years, I've tried my best to check in on all the children that are left behind during the workday, especially during the summertime."

"Do you like kids?" Elton asked.

"I love them," Bryony said. "And, to be completely honest, District Eleven needs the help. If I can help make a few people's lives a little brighter, I'll absolutely do it."

Elton placed a hand over his chest. "That's so sweet," he said. "Adorable, even."

Bryony smiled. "Thank you."

"Does entering the Games worry you, then?" Elton continued. "As many of the other tributes are children as well?"

Bryony's smile froze.

"I mean no ill will, of course," he said. He swept a hand out to the audience. "But we just want to be assured that you're prepared for the journey ahead, of course!"

"I… I do want to win," Bryony said, her face warm. "I want to return to District Eleven. Winning and bringing home all those resources would change people's lives. I want to help my community."

"And you truly believe that's something you can do?"

"Yes," she answered. "I do."

(She had to. She had to believe in herself and that everything would be okay because everything always turned out okay and there was always a silver lining somewhere and everything would be okay, she would be okay, she just couldn't think too much about the Games looming closer and closer and closer-)

"Excellent!" Elton said. "And do you have anyone accompanying you into the arena to assist with that goal?"

"I do," Bryony said, relieved by the change in subject. "I have three allies."

"And they are?"

"My district partner, Patrek, and both tributes from District Twelve, Mendi and Tiernan," she answered.

"That's a very interesting group!" Elton said. "How did you all meet?"

"I met Patrek on the train and Mendi and Tiernan before the Tribute Parade," she said. "I think that, together, we make a very good team."

"How so?"

"I think we each have… different skills," Bryony said. "We all come from different backgrounds. But we're also resourceful. Our districts can be difficult places to live at times, and we've all learned ways to manage, as well as how to take care of ourselves. So I think that by putting our heads together, we can get farther than we would apart."

"What a lovely sentiment," Elton said. "What type of skills do you contribute?"

"Well I, um, I think I work best with groups," Bryony said. "I'm okay with using a sickle and I know how to patch up cuts, and I'm not the worst cook. I- I'm good at taking care of people."

Elton nodded. "Like the children back in District Eleven."

"Just like that," she agreed. "And if nothing else… I hope I can keep their spirits up. I know the arena won't be easy, but if I can be there for someone and help them make it one more day… that's worth it to me."

Elton put his hand on his chest again. "That's beautiful, Bryony," he said. "Before you go, let me wish you the best of luck tomorrow."

"Thank you," she said, forcing herself to smile again.

(As she stood to leave and the audience began to applaud, her smile became harder to hold in place.)

(Each moment brought her closer. And closer-)

(-everything would be okay, it had to be-)

(-and closer.)

Patrek Torres, 15

District 11, He/Him

8:35 PM

As Patrek stepped onto the stage and looked out at the audience, he was consumed by thoughts of home. He knew his family wasn't seated in the rows in front of him- no, those were all Capitolites, with their lavish costumes and off-putting body modifications- but they could see him nonetheless.

(They didn't have a television at home, not with all the medical costs of the last several years, so they'd probably all gone to the town square to watch on the big screens there.)

(His mother would be standing with her arms crossed and her back straight. She'd be fighting to keep the exhaustion from her face, but at this point, was likely failing. She probably would've forgotten to brush her hair again, as she sometimes did when life got too busy.)

(Wren would be tapping her foot and otherwise having a hard time staying still, as she did when she got nervous. She'd have one hand on her hip and another tugging on her curly dark brown hair. She would be glancing at the crowd around her, checking if there was anyone she knew, avoiding their eyes if there was.)

(If he was being… realistic, his father would be at home. The odds were that Patrek being Reaped would have made his father worse, not better. His dad would be laying in bed, waiting for his mother and sister to return… wondering if Patrek was doing okay, but having to wait for his wife to confirm it to know for sure… knowing that the days ahead only contained more of that uncertainty…)

(And Pome, too. He wondered if Pome missed him at the greenhouses. Patrek missed Pome more than he thought he would, alongside the steady routine and familiar surroundings. He'd always known what to expect there. But now he knew nothing, and Pome, who'd always given him good advice, didn't know either, and was forced to watch it all play out just like everyone else.)

(All four of them were closer to Patrek than they had been since he left Eleven. But they were still so far.)

(Really, of all his family members, the one he was closest to now was Lucia-)

(-bones became dust became nothing at all-)

"So, as we just heard from Bryony, you have several allies heading into the arena with you," Elton said. Patrek blinked. Despite being lost in thought, he'd managed to sit in the interviewee's chair and get himself situated. "Is that correct?"

"Yes," Patrek answered.

"And those would be… yourself, Bryony, Tiernan, and Mendi?"

"Yes."

"Do you like your alliance?"

Patrek paused to think for a moment. "They're nice."

Elton raised his eyebrows. "That's all?"

"No, I just… I don't think we'd be much without Bryony," he said. "Bryony brought us together, which was very helpful. I probably wouldn't have talked to any of the other tributes if not for her."

"So you wouldn't have allied with the tributes from Twelve, if given the choice?" Elton asked.

"That's-" Patrek hesitated. "That's not what I meant. Bryony is just really nice. It helped a lot that she was there."

"I see," Elton replied.

(Misgivings about Mendi aside, he didn't want to throw anyone from his alliance under the bus in front of everyone. He didn't want to make himself seem untrustworthy to them or to any possible sponsors, and he also didn't want to seem like he wasn't making smart choices about who he allied with. So he held his tongue.)

"How do you feel about the score you accomplished in training?" Elton asked.

"I feel okay about it," Patrek said, glad to change the subject. "I know it's difficult to score well the later your session is, so I think that could have hurt my score. But I don't think a 5 is bad."

"Fair points," Elton said. "How did you earn the score, then?"

"When I was in training, I found out that I'm pretty good with a khopesh," he answered. "And I know a lot about plants. I worked in a greenhouse back in Eleven."

"Oh, that sounds fun! What do you do in a greenhouse?" Elton asked.

"I mostly watered the plants," Patrek said. "I tried to work as much as I could to help my family."

That was when Elton started asking questions about his family. Patrek did his best to answer them. His Mentor, Grover, had advised him to be upfront with his family's illnesses to gain sympathy, and so he was. Anything he could do to get back to them, to bring his father medicine, he would do.

(He hoped that, even from across the country, they could see how hard he was trying to come home.)

Tiernan Merle, 18

District 12, He/Him

8:45 PM

Tiernan retreated from the stage and into the safety of the wings, his knees wobbly. He pressed a hand against his cheek, unsurprised to find that it was burning hot. He wasn't sure if that was from the intensity of the lights or embarrassment. Possibly both. He didn't think he'd messed up his interview, at least not too badly- from what Tiernan could tell, he'd managed to avoid offending anyone, or lying, or sounding too foolish. He'd definitely stuttered more than he would've liked, but some things couldn't be helped…

(Like himself?)

A Peacekeeper met him in the wings and brought him back through the halls to a small armored truck, the same kind that had brought him to the interviews. Sienna and Mendi were already waiting for him inside. Sienna was dressed as though ready for a business meeting of some kind, while Mendi wore a dress with a sash around her waist and ballet flats. Mendi stared at the floor, but Sienna greeted him with a warm smile.

"Good to see you, Tiernan," she said. "How did it go?"

"Uh… okay, I think," Tiernan said, taking a seat. Behind him, the Peacekeeper shut the doors to the truck. A moment later, the truck pulled away from the building and back towards the Training Center.

"Good!" Sienna said.

"How was yours?" he asked.

"Not too bad," she said. "Short, which was nice. But then again, I've already had a few in the last week, so there was less to talk about, you know? And no audience to watch his time."

"Right," Tiernan said, nodding. He'd never realized it, watching back home, but the Mentors got interviewed about their tributes, too. Sienna had told him earlier that a lot of them were pre-taped and then run during lapses in the Games.

"Glad your interview is over, Mendi?" Sienna asked.

Mendi glanced up, her dark eyes decorated with a thin layer of shimmery powder. She nodded, which made her curls- brushed and styled, for once- bounced slightly.

"Good," Sienna replied. "When we get back, take all the time you need to change. If you'd like, we can meet again tonight to go over what tomorrow will look like, since there won't be a lot of time in the morning. The best thing you can do for yourselves tonight, though, is get some rest."

"That makes sense," Tiernan mumbled. "But… um… how?"

"As best you can," she answered. "Oh, actually- Grover was telling me that he likes tea before bed to help him sleep. I could ask which kind he likes."

"That would be nice," Tiernan said.

Mendi muttered something.

"What was that?" Sienna asked.

"Chrysanthemum," she said. "Mother makes chrysanthemum tea sometimes."

Tiernan's chest tightened, thinking of his own mother's garden, of his father on his knees, tending to chrysanthemums she would never see again.

(What if he never saw them again, either?)

(What if Mendi made sure of it?)

(His parents had always been right. He should have known better than to wish for a life outside his home. Anything but home was dangerous. But Tiernan had learned that lesson too late.)

Mendi noticed the shift in his mood. "Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked.

Tiernan looked away. "I'm not."

"You are."

"I- I was just thinking." Tiernan focused his gaze on the doors, hoping they would open again.

"You look at me like that all the time."

Tiernan refused to look at her. "That's not true."

"It is."

"I'll see if we can't get some of that tea, Mendi," Sienna said, her bright tone out of place. "If not chrysanthemum, I have a friend who swears by lavender, too."

"You stare at me like I've done something wrong," Mendi whispered. Tiernan could feel those dark eyes on him, could feel his cheeks getting hot again. "Just like everyone at home."

"I don't mean to," Tiernan said.

He glanced back at Mendi again. This was a mistake. Her brown eyes had narrowed, and she'd crossed her arms. Tiernan swallowed, struggling to hold his ground under her scrutiny. She gave him a hard stare, but didn't say anything more.

"It's been a long day," Sienna interceded. "We're almost there, though. Let's end this conversation for now and see if we're still interested in discussing this later, okay?"

Tiernan nodded and returned to trying to will the truck doors open with his mind. Mendi stared at the floor again.

(He wanted out of this truck, out of the Games, out of the Capitol. In contradiction with the last eighteen years of his life, he wanted to go home.)

(Unfortunately, the only way home was with a crown on his head or in a coffin.)

and with that we are done with interviews! next time will be night before (part 1) with our dear friends invincible, chevre, jest, mendi, bastet, and jude :) time is running out :) i might do a launch might not idk. either way only a few chaps left until arena time! there'll be a poll as we get closer and i'll let you know when that goes up.

hope u guys are having a fun halloweekend and see u next time :)

rb