Hunger Games publicity host - Thaddeus Flickerman
I looked at my list of tribute names on my arm before calling for the next tribute, "Asiza Sekewael!"
This girl was tall and slim, with shoulder-length black hair, and tanned skin, and was dressed in a green forest gown with a laurel wreath. She had a bright smile, probably one of the brightest smiles out of all the tributes so far. She looked kind, unlike so many of the other tributes.
"Good evening, Asiza," I said, shaking her hand. She smiled widely at me.
"Good evening, Thaddeus," she said. "How are you going? I love your suit."
"Oh… thank you," I said. She wasn't supposed to give me compliments or ask how I was. That was my job. Perhaps she was just too kind. Well, it was nice, I suppose. But the audience needed to know her, not me. "So tell me, Asiza, have you got some allies in these games?"
"Yes, I've… I've actually found love," she said, blushing.
"Love!?" I repeated. Jesus Christ, how, when she was about to die? "Who is it, then?"
"Cal," she smiled. "From District Nine."
"Oh, well I will be intrigued to meet him," I said. "But tell me, how are you feeling knowing that at least one of you will be dead soon?"
"I'll be glad that my love lasted, and I'll know that despite all the terrible memories this arena gives me, at least I'll have one good one," she said, smiling sadly.
"And if you both die?"
"Well, I'm confident that I'll win, but if that does somehow happen, I'm sure we'll find each other after death and be dead happily ever after together," she said, smiling. How could a teenage girl talk about a romance that was doomed like this? It had to be fake. It had to be. But, I played along, because it would make a better show for the citizens of the Capitol. Perhaps it would even motivate them to give donations to the pair.
"Well, Asiza, I'm happy for you and your romance," I said. "I just hope the heartbreak isn't too bad for you. But, I wish you the best of luck, and we'll see you tomorrow."
"Thank you, Thaddeus," she smiled, standing up. I shook her hand again, and she made her way off the stage, waving brightly to the audience.
"Next up is Arnold Pryor!" I called out, and the next tribute walked on, a boy with short, black hair and bright green eyes, dressed in a black tuxedo. He looked very happy to be interviewed. He shook my hand and sat down in his seat all with a massive smile on his face. "What a pleasure to meet you, Arnold. So tell me, how are you feeling about your training score? I see you received a Six?"
"It was… well, it was average I suppose," said Arnold. "I feel as if the game makers were looking for someone a little more… typical. But see, the thing is, my tactic isn't the normal tactic of every other boring tribute. I'm going to win in a different way. If I'd displayed boring old violence, perhaps they'd have given me a higher score. But no, I'm just not that basic."
"I see… well, mind enlightening our audiences what your special tactic is?" I asked, and Arnold laughed.
"I can't give away all my secrets! Perhaps if the audience donates to me, sponsors me… they'll get to see my skills in action," he said, smiling.
You're going to have to do something either way or you're dead, I thought to myself, but I didn't say anything.
"Intriguing…" I said, looking out to the camera. "You'd all better donate if you want to see this boy's secret skills! Anyway, Arnold, have you found a good alliance?"
"No, I'm intending to run it solo," said Arnold.
"Ooh, well, good luck on that one! Going solo sure will be a challenge!" I said, looking at the camera comically. God, this was getting boring, and we were only just over halfway done. What was I even supposed to ask these kids?
"Well, I have confidence in myself," he said, grinning. I wanted him to last a while just so I could see what his supposed secret skills were. I was genuinely interested now.
"Well, Arnold, I can't wait to see how you go tomorrow, and I wish you the best of luck," I said, standing up to shake his hand. He smiled at me, shaking my hand then made his way off the stage. "Next up we have Gabrielle Buiton."
The next tribute, Gabrielle, had short, curly hair, pale skin, and bright brown eyes. Her dress was short and white with blue circles on it, and a blue headband in her hair. She was tall, but her face was young. She'd be fifteen at most.
"Gabrielle, it's lovely to meet you," I said, shaking her hand. She gave me a small smile as she sat down. "I love your dress… your stylists sure have done a good job."
"Well, it's not something I'd normally wear," she said. "I'm not all that big on fashion. See, it's an advantage I have over some of the other tributes, I don't care if my hair gets dirty, I'll do anything it takes to get through these games."
I don't think anyone here is going to care about getting their hair dirty in the Hunger Games, I thought to myself, but didn't mention it. "Well, what sort of clothes do you normally wear?"
"Just casual clothes," she shrugged.
"Right, well, tell me, Gabrielle, are you in an alliance?" I asked.
"Yes, I am," she said, smiling out at the audience. "I quite like my alliance. I think we have the potential to make it quite far."
"That's good! Do you guys have a specific tactic for the games?" I asked.
"Yes, you'll all have to stay tuned to see it," she said, and I nodded.
"That's very true. Well, tell me, Gabrielle, you got anyone back home watching you?" I asked her.
"Yes, I've got my parents, my brothers, and my friends," she said.
"Good, very good," I said. "It's always good to know there are people you need to go home to."
"Yes…" said Gabrielle. "I know that I will go home to them. I'm ready to fight for them tomorrow."
"That's a good attitude to have, Gabrielle," I said, and she smiled. "So… for them, I think you should go back to your room in the training centre, get a good night's rest, and be completely ready for tomorrow. It was wonderful to meet you."
"Thank you," she smiled, getting up and walking off the stage.
"Next up is… Patch Corvin."
Patch Corvin. Patch Corvin. He was the one who'd given me the morphine yesterday. He looked me directly in the eye as he walked onto the stage, dressed in a midnight blue tuxedo. A silent message to remember our deal.
"Patch!" I said, acting like I'd never seen him before. "It's great to meet you! So, is there anything you'd like to say to your potential sponsors?"
"Yes. They should sponsor me because I have the potential to win, I have skill. But I'm not completely psychotic like… like the Careers, for example," he said.
"That's a very good point!" I said. "See, you know how to wield weapons? Yes, and you have a calm demeanour, you have potential. See, everyone, get out your wallets now, because who's more likely to win than someone with skill like Patch's? Tell us more about your skills, Patch."
"During training, I perfected knife skills and hand-to-hand combat," he said. "And I came out with an eight, only because I didn't show my other skills."
"What other skills?" I asked.
"You'll have to wait and see," he said.
"Yes! Well, everyone sponsor Patch and we can see his skills! Sponsor him, don't waste your money on tributes who won't win," I said, smiling at Patch and then out at the audience. "Anyway, have you got a good alliance?"
"Yeah…" he said, and I could hear the doubt in his voice. I remembered he was allied with the Fives and Sixes, and that tone was implying that they weren't such good allies.
"Yeah…?" I prompted.
"No, they're good," he said.
"Alright, well, what are you all doing?" I cried. "Get out your wallets! Donate, donate, donate! Now!"
Patch grinned. "Thank you. I'm grateful for all your support."
"And we're grateful for you," I said. "Thank you very much for your time, Patch."
"Thank you," he said, before making his way off of the stage.
"Next we have Bulga Conroy," I said, looking out to the next tribute, the girl from Nine. She was a small, red-headed girl with a face covered in freckles and crooked teeth. She was dressed in a bright yellow dress and was struggling to walk onto the stage in her heels, which made me feel a little bit of second-hand embarrassment. "Good evening, Bulga. It's a pleasure to meet you."
She flinched when I held out my hand to shake hers. Oh, god, she wouldn't make it far if she was jumpy like that.
"Hi," she said. "It's a pleasure to be here."
"Great!" I said. "So tell me, Bulga, are you confident about your big day tomorrow? The bloodbath is always brutal."
She shrugged. "As confident as I can be. I know I may not look like much, but I am a leader. The leader of my alliance."
"Oh, yes? And who else is in your alliance?" I asked.
"Buster and Rick," she responded. "They both answer to me and to me only. I am the best leader. The best in our alliance."
"Right," I said. "Well, Bulga, why should people donate to you?"
"Because I deserve this win more than anyone else," said Bulga, looking out at the audience, her big green eyes moving, scanning them all. "I've got… a good life ahead of me. I'm currently living in an orphanage. And just think. A poor little girl such as myself, winning the Hunger Games? Imagine if you were me and you won. You'd kiss that orphanage goodbye and go off to the Victor's Village, living your best life. So please, because I'm so innocent. You have to have faith in me. I know how to survive, if you donate to me, I will win. And all your bets… you guys will be rich."
Jesus Christ, she wanted them to sponsor her out of pity, I thought to myself. How pathetic.
"Well, Bulga, thank you very much for your time," I said. "It was great speaking with you, but unfortunately your time is up."
"Thank you," she said, standing up and making her way off of the stage, her feet wobbling in her heels.
"Next we have Calvus Logg," I said, looking out at the remaining tributes, and a short boy with a mop of dirty blond hair walked onto the stage. Calvus Logg… so he was the other half of the arena romance. "Well, well, well, if it isn't our lover boy of the games!"
"Yeah, that's me," he said, chuckling a little, shaking my hand and sitting down across from me.
"So tell me, how did the two of you so suddenly fall in love?" I asked.
"Well… we became allies, and I thought she was very beautiful. And then, well… the feelings were mutual," he said. "I would do anything for Asiza. I would die for this girl. And, well, if my life is almost over, I want to make the most of it with love."
"That's beautiful," I said, faking tears. "We all do love a love story."
"Yes, and if you want to watch this love story play out," Calvus looked out at the audience, a smile on his face, "you'd better donate to me. And Asiza. Otherwise this show, the first Quarter Quell, is going to be pretty boring."
"Why would a kind gentleman like yourself be voted into the Hunger Games?" I asked.
"That beats me," he said, his expression dazed for a second. "I was shocked."
"Yes, we saw in your reaping clip, you did seem quite… surprised," I said, and he went pink, shifting in his seat. "Well, anyway Calvus, are you feeling confident that you'll get your girl to the end?"
"Please, call me Cal. And I believe that I can protect her," he said. "I'll get her through as far as I can and then I'll sacrifice myself for her."
"How noble," I said, looking out at the audience, who cheered, and Cal smiled at them. The poor boy seemed so innocent, all he wanted to do was help someone he now loved, and he was about to be thrown into the arena with a bunch of criminal outlaws, killers, and highly trained Careers. "Well, Cal, thank you very much for your time."
"It's been my pleasure," he said, standing up.
"I wish you the best of luck," I said, shaking his hand again. "May the odds be ever in your favour."