Lucent Saccharyn

Head Gamemaker

Office of the President, Capitol

May 26, 402 AEDD

The banana yellow taffeta of Lucent's gown swished against her legs as she strode past the President's new secretary. The Head Gamemaker needed no one's permission to visit her oldest and dearest confidante, especially when discussing matters relating to the Hunger Games. The secretary scampered after Lucent to open the office door for her. "Here you go, ma'am." Lucent smiled at her.

"Thanks, but there's no need. I managed just fine before Gil decided to take on a secretary. I don't believe we've met yet."

"Spuria Bacchus. Pleasure to meet you, Miss Saccharyn."

"Oh! You're the girlfriend. I've heard about you." The name had crept into conversations about ten months ago in stories of a coffee shop meet-cute with one of the new escorts, followed by phone calls and dinner dates. The three-person friend group had discussed the love interest, her merits and demerits, and Gil decided she'd passed muster, but hadn't gotten around to making an introduction. Spuria seemed nice, Lucent decided, and thought that perhaps her response had been overly cold.

"He talks about me?" Spuria asked, somewhat hopefully.

"All the time." It was true, Gil did seem awfully into her, but Lucent knew how things had worked out with the last one. He'd been hesitant to date, hadn't so much as looked too long at another girl since that romantic cataclysm, and Lucent and Jessiah worried about this new relationship.

She would deal with it later. She entered the expansive office. Gauzy white curtains fluttered at the ends of curtain rods, and light poured in from the large plate glass windows. The room was outfitted in polished walnut, with built-in shelves and paneling, an imposing desk, and matching furnishings scattered around the room. Lucent perched on the edge of the desk, calling across to the sitting area, where Gilbert Mikhail sat on a jade green chesterfield. "Lovely time of year, isn't it?" He caught the facetious tone, decided that she was in a sympathetic mood, and opted to complain.

"Menelaus Wilkes and his pet Senate are so far up my ass that I'm coughing up arrest bonuses on penalty of losing the traditionalist bloc. They're pushing through crackdown bills, and every time I veto, I'm risking civil war." Lucent took in his gaunt frame. He hadn't sported eye bags this dark since final placement exams, when they were still in school together. The Presidency was wearing him down. She cut across the rug and settled down on the sofa next to him.

"If Wilkes has a problem with Jessiah's Peacekeeping, he ought to try saying it to his face. He'd set him straight."

"Well, that's why he's throwing it into my territory. I'm the weak link. It clicked for you and Jess." Lucent chose to dodge this because, while true, it was a sore spot for Gil. One that didn't need any more poking—he criticized himself too much already, and she wasn't about to add to that. Instead, she changed the subject to what she'd originally come to discuss.

"The Hunger Games are almost here again. That should shut him up, at least until autumn."

"You're here about the Reapings?"

"Who should we send in this year?" Lucent, in general, did not favor the lottery system. If there were chronic troublemakers, teenagers who'd committed such serious crimes that execution or worse was in the cards, she was happy to rig the selection. It was born less out of a desire to punish wrongdoers and more from the general theory that if she could justify condemning someone specific to save an innocent child's life, she might as well do it. Panem wasn't getting any more humane with Menelaus as the Senate Potentate, and well, Lucent was the Head Gamemaker, not the Head Mourner. There would be death either way. Lucent's first attempt at rigging had backfired during her first year in charge, when she tried to send in the vicious, bullying son of a District Six drug mogul. One of his victims volunteered for him, then won the Games. Quinten Aramdale was a popular Victor, if only because people felt sorry for him, but he'd won a Quarter Quell, and that was enough to immortalize him in Panemian history. Then along came Ria Sounder, a friendly girl from District Four who beat the odds in the 401st and broke the Careers' losing streak.

But there was more to be done. "Oh, I'm not sure," said Gil. "Haven't had time to think about it, actually. Considering all the other junk."

"Yeah, I haven't had time either. Too busy with the arena. Speaking of which—" Lucent plopped a sheaf of files onto his lap "—I think you'll find it…vivid."

Gil looked at the file folder miserably. "Lucent, whatever you think is fine is fine. You're obviously much better at this than I am."

"I'm not showing you because I want your approval. If I waited for the rubber-stamping, I wouldn't get anywhere. I'm showing you because I think you'll like it."

He took a look at the first schematic. "Oh, this is good. This is—"

"This is only the beginning. Take another look." He turned the page and smiled.

"I knew you'd do something like this."

"I do love playing God."

"Those poor kids. You'll be snuffing out a lot of rebels with this one. They'll see these Games and make the connection."

"I hope so. I do try to lighten the load for you."

"I appreciate it."

"We can't keep doing this forever, though. We need to get Griffin Cadbury rolling with that funding grant from the Senate."

"You think Menelaus is going to authorize it?"

"He will if I make him."

"You can't make him," Gil argued, but Lucent was already scooping up her papers and gliding out of the room.

"This was very productive!" she called over her shoulder. And it had been, but she couldn't stay and chitchat. She had a lot more work to do. She made a decision when Quinten killed that District One girl in the finale, and she was still following through. That promise was going to be kept, but first, she needed one more Victor to see her plans through.

It was going to be an exciting year.

Hey y'all,

Merry Christmas, yeah? I don't really celebrate, but the timing is snazzy. If you're among the Christmas lovers of the world, consider this my gift to you. I have a writing schedule for Reprisal and I'm on track to finish soon! As such, I'm opening up tribute submissions for this new SYOT. Subs close 23 February at midnight EST. The companion blog to this story, opulence402 . weebly . com (remove the spaces) will be updated with more information tomorrow since I'm updating Reprisal today and have a whopping twelve POVs to write. Tribute form is on my profile—reach out if you have any questions!
—LC :)