Prologue One: Erase me, Replace me
"I love the name of honour, more than I fear death." - Julius Caesar
Crystella Borates, Head Gamemaker
Breakfast Room 2, Presidential Mansion, Central Capitol
9:00 am, 20th March, HG 87
I've always felt a certain chill of anticipation whenever I am sought out by the President. My fellow Gamemakers always found it absurd; I did not fear during these meetings, especially after my experiences. It is that attitude that took me to the top of this deadly ladder, no matter what they may all accuse me of. The president and I are kindred spirits, we know what we want, even if it's different things.
I giggle slightly to myself, my heels clicking across the perfectly polished floors. I'm pacing, just waiting. Walking is good for me, and I can plan to the beat if I wish.
What fools they all are.
I know what they think of me, their assumptions as to how I must have acquired my prestige and position. Rumours were wrought by jealousy. Especially when attempts to make me spill my secret were met with catastrophic humiliation. I run through my progress report in my head, preparing and perfecting the almost impromptu speech. I plan and scheme in advance, as I always do. It's the Spring Equinox and the President has sprung this meeting at random, as always.
Ever since the clearout of 75, that is.
I chastise myself for thinking out of turn, such topics will only serve to distract me from my goal. I do, however, smile at one memory.
It's work as usual, and I, as the newest, the underling, am left bored and observing. There really isn't much to do with my tech once it's in action, other than monitoring the voltage levels. Plutie's looking more nervous, no, not nervous. More hopeful than usual. That would have been expected, I suppose, the Quarter Quell is down to so few tributes and the problem Victors haven't yet been dealt with. Not the ones in the arena, or the ones here in the City. He has a plan, of course he does, there's always a plan. It's practically treason not to have a motive and a prepared backup.
I notice it before the others do, the Girl on Fire with her bow. Shooting straight up, ever the thorn in our side. Shooting up at the force field, wire electrified, hitting the bullseye on the weak spot Plutie told me not to patch. I'm about to yell out, before the Peacekeepers storm the place, bullets ripping through the air. They don't seem to have as much of a hit list as much as who needs to be left alive. Almost anyone is fair game, and I get down before it's my blood on the panel. In the end, it's only me. Plutie's been led away in chains, with his core support, and there's more blood on my floor than being spilt in the arena. As my coworkers twitch on the floor, choking and dying all around me, I'm told to fix the forcefield. It's simple, and I do not question the hovercraft being shot down outside of it. I do not question the group that leaves, given direct orders to round up the mentors until the Games have ended. I won't question it later in the reruns when there's footage conveniently edited, or wiped from the drives.
The Victors are all so close to making it before my backup system reboots. It's flimsy and flawed, but it holds, and there's no resuscitation for the District Twelve charmer this time. There's no amount of kisses and resuscitation that can bring back the Girl on Fire when she drowns herself in distress. And watching the massacre and madness on screen, I know exactly who Snow is going to pick to rig this finale in favour of. It's only a matter of time before Enobaria will be performing that iconic move once again. It's a shame, I was rooting for a second Finnick win.
Realising what has happened, what nobody had known, I become determined. The peacekeepers leave me, telling me the President wishes to speak to me here. When they're gone, I let out a wolfish grin. I speak aloud.
"Well, aren't they all going to regret this?"
That particular incident has become somewhat of a running joke between him and me. Almost as much of a joke as District Thirteen being bombed back to the Dark Days. It's still there, of course, but not the worrisome threat it once was. With their nuclear arsenal disarmed, they'll destroy themselves from the inside.
Lost in thought, I barely notice his arrival but recover my wits enough to curtsy before him.
"Mister President Snow. It is, as always, an honour to meet with you."
He greets me warmly as we kiss on both cheeks.
"Come now Ms Borates, we've worked together for so long, there is no need for this."
He takes a seat, relaxes, and immediately takes a sip of tea from the cup in front of him.
Well, that was... surprisingly quick.
I'm cool, calm, collected as I always am. Secretly I'm waiting, but I still report upon my progress. He has already seen the arena designs and muttations, but always takes a special interest in the mechanics of the arena.
"Once again, sir, my team and I have been tirelessly working on protective measures. The challenges are tightly secured to prevent preemptive access and the blast radiuses of the land mines increased to prevent any escape until the true beginning of the Games."
I look at his face, he's still, barely reacting to anything. For once in my career, I begin to worry a little. Over ten years and he's never looked this blasé.
I stop my presentation, looking towards him.
"Mr President, are you quite alright-"
I squeak as I'm cut off. He slumps forward suddenly onto the table, loud enough for only I to hear.
It worked. I let out a loud laugh, not caring if the Peacekeepers outside may hear.
"I've done it!" I cackle to myself. After so many years of pandering and schemes. He's gone. The arsenic worked so flawlessly, I knew the old fool had stopped taking the antidotes.
"But I'm getting ahead of myself aren't I, Mister Colie?" I speak in a sing-song tone, about to leave. I must act as though it's business as usual since the Peacekeepers don't yet know, which is all the more fun. The Peacekeepers know that our now dead Pres likes his alone time after meetings. By the time he's discovered... I will be long gone. No one's crossed the border in years, so I'll be making history once again.
I'm almost dancing across the room. Yet, as I touch the handle to leave, I feel a slight shiver go down my spine. And then the steak knife.
"Why yes Crystella, I believe you are. Ahead of yourself and far, far out of your depth."
I collapse forward against the door, already beginning to go into convulsions.
"What... how? How did you... the tea? It was exact."
I must know. Must. Twelve years of scheming. Twelve years plight for revenge. For just long enough to send the country into political turmoil. Just long enough to spark a revolution. To do it properly this time around. A flawlessly executed foolproof plot, and yet that monster still lives. I feel the door open, and fall flat at the Peacekeepers' boots. Snow whispers something unintelligible to them both, and I am hauled to my feet. Snow stands close, and I can still smell the poison.
Noxious. Deadly. Nightlock.
"Well you see, my dear, a plan only seems foolproof to the fool that creates it. I must admit, I had hoped you were better than this. Twelve years of cooperation, and seven of your presiding over the Games. I'd have thought you knew me better by now. That you'd have learned. After all, I know your husband Heavensbee told you of my past experiences with assassination attempts."
He's circling me now, watching me as I can feel my body contorting and mangling itself in its desperate attempt at liberation from the pain. The look in his eyes, a blank pool of sadistic joy. He enjoys my suffering, he's known all along. Even when I thought everything was so well hidden.
"Oh yes, I knew about you two. I knew how much more potential you had than that treasonous schemer. And believe it or not, I noticed when your technicians found how strange the flaw in that forcefeild was. You were the backup plan, I realise that now. You were the least suspected. So you waited for your chance to strike against me but never realised I was watching. Did you? For as cunning as you are, I am twice as cautious. Even now, I live with the antidote to every poison conceivable. I confess, the nightlock was a rather poetic touch. Although I must of course thank my triple agent for her help. And now, we must go about establishing your replacement. It's so rude of you to try this so close to the Games... and such a shame you'll never see this one. I know it'll be a good show. Better than today's performance, I hope. In fact... I know, since I've already drafted your successor. Control directive to be in effect as of... immediately. Such a shame you won't live to see the press release. I'm sure Marius would have loved for you to be there. Ah well... that simply can't be helped, can it?"
He begins to walk away from me, leaving his Peacekeepers to dump me back on the floor of the Breakfast Room. The adrenaline, the fear. I never thought I'd fear after that day. When I was the last one left, I knew I had one last mission. I didn't fear my new coworkers' opinions or accusations. I didn't fear Snow because I knew I'd be the one to poison him. I had to do it, risk it all, to end him. To end all of this. For the Districts, for my husband, for the Victors, past and present. I guess it was never my fight to win.
I can feel my body failing as the fluids drain from me. My neural connections break down. He turns and smiles. It's almost kind, like the kind you'd give to an old friend at a final farewell.
"Do you know why I always picked Room Two for our meetings, Ms Borates?"
I glare up at him and his cronies, but it's taken as a 'no'.
"Well, it's because I don't care so much about replacing the carpets."
He laughs, and it's raspy, evil. Bastard.
"You people never do realise that you're easily erased, easily replaced. It's rather pathetic... how badly you fail to live up to expectations. Your successor will not do the same."
Then he's gone, like a fleeting nightmare. And as I curl in on myself one last time, I know I've failed and I reflect for the first time in years. I think about the times before I found the Rebellion, Capitol induced delirium until Plutie showed me the light.
About the meticulous planning, it took to get me this far. About how many people had to die because they were found to be connected when I thought I'd slipped under the radar.
About who could have betrayed me. Us. The Rebellion, the Victors, the people. The whole country is in jeopardy. Because someone took matters into her own hands by destroying a decade's worth of work with one bit of information. Enobaria, who had nothing to do with it the first time, but was so willing now. Marius and Atlas perhaps, my two most hated associates, always jealous, always grasping at straws. They shouldn't know... but men of power always seem to get what they want. Taaffeite and Candida, my first and most recent Victors, conspiring with the rest of them.
And then it hits me. And I'm laughing. I don't know why. It hurts, brings up half of my blood supply and the contents of my stomach. It was so obvious. So painful. The Poisoner, of course, it was. She would play off of her new name.
I cough out, still laughing, and speak one last time.
"Treacherous little minx."
AN: Welp, that was fun to write, but I suppose it'll be up to you as to whether or not it was good. Please give constructive criticism.
If the story title didn't give it away, this is an SYOT!
It's my first time publishing a story in general, and I'd love it if people could give me some tips, as I've always liked submitting characters.
Here's the form!
Name they were Reaped as:
Name they prefer to be called(if applicable):
Gender(including the one they were Reaped as, if applicable)and pronouns:
District:
Age:
Reaped or Volunteered?
Personality:
Sexuality:
Backstory:
Relationships: (include family, partners, even pets if you so choose. With how they interact and at least an outline of a personality please!)
Appearance( you may give a face claim or just a general appearance):
Opinion of the Games in general:
How do they act at the Reaping/on stage?:
Who visits them? What happens between them?:
Do they cooperate with their escorts/mentors/prep teams?:
How do they act during training? In the Private Session?
What kind of persona do they give in the Interview?:
Would they have an in Games romance? Do they have a type?:
Would they ally with others? Their DP? Any specific kinds of people?:
Would they betray anyone? Who?:
Strengths(can be anything you choose, but only four at maximum):
Weaknesses(as above, but a minimum of two):
Biggest fear:
Plan for the Games:
Optional
Outfits for the Reaping, Parade, Interview:
Token:
Any particular character development you'd like or special scenes?:
Other things I may have missed out:
I'll add more to it if required.
For personality, background and relationship sections...go wild! I love detailed and interesting tributes. However, please don't create a carbon copy of a canon character. Especially as my universe follows canon until the force field incident in Catching Fire.
Rules for participation:
No flaming/insulting anyone. Take that away from my reviews and preferably don't do that at all, it's rude. Be kind to one another.
Submitters may have up to four tributes, but only one District Pair. I may change that in the future, but for now, it stays.
Please, for the love of everything good, no 'perfect' tributes. If for some reason I need to accept them, I will find the most stupid, unrealistic way to kill them off.
You may either PM or review to submit a character, and it will basically just be first come first served, though you may reserve tributes if you so, please.
Be creative! I love seeing diversified casts, though please don't try to make them different for difference's sake. Do as you wish, with race, sexuality, even religion. I don't mind!
If later on in the story, you and another author wish to ally your tributes, that's completely fine! Just please don't all bombard me immediately.
Have fun creating!
I think that's all.
I intend to have a second prologue out within the week, with a little more world-building.
When I have tributes, just know they won't all be introduced during Reapings, I want to spice it up a bit.
Have a nice day/night!
