Leon Kimura, 30

Head Gamemaker, he/him

There are few things that truly daunt Leon Kimura.

He's on top of the world right now, after all. The 123rd Hunger Games was a massive success in his eyes. This is the kind of shit he's been working towards for years, and to see it all finally play out right in front of him?

It's breathtaking.

Some might think that the degree of his success should shake him a little, make him sweat. Reyna certainly seems to think so, based on the way she flits around him day after day. But during the stretches of time where Leon goes days without sleeping, too wrapped up in the intricacies of planning to risk resting, she does her best to stay up with him. Most of the time, he hates having someone hovering right over his shoulder, watching his every move, but Reyna's been around long enough that she's the only person he tolerates doing it.

Well, her and Lemon. Though Lemon can't exactly do much hovering from where the hamster is on the floor.

"When's the last time you slept?" Reyna asks from her desk across the room.

Leon blinks, having nearly forgotten that she was in the room at all. He tilts his head to the side, contemplates her question, and very quickly deduces that he can't come up with a satisfactory answer. "Your guess is as good as mine."

She sighs but ultimately doesn't seem surprised. "Right, of course. But you'll at least sleep before the Games, right?"

"Doubtful!" he cheers, spinning around in his chair. "There's so much more I still have to look at. I've only done preliminary research on all the kids, the Arena's gonna need some tweaks, and… oh, I'm certain there's more, but I think I lost my notes somewhere."

Reyna glances around the room, taking in the fact that his entire office area has turned into a disaster zone. "I wonder why."

"I really couldn't say," Leon says, tapping a pen against his chin. "But! That's not important right now. I could just make new notes. I'll run across the old ones at some point."

"That's the exact same thing you said yesterday."

"Huh. Ah, no matter. I still need to watch the reapings again."

Reyna looks mildly bemused as she sinks into a chair across from him. "You've known the outcome for over a week."

He snickers and starts booting up his computer. "Ah, only some of them! You know there's always at least a couple volunteers."

"Well, there's usually at least six," Reyna points out, pressing her lips into a thin line. "But you get a heads up on those."

Leon winces as he clicks through his scores of open tabs, trying to recall where he left the recording of the reapings. "Usually. Though this year there was a bit of… an incident."

"The One boy," Reyna says, dutifully beginning a new page of notes. "He's not even eighteen yet."

"Nor is he a trainee. No one's quite sure how it happened, but the real volunteer's name came out of the bowl - Rhydian Magnusson." Leon pauses and sighs wistfully. "I had so many good notes on him…"

"He's the one that would've been a strong follow-up to last year, right?"

Leon nods excitedly. This is why Reyna is his main assistant, after all. She always manages to remember most of the shit that comes out of his mouth, even when Leon himself has already forgotten. "Great leadership potential, top of his group of trainees… One could've had it all again. But instead…" He winces, gesturing to the screen. "Well, see for yourself."

As the escort calls out the name Rhydian Magnusson, there's a brief ripple across the crowd. It's highly unusual for the name of the chosen volunteer to be called, but everyone understands the unspoken protocol regardless. There's an opening, one where someone could take the spot into their own hands, but to do so would more than likely ruin your relationship with the entire District. Mentors have turned on their tributes before under circumstances like that. But despite the odds, a hand shoots up in the crowd and a boy named Callum Cadogan steps up to take the place of Rhydian Magnusson.

"What's his deal?" Reyna asks, eyes trained on the younger boy. "If he's not trained, then why's he doing this?"

"According to the goodbyes recording, they were pretty close," Leon says slowly. "Ripped Rhydian's dream away. I'm not quite sure what all it means."

"Maybe he thinks he was helping?"

"Pretty fucked up way to help. Whatever the case, he'd best be ready for whatever the Capitol has to throw at him."

"Language." Reyna hums quietly as she scrawls down a few notes. "It can't be too hard to improvise something for him."

Leon pouts, tapping his fingers on the desk. "No, but a challenge is more fun." He sighs wistfully. "I miss last year."

Beside him, Reyna visibly cringes. "Right," she says slowly. "Um, what about his District Partner?"

"Saccharine Esculenta," he rattles off, staring up at the ceiling. "Late to the training scene but made every moment count. Crawled her way up from the bottom of the rankings. There are rumors about underhanded methods being utilized, but when is that not the case in One?"

"Any reasoning behind why she wasn't in training earlier?"

Leon's eyes light up, and he frantically clicks through his open tabs again. "Nectarine Esculenta, her older sister. Was set up to take the role of chosen volunteer for the 119th Games, but uh… well, she's currently deceased, so that didn't exactly work out."

Raising an eyebrow, Reyna leans closer, squinting at the information on the screen. "Estelle's Games," she notes. "Think that could be an issue?"

"Hopefully!" Leon says perhaps a bit too excitedly. "Those Games are a bit, uh, controversial depending on who you ask, and I can only imagine Saccharine has her own opinion on it."

"Controversial?"

"Oh, you know." Leon waves a hand through the air. "Accusations of nepotism, rigging, the whole nine yards. Doesn't help that Nectarine here seems to have died under 'mysterious circumstances,' whatever that means."

"Nothing good, most likely," Reyna says carefully.

On the screen, Saccharine gracefully takes the stage, her figure small and unassuming compared to Callum. She smiles politely, giving the crowd a slight wave. If Leon hadn't read through her file, he might've fallen for her act as well. But instead, he silently hopes that most of her allies aren't perceptive enough to figure out everything she has up her sleeve. Not even Leon himself can be sure what exactly she'll bring to the table, but based on the rumors so far, she's not quite as innocent as she wants people to think.

"What about placements for them?" Reyna asks, ready to mark down whatever he says.

Leon hums, tapping his chin. "Maybe… fifth for the girl, let her fly under the radar a bit more. If she wants to show her hand during private sessions, that's her choice. I'll aid her in any way I can as long as she can promise a good show."

"And Callum?"

"Stick him in twelfth for now. A move like that doesn't deserve much acclaim. He's seventeen and without training in a District that has every reason to turn on him. If he has something to show at private sessions to prove otherwise, he'll make it known."

The screen automatically moves on to the Twos, and Leon straightens in his chair. He's heard a lot about the lingering chaos from last year – turns out killing a religious figure can sort of fuck things up for a lot of people – but both of the tributes this year seem to be more than capable in their own right.

"Pantheon Lexicus," Leon whispers, watching as an incredibly tall boy volunteers triumphantly before shaking the hand of anyone he can reach on his way to the stage. "Brute forced his way through the Fortuna Equestris. Likely didn't want there to be any doubt in his mind that he was the right option. Incredibly talented at all things combat. His dedication and eagerness is almost unmatched, and while he appears to very much be an extrovert, he's had his fair share of issues within his training group."

"What kind of issues?"

"Oh, you know," Leon waves a hand, "the usual. Accused a girl of murder. Things like that."

"Paranoid?" Reyna glances over at him. "Could be helpful with this Arena."

"Absolutely. Might be interesting with Saccharine as well. No one quite knows what his deal is, but as long as he can hold his own in a fight and make things interesting, I don't really give a shit."

"That's not true," Reyna says immediately. "You want to know what his deal is and you haven't been able to figure it out."

"I haven't!" Leon bemoans, leaning back in his chair. "I've got all kinds of shit on him, from his ex boyfriend to his dead parents, and I still can't figure this one out."

"Maybe he'll surprise you," Reyna says, a little more entertained by the prospect than Leon likes. "I'm sure you'll figure out something."

"Whatever," Leon mutters. "I still want him in first. Give him the ego boost. If he can't play nice with his training group, I want to see if he can play nice with his allies here."

"Sounds like you're trying to set him up for failure," Reyna comments, though she writes down his suggestion anyway.

Leon doesn't reply to that, instead perking up as another volunteer steps up, chin lifted and spine straight, the very picture of perfection. "That's Nerissa Kitharion. Big family name. I think some of the weapons we've used in the Games have come from her family at some point or another. She's also related to the first Victor – a guy named Aurwyne Kraghammer. Lots to live up to, and she's proven she's determined to make it happen for herself."

There's a brief silence, and Leon glances over to see Reyna deep in thought over something. "Are her family's weapons used for the Fortuna Equestris as well?"

Grinning, Leon flips through open tabs again. "I'm so glad you asked that, dearest Reyna. According to these records, it's always been her family that supplies weapons for that. Nerissa herself has known the ins and outs of any blade she could get her hands on since she was a kid."

"And what do you make of that?" Reyna asks, clearly already having an answer in mind.

"I think the odds of her giving a few opponents some faulty weapons is rather high. When I was reading through her history, she's always been close to the top of her class, but rigging a few things in her favor likely would've helped. Third?"

A smile tugs at Reyna's lips as she dutifully writes down the number. "You've already had an idea of these in your head, haven't you?"

At that, Leon grins. "What makes you say that?"

"Well, for one, you've intentionally left second and fourth open. For another, you know enough about these kids off the top of your head that I doubt you need whatever notes you took unless it's something tangible you need to submit to someone later. If I'm the one that writes it down now, you can't lose them again."

Leon places a dramatic hand to his chest. "You know me so well."

"Unfortunately," she replies. "What about Three?"

Visibly cringing, Leon moves on to the next District. "Not good. Neither of them look like they stand much of a chance this year."

"You could've said the same about last year," Reyna points out. "Merix made eleventh."

"He had strong allies, which I suppose I can't factor in right now, and a potentially helpful talent." Leon pauses, feeling something run into his shoe. As if the small creature had taken note of its creator's mention, Lemon sits patiently by Leon's foot, clearly expecting to be picked up. He gladly obliges, putting the robotic hamster on the table. "Hello there, Lemon!"

"Hi, Lemon," Reyna echoes. "A fair point, I suppose. Either way, you should give them a bit more credit."

"I suppose so," Leon says, frowning at the screen as the girl silently cries. "That one is Sagan Pomare. Lots of family issues. Even though she's the youngest in her family, she's the only one still at home with their mother, who can be a bit… volatile at times."

"Couldn't that be because she has to?"

"Not in this case. Based on… well, several things, it looks like her siblings keep trying to get her to go with them somewhere else, but she refuses every time. Those tears shut off during her goodbyes as she got angry at the rest of her family."

"I forgot you've probably watched those countless times as well."

"Naturally," Leon says, watching as Lemon roams aimlessly around his desk, avoiding the more cluttered areas. "There's a lot to learn in the moments where you know your life is on the line and there's nowhere else to go."

"That's almost insightful of you," Reyna says, laughing softly.

"I've been told I'm quite wise." He pauses for a moment, trying to recall what number he'd assigned Sagan last time. "Give her… twentieth?"

"You're still not very optimistic about her."

"I don't have a reason to be yet," Leon says before perking up again as the scenery swaps again. "I am, however, quite interested in the Fours."

The boy volunteers first, a bit quiet and understated. He appears nervous due to all the attention on him, something that Leon silently notes for later. "Ibai Zubizarreta. Relies more on his intellect than he does actual physical prowess, but he's still excellent with a karambit. Had a bit of a one-sided rivalry with a boy named Dacre."

Reyna glances up at him when that's all he says on the matter. "Is that it?"

"It's a little too early to tell how Four is going to do this year," Leon says slowly. "Especially after last year."

Wincing, Reyna nods. "Makes sense. It's a bit… unsettling, to say the least, especially considering Makani had Victor relations."

Leon's lips tighten imperceptibly. "I've done my calculations time and time again, and I still haven't figured out how that happened. It's almost like there's no record of what was going on at the controls during that time period."

She raises an eyebrow. "Are you thinking someone else tampered with it?"

Even Leon knows that's a dangerous question to ask aloud, and even more dangerous to answer it, so he makes a face and shakes his head. "Hard to say for sure."

It's the only conclusion that makes sense.

"So you think their confidence has been shaken," Reyna says, immediately switching topics back.

"Ibai's confidence is for sure," Leon says, flipping frantically through tabs again. When he lands on the incident report, Reyna skims it quickly before wincing. "But I suppose the more pressing issue is Bastian."

Reyna blinks a few times. "Bastian?"

"Mentoring is likely to be an issue again. Anyone can see that Bastian's motivation has… crashed, and while that's easy enough to excuse, it's not going to help either of the Four kids."

"What about the girl? Can she take care of herself?"

"Aha!" Leon pulls up the reapings again, pointing out someone in the crowd. "Thessaly Akaste. She'll be a fun one."

"You seem sure of that," Reyna mutters, clearly wary. "Is she… oh. Huh."

"Top of her class in training," Leon says giddily. "She got put in a couple years early. She was adopted by the Akaste family, and there are a few uh… rumors that her adoption was in part due to her step sister's diagnosis with muscular dystrophy the year before."

Reyna doesn't comment on that immediately, a strange look crossing her face as she watches Thessaly volunteer. The girl prances about halfway up to the stage before stopping still and glancing around wildly. She grabs the wrist of a girl in the crowd and tugs her closer, kissing her passionately.

"She's a real hit with her peers," Leon rattles off, spinning around in his chair again. "A bit of a force of chaos, so the real question is whether or not she can keep her head in the game long enough to win."

"And what do you think the answer is?"

"Genuinely?" Leon grins widely and shrugs. "I have no fucking idea."

Based on the way Reyna's shoulders slump, that wasn't the kind of answer she was looking for. "'I hate surprises,'" she mutters to herself.

"There's a difference between a good surprise and a bad surprise!"

"And how do you know this is a good surprise?"

"I don't!"

Though she doesn't deign him with a response, the defeated look on her face is enough. And, truth be told, Leon doesn't know how to express his thoughts on the matter anyway. He supposes it comes down to a healthy amount of surprise. He enjoys being able to put the tributes in carefully curated situations that would most entertain the Capitol, but if someone happens to stray from one of his several potential outcomes, he would be thrilled. But that's where he begins to worry about what kind of surprise the tributes could manage, and it all goes downhill from there. He's put a lot of work into this Arena, and he'd hate to see any of its potential go unrealized.

Leon doesn't let himself think on it for too long. He's still not quite sure how long he's gone without sleep, but he really should find a time to take a nap before the Games begin unless he wants to completely lose his mind.

(Though, to be fair, he does come up with some of his best ideas when he's running on no sleep.)

"Second and fourth," Leon eventually says. "I want to see if Pantheon recognizes Thessaly as a worthy peer or as competition. And Ibai is talented, but I'm not sure he has the ability to move up unless he demonstrates that he has what it takes to win."

"To win? Or to kill?" Reyna asks, something tight in her features.

"Don't those usually go hand in hand?"

Before she can answer, the recording moves on to District Five, which is an unusually somber affair this year. Everyone appears to be resigned, waiting for something that may or may not come.

"There was an explosion not long before the reaping," Leon whispers. "Took out a whole section of factories. Lots of damage. Lots of people out of work. Lots of people unhappy."

"Sounds like the sort of thing that could get someone rigged in," Reyna says, correctly guessing why Leon is informing her of this now.

"Akira Hinode," he says, waiting for the high pitched laughter to ring across the square. Beside him, Reyna's eyebrows raise in surprise. "Ten bombs. Seemed to have made them herself. Though she's all of sixteen, she's rather well known, but for all the wrong reasons. She's gotten involved in an uprising group, caused obvious mass destruction, and is generally not well liked for her antics."

"What are your thoughts on her?" Reyna asks, watching as the girl skips to the stage.

He grins as she whips out an object and throws it on the stage, much to the dismay of everyone around her. Instead of it causing another explosion, however, the object merely covers Akira and the escort in blue paint. "I like her."

"Of course you do," Reyna mutters.

"Calm the fuck down!" the girl cackles onscreen, eyes wild and bright. "I've left the good shit for the Arena."

"She seems to have expected it." Reyna frowns a bit, watching as the girl turns her back on the crowd and starts yelling at the mentors. "They didn't bother to cut this part."

"That's the other thing," Leon says, grinning to himself. "Madoka Hinode."

"The 121st Games," Reyna recalls. She leans back in her seat for a moment, taking in the information. "Real fighter. Manipulated her way into a couple different alliances to play it safe and then disposed of them."

Leon smiles wistfully. "She gave a thrilling show. I can only hope her sister does the same."

"Akira doesn't seem to be a big fan of her," Reyna says, wincing as she hears some of the foul words being screamed. "I'm not sensing much… sisterly love."

Snickering to himself, Leon replies, "At least Madoka won't be the only mentor with issues this year."

"How reassuring."

"I'm thinking… seventh? I can certainly find a way to give her the tools she needs to bring the right amount of chaos into the Arena."

"Why not sixth and put more of a target on her back?" Reyna frowns even as she pencils in the number he already gave her. "You know as well as I do that if she won, it would only be more of a hassle."

A hassle was an understatement, but Leon merely shrugs. He's never been too caught up in the concept of a worthy Victor. In his eyes, whoever wins wins. A few tributes might get a few extra roadblocks placed in their path, something to shake things up a little, but taking someone out of the game entirely? That's not his style.

"I have someone else in mind for sixth," is all he says. He sits up a little straighter as the next tribute is called up, the boy forcing a smile on his face as he walks onstage. "Xander Luman. His father is a rather well known doctor in the Five. Rich family, the kind that has never wanted for anything. Great in the education department, but I'm not seeing anything else that'll help him. He might be a bit of a strong personality, so any allies he finds should make for an interesting dynamic."

"Sounds like another low placement." Reyna puts her pen on the paper, ready to write him off as soon as Leon gives her the okay.

"For now, anyway," Leon says, watching as the Five tributes shake hands, Xander trying not to visibly cringe away. "Give him nineteenth."

When Six pops up on the screen, it's almost a welcome reprieve – or, at least, it is until the boy is called. The camera immediately catches sight of him, zooming in on every emotion that crosses his face, from shock and horror to devastation and sorrow. The worst part is when several children in the crowd begin screeching and calling his name, begging him not to go.

Beside him, Reyna is properly horrified. She holds her clipboard closer to her chest, frowning at the screen as if there's something she can do to make the noise stop.

"Aleksei Court," Leon says, keeping his voice low. "Nine siblings. Parents are addicts, so they're all out of the house and living on their own. It's hard to get much more information on him because of that. From what I've managed, he's lived on the streets for a good majority of his life, which might actually help him out this year. I can only imagine he has good survival skills."

"To an extent, probably," Reyna admits, tearing her eyes away from the screen. She stares at her notes, lost in thought about something.

Leon waits a moment to see if she has any additional commentary, but she doesn't open her mouth to say more. It's a little strange to see her so affected by something that he considers a natural part of the Games, but it's not like there's anything he can do about it, so there's not much of a point in trying.

"Go ahead and give him sixteenth," Leon says once the silence stretches on too long.

A small squeak alerts him to Lemon on the desk once more, and Leon leans forward to cradle the creature in his hands. He waits for a moment to see if it'll make a move to go somewhere else, but all it does is turn around three times before settling down in the palms of his hands, content to stay there for a while. It's times like these when Leon is most glad he didn't give in to his initial urge to take the robotic hamster apart to see how it works. He's become rather grateful for the tiny friend, even if it occasionally gets in his way.

Since this is a situation he's used to, Leon adjusts to the loss of his hands quickly. He shifts in his seat, slouching down so he can put his feet on the desk, and hopes that the rest of the reapings will play out uninterrupted.

"Marri Esters," he says as the next girl shows up onscreen, her face almost completely blank despite the tears marring it. "Young, works hard to help her family make ends meet. Not much to say other than the fact that her father died three days ago, so she's already grieving. Surely not in the right state of mind for the Games. If she can find herself in a group of allies that can help keep her grounded, she'd have the slightest chance, but…"

"But how's a fifteen year old supposed to cope well with her father's death when she's immediately thrust into the Hunger Games," Reyna mutters quietly. When Leon glances over, there's a sorrowful look on her face that nearly startles him. "I imagine you don't have much faith in her, either."

He shrugs. "Not particularly. Throw her down for… twenty-second?"

"Not last," she notes. "Leaving yourself room to be surprised?"

"I do try," he says, flashing her a smile. "You know I love that fine line."

"I fear every year it gets more and more blurred."

"Isn't that the fun of it?"

"I suppose," she concedes, but Leon can tell she doesn't fully agree. "Your placements always perplex me."

He's not entirely sure what she's referring to, but she's not entirely wrong. "Placements are just as strategic as everything else," he says. "Whoever is up near the top is perfectly set up for failure, and whoever scrapes along the bottom is given every reason to try and succeed. It's all a game, my dear Reyna, and I look forward to seeing who can learn how to play it."

"Some days I worry that you think about these things too much," is all she says in response.

"If I didn't, I wouldn't have gotten this position," he shoots back. Before she can say anything, Leon hears the familiar cry of a volunteer, and he grins widely. "That one's Zephyr Vitale. He's got a twin sister, and their mom is sick – no official diagnosis, but something with her lungs. Zephyr hunted down his dad, who runs a big lumber milling company, and now he works in the most dangerous sector there. Clearly athletic and nimble, and as a volunteer he's got a lot of drive as well."

"Seems as if you're pretty impressed with this one," Reyna says, quirking up an eyebrow.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Leon laughs before trying to stifle the noise as Lemon stirs in his hands. "I can only assume he's volunteering because his mom's taken a sudden turn for the worse. Dad doesn't seem interested in helping beyond his initial offer of a job."

"Sounds like a real gem," Reyna says dryly. "So? What's your verdict on this one?"

"Ninth," he responds easily, a practiced response. "Don't want to hand everything to him too easily."

"Right," she says, "because it's no fun if everything is easy."

"No one understands me like you do."

"I'm not sure anyone else wants to."

He chooses to ignore her comment, instead watching as the Eight reapings come on. A girl walks onstage with her head held high, and Leon notices once again that there's no sense of surprise in her eyes. From what he recalls, she hasn't been rigged in, but she's unsurprised by her misfortune nonetheless.

"Guinevere Solomon. Currently works as a psychic, but I don't really believe in that sort of thing so I'm going to assume she's a stellar liar. At one point was adopted by a man named Donovan Sicilienne, whose daughter, Scarlet, died in the 119th Games."

Reyna laughs in surprise. "It keeps coming back to Estelle's Games this year, huh?"

"Yes, though I believe young Scarlet was merely cut down in the bloodbath," Leon says, clicking his tongue. "I wonder if Guinevere can escape the same fate."

"You're the one in the business of making predictions here."

He grins. "Fair point. I suppose I think it's likely, as I believe I had her noted as fifteenth."

Reyna heaves a sigh, but writes down the number anyway. "I really am just taking your notes so you don't lose them again."

"Oops?"

She only appears amused though, and shakes her head. "It's not as if I expected anything else."

The next tribute to be reaped ascends the stage with a particular amount of grace, his gaze directed at someone in the crowd. There's a whirlwind of emotions behind his eyes, but the most his face demonstrates is a vague sense of defeat. "That's Svelte Rasa," Leon says, shifting in his seat again. "One of the ones I don't have many notes on. From what I can tell, he's a premiere acrobat for a circus, and… that's about it. Seems to have lived most of his life on the streets, and considering the state of Eight, there's not much more to pick up on. I'd ask Ariadne if she happens to know anything, but I have a feeling she wouldn't be interested in talking."

"I can't imagine why."

"Truly curious," he says, nodding slowly. "She's never been a big fan of mine."

"She's not a big fan of many people," Reyna acknowledges. "I wouldn't take it too personally. You weren't Head Gamemaker that year."

A wistful smile crosses his face. "Ah, but if only I was…"

"You're getting off topic," Reyna chides, pen poised above paper once more.

"Right," he says, tilting his head to the side. "Well, he's not a volunteer, but considering he's an acrobat that knows how to stay in the shadows… I don't mind taking a bit of a chance. Give him eleventh."

"There's every chance he'll know how to give you a good show."

"That's what I'm counting on."

That's all Leon is ever looking for, anyway. Whoever can offer the best show. He likes to be entertained - the Capitol likes to be entertained - and Leon intends on finding who can best give the Capitol what it wants. (Who can give him what he wants.)

"The Nines are an interesting case this year," Leon says lightly, watching as the screen changes once more. "I heard through the grapevine that a certain someone was unhappy about the state of Nine last year, so he rigged Kosa and Kodo Hotakim's names. They're the children of Teff Hotakim, Head Peacekeeper of the District."

"Why both?" Reyna asks. "Isn't that a bit much?"

"More of an insurance policy than anything else," Leon says, shrugging. "Besides, only one of them got in. Kosa got volunteered for."

"Very interesting," Reyna comments, squinting at the screen. "The girl that volunteered doesn't seem too thrilled about it."

"I'd make speculations on that, but I don't particularly care," Leon says lightly. "Doesn't matter in the long run, eh? That's Bourbon Jaque. Between her attitude and vulgar language, she's a real hit with authority figures. Not particularly well off, but her family always manages to get by. If you try to pull financial records, there's some sort of block in the system, so whatever is going on there is off the books. I don't care about that too much, but I do believe she'll at the very least be… entertaining."

"That's all you can ever hope for, huh?"

"Of course," he says, smiling to himself. "And when it comes to her and Kodo, they're an interesting match."

"Interesting how?"

"Based on their files, if they manage to tolerate each other at all it'll be a miracle. Which isn't necessarily a problem – I love drama, after all. By all accounts, Kodo's some spoiled rich brat. Seems he loves drama as well, considering he's involved in all things theater. My guess? They'll annoy the shit out of each other all pregames. It'll be thrilling."

"And not at all like the two last year actively trying to kill each other, huh?"

Leon makes a face. "Eh, they didn't do anything fun with it. Don't you think the concept of trying to kill your District Partner is a lot more entertaining when they… I don't know, bother to interact beforehand?"

Reyna gives him a befuddled look before nodding carefully. "I, uh, guess? I assume you're complaining about the missed opportunities here. That, or you just like to complain. I really do think you should try to sleep some today."

He contemplates her offer for a moment before shrugging. "I'll have to see how the rest of the day pans out."

"Sure, sure," she says, not seeming bothered at all. He figures she expected that sort of response. "What about placements?"

"Bourbon seems capable, and she's a volunteer on top of that," Leon says, thinking aloud to himself. The more numbers he rattles off, the fewer there are left to choose from. "Kodo… ah, I don't know. Tenth for Bourbon and eighteenth for Kodo."

A hum is all he gets in response, so Leon quietly hopes that he managed not to mess up the numbers. He takes a moment to squint down at the hamster in his hands, which still hasn't moved. Lemon appears to run on a schedule all its own, and Leon still hasn't managed to figure out what that schedule is exactly. But he can't bring himself to mind, either – it's the little things that bring him a certain sense of joy.

The next time he glances up at the screen, he's completely missed the Ten reapings, and with Lemon still taking up his hands, he can't go back now. But he knows there's someone interesting in Eleven - the boy who gets reaped and immediately tries to run away from the stage.

"Nolan Okorie," Leon breathes, eyes lighting up. "I want him in sixth."

Reyna raises an eyebrow when he doesn't immediately elaborate. "That high?"

"Of course," he says giddily. "Look at him. He tried to run away when his name got called, he was in prison for murder, and he fucking escaped prison. See? He's perfectly suited to handle anything that comes his way."

"Language," Reyna mutters. "And I suppose. Does this mean you're targeting him?"

Leon blinks in surprise, though he supposes he avoided answering this sort of question earlier. "Targeting? Not particularly. I'm aware that this could get him some unwanted attention, but I've never really believed in the concept of skewing the Games like that."

"But you're willing to set them up for success or failure?"

He laughs loud enough that Lemon stirs in his hands, and he reluctantly sets the hamster back on his desk. "C'mon now, Reyna, no one ever believes these Games are truly fair. If I let things slip too much, let the lines blur, bring the facade crashing down… well, no one would like that very much, would they? So I play my part, and whatever happens in the Arena is out of my hands."

Reyna frowns. "But you control the Arena mechanics," she reminds him. "And you're the one that created the damn thing."

"Language," he teases, grinning as she rolls her eyes. "And I suppose that's a fair point. If you're so torn up about it, then, how about you keep me honest?"

She huffs, trying not to look amused. "That's what I try to do every year."

"And it worked last time, didn't it?"

"Well enough, I suppose."

"Oh! Look, it's Twelve," Leon says, instantly redirecting the conversation. He manages to watch the reaping for all of five seconds before sighing to himself. "I miss last year."

"Please don't make another rock pun."

"Why?" he asks, unable to control his snickering. "Are you worried I'll crush it?"

She presses her lips into a thin line. "That wasn't even good."

"Forgive me? We all have our faults, don't we?"

"Somehow yours are always more obvious, aren't they?"

He places a dramatic hand against his chest, gasping in mock offense. "Reyna! Don't you know that words hurt? Sticks and stones…"

"I think you're misremembering the phrase."

He waves a hand. "Not important anyway. Wait- what were we talking about?"

"Twelve girl," she says patiently, nodding at the screen. "You got distracted thinking about last year and Crush."

"Right," he says, snapping his fingers. "Rocks."

"Rocks," she repeats, nodding her head. "And this is…?"

"Oh! Jasmine McCoy," he rattles off, spinning in his chair once more. "Another volunteer, so she'll be great fun. She's a toxicologist back in the District, which means she'll have a good time this year."

"You've said that about half the kids."

"And I've been right every time! I've seen that her specialty is nightlock, but I plan to throw something a little… special into the Arena, if she can figure out how to use it."

"Isn't that sort of like rigging? Playing directly into someone's strengths?"

"Not really," he says lightly. "Or, at least, I don't see it that way. It's up to them to figure out how to use the tools I give them."

"Makes sense," Reyna says, glancing down at the list she's been making. "I assume you want her in eighth?"

"Correct, my dear Reyna," he says, pulling up yet another open tab. "She's an interesting case. Got a dead friend, a botched trial, and the murderer that got off scot-free was found dead not long before the reapings. My guess? She killed him and volunteered to make sure she wouldn't get caught. At the very least, anyone who knows about poison and looks relatively strong should be a decent threat. Hopefully she'll prove me right in private sessions."

Reyna merely hums and jots down a few more notes in the margins of her paper. Leon doesn't bother to look over – whatever she has to add, he'll agree with. They've always been good about being on the same page.

Besides, he's beginning to think that some rest would do him some good right now. He's never been one to take a break, especially not so close to the Games, but he wants his head as clear as he can get it in the days to come.

And at the end of the day, nothing will stop him from taking full control as soon as the Games actually begin.

"The butterflies are out again," Reyna comments, ducking her head as one flies by.

Leon merely brightens, watching as they begin to flutter around the room. He'll have to transport them over to the Arena shortly, but he wanted to keep an eye on them for a bit. Besides, Reyna is always harping on him to add a touch of life to his office – artificially created butterflies likely weren't what she meant, but Leon thinks it's the thought that counts.

"I have them on a cycle," he says, grinning to himself. "They'll be out for a few hours."

"They're lovely," she says, her voice as sincere as he's ever heard it. "Hard to imagine what they'll be spectating in less than a week."

"They're wonderful creatures, aren't they?" He pauses to admire their colorful wings flutter through the air, bringing a deceptively lighthearted atmosphere into the room. "So delicate and fragile… much like the human spirit, I've learned."

Reyna shoots him a look that he refuses to try and decipher. "An odd transition," she says carefully. "What point are you trying to make now?"

"You know why I find the Games so fascinating," he replies easily. "They're the perfect place to explore just what humans can handle, what makes them break. And, as the overseer of it all, that puts me in a frighteningly powerful position, doesn't it?"

"You're starting to concern me."

"I'm just thinking aloud," he says, though he knows his words won't soothe her. "It's less about physical limitations and more about their own minds. That's the real monster in all of this. No matter what I throw at them, only the strongest mentally will be able to come out of this alive. Take Alila, for example. She was in the worse condition physically, but her drive to win propelled her forward. She won the moment Justus lost the fight in his mind."

Humming, Reyna levels him with a stern gaze. "And your goal is… what? To continue testing whatever kids you get, to see what they can handle?"

"New year, new batch, new tactics," he muses. "There's always more to learn, more to explore. Who am I to resist the call of knowledge?"

"You must find it irresistible."

"You could say that," he says lightly. "Whatever the case, I have high hopes for this year."

Leon lets one of the butterflies drift closer, raising a hand to allow it to rest for a moment. They've been programmed well; this one gingerly lands on his finger, wings fluttering all the while. His lips curl up into a smile.

"I think we're almost ready to go."

omg welcome to pregames little children

umm this is the part where i start cutting out a/ns if i don't have anything to say. this time i do have something to say. ur all aware that school is a thing that happens. it hasn't happened for me yet (and won't until september) but updates start slowing down from here on out. rn it's bc i have massive brainrot completely unrelated to tfm. that's my bad. but school is gonna kick my ass and i gotta fight back. sooo i'll aim to update every 2 weeks - 1 month just to stay out of jail. i'll probably drop the sunday update schedule as well you'll get a chapter when you get a chapter.

i pwommy i still love the tfm kids i'm doing all kinds of fun planning behind the scenes. (it's not fun) by the time we get to games i'll hyperfixate like i did w odwh so u just gotta bear w me until then. um... i think that's it. thank u goldie for betaing again (she does every time i just forget to say thanks)

~de laney is out