The Hunger Games: The First Quarter Quell [BEING STARTED OVER]



  • Its been great so far. I hope my charcters wont die soon. I mean, i know at least (you know who), but i guess i will have to settle.


    Ah shit yeah son. It's always nice to hear someone's coming back. What have you thought of the story thus far?

  • I'm still here! In fact, I voted a few days back but I haven't commented. Loving the story and I'm sorry for my inactivity.

  • edited June 2017 last few months were crazy. I totally forgot about this. Will read and vote.

    EDIT: Oh, I already did. And voted too.

    @mr.quality @janitor @supersagig @UkilledKenny @AAA_Jane @xSensus @WildlingKing @LiquidChicagoTed @TheLier @TWD_stan Chapter 5: Only a

  • I am here again! Sorry for not voting and reading for so long. I had to do exams and to learn I had to remove myself from the internet so that I wouldnt be distracted. Is the voting still open? If you dont require my vote, I will just vote next time when the new part is finished.

    Hey guys I don't want to go on until there are more votes. @janitor @TheLier @TWD_stan

  • Yeah the vote's probably closed. I'm halfway in the middle of the next chapter. Anyway, great to see you back!

    janitor posted: »

    I am here again! Sorry for not voting and reading for so long. I had to do exams and to learn I had to remove myself from the internet so th

  • edited July 2017

    Hey guys, sorry for the inactivity, but I've been busy lately, and after the last chapter I've been having sever writer's block. Never fear though, the next part should be up relatively soon. Also, I'm making an announcement. I am having the first book of this series printed (not published) and if anyone would like, I can mail you a copy. If you would like one, PM me your details, I'll worry about the cost. I've figured it's the least I can do after all of you have stuck around with me for so long.

    Here's the new cover.

    Image and video hosting by TinyPic

  • @mr.quality @janitor @supersagig @UkilledKenny @AAA_Jane @xSensus @WildlingKing @LiquidChicagoTed @TheLier @TWD_stan

    Hey guys, sorry it took so long. I feel like I've put it off longer than I should have, but I'm going to try to get back into the swing of things. I'll try to get a chapter out at least every three days.

    60% of readers chose to [B. Pay the ransom.]

    "I think you're right, Kirt. It would be too big a risk. We have to wait and see what this man wants before we strike back." Kirt nodded his agreement in an instant, but Theo burst in interruption. "But we will strike back. No one can know our identities who doesn't need to."

    So that was it. Theo and Kirt stayed there for the better part of the hour, formulating plans for how best to tackle the situation when it arose. They would need money and lots of it if they were to pay any sort of ransom. Kirt had generously offered to pay the sum in full, provided the Gamemaking Department paid him enough for it. Theo had refused. It was Schrodinger they wanted, and it was Schrodinger who would take the fall.

    But there would be no fall, Theo was determined. They were too late in the game to quit so suddenly. Theo had spent the better part of his life in preparation for this year, and he wouldn't tuck tail and hide at the first sign of danger. The Owl was as dangerous to itself as it was to its enemies. Theo knew it. Kirt knew it. Rhetora knew it. And whether or not she admitted it, Lynona did too. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a voice whispered, Jomal knows it too.

    "What are we going to do?" Kirt asked, more to himself than to Theo. His head was in his hands, and his worry was on his face. "Someone knows who we are. All of us. If somehow it slips... to even one ear that belongs to Snow, then that's it. God... All I can think about right now are my kid's faces. I don't suppose there's any way we can get them out of the Capitol? You smuggled your agents out, surely you can do the same with my family."

    "No, I'm sorry." Theo's concern was genuine, but his words were the truth. "It would be too much of a risk. I never smuggled anyone. Everyone left the Capitol of their own free will, and told customs they simply wished to move to the Districts. They aren't near as strict with people leaving as with people coming in, you see? But if your family were to decide to leave, and without you... well, they say President Snow can smell deceit. No, Kirt. As much as I hate to say it, the safest place for you and your family right now is right where they are."

    The words sunk in, and the pain was scarred across his face. "Damn it. You're right."

    "You knew what you signed up for," he said, loosening the joint of his leg. It had truly been aching today. "We bear this so a hundred thousand don't have to."

    "You take yourself a one man army, Theo?" Kirt was laughing, but the dizzying lamp light shone off the beginnings of tears in his eyes. "I knew you were an arrogant son of a bitch, but that's a little much." Theo smiled. "We can't go after him anyway. You've got to be on TV."

    Oh, shit. Theo had all but forgotten in the commotion. Roman had asked him earlier if he could take a place beside him on Goodnight, Golden City tonight. It was a detestable show, and Theo often found himself changing the channel to avoid it, but he had accepted. It would be different on the other side of the screen.

    "I almost forgot," Theo admitted. "What time is it?"

    "Um... Eight. It's fine, the show starts at ten."

    "I'm supposed to report at eight thirty to prepare." Theo checked his watch and saw that Kirt was correct. Damn it... Damn Jomal and damn the ransom and damn it all for happening right now. "I'm going to be late."

    Kirt jumped up from the table, quick as a feather. "I can call you a cab."

    Theo was already pulling his cloak off the hanger and draping it around his shoulders. His monocle fell off his cheek and Kirt came over to retrieve it so Theo wouldn't have to bend his bad leg. "Thanks," he replied. "For the monocle and the cab."

    "Don't worry about it." And suddenly, strangely, Kirt embraced him. His arms fell tight around his shoulders, and he held them there for a time. Theo wasn't sure what to do with his hands, but the moment broke soon enough. There were tears in Kirt's eyes for true now; the pattern of one glistened on his cheek. "You're a good man, Theo. If there were one person in the whole world I feel I can put my absolute trust in, it would be you."

    During the cab ride, those last words sat in the seat next to him, looming over his shoulders. It made him feel absurdly guilty, his trust. How could anyone trust in Theo? He wasn't even sure of himself. Even now, one man threatened to topple two decades worth of work and preparation, and Theo's hands were quaking. If any of them were hurt, Kirt's wife and two daughters, it would be on Theo's head, and Kirt gave him his trust.

    When Theo had recruited Kirt, it had been at an early Gamemaking program several years ago. It was before Theo even made the board, yet Kirt had been there for two years prior. As the trainees were shuffled in line and placed in rows of chairs, Theo oldest among them, Kirt had stood idly at the back of the room, almost like a sentinel to the process. President Snow himself had come and delivered a speech, followed by the previous Head of Gamemaking Department, Durmir Flocks and his assistant Roman Walsh. Theo had seen it a dozen times, and could repeat it all word for word, so he was watching the others.

    After those horrendously long and predictable speeches, there was a video orientation. It portrayed many previous arenas and all their flaws and boons. More blood was spilled on that screen than Theo cared to see in a lifetime, yet he watched every second of it, taking it in. Theo made a vow that as soon as he could, he would put it to an end. Kirt wasn't watching the program. His eyes were on a wallet, and several photos he had pulled from it. When Theo saw his eyes dart from the pictures of his children to the ones being violently killed on the video, he saw an ally in him. There could never had been a man better for the job.

    Theo had met Kirt's wife and children more than a handful of times. He was a social man and would often invite him over for supper. Though the meals were not always excellent, it was refreshing to watch Jeni cook, and to see Kirt smiling affectionately at his wife. His two sweet young daughters, Harly and Etta, were ten and seven. When they smiled, the whole Capitol could feel their warmth. Harly would always come up to Theo with a new drawing of a deer or a horse, with a big grin full of white teeth. When she sung, Etta's voice was so enchanting, Theo was certain she would be more famous than the president one day. Spending days with Kirt's family always gave him a sense of relieving pride, one he hadn't felt since his daughter... This is what I'm fighting to protect, Theo would say when Harly would bring him another drawing. This is why I'm still here.

    Those same little girls' lives were now in his hands. With Jomal's threats, it could all end on the morrow.

    The cab ride was long and silent. The portly driver saw that Theo was concentrating, and all he asked was destination. Theo was grateful for the polite gesture; not many cab drivers had that skill. At the present moment, it would only take a wrong word to set him off. With the weight of the ransom on his back, Theo had no thought to spare for anything else.

    Theo wondered if the cab driver felt the same about the Games as he did. It was fair to assume he didn't. After all, who didn't love a good show? He was old, but not so old he would remember much of the time before the Dark Days except destruction and chaos. He had surely been raised in a society drunk on media and on its own power. It was likely this man along with the greater population, come next week, would gather up his close friends and family, sit around their television with popcorn and drinks to watch the nation-wide event. He would laugh when the tributes made their jests, he would gasp when the shy kid receives a superb rating, he would cry when his favorite is killed. He might even place bets on it. How could this man, no different than any other, truly realize that it was a grand folly?

    The man parked, collected his pay, and let Theo out onto the street. The walk was a river, all cameras and flashes and the reflections off glossy skin and clothing. No one recognized him, the lowly cripple just trying to make his way through the crowd. The paparazzi followed the Head Gamemaker Roman Walsh and the star-studded television host Rondo Prollins. They had no eyes for anyone else. He was glad for it. His mahogany cane might not have been such an effective wave-parting tool had people a chance to notice it.

    A woman with hair separated into two forward spikes prattled on to a man with full-facial glasses about a rumor they heard of the boy from Three. They said he had a tongue as silver as the dress he wore. That made Theo doubtful. No one outside the Capitol ever wore silver. It was a sign of class, and even the highest official in the wealthiest District could never afford it. Another couple of children, locked at the arms, were wading their way through the crowd to the front, trying to get a glimpse beyond.

    "Do you think Gamemaker Quarring will be here tonight?" one asked through lips as bright yellow as a sunflower. "I heard his teeth are made of solid gold!"

    "Quarring?" the other asked, shaking her head. "I wish, but no. They're bringing the new one on tonight, the fossil."

    She threw back her head and laughed. "I heard he is as five times as old as every other Gamemaker on the panel! His eyes are so bad he's practically blind! And he's a cripple too."

    "Why would they ever hire someone like him?" The girl asked, sneering. "Probably's so senile, he can't do his job without crashing the arena."

    Theo wasn't that old...

    He shrugged it off and stepped further forward until he finally touched the rope with his cane. Letting his knee brace loosen a bit, he ducked under out onto the walk and breathed a breath of relative fresh air. There, ahead of him was Roman, accompanied by four people dressed in elaborate gray gowns he had yet to meet. They were Gamemakers too, and gray was their color.

    Roman's grays were tight and form-fitting. He wore them well, as he wore everything well. "Theo!" he pronounced when his eyes met him on the carpet. Theo could barely make out a word he said over the chatter. "How is fame treating you, my friend?"

    "It could be better. It's killing my knee."

    "Well, if you had arrived at the facility an hour ago, you could have caught a ride in the limousine." Roman shook his head with well-meaning disappointment. "We were waiting for you, Theo! What kept you? And where are your clothes? They didn't get caught in the mail, did they?"

    Theo was suddenly aware of the pictures being taken of him. After, he tried to make sure every face he made was presentable for cameras, but it proved too much and he let the pretense go. He was sure he looked embarrassing enough without his grays. "I was running late. I had to see to a few things with Kirt."

    "Kirt?" Roman searched his memory. "Ah, yes, Kirt, the one with the lovely wife. I hadn't realized you'd already made friends in the business. He was there when I recovered in the hospital, wasn't he?"

    "He was."

    "Ah, a good man. A solid man." Roman smiled. "You can depend on him." Theo nodded, but he guessed something about his face didn't sit right with Roman. "Relax, Theo, chin up! We're on everybody's minds tonight! Tonight, they'll sit with their children and look up to us, a cripple and a dwarf! Who would have thought?"

    He agreed. "Things are looking up."

    Roman started down the carpet toward the auditorium where the broadcast would be held, the four other Gamemakers following behind his lead. None of them said a word, almost like minions. It was eerie, their silence, but when Theo turned his head, he couldn't see them, so he put them out of his mind.

    "Gamemaker Walsh!" A man shouted over the commotion, dangling a microphone over the rope. A camera hung over his shoulder. "I'm with the press! If I may ask, what kind of arena will we be seeing this year?"

    Roman lazily strolled over to the microphone, as if this were all a game. Well, Theo thought, I suppose it is. "I can't reveal the surprise now, sir, that would rob the Games of their story! Just, prepare to be astonished."

    The press man gave an excited look for having received a comment and whipped back quickly into the crowd. Roman gave a chuckle. Theo knew, this is what the man lived for, to watch other people crowd around him. This man is the Hawk, Theo thought, remembering the words he shared that day at the coffee shop. He had talked about how the Games were going to be his grand masterpiece. Perhaps, every comment to the press was a brush on the canvas.

    Right now, Jomal is out there, planning his next move. Even now, with hundreds of people surrounding him on every side, the thought loomed in the closet of his mind. How could he focus on anything when he knew that one wrong step could mean the end of everything? And Sonyah Cassidy was deep in the heart of the Brig, not knowing that her long-lost husband was coming for her. If only he had gone, he could have stopped this before it started, uprooted the weed before it spread. The night show was nowhere near as important as that.

    Roman jerked him back to the present. "And so begins another year. I can almost smell it, can't you?"

    "Smell what?"

    "The smell of fortune. Right now, it's floating through the air, from all these people. Whether good or ill, everyone's lives are resting on the outcome of this coming week, at least for the short term." Roman's waddling had started to attract more flashes from the crowd. "How does it feel to know that you're a part of it? It's rather humbling, I think."

    Theo could have laughed. Roman was many things but humble. "Says the man who thinks his work is a masterpiece fit for gods."

    Roman's roar steamed in the night air, and the flashes caught its reflection. "You crooked bastard," he smiled. "This is fun. This is the game. We're the players."

    "I thought the tributes were the players."

    "Oh they are too. Make no mistake, everyone in Panem plays the Hunger Games, whether or not they like it. And today, it begins."

    They strode through the giant set of double doors, flanked by grinning doormen in flashing golden robes. When the chatter from the crowd died down, everything else went with it. The world slowed down and Theo could see everything. He took the first step into the corridor, his shoe clacking against the tile floor. The lights were less frequent, but they were brighter, coring holes through his eyes into his brain. Half an hour from now, Rondo Prollins would say his famous line, "It's time to say goodnight, Golden City!" and then it would be real. When it came down to it, Theo wasn't sure if he was ready, despite the lifetime he had built toward this day. But there was no more time to waste.

    "Goddamn, relax a bit Theo, you look like you've seen a ghost," Roman said in his laid back tone. "Another year, another Games, right?"

    End of Chapter 5

  • Oh, hell yes! This is as unexpected as it is amazing. I will take one for sure. Expect my contact details via PM later today :)

    On another note, this cover looks sweet! I guess it shows Marten, right? Truly a great cover for the book, kudos to the artist!

    Hey guys, sorry for the inactivity, but I've been busy lately, and after the last chapter I've been having sever writer's block. Never fear

  • It is Marten. Figured it would be good if each character was on the cover of one of the books. My sister is actually the artist.

    Oh, hell yes! This is as unexpected as it is amazing. I will take one for sure. Expect my contact details via PM later today On another

  • Hm, I cannot help but to feel slightly uneasy about Kirt. Sure, the fact that he cares for his family does make him a good ally to Theo, but at the same time, it makes him vulnerable. Even if Roman never finds out about his involvement, Kirt does not strike me as someone who is particularly hardened and cold-blooded. If he thinks his family is in danger, he might make a rash move, perhaps even going as far as to betray Theo in the understandable, yet foolish desire to regain Snow's favour. I never thought of it in that way, but maybe he is the weak link I fear. He's certainly less of an idealist than Theo and this makes him quite risky.

    @mr.quality @janitor @supersagig @UkilledKenny @AAA_Jane @xSensus @WildlingKing @LiquidChicagoTed @TheLier @TWD_stan Hey guys, sorry it t

  • edited July 2017

    True, but I don't know if anyone is as much an idealist as Theo. I mean in that way, each of them is the weak link in a way. Kirt's got his family. Lynona's not sure of herself and is related to Snow. Rhetora is no longer in the Gamemaking Department, and Crispin is... well Crispin is Crispin.

    Hm, I cannot help but to feel slightly uneasy about Kirt. Sure, the fact that he cares for his family does make him a good ally to Theo, but

  • You don't even know how excited I was once I saw that you posted on this thread. And ah, I agree with everything Liquid said - especially about Kirt. He has so much to lose which makes him vulnerable. I fear he will betray Theo if his family's life is at stake :/

    @mr.quality @janitor @supersagig @UkilledKenny @AAA_Jane @xSensus @WildlingKing @LiquidChicagoTed @TheLier @TWD_stan Hey guys, sorry it t

  • edited July 2017

    Damn, she sure can draw! Expect my contacts details too :P

    It is Marten. Figured it would be good if each character was on the cover of one of the books. My sister is actually the artist.

  • Yeah, sorry, I'm coming back pretty soon here. I actually got inspiration for another story and have been slamming that one out. (It's not a fanfiction and I'm actually going to publish it) But I haven't forgotten about this and I won't forget about it. It may just take a little bit in between parts. That being said, I think I have left it a little too long and I'm sorry, but I'm coming back.

    TWD_stan posted: »

    You still there @TeamKennyW00t ?

  • @mr.quality @janitor @supersagig @UkilledKenny @AAA_Jane @xSensus @WildlingKing @LiquidChicagoTed @TheLier @TWD_stan

    Hoo boy, so that was a long three days. Sorry guys. I guess I just have to face the fact that I'm a hopeless procrastinator. That being said I did push it off too long and I am sorry. But it's here now and I'm gonna try to be better.

    Also, if you go back and read the trailer for book 2 there were a few excerpts from this chapter, but I've altered them to fit continuity a bit more.

    Chapter 6: Goodnight, Golden City

    Theoram Warrik

    There were thousands watching, but only a dozen behind the camera. The room was small and compact, yet just wide enough to fit an entire studio, two couches with enough space for six, and at the end, an iconic armchair that was almost as recognizable as the man who sat it. It was ornate, with red and yellow flowers woven into the fabric--not patterns of flowers, real ones. It was just after 9:30, half an hour from air time, and Rondo Prollins was nowhere to be found.

    "What could be taking him?" was the question on every tongue. The big cameraman with an obvious combover was the loudest, the reporter woman in the corner in the men's button-up the shyest, but Roman looked most concerned. His fingers were shaking, and Theo had known him long enough to know he was calm most of the time.

    Theo took the spot beside him on the couch, the cushions sinking lower with the weight. "Careful, Roman, if you shake any more, you're gonna drop that glass."

    The red wine was swirling inside the glass in Roman's hands, threatening to spill. "I'm a punctual man. I guess I forgot some aren't so similar."

    "Just relax," Theo soothed him. "Even if it does fall through, it's not the end of the world. It's not like the Gamemaker interview is incredibly important."

    Roman chuckled, his voice shaking. "Theo, I love you, but you know very little about this process. You're still new here. Every part of the process plays an equal roll in the end game. Not everyone may watch this interview tonight, but it is the preamble, the introduction to the Hunger Games. And this is a very important Hunger Games."

    "Yes, I know, it's the 'Quarter Quell,'" Theo replied, "doesn't the whole nation already know that?"

    "The Districts do. But many of our Capitol citizens don't watch the Reaping ceremonies, they just wait for the reviews. And that's where we come in, my friend."

    Everra spotted the two of them on the couch together and came over, but her eyes were only on Roman. "How are you boys?" she asked, sitting on the arm of the couch.

    "Could be better, Everra," Roman replied, still a shaking mess. "If Mr. Prollins picks today to stand up to his superiors and resign in a blaze of glory, I may actually have a heart attack."

    "Hey, why do you think they gave us wine?" Though not quite impaired, she had clearly had too much of it. "Chin up, it'll all be fine. We're the damn Gamemaking Department, we can carry a show on our own shoulders if we have to."

    But, that was not the case. In the last ten minutes, when everyone's nerves were pumping sixty miles an hour, the double doors opened and he stepped through, Rondo Prollins, the TV host, the celebrity. He was well groomed as usual, with so many layers of makeup on his face he might have been wearing a mask. As soon as he strode into the room, he announced, "It's showtime, ladies and gentlemen," had a woman run a comb through his coif a few dozen times, and did a voice warm-up in the mirror. Theo was watching him intently the whole time, and not once did he ever so much as glance at the guests he had chosen to bring on his interview. He wondered if Roman saw this too, and if it made his hands shake.

    Thirty seconds to on-air, and Rondo Prollins finally took his seat in the flowery armchair, long after the Gamemakers had taken their places. He straightened his rainbow-colored tie, looked directly at the camera and spread wide a huge grin full of gleaming white teeth. How did the Capitol not see all this was fake? The director, an angry man with a flat chest, put up his fingers and counted from five down to zero. And the eyes were open.

    "Good Night, Golden City, and goodbye to another excellent day!" Rondo Prollins announced gladly into the microphone and the camera on the other side of the TV set.

    Across from him was a monitor displaying the faces of each of that night's glorious interviewees. Roman, Everra and several other Gamemakers sat beside the ecstatic television host. Seated at the end was the only man who did not sport an enthusiastic grin. Theo glared straight into the camera, knowing that behind it was millions of viewers from all around Panem. Every eye was on Theo, and every mind belonged to The Owl.

    "It's that time of the year again, folks, and I'm sure you've all been beyond enthusiastic. The Twenty-Fifth Annual Hunger Games is just around the corner, and I'm sitting here with some of the Panem's best and brightest who are working to make this event possible. Surely, I don't have to introduce you to our Head Gamemaker, Roman Walsh." He directed attention to the middle of the second couch  where Roman was sinking awkwardly into the cushions. "His name speaks for itself."

    "Thank you, Rondo, it's a pleasure to be here." Roman had a microphone in his hand, a short, round thing that looked like a ring, and when he spoke into it, it gave the appearance he was scratching his beard. They hadn't given out these microphones to the rest of them. Were they just on display?

    Rondo gestured between the brigade of Gamemakers and his eyes lingered on Theo for a bit longer than they ought have. He introduced each of them individually to the camera, sharing a short blurb about each. Theo did not know, nor care of the three Gamemakers on Everra's left, but as always Roman had already started to steal all the spotlight. Theo didn't mind. At least for him, less screen time was superior. Roman felt otherwise, as was made evident when he began soaking attention like a sponge.

    "And this is Theoram Warrik, newest member of the panel of Gamemakers," Rondo exclaimed, looking at a blank space between the camera and Theo. "My, you are quite late to the party, huh? You may be our oldest panel member yet!"

    The tip of Theo's mouth curved upward and he caressed the handle of his mahogany cane. "I do all right..."

    Rondo gave a laugh-a very forced laugh, and his eyes were on the camera again. He didn't care about any of this. He didn't care about the Hunger Games, and Theo doubted the man even cared about his role in the public eye. Theo saw a man who was more concerned with how he looked in a mirror than who he was. It was disgusting. But Theo just had to sit and smile, and answer his questions.

    "The Quarter Quell..." Rondo Prollins let the words sit on his tongue, trying them out. "So, Gamemaker Walsh, what exactly does that phrase entail? Is it not just fitting to call it the Twenty-Fifth Annual?"

    Roman shook his finger. "Oh, no. There is a reason; in fact, there are many. As I am sure you've already seen, if anyone has watched the Reaping ceremonies, a special rule has been placed upon the Districts this year."

    "And for those who haven't had the privilege? What would this rule be?" Rondo asked through his grin.

    While the host was a man who cared not about what he spoke, Roman was fully absorbed in the subject. When you listened to him, you could hear the passion radiating from every sentence. It would be an inspiration if his passion wasn't the unified slaughter of children.

    "Everyone knows the concept of the Reaping, I am sure. Twenty-four candidates are chosen, a male and female from each District, and they are chosen from a lottery: a bowl full of names, full of chance. This year, I gave them a choice. This year, all the names were turned face-up. So when the Districts sent us their tributes, they were sending us their strongest, smartest, worthiest competitors."

    "And I'm sure this isn't all you've got in store?" Rondo waited expectantly.

    The bastard wanted more. No matter how messed up it was, Roman had been working on this all his life, and this arrogant man was acting as if it was not enough. He looked as though he was shot in the chest, but he hid it well. "Yes, there is more, but you, just like everyone else, will just have to wait and see for yourself."

    "Oh, come on, give us a little tease." Rondo pressed in closer.

    After a moment, Roman gave Theo a nod and said, "Well, for starters, the setting will be a jungle."

    "A jungle." Rondo repeated, looking disappointed. "Hm... Not exactly revolutionary, but a classic nonetheless."

    Roman was smiling now. "Yes... A classic..."

    "I can vouch on this one," Everra chimed in, leaning toward's Roman's ring mic. Her stage face was not so over the top. "I was part of the crew who scouted the terrain for the dome. I was part of the building process, and I can say without a doubt, this will be a Games to remember." After she was finished, her eyes went to Roman.

    "Well, I guess we'll all be waiting eager, won't we?" He lifted a hand to his hair to smooth it back across his brow and turned his attention back to the audience. The show went on for thirteen minutes(Theo was watching the clock intently). All the conversation was between Roman and the host, with an occasional joke from Everra to lighten the tone. After a long time, it was evident that the two men were butting heads, trying to prove something to an audience of invisible Capitol citizens, but neither could figure out quite what they wanted to convey.

    "Now, unfortunately, our usual segment has been cancelled, the footage from the Reaping Ceremonies. Of course, this is because, in most cases, the ceremonies never took place. It's a shame. They were always my favorite part of the pre-Games rituals."

    A silence passed over them, and Roman was the most frustrated out of all of them. This wasn't going well for him, Theo could tell. After waiting for Everra, or one of the other three Gamemakers to begin, Theo sat up and leaned on his mahogany cane. "It will be a mystery then, even more so than other years. During the Chariots, each tribute's entrance is supposed to be grand and triumphant. What could be grander than learning who these kids are little by little?"

    "Well spoken..." He said, and then trailed off, almost as if he had forgotten Theo's name. He quickly checked a paper and resumed the conversation. "So, Gamemaker Warrik," Rondo Prollins spoke. He was finally engaging with Theo on a more personal note. He saw there was depth behind those stone cold brown eyes and for once, he actually wished to hear the answer to his own question. "Do you have anything to say to the people of Panem? What do you have to offer?"

    "What can I say, Rondo? I like to think I've got a lot to offer. I'm an optimist." Theo raised an eyebrow in a vain attempt at what he hoped was charisma. He didn't mind if people hated his television persona. He wasn't here to seduce Panem, he was here to save it.

    The television host along with Roman, Everra and the handful of Gamemakers stifled a laugh. "Anything more specific?" He asked.

  • Ah, welcome back, welcome back :)

    So, the arena this year is a jungle, huh? That means trees, which is at least something good. Doubt people from District 1 know much about trees, but I know Aura does, so that is a benefit, if a teeny tiny one. That being said, I am absolutely certain the gamemakers have something huge planned for the first quarter quell, it is definitely not going to be a normal jungle. Who knows what their sick minds come up with, but I just know, Roman will bring his A game for this and as afraid as I am, I can't deny that I am at least slightly fascinated to find out.

    As for the choice, I chose to say something inspirational. Roman already seems a bit annoyed that this is not the grandiose show he wants it to be, so being cryptic, I don't think that can help. By being inspirational, Theo will leave an impression on the people of Panem and I think that is a good thing. Roman will also be happy and as long as Theo can't make a direct move to take him out of the game, nominally staying his supporter can only help him with remaining unnoticed with his own plans.

    @mr.quality @janitor @supersagig @UkilledKenny @AAA_Jane @xSensus @WildlingKing @LiquidChicagoTed @TheLier @TWD_stan Hoo boy, so that was

  • By what their sick minds come up with, do you mean what my sick mind comes up with? Lol

    And yeah. I felt that bit about the jungle is a nice callback to the very first choice. Just in case you guys thought choice doesn't matter :P

    Ah, welcome back, welcome back So, the arena this year is a jungle, huh? That means trees, which is at least something good. Doubt peopl

  • Hey guys, I've decided, to try and kickstart more of a following for this story, I'm going to be starting it over from the beginning, here's the link over there. It shouldn't be too long before it's up to date again.

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