58th Hunger Games Victor Presentation Thread

58th Hunger Games Victor Presentation Thread Aug 31, 2011 12:32:39 GMT -5

Post by Lulu on Aug 31, 2011 12:32:39 GMT -5

The president of Panem stood on the magnificent stage in the City Circle, addressing his people as he had done numerous times before. Another of his prized Hunger Games had come to a close. As usual, they had been an enormous success; enough blood, death, and tragedy to satisfy the viewers, and also to subdue the thoughts of rebellion that the high government official knew were brewing in the minds of some of Panem's citizens.

It appeared that the the hissed threats he'd shot the Gamemakers' way had made their mark, the ones that promised nasty surprises for them if another District Twelve tribute somehow managed to swipe the crown. This year, the tributes from twelve were both dead by day two, leaving another district on the way to take the crown at last.

Lethe Turner had been particularly good at avoiding trouble. While a member of her alliance was murdered by one blow from a hellhound, she was able to flee unscathed. When two others had their toes eaten off by digitamoles, hers remained intact. And while still another suffered the nasty wrath of a latch crab, then had to burn it off, she only received minor injuries from shrapnel. It hadn't come as a particular surprise when the girl that couldn't recognize faces had won, more from success at evasion than anything else. Although, she had managed to kill two careers who were undoubtedly stronger than her, so she definitely had a fighter's spirit. Even though she'd been somewhat of an underdog tribute like many recent winners, Snow decided that she would be an acceptable victor, one that wouldn't cause unnecessary drama and possible unrest in the nation. Not like another District Twelve champion would.

He knew that Lethe was waiting just below him right now, ready for the platforms to lift her up and out into the light for the first time since she'd left the arena three days ago. The usual upholstered throne was placed in the center of the stage, ready for the victor while she watched a recap of what had been her hell for the past two and a half weeks, including the preparations. It was perpetual torture for the tribute, but the president enjoyed it very much. He wouldn't deny the sadistic delight that he took in watching each victor witness their own atrocities from afar, powerless to change the course of Games, even if they wanted to. Many of them, it seemed, wanted to indeed.

President Snow quieted the crowd and prepared to speak. "Ladies and gentleman, I'm pleased to welcome you to the victor presentation ceremony of the Fifty-eighth annual Hunger Games!" As usual, there was the deafening roar of approval that followed. "Tonight we will show a recap video of this year's Games, so be sure to stay tuned!" Like they have a choice, the president thought. The recap video was required viewing for all of Panem.

Snow went on to announce the prep team, stylist, escort, and mentor of the victor; all were received with tremendous applause. But then, the moment they were all waiting for... Snow plastered a smile across his face before speaking once more. "And now, may I present the victor of the 58th Hunger Games... Lethe Turner!"

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OOC- RPing is permitted in this thread by Capitol characters. This is the place to have your Capitol character react to viewing the recap video, if you planned on doing that. All characters from other districts can create their own threads in the districts, if they wish.

58th Hunger Games Victor Presentation Thread Aug 31, 2011 16:54:08 GMT -5

Post by Rosetta on Aug 31, 2011 16:54:08 GMT -5

Lethe Turner

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A cool mist rose up all around her, kissing her mud-soaked skin and sweeping through the stiff, brown tendrils that had once been blonde hair. Blood had dried under her fingernails, but even the reassurance that she was not still bleeding did not staunch the painful ache that stretched all down her body.

Standing there, among the mist, bare feet pressed onto dry, hard-packed earth, Lethe Turner felt naked. She felt scared. She'd returned to a place she didn't want to go back into. And now, yet again, the question was: how will she get out? Before she could allow herself to wonder, however, shapes were appearing from the mist. Shapes that slowly took the form of people...people she knew.

Anya was the first to step up, gorgeous as ever, standing tall. "You left me," she whispered and Lethe grew rigid. Gleaming on Anya's neck was her locket, her token. Lethe had only glanced what was inside of it as she scrambled to leave the place where Anya had died. She had seen a baby. At the time, a dangerous mutt staring her down a few feet away, Lethe hadn't given the picture much thought. Now, she wondered. Who was the child? A sibling? Anya? A friend? Who?

Anya slid aside to be replaced by Seah, just as attractive as Anya. As all of the figures surrounding her. In death, they were all beautiful. Lethe was the ugly duckling here. Seah scrutinized her for a moment, before declaring sarcastically, cold fury behind his words, "Look, the Victor!"

Whispers swelled around her, whispers that all held the same tone: anger, pure anger. It chilled her skin, sweeping down to her bones. She didn't want to see more, wanted it all to go away, but Saskia came next. Once sightless, Saskia's eyes found only Lethe. "Why didn't you save me?" she asked, softly, drawing out the last word as long as possible until it became a hiss. Lethe wanted to cry out, I couldn't! I'm sorry! I couldn't! but, her voice was trapped in her throat.

The other tributes closed around her and finally, Razor strode up to her, his strong shoulders back, head high. His venom spat out at her, "How could you do this to us?"

That's when she found her voice. She cried out, "I know who you are! I can recognize you! Saskia! Anya!...Seah..." her voice wore out, suddenly, seizing in her throat as the names sprang to her lips. "Razor..." Laughter only met her words and she felt her stomach churn.

"You know who we are," Razor spoke again, a taunt heavy in his voice, "but, do you know who you are?"

Her retort was ready in her throat. "I am-" She stopped short unable to finish the sentence. Her mind was blank as she frantically searched it. Who was she?! She stumbled backward, the laughter hitting her like a wall. Eyes wide, fingernails clawing, Lethe's mind raced. Who was she?! Suddenly, she was plunged into blackness, her last scream echoing through the air.

Who was she?

[/i]

Lethe Turner awoke in a cold sweat, her mouth wide, her throat choking out the remnants of the scream that woke her up. Her scream. But, she wasn't among mist. She wasn't back in that dreadful place. She was lying in her bed, in the Capitol, the warm rays on sunlight on her face, Camalia licking her bare shoulder. She was only dreaming that recurring dream she'd been subject to since that operation...

Lethe slid out of bed, her bare toes meeting the plush carpet gratefully. She'd taken to sleeping in her underwear, knowing she'd only become too hot from thrashing about in her pajamas at night. Gliding into the bathroom, Lethe turned her eyes away from mirror as she'd grown accustomed to. She didn't want to see with her one good eye the awful, unfamiliar image staring back.

It wasn't until she was standing in the shower, letting the warm water rain down on her, did she realize that today was the day she'd watch the video of the Games. It had been one day since the operation. That's all the time they'd allowed her to pull herself together. One day before she was forced back on television. Her time was up. Time to act like she was grateful to be alive, proud to be a Victor. Time to act calm and collected, not falling apart inside. Not like she was afraid of herself. No, now was the time to lie and act like she had it worked out, when really she didn't.

When she'd come out of the Arena, she spent time in bed, half conscious. She was slowly being weaned onto more and more food after it had come right back up the first time. And she was brought in and out for operations. The first operation had smoothed her skin, hiding the scars, all of them. For the most part, even her cheeks looked relatively smoother. The second operation made it so her ribs couldn't be counted through her shirt. A third gave her an eye. The empty socket had been filled with a glass eye, an exact replica of her other one, that looked real, moved with the other one and didn't have to be removed. She just couldn't see out of it, which wasn't too bad as she adjusted to living with one eye.

In the two days following her time in the Arena, Mel, her stylist, sailed in and out, promising Lethe she'd be fixed up and pretty in no time. But, Lethe didn't care if she remained skinny, eyeless and hideous all her life. She had one operation on her mind, only one. Fear kept it from leaving her mouth, fear they'd merely stare blankly back if she asked. However, she knew she was running out of time the second day when an unfamiliar woman glided in, declaring the prep team was ready to see her by tomorrow morning.

"Um," Lethe murmured, staring at the woman before her. She was unsure of exactly who she was. She suspected her stylist, Mel, her only visitor other than Avoxes, but she could never be too careful. "I have a question..." The woman turned and cocked her head to the side.

"Yes, dear?"

"So, I, um, have this problem..." Camalia, in Lethe's hands, gave her a reassuring lick. When she first had come out of the Arena, into the hovercraft, they'd tried to take the lizard away. However, she'd held fast, insisting Camalia remain her and Mel agreed. And so, Camalia became hers. They had provided Camalia with special food-live bugs, but that was alright. She even had her own cage, but Lethe never put Camalia inside. The lizard remained usually on her pillow or shoulder. "See, I can't-"

"Recognize faces?" the woman asked, breathlessly, looking almost excitedly at Lethe. Lethe's jaw dropped.

"How do you know?" she sputtered and the woman smiled, sheepishly.

"Everyone heard your confession to, erm, Candace, your lizard, there."

"Camalia."

"Yes, her," the woman sighed. She leaned into Lethe. "So, it's true? You can't recognize faces from day to day?"

"Yes," Lethe answered, dazed. She vaguely remembered telling it all to Camalia. But, she knew when she did it had only been for herself, not all of Panem. Only herself. And now everyone knew. Her heart was slowly sinking. "I can't even recognize you," she added, softly.

"I'm Mel, darling," Mel said, helpfully. She patted Lethe's shoulder. "I promise to remind you every day, okay?" She spoke in light tones, as if she were merely commenting on the weather. She would never understand.

Lethe reasoned in her head Mel's new information, before asking, "What does everyone think of it?" She didn't realize she was whispering until she was finished speaking. Mel didn't speak for a moment. Her eyes darted about the room, thoughts obviously running through her mind. Finally, she shrugged.

"That it's tragic," she whispered, as well. "The doctors are discussing if they can fix the problem...they think they can. They just aren't sure if it should be done."

"Oh, Mel!" Lethe suddenly exclaimed, frightening the woman who jumped. "Please talk to them! If they could fix me... I-I, I would love that! I want them to!" Mel straightened, staring at Lethe as if she'd never seen anything like her.

"I'll see what can be done," she promised. She bent down and kissed Lethe briefly on the forehead. "Either way, darling, able to recognize faces or not, you're a lovely girl."

"Thank you," Lethe murmured, distracted with the gorgeous prospect that she may be fixed. Mel looked as though she wanted to say more, but she kept her mouth shut, turned on her heel and went from the room. It wasn't until that night that Mel returned, two Capitol doctors in tow. Lethe was stroking Camalia's scaly back when they appeared. She glanced up, heart racing. "It can be done?" she breathed and Mel nodded slowly. Lethe shrieked in delight, causing the doctors to look alarmed.

"No, it's alright. She's excited," Mel reassured them. She approached Lethe and knelt at her bed. "Are you sure about this, Lethe? The operation still has its flaws. It may not work. Are you sure?"

Lethe didn't even need to think. She had never even thought that there might even be an option to fix her mind. She thought she just had to live with it, but now...she nodded, surely. "Of course," she said, firmly, "I want to do this." Mel replied with a nod and gave her hand a squeeze. Mel stood and backed away from the bed. The Capitol doctors helped Lethe into a gurney and began wheeling her away.

Her head was reeling with excitement. Finally! Finally it was going to happen. She was going to be fixed! With that hope in her mind, Lethe let them prick her arm and slid joyfully into unconsciousness...

The Victor didn't go down to breakfast. She had it brought up to her room, calling an Avox. "Just don't tell them," she meant Mel and the prep team, "I'm awake, please. Not yet." The Avox gave no sign that he'd heard, because he wasn't allowed, but Lethe knew he understood. She needed a little while before she faced them all.

Some eggs and toast arrived ten minutes later and after she'd dismissed the Avox, Lethe nibbled on the toast. She was still in her pajamas, but she wasn't going to change anyway. The prep team was going to dress her in some garish outfit later, so there was no point in changing now. She only kept her radish earrings on, her district token. It hurt to take them out. She had an infection around the hole in her earlobe. She had ointment for it, but it was just easy to keep the earrings in and not touch them.

Camalia nudged her hand and so Lethe gave her the rest of the toast. Overjoyed, the lizard munched away, huge black eyes focused only on her food. Lethe stood and paced, just waiting for them to come in and force her to get ready. But, five...ten...twenty minutes passed...Lethe grew anxious, wringing her hands. To busy herself, she grabbed a hand brush and began working it through her hair. However, she stumbled across a particularly stubborn knot and after a few minutes of wrestling with it, Lethe gave up, frustration welling up all over her. She didn't mean to throw the brush that hard. But she did. It hit the mirror at the other end of the room.

The mirror shattered.

Amid her shock, a piece of glass managed to skid across the floor towards her. She made the mistake of looking down into the shard.

She screamed.

Almost instantly, the door banged up and people flooded in. There was much confusion as they flocked around the screaming, sobbing girl. Mel figured it out first, hollering out as she gathered Lethe in her arms, "Oh dear, the poor girl saw herself in the mirror. Oh, Lethe, darling, it'll be alright." But, Lethe couldn't stop shrieking, her heart racing, tears pouring down her cheeks.

The others in the room muttered to one another. "Saw herself in the mirror..."

"Operation, it was..."

"Scared of herself."

Scared of herself. It was the truth. Everyone knew it ever since the operation. Lethe couldn't stand herself, she was downright afraid of herself...

When she'd woken up from the operation, it was the next morning. No one was in the room, her room. She was alone, except for Camalia, snoozing on her pillow next to her. Lethe's head was throbbing and she had a bandage over her forehead where they had operated to avoid shaving her head. They promised her before the operation that the wound would fade into smooth skin in a few hours.

Lethe wearily glanced around, and saw a picture lying on the nightstand. She picked it up and examined it. Almost instantly, names flooded to her. That was her mom, the woman standing next to-and that was her father! And there were all her siblings. She could name them all. She could recognize them!

Excitement shot through Lethe's veins. She knew she would jump for joy had her head not hurt her so. Adrenaline was building up in her body. She could recognize them! She had been fixed! A smile spread across her face, a pleasant happy feeling rising in her stomach. She grabbed Camalia and raised the now awake lizard to her face, grinning broadly. "I'm fixed Camalia," she squealed to the lizard, who licked her in reply. "I'm fixed! I'm fixed!"

Overcome with laughter, Lethe threw aside the covers and got out of bed. Getting up gave her a slight head rush, but Lethe hardly noticed the brief dizziness. She was giggling, grinning, arms splayed out around her, Camalia on her shoulder. She was fixed! She was normal! She was just like everyone else.

Leaving Camalia on her pillow, Lethe glided into the bathroom, content on showering before she went to greet the prep team and Mel. Anticipation was spreading over her. She simply couldn't wait to walk right up to Mel and call her by her name, declare she is Mel, her stylist. She knows, she recognizes her!

Lethe didn't look at the mirror before she shower. She slid past and into the shower, speeding right through, pressing buttons so a sheet of warm water descended down on her. Then, she pushed another button to dry herself. Steam filled the bathroom, settling over her now dry skin and coating the mirror. Lethe strode up to the mirror and used her hand to wipe away the moisture so she may see herself.

That’s when she screamed.

She stumbled backwards, glancing over her shoulder expecting to see the blonde girl in the mirror behind her. But, there was no one. Breathing heavily, Lethe's eyes slid, anxiously, back to the mirror.

The girl in the mirror was back. Perhaps the girl she was seeing in the mirror was invisible? No, that was absurd because Lethe couldn't even see herself in the mirror. Was she invisible? That was just as absurd. Was she dreaming? Lethe pinched her leg, and it hurt. She was awake.

The girl in the mirror was thin and frail-looking. She looked as though she might break if someone were to merely touch her. Her eyes were wide and green, her nose like a cat's. Her hair reached down to her ribcage and was blonde and a bit unhealthy looking. But, most haunting were the shadows of scars, faded white lines, on her cheeks. Lethe gasped. Who was this girl? What had happened to her? Lethe reached up and touched her own face and to her horror, the girl in the mirror mimicked her. She screamed again and the girl screamed back. Lethe now fell backward, screaming her lungs out, her hand raking down her face in realization, horrible, horrible realization: that girl, that awful, terrible scarred girl was her. That girl was Lethe Turner. The girl was the monster known as the Victor.

She couldn't recognize herself.

It took them a little bit to realize what was going on when they reached the girl, crumpled on the bathroom floor, crying. But, when they did, whispers flew around her.

“Can’t recognize herself.”

“The doctors will be in trouble.”

“This isn’t good.”

Then, they left, trying to figure out what exactly to do. Lethe was left alone. She had cried herself out of tears, so she merely sniffled now. Camalia had found her way into the bathroom and was licking the tears off of Lethe’s face, eyes full of concern. Whenever Lethe tried to get up, she caught sight of that blonde girl in the mirror and broke down again.

So, that’s who she was? A frail wonder with scars on her cheeks? That was the girl who killed two boys? Two huge boys who she knew could wring her neck in a second? That was girl who rose above everyone, all the other tributes and made it? That was her? That was the monster?

She was a monster, wasn’t she?

Lethe hadn’t so directly wrestled with the fact of what she had done. She’d only allowed herself one thought: that she made it out of the Arena. She hadn’t thought about how she’d killed two people. Killed them. Ended their lives. They tell you to treat people the way you want to be treated, the golden rule, but Lethe had broken that. Because of her, they’d never go home to their families. Perhaps they had siblings who stared at their empty beds every night, wondering, wondering if it could’ve been different. Maybe their parents were crying, knowing they’ll never be happy again, that their child was dead and wasn’t coming home. Because of her actions, Lethe was going home. She didn’t deserve it though. Why did those kids have to die so she could go back to her fenced in home? It just wasn’t fair!

But, alas, life isn’t fair.

The monster stood, eyes cast away from the mirror and stalked from the room. The murderer, the undeserving Victor lay down on her bed, staring the ceiling in despair until Mel came in and told her she was allowed one day to pull herself together and then she’d have to go the Games ceremony. One day. That’s all the monster had.

One day later, the people crowded around the Victor were alarmed and horrified to find her mentally in the exact same place they had left her in. They knew Victors to be unruly, mad, upset, but that didn’t mean they enjoyed it. Even Mel’s patience had wore thin. “Lethe,” she said, sternly, when an Avox had cleared up the glass and the prep team had gotten Lethe onto her feet, “I will no longer tolerate this behavior. Pull yourself together now!” Like she was a child and Mel was her mother, Lethe stopped crying at once. Looking only slightly satisfied, Mel went on, “Now, leave that lizard and come with us. We have to get you ready. And stop that sniffling!”

Kissing Camalia on the top of the head, Lethe put her in her cage, giving her an apologetic look. She followed the prep team and Mel into another room, under the stage, she presumed. There, making sure to cover all mirrors, the prep team flocked around her, cutting her nails, cleaning her bloody face and applying a huge load of cover up. They curled her hair down her back and dressed her in a long, emerald green dress. Lethe allowed them to do, limp like a rag doll, not caring how she looked. “Looking lovely,” Mel sighed. She didn’t kiss or hug Lethe. In fact, disappointment hung heavily in her words.

Mel helped her up onto a platform that would soon rise and hurried off with the prep team to be announced. Lethe heard the president speaking above her, announcing various people. Then, he uttered the words she had once prayed for, but now dreaded the most, "And now, may I present the victor of the 58th Hunger Games... Lethe Turner!" The platform rose and for one sickening moment, Lethe thought she might be going back in the Arena, but then the world opened to a stage bathed in bright light. She blinked, confused for a moment, thunderous applause hitting her hard. She quickly recovered, wiping that dazed look off of her face and strode, as confidently as she could, to the president. The events before they were to watch the video of the Games passed in a blur. Lethe knew she had a crown placed on her head. It felt heavy and gave her a headache. Then, she was being lead to a throne and the lights were going low.

Her heart sank.

Now, she had to watch the Games. Now, she’d have to face herself, yet again. Her heart was pounding as the video started. Lethe watched as Razor, Saskia, Anya and Seah appeared. She knew everyone’s names, except the one little blonde girl who teamed up with Anya, and then eventually Saskia and Razor. The video told the story of the little girl who everyone underestimated. The small, 18 year-old who couldn’t recognize faces. The one viewers would pity, but count out. The video told the story of the frail, blonde girl who overcame the struggles of the Arena, befriended a lizard and managed to take down two huge boys.

The only story it didn’t tell was the one lurking inside of Lethe.

It didn’t tell the story of the girl who tried to change it, tried to be fixed. It didn’t tell of the girl who now couldn’t recognize herself, now was afraid of herself, now couldn’t even face her reflection.

It didn’t tell the story of the girl who didn’t even know who she was anymore.[/color][/size][/blockquote]