an obligatory welcome [teddy/pierre] mayor's dinner [VT]
Sept 10, 2017 10:52:56 GMT -5
Post by gamemaker ☢️ ivan korsch on Sept 10, 2017 10:52:56 GMT -5
A written condolence, my only true words on the letters is my name signed at the bottom. My first draft moulded so that it meets Capitol standards. I wanted to send the families hope but all they have gotten is a reused script. It was never going to last long, the festive atmosphere that arrived on the back of Miss Leviane’s return. Professionalism buried my own grief, her victory meant that my own daughter and nephew were left behind and this new profession forced me to celebrate in her success. One year on, I have to deal with two new caskets and a victor from another District.
I was in the crowd for the speeches of Miristioma and Rhodes, victors of the games that took my twins. Grief is just another part of me now; I may as well envelop it and use it for a good cause. My District is back in a familiar territory now, a state of mourning.
My second year of shaking the hand of a victor, before they step onto the overused stage to deliver their speech. I was weaned into the role by having the hand of an Eight to shake but now it is back to the reality of my job, Theodore Ursa, a member of a neighbouring District who has a similar track record to our own – at least he is not a career.
An invitation has already been sent out, an obligatory mayoral dinner with the victor. Council officials and District personalities will fill the table, none of whom I have picked myself. There is a higher up somewhere, pulling the strings and I have yet to meet them.
A well-tailored black tuxedo waits on my bed; its craftsmanship is beyond my own skills. I can see all the detail on every inch of the cloth, it will be only worn once; such a waste of effort. A different costume for every occasion and not one item of clothing that has been forced onto me, has found residence in my own wardrobe. Throughout the year, I have slipped ties and cufflinks into my drawers but every time I open them again, they are gone. I just hope they haven’t been incinerated, I have heard rumours about the Capitol waste.
I wrap the silver lined waistcoat around my steam pressed ivory shirt, before fiddling with the bowtie. Helping hands appear from behind me and they thankfully do not belong to a council busy body. The only person who has gotten be through this, my wife Abi Hope. A year long journey and she has been at my side throughout it all. She has shared it all and listened to every moan and rant, after a day’s work. Never was I ever going to be prepared, I knew that from the beginning; I don’t believe there will ever be a time where I find this job easy but it does not mean that I do not enjoy it. Hopefully I am doing them all proud, my wife, my children and all the people that reach out to me.
Since yesterday afternoon, a team of unfamiliar faces have come in and out of the dining hall of the Mayor’s house. Even through the night, I could hear their movement as they brought in the most obscure and unidentifiable objects to decorate the room. For a single meal, the dining room’s interior décor is now a mash up of the delights from Eight and Six. As soon as the seats have emptied, the twenty-hour long operation will be torn down.
A sigh rolls from my mouth, as I pear through the door, only a woman remains in the room, quickly hurrying around the table, squaring up the cutlery. There has never been a time in my life, where I have been unable to eat a meal because the knife and fork were not the exact distance from one and other. What a sad life the first person to create such traditions must have lived.
Guests already fill the entrance hall but I am quickly escorted to the star, before I am even given a chance to drop a hello to the familiar faces.
”Welcome to District Eight, Theodore…or do you prefer Teddy?” Earlier today, someone forced me to rehearse the greeting; I wonder how long it will be until I fall from the script. ”Well anyway, I hope you enjoy your short stay here.” Already, silver trays filled with crystal glasses of champagne are forced into our faces, I swipe two glasses from the waiter; alcohol will get me through this night. ”I am sure you have already had many glasses of these on your tour.” I hand one to Teddy, before offering a cheers.
On this one night, there are more bottles of champagne in this District than there has been for the entire year.
