ALL CAPS Episode Two: Day One [BB and Day 1.5]

The days were passing quickly and Astrid and Turing had learned to move around each other again. A hurricane and the eye. A poet and the philosopher. Their tender dance chaste and cautious. Like two people meeting again for the first time. But how can you truly do that with someone who has seen every inch of you? Who has traced every scar and birthmark? Who has drawn constellations on your skin and seen you torn wide open? You can’t. But damn it if they were not going to try. The internal struggle was painted across Astrid’s face with every interaction. She was saved by the fact that Turing would rarely meet her eyes. He was always so internalized, and that suited Astrid just fine for now. He did not need to see the longing in her eyes or the way she sat with bated breath. She cherished his distractions and prayed for the chatter of the office to overwhelm the beating of her heart.

(Please let the stars dance,

Let the lights burn,

the shadows fall

across your skin,)

Astrid straightened her blouse - the thin white material flowing delicate in the air of the ALL CAPS studio. Her notes were primed and ready and a tea was cooling next to her right hand. She longed to reach out and fix Turing’s tie - it was skewed slightly to the left, which no one would see as they were radio commentators, but nevertheless, the urge to be closer to him pulled her in and she clenched her fist to will the very thought away.

(on red lips and long fingers,

and a mouth made to deceive,

hips… swinging to a little jazz)

Xena was watching again - the success of their Reaping Recap had gone unpraised, but Astrid knew with the slick quirk of her lips after the microphones had ceased their recording that they had pleased her. How well remained to be seen. Turing was perched on the edge of his seat, his headphones around his neck. Scribbling. Scribbling endlessly to write and re-write what he wanted to say. Ink staining the tips of fingers. Astrid found herself smiling at his form, the wonder in her eyes as his very being. But no, those thoughts would not do right before a show.

(And eyes,

Burned in my skin,

Your touch

left by the scent of smoke,

It lingers.)

Once more the cue was given and Astrid pulled her headphones on, grasping the metal microphone from in front of her to bring it closer to her with a slight clear of her throat. It was go time. The ears of the Capitol would be listening to them, hanging on their every word, drinking them in as they fell from her lips. She loved the power she was able to wield. It was almost as intoxicating as ten drinks on the rocks. Like a cigarette after a passionate night. Like the wind in your hair.

Ten

Nine

Eight

Seven

Six

Five

Four

Three

Two

One

Inhale. Exhale. You got this.

“Hey there, Capitolites! I am Astrid Dèmander here with Turing Ayres for a very special Day One Edition of ALL CAPS. We are in full swing of the Seventy-Eighth Annual Hunger Games and you all might need a bit of a refresher on everything that happened on Day One, so we are here to provide that for you." She smiles, the laughter in her voice at the sheer joy and adrenaline coursing through her veins. She lived for this. This moment with all ears on her. And even with Turing by her side. Especially with him by her side.

"I think our Gamemakers have really outdone themselves this time with the Arena - the tributes for these Games were transported to a wintry, alpine resort with a giant peak erupting into the sky under twin moons - Khonsu and Artemis. These tributes will have to traverse over, under, and through hot springs, a snowflower meadow, trees bent from the strength of the polar winds, and even cross over the bones of a ski resort long since forgotten. The Cornucopia stands in the middle of a snow field - a decrepit building that they must fight tooth and nail to get to in order to survive in the subzero temperatures that can chill you to your bones overnight.

The wealth stands, tempting as always, but we have seen many a tribute grab only a weapon and a knapsack before fleeing the Bloodbath. Sometimes not even that.  Whomever stays long enough to get that wealth...well, they’re going to make things very difficult for the other tributes in terms of equipment and survival.

Hypothermia is no doubt going to be a concern with this Arena, with fire being so, so important, don’t you think, Turing?

We saw four tributes lose their life during this Bloodbath, but I think the most surprising was the blow right out of the gates by Gillian Imberline on the female tribute from District Nine, Apollo Salon. Gillian was able to time her strike at just the right moment and with enough force to knock Apollo into the snow, ending any chance of the girl getting up again. Gillian is what, Turing? Twelve years old?

Both of our young tributes, actually, left their mark on Panem early on in the Bloodbath. Vesper Daisy from District Six, using spiked crampons, which are traditionally used as climbing implements strapped to the feet, cracked Amelina Fournie’s skull, ending the life of a promising Career. The Games have always kept us on our toes, and this year has been no different.

Care to shed some more light on the Bloodbath for our listeners, Turing?”

She exhaled, running thin fingers through her hair. They had started off well, and Astrid hoped for more interplay with Turing this episode. They had always played so well off of each other off the air. On the air, they could be an unstoppable duo, bringing the Capitol to a standstill with their voices. Together they could stand on top of the world, move the sun, tilt it off of its axis.