the one before the campaign | mayor one-shots [80th]
Oct 30, 2018 8:33:56 GMT -5
Post by gamemaker ☢️ ivan korsch on Oct 30, 2018 8:33:56 GMT -5
”Dear Ripred, here we go again!” Not only is it another games but the run up to the next elections. How convenient of them to throw one every quell. Pierre begs that there will not be a re-run of the last quell although the election results of that one is highly preferred.
Back to the usual routine, the choice of uniform is up to him this year, the Capitol’s worries are on perfecting the festivities that come with the quell. ”The eightieth, just twenty more years and there will have been one hundred games…” It is a thought that he shares with his wife in the morning of the reaping. ”I wonder what twist the hundredth will have, maybe they will start reaping adults or worse, infa…” He doesn’t continue his sentence, the thought sickens his stomach and he just shakes his head. A plain grey suit and a scruffy beard, he bets the officials will be horrified by his image, but it is one day of the year where he wants to feel comfortable. Feel comfortable while watching two of his citizens being shipped off to slaughter.
The early autumn sun burns through the curtains of the kitchen window, he is the first to be fully up, along with the little terrier dog that attaches itself to his ankles. ”Don’t worry, your breakfast is coming up.” Pierre plates up the left over mutton from the night before for Pip and then tends to himself. Leaning against the kitchen counter, he shovels the porridge oats into his mouth, waiting for the others to come downstairs. It is a hurried morning, no sitting around the table and talking about the day ahead…not that it is common thing for the household to practice.
There is no talk today, it has been five years. Five years since the last quell. Five years since Pierre became mayor. Five years since their last daughter died. It is a year of mourning and campaigning.
With a kiss goodbye to Abi and Preston, Pierre slips out. The walk to the town square is a quiet one, it won’t be long until the hustle and bustle erupts in the streets. Pierre lets these hours of peace sink in as he bursts through the double doors of the justice building. There really is no reason for Pierre to be present on that stage, just an image for the citizens to not notice. So many faces accompany the fresh tributes and all the eyes are on them. Pierre’s role is just to disappear behind the spotlight, no speech but to be a part of the audience on the stage. It is one part of his role as mayor where he really has no power.
”Good morning everyone, back at it again ayyy!” A forced smile peaks from behind his strawberry blonde beard. ”I hope that chair outside is comfy.” He gets his usual reception from the officials, nods and hurried bodies. For the entire year he has tried to maintain a peacefully relationship with them but whenever the games roll by it breaks up and Pierre just lets it. They all seem to forgive him when the finale ends. Well after the scene of last year, he really needed to work on making amends and fixing the hole in the wall of the justice building…and his broken knuckles.
”Any idea on what the twist is?” Pierre is given a reply of shaking heads and shrugs. ”Well what a surprise we have in store then.”
Pierre sits with his arms crossed, the autumn chill takes hold of him and he regrets not taking a coat out with him today. His usually friends and family support group has continued to these games, he begs that no tribute be from a large family or a relative of a past participant in the games. He really cannot deal with all the drama again.
And so, the usual gibberish begins, they really need to update the yearly escort material…
”Sable Delamore.”
“Oliver Wren”
No volunteers follow the unknowns to the stage, this may be an interesting year…
”A four and a five? Damn this going to be a boring year!” The training scores of his tributes are revealed and they really are not impressive at all. The whispered betting in his office is on how early they are likely to fall rather than either of them winning. ”This isn’t going to help me at all, we really are going to need a miracle.”
Back to his usually position of burying his head into his arms on his desk, all he can do is wait for the bloodbath and prayer that at least one of them comes out of it alive.
”They both got out unscathed, well there were no cannons so it really isn’t that impressive.” The thirst for blood is strong in his office but Pierre is more relieved. There will be no embarrassment of a premature death this year but still, there has been no cannon fire and his tributes are not in the best of positions.
”Well they are not hurt so that can be some relief.””They did flee from the fight early, neither of them is fully equipped.”
”Can we just be pleased that they are alive?””Well of course but…”
Pierre pushes himself to his feet at the desk, cutting the official’s sentence short. ”They have their lives and we should be pleased. Update me if anything escalates, I have a support group to go to.” With a huff and a puff, Pierre escapes from the madness in his office. Hopes of an easy games before the storm of the elections have not been granted to him. This is going to be his hardest year as mayor…
