pink. — isaac v sven v ellis, day six.

The invitation had arrived in a pink envelope, and her answer was on her lips before she could reach for her letter opener sat delicately on her bedroom vanity.

Of all her work, this was by far the most prestigious. Commentating the Games was usually reserved for experts, not actors. And a Quell too! Her shrieks could be heard throughout every hidden corner of the Wilde mansion, a kiss to the photograph of her mother hanging by her bedroom door, jumping up and down in front of Grimsby.

And then she was here, cameras rolling, rehearsals done. Pink dress, pink desk, pink lights in the arena. Three fighters instead of one, the biggest pack of all - that was accolade enough, but to Amelia, the greatest treasure of all was that they'd chosen her for pink.

Her father could not have been more proud.

"Hello everyone!" she began, voice airy and full of light - juxtaposed against the violence of the arena. "I'm Lola Wilde, and it is my honour to bring you the last, but certainly not least, fight today!"

She studies the three tributes, one from each of the far-flung corners of Panem she would most likely never get to see. A spectrum of skill and district, but near identical in their metal mechanisms. She glances at the screen above the camera, three numbers trailing each of the tributes shown in the glow of pink light - 1, 10, 12.

They hover, weapons poised, waiting for the other to make the first move.

"Now let's see what this trio will bring - will we see an alliance form to take out the weaker mech suit, or will they try even this fight out like so many did in the catacombs of the last Quell?"

To be transparent, Amelia wasn't the most avid Games fan. Sure she watched them, took part in celebrations, went to the parties they invited her to. But if she was anything, she was committed to her work - researching this role as she would for any job. For a week she sat in front of the television, re-watching old games from the past decade with her Avox Grimsby. She memorised fights like lines, names like characters, twists and turns like narrative arcs. To her this was entertainment like no other, and for the first time in her life she began to understand just how much of a show the Hunger Games had become.

So she performs, spectacularly, for the greatest show on earth.

"District 10's Sven takes the first swipe at both of his competitors - with Isaac Le Roux of 1 taking most of the damage. And they're not happy about that are they? Ellis Gallagher of 12 opts for a spiked gauntlet -- ouch, looks like that hurt! And while distracted, Le Roux swerves around the back of both enemies and knocks them from behind! Wow! What a marvelous display of quick-thinking!"

She's enjoying this, doe-eyes as wide as her smile for the camera.

"Ellis seems to have gotten the hang of that gauntlet, leaving dents in both mech and bone - oh! Goodness, I could feel those broken bones from here!"

A prompt flashes for her: MORE ISAAC, she nods curtly and switches gear.

"Le Roux seems to have his career strategy at play here, opting for a ranged attack whilst the two lower districts tear each-other apart. He aims..."

A beat, two, the canon charges up on-screen.

"...and fires, hit landing right in the middle of 10's mech suit! That's got to hurt! And a quick-fire attack toward 12, Ellis dodges one but can't escape the second from Isaac!"

[ coding by griffin ]