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Skylar
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Tribute Interviews Sept 14, 2010 16:04:47 GMT -5

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Post by Skylar on Sept 14, 2010 16:04:47 GMT -5

Ocean Jones

^{a million years.
spent without ears.
for a single moment.
death.}

For a girl named Ocean Jones, she felt as beautiful as she'd ever felt. The stylists that had placed her in a black dress, the skirt coming down towards her knees before guiding its way away from her body, making a perfect circle at the base. Orange, yellow, and white pinstripes adorned the dress, each one fading into a different color every few seconds, a reminder of absolutely nothing other than a glowing ember of coal. The color pattern that the stripes made was a medley of flame colors, white, orange, yellow, red, blue. They resembled flames, they resembled fire, they resembled coal, they resembled the glowing of coal. They resembled District 12. The pinstripes were very subtle, however, so that, unless told what was happening in the dress, you could very easily only tell that something different was happening every few seconds.

Ocean's particular head stylist, a man named Lithias, had designed and placed her in this ensemble of beauty, the make up artist removing every last hair on her body that was seen as unattractive in the Capitol's eyes. They'd took a light paint brush and coated it in a shiny, powdery substance, covering her hands and some of her forearms in a very shiny, metallic powder, to resemble the coal dust that fell and landed on just about everything that was anything in District 12. Her hair, a black, silky straight head of hair was pulled back, was curled to he maximum, blue, red, white, yellow, and orange metallic ribbons running through it. It fell down her back, though maintaining the bounce of the curl, imitated a hair set aflame. She was magnificent, despite Lithias' sour attitude about every aspect of Ocean. It seemed that he was angry that he'd had to be District 12's stylist, as its fashion pieces were most of the time ignored. 'Oh, it's just District 12. Nothing special.' 'Of course, District 1 looked amazing as always.'

Ocean sat in a chair, a smile spread across her face, hands laid in her lap, waiting to be signaled to be asked numerous questions, that surely, would fascinate at least 1 person throughout the nation of Panem. She felt that, though she maybe wasn't the most popular Tribute, if she could touch the heart of just one, just one, person other than her family throughout the nation, she'd be happy. It actually made her happy just thinking about it. If she were to make one person smile, or make one person have some type of attachment, she would have made her mark on Panem. If she made her mark on Panem, she would have made her mark for herself, to not be hated. To feel loved, to feel spiritually happy. Truly happy. So when a man dressed in black, a microphone attached around his ear and placed in front of his mouth motioned for Ocean to come on, she wiped her sweaty palms on her thighs and made her way to the center of the stage.

She had been told through a short, typed out piece of parchment with small vignettes after each paragraph, that the interview would consist of a few questions, and that for each Caesar was to ask, his exact words would pop up on a screen off to the side of the stage, and Ocean would read what she could silently, and answer to the best of her ability. Ocean saw this as both a game and a test of her abilities. If she read the question without stumbling upon a word or two, she'd win a point for that question. If she would miss a few words or so, a point would be taken away.

She looked out to the crowd of hundreds of Capitolites that had each and every eye locked on one single girl for a few minutes. As her head turned back to Caesar, she was hit in the face by an aroma of a tulip. There were many back home in District 12, particularly in the back yard of her house, and the scent made her life that much better. She carefully took a long, slow sniff of him, and stared into his golden shaded eyes. A smile, and her eyes darted off towards the screen.

Words began to appear, one after another, on the screen, and she read every one of them without a flaw. 'Here's Ocean Jones, a District 12 female tribute that's 15 years old.' She nodded.

One point.

The butterflies that once fluttered in her stomach were now gone. Sort of like a piano recital or a singing competition. Tons of butterflies, nervousness, before hand, but when it comes down to it, it's like nothing than it usually is. Just playing piano, or just singing to yourself. Ocean Jones wasn't being interviewed for anyone except herself and the one person that she planned on touching the heart of. She let out a nod.

'So, how [unknown word] do you feel about the Games now that you've seen your training score?' she'd lost one point. She was back down to zero. She cleared her throat, and answered what she'd heard. How she felt about the Games now that she new her Training Score. "Well, Caesar Flickerman, I feel actually quite bad. I mean, it's sort of sad that there's some people that got 10s and stuff, because it means that they're gonna do bad, but when you get a good score as I had, like a one, well, that means that you can do good and win the Games. I think it was like a sport named gofe? Where the lower that your score was means the more you're winning!" Ocean, of course, was completely wrong in this regard, for it was the opposite. The higher the score the better. 'Well, isn't it the [unknown word]?' One more lost point, making her at negative one, and an unanswerable question. "Uh, sure." Her face gleamed once more, though her heart was sinking. She was losing the Game.

Ocean Jones desperately tried to find a way to hear again, she pulled on her skin, she wiped her dress, she smiled larger than any smile ever seen, she shook her head. She was making herself look like a fool for nothing. She couldn't hear, she wouldn't be able to hear. 'Whoa, funky dance.' She was back to 0 points. She'd got that one right. Ocean Jones nodded and laughed. 'What has made you the most happy about the Capitol since you've been here?' She'd had trouble at first with the word 'happy', for it was an emotion that was rarely felt, even through all the cover ups. "Well, Caesar Flickerman, I just really like glitter and stuff that the people wear. It's really shiny and it makes them look like faeries. Who doesn't like faeries? It just sorta looks like your eyes, sorta. Except over the whole body. 'Cause they're golden and sparkly and stuff." 'Oh! Well thank you! I really do like the glitter too.' She giggled, not at what was said, but at the fact that she once more had one point.

It was the truth, too. She'd loved all the glitter and shiny things that the Capitol had to offer. The way the light reflected it and landed amongst her eyes was captivating, and when seeing someone who was a "Shiny", or so she called them. She found herself unable to look away when saw one of them, and that's why it took her a while to realize she was missing important point-winning words on the screen.

'Do you like anyone back in District 12?' Well, there was the one boy that she'd had a crush ever since she was 13 or so, but ever since she'd volunteered she'd thought nothing of him. She had thought of the Trace boy, from District 5, the one she'd helped trough spilled blood and glass. "Yup, Caesar Flickerman. Not there though. Here. Trace. He's really cool and.. what's the word? I think.. I think the word is hot." She'd gained a point, and she was now at two, smiling all the while. She'd said what she felt, and of course that had to get someone's heart.

Ocean quickly glanced at the audience, who seemed to love what was occurring. Ocean Jones smiled to them and looked back at the screen. 'What do you like to do in your [unknown word] time?' She'd lost a point, now at 1 point. She thought positive, however, and realized it was one more than 0. What a way to think, Ocean! "Well, Caesar Flickerman, I really like to mess around with the shower buttons and try to make new stuff in my room. Since I can't really talk to no one, I -" She was tingling with a vibrating sensation, and one of the men off to the side flashed the words "Time is up!" on the screen. Ocean blew a few kisses to the audience, and gently, elegantly, smiled and made her way off of the interview stage.

"One point. You could've done better, Ocean."

Last Edit: Sept 14, 2010 17:23:57 GMT -5 by Skylar

aya
Administrator

6,261 POSTS
last seen Sept 15, 2024 22:06:23 GMT -5

"GUNNERRRRR~"

Tribute Interviews Sept 15, 2010 14:58:55 GMT -5

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Post by aya on Sept 15, 2010 14:58:55 GMT -5

Leave the preaching to the president
The crowd cheers, his eyes get wet
I'm full as it is, I'm full as it is
So don't feed me more

Name: Nash Harvey —
District: Two ~~people talking inside your brain~~
Age: Eighteen

Nash found herself in an unusually calm place before her interview. She'd already seen her unsurprisingly mediocre training score. For some reason, the average score had calmed her — there hadn't been very many standouts, actually. Topaz was near the top, having gotten a nine, Nash remembered ~~(which startled Nash; Ten was the number she had associated with the other girl.)~~ To her relief, she was joined in the less-than-typical range of scores by Takeba, who'd scarcely done better than Nash herself. It wasn't all bad.

The thought of how her mother must view her 5 in training, though, made it that much better. She smiled to herself. Not only would Dr. Harvey be forced to refute the lies she'd spawned of her daughter's death after the girl moved out, but with some luck, would have a heart attack at the low, low, single-digit number. (Nash hoped it would be a heart attack that would kill the cardiothoracic surgeon, just for the irony of it.)

The thought gave her an odd burst of confidence, or, at least granted her a moment of serenity. Even though she'd realized before that she'd never have to see the wretched woman again — years before, when Nash moved out, actually — this would finalize it. As the number of seconds until the Arena plummeted, so did the odds of a chance encounter between the tribute and her mother. Thank whatever merciful demon that lorded over the world.

Her name was called, and Nash perambulated calmly onto the stage. She hardly remembered the actions framing the interview itself, but instead, as more of a monologue.

[/color] [/blockquote]How confident do you feel about the games now that you've seen your training score?

It's subpar for someone… from my district. Good. I'll be an outlier in the data set. I don't mind.

What has impressed you most about the Capitol since you've been here?

All the silver. There's not that much back home, not real silver anyhow. I… I've got a sort of love for silver.

Do you have a special someone back home *nudge nudge*?

No, no one back in District Two is special. That's one thing I've liked about being here — the diversity in the other tributes. Some are… interesting.

What do you like to do in your free time?

I think.

What is your family like?

Nash remembered grinning. This is the one subject she was more than ready to spend a long time on. She repeated the words exactly as they were fed to her by one of the Two.

My father's real quiet, you know? Doesn't stick up for himself much. He's a decent guy if you can catch him alone — but, that's only sometimes. You see, my mother, on the other hand — well, we never got along. I didn't like the way she did things, she didn't like anything to be different. Everything had to be just to her specification. And if it wasn't, it had to change. Change or be removed. I moved out — sort of — a year or so ago, and make of that what you will.

[/blockquote]Do you miss anything in particular from back home?

There's nothing back home worth missing anymore.

What's something you'd like to say to your friends and family back home? How about your fellow tributes?

Don't really have friends back there, not since Noam died. And we've already discussed my lovely family, so I'll leave you with that blank to fill in for yourself.

[/size][/color]

Last Edit: Sept 15, 2010 15:02:03 GMT -5 by aya

{characters}

certified kindergartener
stranded in "beach" "city"
leader of the crystal gems

Lulu
Retired Staff

[M:2982250]

3,114 POSTS
last seen Nov 24, 2023 13:45:22 GMT -5

Tribute Interviews Sept 15, 2010 18:51:51 GMT -5

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Post by Lulu on Sept 15, 2010 18:51:51 GMT -5

.:.:.:.:.:.:.
ice age heat wave can't complain
if the world's at large why should i remain?
walked away to another plan
gonna find another place maybe one i can stand
.:.:.:.:.:.:.

There had never been a time in which Topaz Ross had not reveled in excitement and drama, and the tribute interviews for the fifty-sixth Hunger Games were no exception to this. While most tributes were probably scared out of their wits as they became exposed to the bright lights that shone with astounding force on the City Circle, the seventeen-year-old couldn't get enough of it. She loved the spotlight...as long as it was shining on her in a positive way, of course.

There was a few sets of bleachers dotting the area but for the most part, the thousands of people who relished a chance to 'get to know' the tributes of this year's Games were standing. Every face in the crowd was alight with excitement; these were the Capitol's very own shining stars, or so they were portrayed. Now that they had received their training scores, this was a chance to really get a feel for who they were. Or, at least, who they wanted people to think they were.

The tributes filed into their seats besides the low, round stage set up in the center of the Circle. The famed Ceasar Flickerman, who'd been the Games' interviewer for over twenty years now, was perched upon it. His theme was a deep shade of sunset orange this year, with hair, eyeliner, and lipstick that exemplified the unusual color. Normally Topaz would have pondered this odd choice of color for a bit. She would have also been beside herself with the fact that she was set to be interviewed first; if there was anything Tope loved it was being first. Perhaps her astounding golden gown with accents of black would have pleased her as well, but her mind was on other things. Where was her alliance? She preferred to keep tabs on them whenever they were all together; if she watched what they did, how they acted, how they responded to things, she could get to know them better. She'd know how they moved, how they worked, so that when the Arena they'd all be able to fit together like a complex jigsaw puzzle. And even though it wasn't something she particularly enjoyed thinking about, she'd know their weaknesses for if and when it came time to kill them.

The Career couldn't exactly fathom why this thought made her uncomfortable. She was supposed to rejoice in killing, because it would bring her one step closer to her goal of making it home alive and as well as she could be under the circumstances. Well, no...yes she could fathom why. But this was another thing that caused her discomfort.

Its name was Nash Harvey.

.:.:.:.:.:.:.
Well uh-uh baby i ain't got no plan
we'll float on maybe
would you understand?
.:.:.:.:.:.:.

At that moment the buzzer that indicated the start of her turn sounded, postponing her thoughts of Nash and their unwelcome 'friendship', of sorts, for a later time. The seventeen-year-old walked with a confident purpose up to the chair set up beside Ceasar meant for the tribute being interviewed. And then it began.

"And here we have our very first tribute, hailing from District One...Topaz Ross!" Ceasar's voice rang out over the Circle and its surrounding areas, and Tope knew that their faces were being broadcasted over all of Panem right then. "So, Topaz, am I right in saying that you are sixteen years old?"

"Seventeen," Topaz corrected, mildly annoyed that the host of the Hunger Games hadn't even bothered to find out her proper age. Ceasar didn't seem affected by her slight scowl, though; in fact it appeared that he hadn't noticed at all. His dazzling camera-ready smile was still woven from cheek to cheek, not faltering for even the briefest moment. Even Tope herself, who was used to plastering false, deceiving grins on her face, wondered how his mouth wasn't numb from doing so yet. And they were only a few seconds into the interview. But then again, she acknowledged, he's had plenty of practice.

Ceasar manipulated his features into a confused and slightly comical expression and scratched his chin in pretend bewilderment, which prompted a few titters from the audience. "Ah, well, my mistake. I apologize profusely." He clapped a hand on Topaz's shoulder, which she all but ignored. "Now, onto our first question! So, seventeen year old Topaz Ross of District One, now that you've seen your training score--and a nine, at that!--do you feel any more confident about what lies ahead?"

The teenager raised an eyebrow. "Am I supposed to?"

[/color] Before she got an answer, though, she continued. "It's nice to have a vote of confidence from those in charge,"[/color] without thinking much of it Topaz sent a wink in the direction of the roped off section of seats that was designated for Gamemakers only, as if implying that something more interesting had happened in her session while in reality it hadn't been much to marvel at. ]"Really, though, what does a training score really tell you? What matters is what you can seriously do, and no Gamemaker can judge what that is. So I plan on showing off everything I've got, everything I've learned, to hopefully surprise even them."[/color] As she spoke, she couldn't help but think of the five that Nash had received. She had always gotten the impression that the District Two female wasn't a typical Career, but couldn't she have at least done something remotely impressive? Although, hadn't she just announced to all of Panem that training scores were unimportant in her eyes? Perhaps Nash had something entirely different up her sleeve, something shocking. Now that would be impressive. "Getting a nine doesn't mean shit."[/color]

She could see the audience murmuring, maybe in opposition or maybe even in agreement; she couldn't tell. And she didn't have time to observe for very much longer, either, because Ceasar moved right on to the next question. "Interesting opinion. Now, I have to ask: what has impressed you most about the Capitol during your stay here?" The question took her by surprise. What had impressed her most? Hm. Not very much; she'd been so busy with training to even notice much else. In fact, that was the only thing that really did satisfy her...

"That would have to be the training program. It's a great system you've got going on, really provides an opportunity for the less experienced tributes to sharpen up their skills." The red-haired girl couldn't help but give a small smirk. "Because they'll definitely need it." Topaz realized that she was sounding like a typical Career; praising the Capitol's training program over everything else they had to offer, and then putting down the lesser tributes in a subtle way. She debated whether or not she liked coming across as this, but eventually decided she didn't mind; it was probably better this way, portraying that kind of image for herself. Scare the others off.

Ceasar seemed contended with her answer, for he moved on to ask his next question, eyes narrowing to provide a look of playful mischief. "So, Topaz, many people have insisted on getting an answer to this question--is there someone particularly special to you back home in One?" From the way he put emphasis on the word 'special' the nature of this question was obvious.

With an internal eyeroll, Tope tried to come up with a way to best answer this question. She couldn't very well pour out her innermost feelings to the entire nation--how she longed for love, true love, and not the synthetic kind she sometimes thought she felt after taking shots for a fair amount of time at a party--she hadn't ever confessed that to anyone. But she was horribly and utterly fed up with being used for a good time. "Oh, no. No one really loves me,"[/color] she finally responded. "They just love to get me drunk."[/color] Her golden gaze trained on the cameras as she spoke the last few words of that sentence, narrowing into a cold glare. Let her peers back in District One make of that what they would.

It was obvious that Ceasar was a bit stumped by this answer; his professionalism showed some flaws as he tried to come up with some kind of response. Eventually he just veered into the next question and didn't ask her to elaborate, to her immense relief. "Alright, then...well, what do you enjoy doing in your free time?"

This question caught Topaz somewhat off-guard. Free time? She didn't consider herself one that had much free time. She went to school. Trained. And the rest of her time was spent..."Well, I've got a lot of friends, I suppose. We...you know, walk around the district, I guess...tell each other stories about the latest vapid occurrence in our lives...same old, same old, really."[/color] That time the roll of her eyes was visible, providing the impression that she was exasperated with her daily schedule of friend-time, even though it had never really bothered her before...well, it had only taken a week with the Hunger Games looming over her--and time spent with certain others--to make her realize that it was irritating.

"What about that family of yours, eh? Tell us about them," Ceasar prompted. This one was less surprising; she'd seen it coming. Tributes were always asked about their families.

"Well...there's my parents. They're nice, I guess. Work a lot."[/color] Mommy Dearest was probably peeved that her oldest, most prized daughter had blatantly dismissed her on live television. She had always been one for positive publicity. Dad really wouldn't give a damn.

Ceasar nodded. "And what about that sister of yours? You two must be thick as thieves, seeing as you volunteered for her, and all."

"Sapphire...yeah, we've always been pretty close, although we're pretty much polar opposites...she's a scholar type."[/color] It was easier to talk about Saph than anyone else, since the two had spent so much time together throughout their childhood; as long as she didn't think about the unavoidable fact that she did indeed miss her sister she was fine. As she thought about her younger sibling, the tribute remembered the trinket she'd given her to use as her district token on the day they'd had to say goodbye. "She gave me my district token, actually. It's a little diamond-and-sapphire owl pin that our grandmother gave her quite a while ago. She'd called Saph a 'wise old owl' for some time, actually. That's how it came about."[/color] It seemed prudent to tell a little story in this situation. Sponsors seemed to go for the tributes they came to 'know' the most, the ones who left a lasting impression on them. "Surprised she's letting me use it, though. She loved that thing."[/color] Sapphire, always the sensitive one, was probably crying now. Holed up in her room, latest book lying forgotten on the floor, tears pouring down her face. She probably had a cup of coffee sitting beside her as well. Saph loved coffee.

The Hunger Games' long-standing host seemed to eat up this story. He was always at his best in the sappy bits of the interviews, always knowing which direction to steer them in to make the spotlighted tribute shine. "Well, I'm sure she had her reasons." He stopped for a moment to smile even wider and give his hair an unneeded flip. "And a more personal inquiry--is there anything in particular you miss from back home?"

"Oh, definitely all the drama." The sarcastic sentence slipped off of Topaz's tongue with ease. "But no...hm. Not exactly. I wasn't having a particularly fun time in One of late, anyway."[/color] She would refuse to go into detail on that subject, even if Ceasar requested she did. Luckily, he didn't. "Although it was considerably easier, not having the threat of death looming over you at every second." The female tribute from District One gave a slight laugh, though the smile did not reach her eyes. She did not enjoy the prospect of death...she was planning on winning anyway, right?

It was obvious that the buzzer was going to ring momentarily; her three minutes must be nearly up. Sure enough, Ceasar spoke words of farewell. "Well, that's nearly all the time we have for Topaz Ross of District One! Before we say goodbye, though, is there anything you want to add in to say to the people back home? What about to your fellow tributes?"

She had to think for a brief moment. "Well, to those at home...keep watching."[/color] It seemed fitting. Keep watching, because these were surely going to be a Games that no one would forget. "To the tributes...watch your backs. This is where the hard part begins."[/color] Despite her own words, though, Topaz Ross had evidence that proved the contrary; the hard part had long since begun.[/blockquote][/justify]

.:.:.:.:.:.:.
the moths beat themselves to death against the lights
adding their breeze to the summer nights
outside water like air was great
i didn't know what i had that day
.:.:.:.:.:.:.

[/size][/color]

Last Edit: Sept 15, 2010 18:54:09 GMT -5 by Lulu

{lulu's cast}

Tori
Retired Staff

1,071 POSTS
last seen May 7, 2013 21:56:19 GMT -5

Pigfarts, Pigfarts, yum, yum, yum.

Tribute Interviews Sept 15, 2010 21:32:26 GMT -5

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Post by Tori on Sept 15, 2010 21:32:26 GMT -5

Name: Clarisse Wilmith. It was an easy question. Short, simple, and to the point.
District: Six. No feelings needed to be involved in that one either.
Age: Seventeen. This was just giving the capitol a general idea of who the girl sitting infront of them was.

How confident do you feel about the games now that you've seen your training score?

She had gotten a four. But for a good reason. It was expected. What is it but a number really? Skills can easily be faked or not shown as all. I'm could care less. She shrugged and pushed free strands of her hair behind her ears.

What has impressed you most about the capitol since you've been here?

Everything was impressive here. The people who were canvases for their art. The food that melted in your mouth. The baths that relieved years of stress. I think the food was the best. When will I ever get to taste stuff like that again? I've eaten so much of it already. Truth here and truth there. What could it hurt?

Do you have a special someone back home *nudge nudge*?

Ouch. I did. But he was reaped two years ago. He's dead now. Whatever. I'm sure you all remember Rocko. And then Jango. There was recognisition throughout the audience at the names. Well, hi. I'm Clarisse. Remember my name being thrown about? She almost smiled. Clearly, they did.

What do you like to do in your free time?

The only thing I've been doing lately is working. I lead an exciting life. The sarcasism in her voice was thick.

What is your family like?

Family? There wasn't much left of that. I don't really talk to anyone anymore. My family has been gone for a long time. Or those that were considered family.

Do you miss anything in particular from back home?

What's to miss? The capitol had so many things the districts lack. It was heaven on earth. So what was there to miss back home. I don't plan on going back anyways. Don't care.

What's something you'd like to say to your friends and family back home? How about your fellow tributes?

Nope, not really. Oh wait. Tributes, you're going to die. By my hand or another. Whatever. But if you get in my way, I'll be the one to kill you. I'd enjoy that.

My characters can be found here. PM me to roleplay.

Kevin
Hunter

[M:500]

76 POSTS
last seen Mar 24, 2012 1:24:49 GMT -5

Family is the halcyon wind among the chaotic discord of the world.

Tribute Interviews Oct 11, 2010 4:39:06 GMT -5

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Post by Kevin on Oct 11, 2010 4:39:06 GMT -5

Anani Petros

Any dream can be achieved, only for it to be lost

“I’m Aranica Petros, but you can call me Ara if you want. I’m twelve years old, and I’m from District Twelve.”

...Memories flashed. Emotions returned. Feelings surged. None of these were welcome.

Silent whimpers escaped Anani's tentative figure as the figures of other tributes up on the spotlight ignited memories of his younger sister from the past year. He remembered the small figure go audaciously up on the stage and win the hearts of Panem, while he tossed and turned in agony. These memories, emotions, and feelings were definitely not welcome.

Both of his hands covered his temples as he crouched over his seat. He didn't want the memories anymore. He didn't want to feel what he had felt back then. It was all over, and he had thought it would never return. The warm, satisfying breakfasts over a conversation of what their favorite animals were... the midnight walks consisting of just staring at the crystal clear stars in halcyon weather... the life of luxury, of pleasure, of just pure bliss... these were all over. They had a functional family for once, just because his selfish desires that had been fulfilled by Nisa's newly found wealth no longer obstructed his way of becoming a responsible, lovable older brother. But that fantasy, that dream, that transitive wish he had held onto by a thread back in the days... it was all over.

His sister had made it through... Somehow, miraculously, Nisa had made it through... Would he have that same luck? Would he be able to make it through?... Would he even see his sister ever again after he passed into the arena?... Probably not. But he hoped and he prayed. He knew that anybody who was about to die instantly became a believer in a religion or a god. He was one of them, and he would pray his heart out that he'd be able to survive. He was afraid of death, and he knew he was cornered.

Anani nervously squirmed in his chair as he watched every other tribute go up there and have their share of time in front of the wide spotlight with Caesar Flickerman. Some were confident in their abilities, and some were less than so. Some people tried to intimidate the others while the others tried to give off a more serene aura. Whether it was this or that, Anani couldn't hear any of them. Only the several embedded quotes of his sister's interview ran through the mouths of every single tribute as sweat beaded his palms. It seemed to drag on for hours and days for what was only a single hour. Only when Ocean went up to the stage did he finally realize that it would soon be his turn to scramble up on to the stage and have his "glamorous" interview.

Anani looked on towards his comely district partner with another tinge of sadness. She too, would be dead in a matter of days. The pretty, vibrant colors on her dress would be nothing but extinguished flames. Everyone would be dead... Every single one of them..

Anani looked himself over as he cringed at the glowering red and orange colors that adorned his body. They were dim colors, but yet, they still seemed too flamboyant for his tastes. But with another realization of sadness, he knew that this would be the last time he would actually look decent in front of the crowd. It was his best time to gain supporters and he wouldn't throw that away.

As the bell rang out to indicate that Ocean's time was up, Anani squeezed the cushion of his chair as he tried to let go of all the built up tension he had. All of the sad, terrible memories he had... He needed to let that go before he went up there, or all of it would come tumbling out, and that wouldn't be good for his image. Nobody wanted to sponsor a weak, sniveling, crybaby. And he would just show the world that he wouldn't be.

Anani tried his best to not stumble as he quietly shuffled his way towards center stage, as he continued trying to calm himself down through deep breathing. Anani gave a light grin to the crowd as he walked upon the stage. He could be strong for the crowd... He would be strong for the crowd... For his life, for the midnight walks, for his sister.

Anani casually sat down on the chair, only to see the bright, beaming face of Caesar Flickerman staring right back at him. It was no wonder why the Capitol had chosen him to be their interviewer, for Anani already felt at ease. The smile was contagious as Anani's smile grew even wider. This is just a pleasant conversation with his friend. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Ladies and gentlemen, last but not least, the male tribute from District 12 and the brother of last year's victor, Anani Petros!”

Anani silently gulped as he heard the echo of Caesar's voice reach out across their audience. Without thinking, Anani just continued to smile and nod as he let Caesar do his job.

"So, Anani, you're sixteen am I correct?" With a nod and a cough to clear his throat, Anani answered with an affirmative. With a nod and smile of his own, Caesar continued on without hesitation.

"So, first question! How do you feel about your score? Aranica scored a 7 last year, while you scored a 5." With another nod, Anani gathered up the small bits of courage he wished he had. "Well... Caesar, I can't say I'm pleased with it, but like Nisa --Yes, Nisa's her real name-- before me had said... I can't really fight or defend myself too well... But hey, I think that worked last year for Nisa pretty well, didn't it?" Anani smiled as he heard the scattered laughter of the crowd. It was not a joking matter, but here he was, trying to play the emotions of the crowd so that he would have more sponsors. It was disgusting and absolutely atrocious. But he had to do it.

Caesar chuckled along to his mild attempt to make a joke, and continued on with an encouraging fervor. "Right you are, Anani! Ara-- Nisa, I mean, definitely ended up on top with that skill set. So besides that, what has really impressed you about the Capitol since you've been here?" Memories flooded his mind again as a certain quote spread into his mind. With an amiable smile, Anani gave a short laugh before answering, "Please, just call her Aranica. I've grown fond of having Nisa as a personal nickname of my sister for my own use. But in answer to your question, I think I found the pizza here as good as my sister said it was." As the crowd chuckled along to his reference of his sister's interview, Anani peered over to see Caesar's mien turn a bit more serious. It wasn't hard to see that these past questions were all just buffers to ease him into the situation. These next questions, they were the ones that he would have trouble with.

"Right you are Anani! You definitely can't say anything bad about the food around here. But turning to more personal matters, how did you feel last year when your sister had been reaped? It's apparent to us that you guys didn't really know each other well back then, but now you guys do. Did you care for her as much back then?"

Anani paused. And he hesitated. And suddenly, a fleeting memory overcame his mind.

All he had remembered was that it was a sunny day. Everyone had been in a rush, trying to get everything in order to get the reaping underway. He had been in the 15 year old section, silently praying to be not reaped as always. The chances were slim of him being picked; he had known that, but he had always known that there was the small possibility of his own death being pulled. The guy had been pulled first, some guy he didn't know named Kale, who was a year older than himself. Anani had shrugged and given a sigh of relief as he relished his chance for life for another year. It hadn't matter who else was going to be picked, as long as he would survive. Nobody else had mattered.

But suddenly, he had heard his last name called out. He had frantically stared up at the stage, completely shocked and confused. Had he been picked after all? Had his time to live been spent up? But as he soon processed the fact that Kale was still up on the stage, his mind turned to other, more rational thoughts. After coming up with no plausible reason for "Petros" to be called out, he had waited to see the biggest surprise of his life. There stood his sister, who he had long thought was dead. It was not a matter of happiness or sadness. It had been just pure shock. For the rest of the reaping, Anani had stood there, completely immobilized until his sister had been taken off the stage and stolen to the Capitol.

Anani tore back into reality as he realized both his hands were shaking. "How... how I felt?" Anani stared into the crowd as he searched for his sister's face to calm him down. With no luck there, he continued on. "Just... completely... shocked... Can we move on to the next question?" Anani restricted himself from tears. He would not embarrass himself like that in front of the entire nation.

Caesar, realizing the toll the question had taken on Anani, moved onto a less burdensome question. "Ah... we're sorry to hear that. I'm sure it was a terrible experience. So on a lighter topic, what did you do in your free time?" Anani blinked a couple times at the rapid change in subject, as his slow breathing eventually ceased his shaking. "What I did... Ah... I just did miscellaneous things to live off on my own. Both my parents are dead. I lived for myself and for myself only... And then Nisa came along once again." The last part had been whispered but he knew that with the amplification, the entire nation had heard. "I... well, after I... we... Nisa and I, became a family again... we enjoyed... just being a family again. Having someone there to look after you... We took lots of walks together and talked a bunch. We even went out at night to see the stars and just sit there without anything bothering us. It was... finally... great for once. We were happy." Tears filled Anani's eyes as he quickly wiped them with the back of his hand. His non-sentimentality promise to himself was going down the drain. The crowd was more silent than usual, as they awaited to hear more.

Caesar gave sympathetic nods as he gave a pat on Anani's back. "We're sorry for you, Anani... So on that note, tell us more about Aranica... What's she like to have as a sister? You already know she's a crowd favorite from last year; we're all eager to know more about her.

Anani gave a nod of comprehension. Of course they would want to know more about his relationship with his sister. The Capitol was known for wanting to know about great relationships, only to watch eagerly as the relationship was torn apart. "Nisa?... Well, yeah, she's great." With a pause and a more genuine smile, he finally found his sister amongst the other mentors in the wide audience. "I can see her right now, and... I just have to say... you changed my life, Nisa. You saved me from being the evil creature I was... I learned to love life instead of hate it. Caesar, she's just lovable, whatever she does. She's caring and amiable. She's the best younger sister a guy could ask for." By this point, tears flowed freely from his eyes as he continued to wipe them off with the back of his hand.

Without stopping, Caesar continued to ask the next question to add onto the subject. "Last year, when she was interviewed, Ara mentioned that she thought she had a brother but couldn't quite place it. Could you expand on that?"

Anani stopped and stared as he recalled the specific quote that had haunted him for so long.

“As for my family, I don’t really have one. I think I have a brother, but I’m not totally sure about that. If I do, I haven’t seen him in years.”

He remembered that night when he finally felt the full consequence of his terrible deed. His sister had almost completely forgotten about him. She wasn't even sure that she had a brother. But she did remember... there was some hope in there that she might remember him if she saw him again... But at that time, it hadn't mattered because she was well predicted to be dead. It was terrible for him to keep on telling himself that it was his fault for leaving her alone... so defenseless... That was the moment when he had given up everything to fund his sister. He knew that he had to give her more than that. And he had to pray that he would get to see her again to make things right again.

Just ignoring the tears, Anani answered the question. "I... I... was a terrible person back then Caesar. I had ignored her... Since our parents were dead, I couldn't procure enough supplies for both of us to live off of... I abandoned her. I hadn't seen her for years when I saw her reaped that day... But I knew what I had done was wrong and selfish... Can you blame me for it? Blame me for leaving my sister behind so I can live? Well, I can. I blame myself for it to this very day. I regret it every waking moment I'm reminded of what she had to go through in those Games. I didn't think I would get the chance to right my wrongs, but I did. Nisa had won the Games and I made sure to make things right in her eyes. I don't know if I did... but I sure tried my best." As he caught his sister's eyes again, he spoke in another sad whisper. "I'm sorry, Nisa. I'm so sorry."

Caesar continued to goad the subject and the intrigued audience with another question. With a soft voice, he asked, "And how did you feel when Aranica, the sister that you love so dearly had her arm slashed off?" Another memory flashed throughout his mind as anger this time penetrated his mind.

He was in the rain when he was watching the TV from the big screen of the town center. Bystanders were watching as well, as they cheered on their District 12 tribute, but Anani had more on the line by that time. He had given up everything he had owned to sponsor his sister. He had already decided that he needed to protect her. All his wrongs in the past... deserting her... it did not excuse him from doing another wrong and just ignoring her when she was in such need.

The battle played out as Anani watched with a feeling of dread. She was so small compared to the other tributes, and he wouldn't know how he would take her death. As the dangerous blade started to swing towards his sister, Anani yelled out an outraged, "NO!" Aside from the strange glances he got from people around him, he watched in dismay as one of Nisa's arm was torn off without much resistance. Anger had raged throughout his mind at first... He pushed over people and ran towards something... a shelter of some kind that would protect him from the outside troubles. He needed to forget about it. He would not stand there and watch his sister die. Later on as he found shelter under a small shack, Anani cried for an amount of time that he couldn't even recall. Whether it was through sleep or a day of no food, he had mourned for his sister's death without even knowing who the victor was. He just wanted to avoid knowing the truth for as long as possible.

Lurching back into reality was more uncomfortable for him this time. He felt the same pain as he felt when he was cooped up in that shack for a couple days, just mourning the loss of his only hope. Tears were now coming at an unstoppable rate; the back of his hand were incapable of holding them back. Using both his hands to cover his face, he did his best to wipe the tears away so that he could speak. "I... I... th-thought she was a goner th-then and there, Caesar. I think I took my anger out on anything and anybody around me... I-I can't even remember well."

Caesar looked a bit speechless compared to his normal, flowing self, but he soon got himself together. But before he could ask his next question, the bell rang out throughout the stadium to indicate that the time for all interviews were over. With another sympathetic smile, Caesar asked his last question. "Once again, we're sorry for all the terror you're going through right now... but before you leave us, tell us this one last thing. Do you have anything to say to the people back at home, or to anyone you love? Anything to the tributes?"

Anani gave a solemn nod as he peered on through the tear stains that covered his face. He found the face of his sister again and continued. "I-I love you, Nisa. Don't forget that. When... when I'm gone... just look up at the stars and remember me. I'll always be there for you. I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you any earlier like a big brother should have. You've been the greatest sister and that's more than I ever deserved. I'm just happy to have spent the last three months with you in such bliss. I hope that you could say the same about me, even if I don't deserve it. And... to the tributes, I just hope that the losses to your loved ones won't feel as-as bad as it did for me. Th-thanks Caesar."

With a last nod of confirmation, Anani walked off stage as the audience sat there without making a single noise. Whether it was because they were disgusted by his sentimentality or just swayed by his emotions, he wouldn't know, but he knew he had failed to uphold his own promise to himself. He knew that he had failed to keep up his confidence when his own 12 year old sister had taken it with flair the previous year. But just as he failed his promise to himself, he knew that he had failed to upkeep his promise to his sister that he would always be there. Even though he hoped to always be in her her mind and heart, he knew that he would never be there to physically protect her. And that's what hurt him the most.