Serkit Tinwire D3

If you want to really know someone…
…Listen to their friends…

Serkit? Yeah I know her. Hilarious when she talks, in a sort of nasty spiteful way. Hm? No, she doesn’t exactly go out of her way to talk, actually, it usually seems like she’s holding herself back, but when she does, it’s usually worth hearing. So…You wanted to know about her looks? Oh sure, that’s easy. Her face is sort of masculine, just the way her jawbone looks like a really wide triangle on the bottom of her face, you know? And her eyes are gray, and kind of sadish if you get what I mean. They sort of droop. Her eyes have always freaked me out a bit. They’re steely, like all the other machinery around here and they’re so…I dunno, unfeeling maybe. But not dead or anything, because just like all the machines, you always feel like there’s something important going on behind the steely coldness of it all. She’s got light hair, blond, and she’s always doing something new with it. The latest thing is a short cut I think, but it never really stays the same for long.

She’s sort of pale, which I guess most of the lower working class people are. Spend their whole lives in factories unless they find a way out. Serkit has. She’s like, insanely ambitious. And confident I guess in her own sulky sort of way. But really content to sit in the background and just sort of…well I guess I’ve never really thought about what she does in the background…just wait for something I guess. Who knows right? Anyway, she’s somehow managed to work her way into the popular rich kid circles. That’s where she met me. We’re…huh…um, I guess partners in crime is the best word for it. Oh, right, sorry, her appearance. So she’s pale, and uh, her nose is sort of broad and flat-ish. And her lips are like, thick. Not plump or sexy or anything, just sort of…chunky. Oh, and she like, almost never smiles. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her smile. I think she’d be awfully pretty if she would. Uh…She’s tall maybe like six two, and I guess she has really broad shoulders too, but she’s just not imposing, you know what I mean? Like she’s obviously aggressive, but when you stand next to her, you don’t feel like she could break you, you just kind of feel like…well, sometimes, it’s weird, but you don’t even notice she’s there. If she wants you to feel her prescence, you will though. She doesn’t slouch or anything, and her walk isn’t particularly graceful either, it’s just sort of…discreet. Wow, I can’t seem to nail down a whole lot about her for you can I? But that’s sort of the person she is. You’re never really sure what you’re dealing with. You know she’s ambitious, and bitter, and angry, but she seems to want to be really chill, and sometimes she just loses it and gets really defensive…and she can get inside your head if she needs to but…I don’t know she doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. Is that all you wanted agent? Oh, wait, one more thing! This doesn’t actually have anything to do with her appearance. But it also sort of does. I guess it has more to do with her self image. Serkit is smart. She’d have to be to get away from the slave labor that goes on at the bottom of the food chain here in Three. But she presents herself as just being street smart, and here’s what’s important: she’s also books smart. Like, she presents this picture to you of Serkit Tinwire, the girl who doesn’t care, employed at the offices of Streetsmarts and Associates, but every now and then she says something. And it’s brilliant! Like, I mean, really insightful. The kind of stuff my private tutor would frame if I ever said it. And sometimes she’s just really eloquent. None of us know why. She’s never actually had any good schooling. I’m pretty sure she dropped out in like eighth grade. Anyway, it might not be important, but there you have it. Um, yeah. So I’ll just be going now.

…Listen to their family…

Hello! How are you? Oh I’m fine, thank you for asking. Well, I’ll admit I’m curious about the purpose of this interview, but I won’t pry. So what did you want to know from me? Oh Serkit’s early history of course! Silly of me to forget, I suppose I’m the only person who really knows it. Well let’s see. I guess I should start with my husband and I. My name is Nova, originally Nova Cogsly, and my husband’s name is Volt. We were both only children, and so is Serkit. Oh, and our last name is Tinwire.

Well, as a baby, Serkit was fussy. Very loud, she loved attention. And she used to look up at us with those pretty little grey eyes and rosey cheeks, oh, she questioned everything our little girl. And we answered her questions as best we could, we did our best in everything for her. Just so sweet and giggly and innocent. Do you have a child? Well, I think only a parent can understand. We loved her oh so much, and I think maybe we ended up spoiling her. But we only wanted the best for her. We certainly didn’t have the resources to spoil her, but we found a way to anyway. We really just gave her whatever she wanted. I remember one time our little girl set her eyes on this delicate silver whistle. It was so tiny, but it cost a fortune. Volt and I didn’t eat for three days just to scrape up the funds we needed to buy it. And then, once we bought it for her, she only used it to summon us. If we heard that shrill little sound, we knew that our princess wanted us. That was all before she even turned three. And then the hard times began. Work became scarcer, and we simply didn’t have the funds to treat her the way we used to. We tried of course, but at four years old, only four years sir, she went to work for the family begging at a nearby bar. Mostly just Peacekeepers and the rich who went in there, and I was terrified to see her go. And with good reason! Within a week, she came home crying to me about how awfully they all treated her, how they gave her so little and how they made her do horrible things to get it. Such things, sir! Things they said, horrible jobs they made her do (one man crapped all across the bathroom floor, just to make my little baby clean it up!), and the condition of the place in general. What did I do? Well, I’m a mother what do you think I did? I looked for a new place where she might beg! But nowhere else was willing to allow a beggar and a toddler to wander about their workplace, and we couldn’t survive without the money. So I ached and cried for my little cherub, and sent her back to beg at that bar day after day after day. I think that’s when she began to resent authority so much. I don’t know, I’m not some fancy psychologist, but between the harsh barmaids, the peacekeepers, and me, even me! Well, it doesn’t seem like much of a stretch does it?

Then at five she went to school. She was bright, perhaps a bit cynical from her days in the bar, a questioner; our Serkit was a great favorite with the teachers. She hadn’t completely pulled away from us or authority yet, although she did get in trouble many times for losing her temper with her teachers. She’s always had a bit of fire in her. Then as she began to get older, she had a teacher, don’t remember her name really, who tried to encourage the children in the direction of philosophy. Superfluous to their education of course, and perhaps a bit dangerous, but Serkit picked it right up. Now Serkit was always a bright student. Freakishly bright, she read and worked and searched. I think she was looking for answers. To the philosophy, you know. She made more out of her flimsy education than some rich kids make out of their tutors and governesses. And then, just a few years later, was when she began to pull away. She became sort of cold and distant if you know what I mean sir. Oh, don’t get me wrong, she still had fire in her. Lots of fire. And still that desire to be in control that was so endearing as a child. But she kept it all in check, sir. And every now and then, when it had all been bottled up inside her for a good long time, she just let it out. And the combination is lethal sir! Well, now she hangs out with the rich kids, running around doing Ripred knows what at night. But they’ve accepted her sir, and that’s what scares me, for if she wasn’t yet on the inside I might hope that she wasn’t all lost. No, she’s a rebel now, and her father and I have no more delusions about our little girl. But I’m afraid if you want a more detailed account of her later years you might do best talkin’ to her.

…And listen to them.

So you need to know what kind of person I am…why? Look, I don’t even know what kind of person I am. Who has time for that kind of introspection? Can I go now? Alright, you know what? Here. Let’s start with some facts. You look like some pathetic watchdog trying to make their way up the social ladder. I bet you love facts. So here’s one: It’s much easier to think of yourself than of those around you. But you already knew that. Everyone does, if they’d just freakin’ get off their high horse and live a little. And that’s what I do. I live for the things I enjoy, I mean, hell, what else is there? Can I tell you what I enjoy? I like to make people angry. Like really, brain-splittingly furious. I love the way it wreaks havoc on a person. I love to watch as their carefully studied smokescreen of social grace is blown away by just the right comment at just the right moment. Oh, fancy talk. “carefully studied smokescreen of social grace”? Yeah, I have my moments of brilliance. Whatever. When I want to make people angry, I just stab in the dark. It’s more fun that way. A poke here, a prod there, and then BANG! You’ve hit the lottery. Kind of like that game people say they play in the Capitol, the one where they spin the barrel on a pistol till someone dies.

What do you mean why do I like to see them get angry? I just told you! I think it’s amusing to undo people! Why do I think it’s funny to see them undone? Hell, I don’t know! Look, cut the probing questions okay? I’m very proud of my shallow and unexamined self. I’ve already done that whole soul searching thing before, and you know where it got me? Here. Right here. They told me the unexamined life was not worth living, so I examined, and you know what I saw? Nothing! I saw absolutely nothing. I saw that everything was a lie, that you can’t trust anyone, that all people were basically bad, that the world is meaningless. I saw that anyone who wants to survive in this world is best off not as a scholar, not as a philosopher, not as a politician, nor a hard working man, no, I saw that man is best off if he returns as much to an animal state as possible. Because if a mother bear is threatened, she kills, problem solved. And if a raccoon is hungry, he steals, problem solved. And if a pack of wild dogs is hindered by a weak link they kill him, they’re not hindered by a weakness like loyalty Mr. Whatever-Your-Name-Is. So why do I like to make people angry? Because it makes them like an animal. Because you can’t be proud or superior when you’re angry, anger makes us no different from the animals. There. You got it out of me. And I got angry too. Congratulations. Well, I didn’t say I was level headed. Why do I hate proud and superior people? My gosh, you’re full of questions aren’t you? Isn’t it kind of obvious? Don’t people who act like they’ve got it all figured out irk you? Don’t you hate it when people try to assert authority over you when in reality that authority doesn’t even exist? The only authority I recognize is that of power. And honestly, I could overpower most any “authority” you threw at me.

Oh yes, you’re very sharp aren’t you? Do you want a handshake? That’s sarcasm in case you didn’t pick up on it goody-two-shoes. Do I hate society? What do you think? Society is below my hatred. I disdain it. Next question. My friends? Well, I don’t know if you could call them friends. We hang out and stuff, but we sort of have a silent understanding that we don’t trust each other, and we’re all perfectly entitled to try and kill the others if they get in the way. No of course I’m not the leader. Too much work. Oh, you heard that I make the decisions. Well then, if you heard it, it must be true. Look, I can’t help it if our leader sometimes leans on me for guidance. I give it to him, when he needs it, but it’s not like I’d ever take any initiative. Why do they like me? Pfft, they probably don’t. But I’m good for a little snark and some mindless fun. And when they’re trying to intimidate people…I’m the only one who’s good for subtlety or finesse. I don’t do the whole straight up violence thing. Not most of the time anyway. I do when I need to, but I channel it carefully. Besides, psychological warfare is infinitely more interesting, more powerful too, don’t you think? I mean, you would know wouldn’t you? By now I think it’s pretty clear that your job is to get inside people’s heads. So, we’ve covered my motto, one of my favorite things, a little life philosophy, my opinion of society, my friends…I guess you’ll want to know about my family then. I have a mom and a dad, I’m an only child. They both think I’m some sort of prodigy, or used to any way. They used to think I was some brilliant philosopher. That’s because they never heard my philosophy. They’ve seen how I behave though, so I don’t think they’d say the same thing anymore. I don’t know, Idon’t care, what they think now. My mom used to say that you’d have to be a philosopher to be as miserable as I am, and my Dad recently said I’m so far gone that I can’t help but spout out sad truths about the life I live. Bull. My mom hit closer to the mark, don’t you think? “So far gone”. Please. I’ve come closer to the truth, or realizing the lack thereof, than he ever has. To be honest, not that I usually am mind you, I think that by most people’s standards, they’re good people. Not by my standards of course. There are no good people. Just the people fulfilling their ultimate purpose, and the people wasting their time looking for something more. The ultimate goal is power. And enjoyment. If you’re clever enough to find it. Am I clever enough…..? I’m working on it.

You’re seriously asking me for my opinion of the Capitol? Is this a trick? Right, whatever. It doesn’t even matter because no one can fault me for my opinion of the Capitol. They’re lucky bastards. They spend their whole life with entertainment and enjoyment. And they have power, lots of power. So they’ve fulfilled their purpose. They were just born into it, but I plan to work my butt of to get there. The Hunger Games? Didn’t I just say I’m gonna work my butt of to get there? If no other means arises, sure, I’d volunteer. I certainly wouldn’t complain if I was reaped.

My weaknesses? My fears? Wow, you’re getting down into the nitty gritty aren’t you? I’m not much of an athlete. I don’t have any special talents. I tell idiot interviewers my whole life story. I’m afraid of death. Not seeing it or inflicting it, but actually dying. I fear obscurity and the lack of control. I’m afraid of superstitions and the supernatural. I don’t know why. And I can’t deal with the color pink. And even though you didn’t ask, I’m going to tell you my greatest strength. I’m a cynic. No one, ever, will be able to take me in. I won’t be tricked. The last word will always reside with me.

What? Oh, I thought we were done here. My recent history? All you need to know is that one of the girls I hang out with gave me a good job in the factories. Great pay, don't have to turn up if I don't want to. Her father runs the place. Other than that, I go on...excursions with the gang. Is that all you need? Right. See ya.