78th Hunger Games Victor Presentation Ceremony

78th Hunger Games Victor Presentation Ceremony May 2, 2018 17:41:51 GMT -5

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Post by Baby Wessex d9b [earthling] on May 2, 2018 17:41:51 GMT -5

The president of Panem stood on the magnificent stage in the City Circle, addressing his people as he had done numerous times before. Another of his prized Hunger Games had come to a close. As usual, they had been an enormous success; enough blood, death, and tragedy to satisfy the viewers, and also to subdue the thoughts of rebellion that the high government official knew were brewing in the minds of some of Panem's citizens.

The last several years had taught him one thing: set his expectations low. So when, in the Training Center, it became obvious the Careers were fragmenting, he watched - and did not hold his breath. At night, when he poured over his notes from games and fell asleep watching the recap videos, he did let traitorous, fickle hope into his heart. It seemed, after all, too good to be true that Euley Sarasin would be so perfectly matched to the arena.

All reports from his spies about the Gamemakers came back positive. Azazel suffered but worked harder in his suffering. Nilima had an old soul, careful insights, and a curious dating life that might possibly be used against her if things ended badly. Zaya was the senior of the set, capable, if completely impossible for him to understand. Fine Gamemakers. He even found himself chuckling at the ski race setup and watched the entire event live, despite his many other obligations.

But in the end, as it had been since Justice Fray snatched the Seventy-Third crown, disappointment. So many worthy candidates, from Isaac Jacobi to Exar Shan, gone. There was no district he disliked more than Twelve; the thought of presenting a crown to the lowest district bothered him immensely. As he strode onto the stage, he fingered the white rose of his lapel. If it happened to brush the inside of the crown, well, these things sometimes happened.

President Snow quieted the crowd and prepared to speak. "Ladies and gentlemen, I'm pleased to welcome you to the victor presentation ceremony of the Seventy Eighth Hunger Games!" As usual, there was the deafening roar of approval that followed. "Tonight we will show a recap video of this year's Games, so be sure to stay tuned!" Like they have a choice, the president thought. The recap video was required viewing for all of Panem.

Snow went on to announce the prep team, stylist, escort, and mentor of the victor; all were received with tremendous applause. But then, the moment they were all waiting for... Snow plastered a smile across his face before speaking once more. "And now, may I present the victor of the 78th Hunger Games... Stella Blakesley!"

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OOC- RPing is permitted in this thread by Capitol characters and past victors. This is the place to have your Capitol character react to viewing the recap video, if you planned on doing that. All characters from other districts can create their own threads in the districts, if they wish. Also, apologies for the delay in getting this up!

78th Hunger Games Victor Presentation Ceremony May 4, 2018 17:32:50 GMT -5

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Post by alex 🐺 on May 4, 2018 17:32:50 GMT -5

s t e l l a blakesley;

The nightmare replayed itself over each night, a different person falling to the ground by her hand. Aeson was always the one to spit at her feet after he had fallen, his blood turning the snow black in the waning light. Euley, Euley shone bright as she fell. The wolf who wore the crown and Stella sitting perched on a throne of bones, a pile of ivory. Raven was perhaps the hardest to relive and Stella prayed to the gods that her dreams would not be poisoned with his face before she went to sleep. He was always pleading, his words wrapping around her like a comfort.

She had spent too many nights in the Capitol, wide awake in the corner of the balcony in the apartment given to her before she was to begin her Victory Tour. Tomorrow was the Victor Presentation Ceremony - delayed no doubt because of the utter disappointment that a Victor from District Twelve elicited for the squealing masses of Capitolites who bet good money on the Euleys and the Isaacs of Panem. Never the Stellas.

Her face had been healed by the graciousness of President Snow - his playthings were not allowed to be permanently scarred, you know. All of the gashes that she had suffered in the Arena erased, but the darkness she gave rise to, the ash that her heart and bones turned into, no amount of science could ever hope to salvage. She rose quickly from the corner of the balcony to vomit over the edge - after eating once in nine days in the Arena, nothing would stay down and the IVs of nutrients seemed to only make her feel weaker. She was alive - a shell, but alive.

They say the crown is always heavy, but they never tell you how it wears you down like a stone around your neck and leaves you begging for a gulp of air. They never tell you how it will snap your wings and rein you in, how it will take from you like a proper thief. She shares this immortality with the others - the leftovers of the Games - those brutal enough to survive as their allies were killed, crawling on the bones of others to be granted passage back to a place that was foreign to them. Stella wonders if they too feel everything that the crown has already taken from her. Her love, her heart, her freedom, whipping past her like the breeze through the forest that she hasn’t touched in what feels like years.

But she is grateful. The countless strangers that tried to rob her of her new found glory that she never once asked for, how they tried to decorate their own crowns with the jewels stolen from her veins and the veins of others. How they all failed in the end, how each scar, each gash, each drop of blood and tear in her skin was a new day granted to her. A new day in which their knives, spears, and teeth missed her lifeline.

She fell asleep in that dark corner of the balcony, only waking when the sun rose above the tall buildings and the knock came from her door of the stylists needing to dress her for the event that morning. The stylist shook her head at the bags under her eyes, his hands cupping her newly healed cheeks, the tuts he made barely audible. She knew she looked like Hell - she had been there, after all.

"And now, may I present the victor of the 78th Hunger Games... Stella Blakesley!"

Snow made his speech, the barely contained boredom and animosity dripping through his words before he placed the crown upon her head and she turned and waved to all of the cameras, as practiced dozens of times by the staff in the days leading up to the ceremony. The cheers were loud, defeaning as Stella's vision swam before her eyes and she swallowed down a wave of nausea.

She was being treated as divine - a creature of worth, but she knew it would all fade away in time. She was far from divine - killing the bloodlines and tearing the hearts out of the district’s best, knee deep in aortic blood on the last days, wearing the fur of the wolf and carrying Aeson’s weapons. She had viscera in her teeth but she would still smile, the monster lurking underneath, risen from the depths to smile and wave at the assembled crowd. She was everything that the Capitol had wanted from her - what it demanded and what it invited in.

She was loved, she thought, despite all the bloodshed she had caused. Flowers laid at her doorstep every day, but she threw them all out of the window. They had prayed for her safety, her salvation, but it was them who had made her fall. She hates the adoration, but a small part of her cherished it - her heart ached to return home, to see her father.

As she bowed her head and sat back down, the recap video began to play. She kept her head cask downwards, eyes off the screen. There was no need to relive it again, especially when Stella saw it all in her dreams each night.