excising the rot from within // josephine, speech

This is the part of the campaign that she does not like. The part dedicated to pageantry and promises, where words and posture and everything that could possibly be critiqued about her can and will be.

There are two reasons that she does not particularly care for them. One, is the above, but on steroids. Networks covering her speeches and rallies will criticize her manner of speaking at every pause, the way she dresses and how it isn't the latest fashion trend in the capitol, and so much more that detracts from the message that she's trying to put out there. And the second? Well, that's really quite simple. Why should she spend time talking in front of people who largely had their minds already set in stone, why should she boost up her own accolades (a significant task for a woman who had found herself continuously humble over the decades) when she could be out in the district doing stuff that contributed more towards her overall goal and society?

But, she'd signed up for this haul not because it was going to be easy, but because it was necessary. Someone had to take the reigns of power from Calliope Bloom. And uprooting a weed that had had ten years to bury its roots took more than the bare necessities to achieve.

That was how she found herself, standing in front of a crowd of far too many people to count - people who were looking towards her to grant them salvation.

And by Ripred, she would sure as hell try.

"My friends," she began, all too aware of how her voice, magnified a hundred fold, echoed across the suddenly quiet crowd. "Fellow citizens of Six."

Was that too redundant? Oh well. No matter how she spoke, whatever narrative she spun, there would be someone who would pick it apart, tearing into the most superficial flaws.

So she continued, getting straight to the point.

"District Six is in the middle of a crisis. Our home is in the middle of a crisis." She paused, taking a breath. What seemed like half of the district watched her intently with bated breath. "For the last decade, we've found ourselves subjected to the whims of an apathetic mayor, someone who has proven time and time again that the interests of her people - the interests of us - come second to her own ambition."

She paused again, gazing out over the faces. Rapt attention, mixed in with some emotion. "And what good has the ambitions of Calliope Bloom done for us? Has her own focus on herself translated into benefits for us, the everyday working people who gift people like her the fruits of our hard-working labor?"

And anger filled her voice, thinly lacing each words with a long-held bitterness that had festered for decades, freshly reopened by the events of the previous year. "A mayor that has done nothing in ten years to help the very people who every day struggle just to survive does not deserve to enjoy those fruits that she's exploited. A mayor that cares not for the people she is supposed to help ease the burdens of does not deserve to rest on her laurels and relax in opulence while the district starves in its search for a new meal." Another deep breath - and oh, what a great idea it was to hire a speechwriter who could write all of this stuff so much better than she could speak it - "And leader who cares naught for the destruction of a hospital in her own home is not someone that is fit to lead."

Finally she extends a hand forward, palm facing the sky, as if she was pointing out a painting on a wall. "I am but one person in this movement, my friends. I am but one woman who decided to look upon the suffering of the people, and decide that enough was enough. But I am not alone. I have all of you. And it is only together that vote out this blight on our society, this apathetic person who calls herself mayor while caring naught for you, and ensure that future generations will find their paths eased instead of burdened."

She gazed upon the crowd one last time, seeing her own fire reflecting in every pair of eyes that she found. "Together, we will fight to ease the burdens of the suffering. Together, we will change the future!"

Okay, she admitted. Hearing the cheers was kind of gratifying. And reassuring.