[warning: long] it was, the same. the cold and quiet waiting room, the same atmosphere of… nervousness? anticipation? who knew. because for all they knew, they could possibly have a chance at… life? it felt stupid, the ghosts did not fully leave, the victor did not fully win. therefore, an odd request was placed, for the designer to do their job differently. a ghost for victor? albeit a living one. they were the last and being the last you have the eyes to watch everyone else and no eyes to watch you. paint and powder, two things they'd commonly used. it was supposed to be only one, but this was not oil and water, it was water and steam. strangely enough the different cold of the paint compared to the room was comforting. the mirror looked like a neon blue tiger. the designer motioned to stop moving in front of the pool of glass, dimming the lights a bit. the swirls glowed, some hallucinating effect of a stream of blue stars stranded far away in some alien world. this was not the same designer and they chose not to talk at all. creo themselves returned the quiet. the patterns were not all. two neatly folded translucent wings, those of some story dreamt creature, "a dragon". the sheets of blue fitted almost perfectly into their fur, and even followed the movement of the bone underneath. and the blue flame, the false flame that still dared to burn clipped to their tail and limbs. then passed a strange mask, the color of snow and water. the surface just like polished ice that would never melt. and that was strange because everything else said 'burn' and this said 'freeze'. it did not matter though, as they bent their ears to fit into the hollow horns. the, background noise, was, severely amplified. it was dizzying when they could already hear the small noises and now they could hear the tiny noises. and it was the loud noises out there on the stage. 'not now, not now.' at least sight from under the mask was the same despite the black material within it. they opened and closed their mouth and the strange thing followed along, a ink spill of a single crack with teeth like points along it. 'almost like the real thing if it were real.' they, they waited, and paced around. the designer had disappeared now that their job was done. hm. "the dragon", the fictional creature which reminded them of the stories told at 'home', at night, by their friends. it was still distant but it was there and they would not forget. 'never thought i'd ever become it myself.' but as the seconds were swept away by the hands of the clock, their own voice was overpowered by the one that was always there, every time, the one that changed, the one that was not their own. they had used it like a crutch on both previous events, and that crutch had not broken yet. surely it would not break this time. third time's the charm, they were told. but the volume of noise outside was twice as loud as it needed to be. it was supposed to not have empty and full halves. but it was completely full like normal but even with the distorted noise. but they wanted to go and see. but they had not been called yet. they jumped onto the ledge, the costume hardly a problem as the featherlight wings bended to fit in the narrow space. the cat below them was /lighted/ on real fire and the temperature was inching up. why is the only thing the crowd knows how to do is scream? the cat was the same one who they had tricked at gamemakers. that did not matter now, as they twisted a sprinkler and it spat out more water than it already was. that stopped it. fire was no more, but the cat was not /conscious/. and then they were whisked away by those which were supposed to help and that was the end of it. the crowd reeling from the shock, the time seemed to slow again. and slowly the ceiling stopped raining. now, now they could see who they were going to talk with. a blue furred cat. their fur did not looked dyed but seemed truly blue, but the blue tail with strings of pearls was clearly fake and questionable. even capitol cats have things to hide sometimes? 'everyone, please calm down. we only hast one interview left…' ah, this was also the one that spoke weird. that was not good, especially their inability to listen to accents coupled with the noise distortion. '…and our last tribute of the day is known as creo, from district 12.' not immediately. never immediately. 'it looks like they are late. we wait for-' the room was filling with smoke. right on time. and as it cleared they found themselves on the chair where everyone else before them had sat. 'ah, thou are a sneaky one.' 'mine name is abalodysidon aquasinger,' 'although i am also known as abby.' 'shall we get to our first question?' they did not like the barrage of speaking. 'thou hast quite the outfit there… ' 'doth thou mind telling us about it?' maybe a little edit to the fake voice they would be taking on. ['bold of you to assume this is an outfit, eh?']
cont ^ ['although it is of my own design.'] the audience laughed, taking it as a joke. they were, this stupid to not get what they were trying to do. whatever. 'that is a strange answer, although it is acceptable.' 'hmm… what doth thou regard of the upper districts?' eh, hehe. ['do you think it is about the district? there are many from the upper districts that are actually kind instead of treating the lower districts like leftover bones, and there are those from the lower districts who /are/ leftover bones.' 'maybe someone thinks i'm leftover bone /dust/ or something, but that doesn't matter when you're given the chance to do whatever you want to prove yourself in life anyways.' '…or afterlife, which i'm probably failing already.'] why does the crowd take everything as a joke? oh well. they shifted the wings just to give the slightest hint of movement as if the material would actually come to life. 'that is yet another strange but entertaining answer,' 'what hast thou been enjoying about thy new surroundings 'i the capitol?' ['honestly, it's not easy to get used to, but the ability to be able to observe the tributes is… interesting, to say the least. you don't know what kind of cat they were until you know them and the more you know, the better.' 'although i don't need the premade weapons or food where i'm going or where i am,' 'because i can literally go anywhere i want.'] 'and why is that?' 'how may you hie anywhere thou desire?' ['i'll let you think about it for a second. i don't sound like creo at all, the answer to your second question was probably true, and i /can/ go anywhere i want.'] 'ah, yet thou doth answer mine questions.' hmph, this blathering idiot refuses to guess. at least the crowd is whispering. 'hast thou met anyone thou recognise?' what? what kind of question was that?? ['is there anyone new that isn't recognizable after you've either met them or sat through watching their reapings, gamemakers, and interviews?' '/you/ and some of the audience is quite recognizable at this point. i've been here for so long anyways.'] the audience was awfully loud when acknowledged… 'that was not what i meant. hm, haply myself should say… what tributes hast thou met directly?' ['i'm sure many others have already mentioned me.'] 'hmm…' 'doth thou hast any regrets thou would thou could undo?' ['… seriously? you can't turn back time. what is there to regret? life isn't fair.' 'but death is fair.' 'look, you finally figured it out. they're late and you just had a ghost waste about 15 minutes of your precious interview time. hehe.'] 'i do receive not thou. now is not the time to be playing funny pranks on us-' ['do you not believe me? let me show you something.'] and in addition to their costume was a carefully crafted holographic wall, made as a perfect camouflage over a second entrance to the waiting room. so they stood up, stretched their wings out fully, and looked directly at abby. hollow, gaping holes. and split open that gaping crack in the mask again. and walked right through the wall, leaving only a trail of particles behind. they could hear the shocked sounds of the crowd. so they removed everything along with the wings and folded them neatly back into the same spot. except for the mask. that had another purpose. and walked back out the real entrance, the smoke blasting out again. they ran to the seat and shoved the thing under it. 'thou are late. most late.' 'some ghost hath been messing with us for the past fifteen minutes, and we only hast so little time left.' 'i assume thou are the real one?' much more clearer. alright. normal voice. 'yes.' 'doth thou prefer to fight with weapons or with moe natural methods?' 'ah, that depends on what you would classify it as.' 'you see, the lone hunter does not hunt alone. the forest hunts with them but they must make use of it.' 'i'm quite familiar with traps. not everything should be head on weapons and direct combat. sometimes all you need is a lure and some baiting and the fish will come to you.' 'that is a good answer. considering thy near perfect score on thy gamemakers, methinks we guess what thou may hast done.' '…' 'haply thou could say to us about thy past? thy friends or family?' 'honestly… i don't know. i'm only twelve and was pretty lucky to have met my friends. i never knew any of my family, for all we know I could have died on the streets. but you know, we're just kind of like family too. i spent most of my life on the streets. i did destroy and steal. but what can you do? the streets test how well you can survive.' we. are. not. going. to. tell. them. about. the. incident. cover it up. 'oh, if you really want to know, auz from district 12 is one of my friends.' 'alright, that should'st conclude our last session for the day-' 'but i have something more to say.' they took the mask out and held it over their head. ['did you enjoy the show?'] a elaborate setup of "the dragon." smiling, they left.
