The jet was no kind place to Cicada. Frankly, it disgusted her - utterly and entirely. Manufactured metal wings that cut through the thick clouds, repulsively ironic for a machine so riddled with death to be the one to fly the tributes through a heavenly place. It made sense, Cicada supposed, the further she thought on it. At least in the Capitol, there was no heaven - only their foul, cheap imitations of such a paradise. As the aircraft landed, however, and the tributes stepped out, there was for a moment peace.. however artificial it was. Surrounded only by foggy marshes and hearing the mud's weary sigh as many paws pressed into it, it felt for a minute like serenity, like the mist were the wings of an angel come to hold them tight. Against its will, Cicada's golden gaze drifted weakly to a tall silhouette stepping off the jet along with the rest of the crowd. /You are still the same silly Cicada all those years ago, moon-eyed with adoration./ In a show of defiance towards the whispers of their own mind, their gaze hardened, and they forcefully set it back to the fog before them - only it was no longer a mass of haze, but a lifeless scene of buildings, cameras, and the smile of an interviewer. .. "Cicada of District Six to the set, please!" Was it her turn already..? The previous interviews had seemed to fly by, but perhaps Cicada hadn't been paying attention - something she silently chided herself for as she walked up to the chair opposing Cinere, the president's niece observing them as they walked onto the set. It could not afford inattention. If Cicada failed to focus in this stage, it certainly wouldn't be last more than a couple days in the arena. "..Hello, Cinere. It's a pleasure to meet you." Cicada mewed first with a polite smile, one she'd quickly been growing accustomed to forcing, as she extended her paw delicately. The other quickly took the gesture of greeting with the same beaming expression she'd worn when they arrived. "Ahh, I remember you!" Cinere exclaimed, eyes shining. "I knew the name, but seeing you now - yes, your act in the parade was so pretty! The wings on your outfit, you've definitely got a clear brand." She giggled. Right.. the foolish circus act they'd participated in. It had left a sickening taste in Cicada's mouth, she recalled, but she only let out a soft laugh along with Cinere's. "You remember! How kind of you." Came her purr, a voice that did not feel like hers. "Oh, certainly! Speaking of..~ I remember the little phrase you used: 'May your vision be crystal clear, lovely citizens!'" Cinere called, holding out her paws as she recreated Cicada's exit. "It's an interesting thing to say, don't ya think?" She then hummed, lowering her paws once more and leaning forward with an inquisitive glint in her eye as the interview began. "Oh? I'm flattered you took such careful notice." Cicada responded coolly, an attempt to manage her pacing as well as steel herself for a suitable response. "I suppose it is. I think many dear watchers are sometimes taken for fools by my fellow tributes.. all will say they're on the side of Panem, but it of course isn't true. I want the Capitol to know I am nothing but grateful for this chance." The tabby answered, turning to address not only Cinere but the cameras, too, for her last sentence. "See us all for what we are, as I know you will, watchers." Cinere's oohing turned the small feline back to face her, its pleasant smile still unfaltering. "Very nice, very nice!" The interviewer replied cheerily but absent-mindedly as she shuffled through some papers, eventually pausing on one with an intrigued hum. "Oh my. Okay, next question.." She trailed off to pick her head up and glance at Cicada curiously, the gleam of some kind of greed once more returned. "Cicada, the info I've got here says you were transferred to District Six only three years ago - how'd that come to be, hmm?" For a moment, all the careful wiring in her mind seemed to freeze, her smile momentarily dropping to be replaced with a blank expression. /Of course./ Of course they knew of that, of course they would question her about it.. after a pause, Cicada merely let out a breathy laugh. "That's correct, Miss Cinere. I was thirteen when I was relocated." It confirmed with a nod, its crystal goggles reflecting the shine of the lights as its head moved. The subtle echoing of information was mostly a stall for time, to come up with anything to say in response that was not the full truth. "..I had the misfortune of thinking I could trust someone dear to me back in District Two. I could not." She simply stated, the gentle smile returning. "So I ended up in District Six. Nonetheless, fate has a way of bringing everything full circle, you know." Cicada gave a teasing wink to the camera, but inside her stomach lurched knowing she spoke of her tragedy as if she were previewing a drama, persuading the watchers to let her live another week for more.. Disgusting.
[continued] "Awhh, no way that's all you're giving us, Cicada!" The girl across from her followed up with a light pout, though her expression seemed to be riddled with a hunger for further details. "I guess you've gotta keep some mystery about you, eh? No worries, I get'cha! Now for your final question of the night.." She returned to sifting through her papers once more, for only a brief moment. Cicada nearly breathed out an exhale of relief while Cinere's eyes were fixed on inked words before remembering the thousands of gazes behind the camera - not until they were off set could they afford to show any sign of vulnerability. "Cicada, it's been noticed by viewers that you've avoided making allies, and turned down any offers. How come?" A much simpler question, than the previous, thankfully. Cicada calmly adjusted her goggles as she began to reply. "Alliances? Alliances only make winning harder." It spoke casually, but a slight undertone of bittersweetness would likely not go overlooked. "I believe emotions and attachment are powerful things, Miss Cinere. By winning these Games, I want to spread Panem's golden beauty.. when it comes time for allies to turn on one another, I cannot let fondness hinder my mission." A brief silence hung, to let linger all that the small tribute had said. Her meaning, her past, her purpose.. all of Cicada had been torn out and put on display for the unblinking eye of the camera. One circus act among many. "Well! Thank you for your answers, Cicada! I know /I'll/ be wondering about them plenty." Cinere finally chirped with a gleeful grin, her tail flicking rhythmically against the chair's leg. "May the odds be ever in your favor." She purred with a wink, returning fully to the superficial and innocent reporter facade. "I appreciate it, Miss Cinere - it was a delight to speak with you.." Some further pleasantries followed, though to Cicada it felt as though only white noise fell out their mouth. All their mind possessed was the urgent and repeated reminder to suppress their trembling, suppress their trembling, suppress their trembling- .. Ah. They were off the set. With the lights no longer searing into Cicada's eyes, it seemed to properly come to consciousness - and finally, she shook. Like a child before a beast, like an insect fallen in the snow, like an autumn leaf succumbing to the winds, she shook.
