It'd been by mere luck, or maybe a miracle, Aelin had made it aboard the jet at all. She'd decided long ago she had no need to impress the capitol, nor their wealthy residents who placed bets like the contestants were some sort of sport. No. They /were/ a sport, to the capitol. They were cards and they were pawns, and the cats who'd chosen to put on a show were playing into it far too much. They were weak. Idiots, Aelin would venture... and maybe she wouldn't have always been so brazen, but she'd found her certain and impending doom made her only more irritable. Her emotions were more real, more /raw/ than she'd ever been in District 3 with her caretakers who always insisted she wear a smile. Possibly it was the company that made her so uneasy. She'd taken drastic measures to ensure she didn't make any connections with the other tributes. If she did, she knew she wouldn't be able to kill them. There it was, that /bluntness/ she simply wasn't used to. And as her name was called - sharp, clear, yet unnatural in the maw of a capitol cat - she didn't care. She didn't know what to expect from this and quite frankly she didn't give a single battle spear what this self-proclaimed 'royalty' by blood relation to /Imperium,/ of all cats, thought of her. "Aelin?" Yet again her name was called, the niece - Cinere, Aelin knew from her introduction - looked a bit bored. Frankly Aelin found it a bit hard to take her seriously, with her fancy sparkles and clear, glittering /wealth/ draped across her pelt like a prized trophy. It was sick, and she betted Cinere knew it... advertising her position, showcasing just how /different/ this princess of Panem was from the tributes. "That's me." Aelin stepped confidently forward, emerging from the shadows. Or rather melting from them, her dark black cape draped across her body and obscuring every detail spare her piercing yellow eyes. A simple look, maybe. But it was exactly what she'd been aiming for. /Take the spotlight./ This wasn't something she was used to. But as the lights and cameras started flashing, Aelin was forced to realize that she was standing exactly in the place she'd sworn to evade ... the center stage. It didn't feel as she'd expected, though. No, being here was... exhilarating. She smiled. Though of course, you wouldn't be able tell with her cape covering both her coat and face. Cinere continued. "Well, Aelin. I must admit I wasn't sure you'd be here. The viewers haven't seen much of you, hm?" She was prying, of course she was. Her job was fanfare, frills and facades. She'd try to make any interview interesting, even one for a tribute who was undoubtedly bound to be boring. "Is that a question?" Aelin drawled, placing her cloaked paws on the table in an almost-threatening gesture. "If I'm not mistaken, you only get three." Cinere didn't look the slightest bit intimidated, only a bit startled and a lot pleased, presumably that she'd answered unexpectedly. Well, that was what the viewers would want, probably... surprises. Luckily for them, Aelin had made the split-second decision to be full of them. "Well, Aelin of District 3," Cinere continued, examining her claws, "I hadn't expected you to be so well prepared, seeing as you're..." she glanced down at a file folder, flipping it open with one bedazzled paw. "You're nothing. There's nothing here on you. Not even listed family or a last name... you don't have a last name?" "It's because I don't have family." Aelin replied flatly. "I've always been on my own. That goes for here, too, Imperium's Niece. Your records might call me Aelin, but whose to say that's my real name?" Again she grinned, hidden by the midnight fabric over her face as she rose, head held haughtily as she mimicked Cinere's own posture. "I'm a shadow." She spun once, pinpointing a singular camera as she spoke again. "A ghost." "Sit, please, then, Ghost." Cinere clipped, though rather than scolding she looked enthusiastic. Excited, possibly... entertained. And if she was entertained, possibly so would the capitol's cats. Stars, this was addicting. This unpredictable, undeterred cat Aelin had never been before. She needed to get out of here, out before she lost herself completely in acting. Out before she became no more than a ritzy facade, just the same as the capitol. So the shadow took her seat, this time wrapping her tail neatly around her paws. "Well, Imperium's Niece," she hissed, snakelike in every way as her yellowed eyes met the interviewer's. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I believe you're at question three." [ cont'd ]
[ cont'd ] Cinere looked taken aback, it was clear enough she hadn't meant either of her earlier remarks to be apart of their discussion. But after a look at Aelin's eyes, she seemed to realize the tribute wasn't about to budge. "Right, then." The show must go on, a motto for not only Cinere but all of the capitol. "Aelin of District three, I present to you your final question. When you get to the Hunger Games." She paused, every bit the dramatic actress set on impressing her uncle. "Who will you go after first?" A good question. Unfortunetly one Aelin didn't know how to answer, after spending so little time with the other tributes. /Okay. That's fine. They don't want a name, anyway. They want a preformance./ So Aelin stepped up once more. Her obsidian outfit swished, brushing the white tiled floor as she made her way carefully, slowly - dramatically - towards one of the rolling cameras for yet another message directly to the viewers. "Hello, Panem!" She called, a purr rising in her throat as she spoke into where she assumed the microphone must me. "Cinere asked me a question, just now, for anyone who missed it... about who I'll be aiming to off first during the tournament." She chose her words carefully, each syllable pronounced clear. Projection, one of those fancy capitol actresses would call it. "Well, I'm afraid I don't have the exact answer you're looking for. As in, I don't have a name. Because I've been thinking far past the Hunger Games." Again she paused. For flair. For fun. Because she could, because Cinere hadn't stopped her yet. She was putting on a show. "Not to when I win, if that's what you're thinking," Aelin gave a sugary little laugh, impossibly sweet and obviously fake. "No... when I die. Because while I'm sure I'll draw blood in the arena, I doubt I'll make it through. So whenever I awake to find myself a /real/ ghost..." her emphasis was lilted, the metaphor of her adopted persona and event absence being played. "I'll be coming back here, to these miserable little districts... to take my revenge. I'll haunt them all.... and I'll start with /you./" Aelin unsheathed her lifted claws for the camera, tearing through her cape in a startling rip of lace. Then she thrust her paw out, pointing her pearly talons straight at Cinere. Waiting only a singular moment she turned back, claws still out, yellow eyes staring straight into the souls of citizens watching all over Panem. "And then..." she whispered, stepping straight up until they'd be able to see nothing more than the blackness of her torn cape against shining eyes, she continued. "I'll come for you next." She rose her paw, claws still out, one final time. And then she swiped them straight across the camera, cutting the feed as the screen shattered into tiny shards all around her. -- WOOHOOO !! I still have several hours before the day's over where I'm at, so fingers crossed this isn't counted late... That being said, this was /so/ much fun. And whoever's seeing this... thank /you/ for reading!
