So Long, London - F. Creed

[ 3 - anatomy ]

"HIPPITY, HOPPITY, HOW did you fare? Did they greet you like friends or just sit there and stare?" The students shot confused glances at one another as she retrieved the questionnaires. "For those of you who don't know, I'm Dr. Gaul, the Head Gamemaker, and I will be mentoring your mentorships. Let's see what I have to work with, shall we?" She flipped through the papers, frowned, then pulled one out and held it up before the class.

"This is what you were asked to do. Thank you, Mr. Snow. Now, what happened to the rest of you?"

Anemone wanted to say about Mizzen. But she wouldn't, if someone else didn't talk about their tribute first.

"I had good luck with my tribute. She's a talker. But most of the kids wouldn't communicate. And even my girl can't see the point of making an effort at the interview." Coriolanus spoke up.

"Why should they? What does it get them? No matter what they do, they'll be thrown into the arena and left to fend for themselves." Said Sejanus.

Dr. Gaul peered at him. "You're the boy with the sandwiches. Why did you do it?"

"The boy with the sandwiches? What is she talking about?" Clemensia, who appeard to be next to Anemone, whispered. She earned a shrug from her best friend as an answer.

"They were starving. We're going to kill them; do we have to torture them ahead of time as well?" Asked Sejanus. "Huh. A rebel sympathizer," Dr. Gaul grumbled.

"Hardly rebels. Some of them were two years old when the war ended. The oldest were eight. And now that the war's over, they're just citizens of Panem, aren't they? Same as us? Isn't that what the anthem says the Capitol does? 'You give us light. You reunite'? It's supposed to be everyone's government, right?" Sejanus asked.

"That's the general idea. Go on," Dr. Gaul encouraged him. "Well, then it should protect everyone," Sejanus stated. "That's its number- one job! And I don't see how making them fight to the death achieves that."

"Obviously, you don't approve of the Hunger Games," Dr. Gaul assumed. "That must be hard for a mentor. That must interfere with your assignment."

Sejanus paused for a moment. Then he sat up straight, seeming to steel himself, and looked her in the eyes. "Perhaps you should replace me and assign someone more worthy."

"Not on your life, boy," Dr. Gaul cackled. "Compassion is the key to the Games. Empathy, the thing we lack. Right, Casca?" She glanced at Dean Highbottom, but he remained silent, fiddiling with a pen.

"Now, wouldn't it be wonderful if everyone in the audience felt as passionately about the tributes as this young man here? That should be our goal." Dr. Gaul stated.

"No," Dean Highbottom spoke up. "Yes! For them to really get involved!" Dr. Gaul argued. She struck her forehead, "You've given me a marvelous idea. A way to let people personally affect the outcome of the Games. Suppose we let the audience send the tributes food in the arena? Feed them, like your friend here did in the zoo. Would they feel more involved?"