Writers Games; Alliances

Task 2: Can I Trust You?

Occisora sat at the head of the great glass table. She had made sure this feat was grand even for Capitol standards. The piles of food in the middle of the table were so high you could barely look over them to the other side of the table. The table was long and wide enough for every one to have plenty of room to sit. There would be ample food to take back to the Districts and as a cherry on the cake there were twenty-four chests of supplies for each Tribute's family. They were filled with canned foods and new clothes. The chest for the richer Districts were smaller with less stuff in them. Occisora made sure they were placed in the Tributes rooms with a 'personal' note from her. She felt quite proud of herself. The words of her speech had been so well written she had almost believed them herself. She sat and watched her kingdom, cutting small amounts of food and chewing them thoughtfully. A young girl skipped over to her. The girl smiled widely at her and Occisora smiled pleasantly back.

 “Hello, I am Mira Mathews, District 10 Tribute,” She said, holding out her hand. Occisora eyed it before lightly shaking it. “I'm Occisora Crudelis, Head Gamesmaker,” She said, trying to keep her tone and faceial expression as pleasant as possible.

 “You look pretty and I like your dress,” She said batting her eyelashes. Occisora felt the urge to scowl and snap at her but smiled lightly.

 “So do you, my dear,” She managed to say, “How are you liking the Capitol?”

 “I love it. I just wanted to tell you that I'm something special,” She said, turning on her heel and walking off. Occisora looked down at her dress. Pink had been a good choice. It made her look younger, sweeter and more approachable. She continued to eat before a peacekeeper interrupted her. She shoot him a deadly look hoping none of the Tributes could see her face.

 “What is it?” She snapped, so quietly that no one could hear over the other gamesmaker's chatter.

 “Ms Crudelis, the District 6 escort has quit,” He stammered. Occisora hoped no one noticed how afraid this idiot was of her.

 “Due to Vulcan causing a commotion and embarrassing hger on live television.”

 “Is there anyway she will stick around,” Occisora said, guessing correctly that the escort is female. She frowned trying to remember who the escort for District 6 was.

 “The only way she will stay is if you make sure Vulcan Shrine dies in the bloodbath.”

 Occisora's eyes search the crowd for Vulcan. The look on his face when their eyes meet tell her he heard every word. She wanted to send him a reassuring smile but he was already looking at his plate as if it held the answers to the world. How dare this escort make demands of her. She, Occisora Crudelis, was the Head Gamesmaker. She and she alone decided the fate of these young people.

 The feast broke up when everyone leaned back in their chairs gazing longingly at the half melted remnants of ice-cream on their plates. The tributes went to their rooms and Occisora stood up from her seat.

 “Make sure the lower Districts get more food,” she said to the avox clearing the table.

 “You were serious about that?” Morus asked.

 “When I make a promise I keep it. I am a woman of my word.” She said striding from the room. Morus stared after her for a moment, perplexed.

 “You also said you wanted to make the last moments before the games pleasant,” Morus said, hurrying after her.

 “Beef tastes best when the cow has not seen the knife,” she muttered, “besides, they have enough unpleasant moment awaiting them in the arena.”