Male Tribute from District 2

[Cato is dressed very formally. This should be the first clue that something's wrong because he's reaching for something normal. His uniform looks like This. Shifting from foot to foot he's clearly upset.]

Thank you all for the gifts.

[His tone is stiff, formal. Hands clasped behind his back he's the very image of trying to look like "the man". Trying to reach for the authority that he saw, or sees, is his right.

Even if he was just a sacrifice.]

I'm sorry that I didn't think of anything for all of you but traditionally we in District Two don't offer gifts. Everything that we have we earn in the form of promotions or in the form of benefits from the Capitol. Our district has the highest number of winners, we produce the best soldiers and no matter what we might be missing we still have that to our credit. That we're not bound by giving gifts, we give our lives.

[Never mind how that's all he's good for. And he's realizing that. Never mind how he is trying to find common ground with a bunch of people and realizes that he does not have it.]

And it's not...history or or hope or some stupid childish capitol toy but that's something. We're not like 12 or 10 or one. We're not monsters either and we're not stupid. If we didn't keep the capitol's laws then no one would. Not everyone can have everything. Fancy...useless things. That's how the real world works.

So. You don't have any gifts from me, but...my life. [Not because you deserve it is not said, but heavily implied] even as an inmate. And that's not something useless. It's all I have.

[He doesn't break composure. Instead he nods and turns off the feed. Dignified and correct. Like his father. Like his mother. Like all of the people who ran from all the floods and all the horrors. He turns it off.]

[SPAM FOR BARGE]

[It's so childish and stupid. Walking around London and seeing how people were, then reading all of the other posts on the network and seeing how happy people have been and would be and will be. He hates it. He has things too, he can have a life too and it's a good one.

So he slips into what he was trained to do. What he would have done if he hadn't been chosen for the stupid games. He's meat and that's fine. So here is Cato, still in his uniform standing in a corridor. That's what he does. Stands straight, stands patrol just like his father, his mother, his uncle, and then moves to another corridor.]


[SPAM FOR DYLAN]

[Oblivious, to his histrionic and passive aggressive fit over the network - here is Cato knocking on Dylan's cabin door urgently because he hates himself for not having ancestors or traditions or all of these other things that people have. He's a cog in a machine and he hates it and he's thinking that maybe he hates the capitol too.

But they're all he has, that and this man. Which is why he gets included. The moment he opens the door the soldier straightens.]

I wanted to thank you for the bike personally sir.

[There's a small boy on the feed who is dressed in lose-flowing white clothing, almost military in appearance. He's swinging his feet.]

...I like this place 'cause you don't have to wake up for morning drills all the time and I gots ta sleep but somebody took all of my clothes. [He shrugs in a very "I dunno" gesture"] 'cept for my practice clothes cause I dunno.

Father? Did you take them? [He sounds scared] m-mother?


..'m I supposed to fight? Is that why? [Cato is considering this.] ...Who's my partner?

[Post this, Cato has finally emerged from the common room. and he is...full of unease but playing it cool. Oh so cool]

Are there mutts here?

[he hesitates] Is that part of the rehabilitation process? If inmates get...out of line are they fed or forced to square off against muttations?

[The saddest part about this, barge, is that he is beyond serious. Don't expect anything beyond nods and okays as far as responses go however.]


[Private to Dylan]

...There was...a thing. I thought it was a small mutt but it was just a regular dog I think but...

[and he lets that hang. Because. Dogs. He can't handle it.]

What are things that pre-collapse children did for fun between the ages of 12-18.

The Collapse: During the 2nd attempted occupation of the countries of Iraq, Iran, and the middle east the United States efforts to enforce a world-wide dictatorship with themselves at the head were met with resistance. Nuclear retaliation by the countries of the United Arab Emirates and their allies along with dwindling resources led to the dissolution of the congress at NORAD and any attempts to unite Humanity.

Occupation was considered a necessary evil due to the wildfire devastation that destroyed most of the western coast of the continental united states as well as the earthquakes that split the country. The capitol, harvesting the brightest minds from the think-tank known as Hollywood brought them to NORAD and inland to create a shining utopia of creative thought and ideas.

Due to the greatness of the people brought from the government think-tank Hollywood, they were able to bring back several things and bring a degree of normalacy to displaced refugees who flocked into the areas eventually known as districts.

Basically when everything blew up and the great ones from Hollywood founded the capitol. What did children do for fun.

[PRIVATE TO CASHMERE. Video.]

[Cato has a half-healed cut over his eye] My warden died for me. [He's not sure how he feels about this at all and he wants reassurance it was a bad thing.]


[ooc: Yes folks. Cato's world was founded by HOLLYWOOD~ and reality TV. because when the world ends you're going to grab all the actors and actress but honestly how else do you explain a roman-esque society founded on high fashion?]

[There's a sudden click on the forge and then there's the sound of heavy breathing. Then a shock-a noise-and then a rustle-like clothing moving around. Then a mad scramble and suddenly barge-there's a face.

It's a young face. An attractive face, belonging to a powerfully built young male with short blond hair-matted-absolutely matted with blood and gore. His gaze is wide-eyed.]

...Where's 12?

[he hesitates] Why am I back in my room? Is this-is this another test? Another arena? Or..

[The next part is said half-hopeful, half horrified. Deep down he knows it's not true, and it won't be a particular shock. Still.]

...Did I win?