⠀A few people in District 9 to 12 inside of their houses shut off their television, tuned down their radios. Then there's Nero Flickerman, the host and weatherman from the Capitol, standing behind a green screen with his mic, telling watchers to stay tuned for one of the biggest events of the year. He's owned that title for a couple of decades, so far.
⠀"With sunny weather all throughout District 4, we can move onto sunnier pastures," it was a chuckle from the blond's mouth, appreciating his own dry humor. "That's right, this year will be the one-hundred-and-twenty-fifth anniversary of the Hunger Games; that means the sixth Quarter Quell is approaching. It's so exciting!"
⠀As elated as the man was on television, there weren't as many happy faces around the districts: More specially from seven to twelve.
⠀Echoing through the nation, the Capitol anthem, "Horn of Plenty," plays on with its overconfident melody. It echoed fresh in everybody's mind; lyrics not needed for this announcement, though they were distant in memory.
⠀'Oh, Horn of Plenty ... One Horn of Plenty for us all.'
⠀The screen shifted from everyone's favorite weatherman to the Presidential White House. Or somewhere like it. It was never certain if it was anymore, with President Bacchus always being so paranoid. He hardly ever gave away his position unless during the annual Hunger Games.
⠀President Bacchus takes the stage, followed by a young girl dressed in all white, decorated in a dress; her clothing contrasted the middle-aged man's. Perhaps she's even young enough to still be in the Games. The girl holds a simple wooden box in her hands that were oddly still, her gaze far away. Still, there was a flicker of nervousness in her juvenile features.
⠀Televised through the nation, President Bacchus resided on the screens and projections throughout the districts. As usual, his black hair with streaks of silver had been slicked back. For someone living in the Capitol, he was much more conservative seeming, in style, compared to most citizens there. He wore a casual suit, a sleek black; there was a red poppy flower in the pocket boutonniere.
⠀After a few moments, the anthem ends.
⠀President Bacchus goes on to speak, to remind everyone of the Dark Days. Why the Hunger Games were born, why the Games were necessary. Always the same message, at least at first. What really caught everyone's attention was his following sentences after his repeated, annual speech.
⠀"Ladies and gentlemen: This is the 125th year of the Hunger Games." And the crowd of ignorant Capitol citizens would roar with excitement. "It was laid out in the charter of the Games that for every 25 years, the anniversary would be marked by a Quarter Quell."
⠀Quarter Quell: Those two simple words always get a rise from the crowd. Their cheers and applause always sickened a majority of the districts.
⠀Bacchus would continue his speech, voice smooth. Certain. "...To keep fresh for each new generation the memory of those who died, and the uprising against the Capitol. Each Quarter Quell is distinguished by games of a special significance. We celebrate the sixth Quarter Quell, as a reminder that Panem is a body, and the Capitol is the heart. We would be nowhere without our districts, of course; and it is a great honor, perhaps the greatest, to be a part of our games."
⠀More cheery shouts erupt from the crowd.
⠀"Even the strongest cannot overcome the power of the Capitol," Bacchus adds, quoting his predecessors.
⠀The young girl takes a few calculated steps forward, the sound of her footsteps inaudible with how loud the crowd was. But, it became suddenly quiet. She held out the box, her hands carefully shifting the lid open. Inside revealed letters. Envelopes.
⠀All were yellow with age. Not strikingly yellow, but noticeably old and slightly wrinkled. Whoever had set the Quarter Quell system into play had planned for centuries ahead.
⠀Bacchus slips his hand into the box, then pulls back once he'd grasped one of the folded envelopes. The outside had been marked, in the darkest black ink, 125. With his slender fingers running along the edge of the aged paper, he gently lifted the flap and pulled out a square paper from inside.
⠀Those greying eyes of his scanned over the sheet of paper and a slight glimmer, emotion reached his eyes. Not his mouth though, not quite.
⠀"On this, the fifth Quarter Quell game: Districts are to offer up eight male and female tributes, creating a total of 96 tributes!" He announced. There was this cocky smirk resting on his face. It was almost too subtle to see, but not invisible. "To be fair, I've considered other options and decided there will also be 6 victors."
⠀With one last knowing grin, President Bacchus offered the camera a grin, "Happy Hunger Games! May the odds be ever in your favor." He'd raised his champagne glass to the sky.
⠀And the screen faded to dark blue, the Capitol's symbol appearing along with the concluding anthem.
⠀⠀⠀Panem today. Panem tomorrow. Panem forever.
✷
𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑫𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑻 : 872 ❪ chapters get longer as story progresses, 3,000-6,000 words ❫ 𝑳𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑫𝑰𝑻𝑬𝑫 : 12032023
