❝𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐀❞ ━ TREECH

02. rigged

She can’t help but think of Coriolanus at this very moment. Whenever he calls him “High-as-a-kite-Bottom '' behind his back, it always manages to get a few laughs out of their classmates. It’s unfortunately true though. Years and years of heavy morphling consumption have taken a toll on Highbottom. According to her parents, he was once rather athletic and somewhat popular but after the creation of the Hunger Games, all that went down the drain.

“Select students, faculty,” he speaks and spins around, finally facing in the direction of Dr. Gaul. He points towards the head gamemaker, “And of course, Dr. Gaul. I have summoned all of you here today for the 10th annual reaping ceremony, in which we choose two children from each district and throw them into the Capitol arena to fight to the death in the Hunger Games.”

Junia really doesn’t need that reminder. She can hear Clemensia in front of her mumbling something along the lines of “I can’t believe they still allow him to speak in public” and she silently agrees. His voice could probably lull anyone to sleep. That aside, she always gets the feeling that Highbottom would rather be anywhere else but the Academy. She can’t blame him.

She watches as he walks up and towards the podium at an almost snail-like speed. Clearly he’s not in a hurry to get this done and over with. “And here sit our twenty-four top prospects, all waiting to hear the results of years of hard work at this prestigious institution, eager to learn who has won the Plinth Prize, no doubt,” he continues and then pauses. “However, I am here to tell you that there has been a change this year.”

That catches Junia’s attention. She exchanges a confused glance with Lyssie, both girls shrugging and slightly uncomfortable by the idea of a change being made spontaneously. Whatever is different this year, it can’t be good if it has been cooked up by the Academy or anyone that has a say in the Capitol.

“There will be one final assignment this year, one to prove your worth because, as you might know, the esteemed citizens of the Capitol have grown bored of the Games and simply aren’t watching them anymore,” Highbottom says.

Honestly, Junia thinks that’s a good thing. But things rarely go her way here anyway. She tenses up, anxious to hear what is awaiting her and her classmates. A part of her doesn’t even want to hear the answer but she forces herself to listen.

“If the Games are to continue at all, there must be an audience. So, head gamemaker Dr. Gaul has stepped in to incentivize patriotic values with her own unique flare, starting with you,” Highbottom says. Finally at the front, he turns around and continues speaking, “The Plinth Prize will no longer be determined by who has the best grades.”

Junia freezes. She can hear gasps and confused muttering in front, next to and behind her but she’s still a bit lost.

“Whatever this is,” she hears Lyssie mumble, “it can’t be good.”

She nods in silent agreement.

Cas leans forward to look past Arachne who only utters an irritated “Excuse me?” in response to Highbottom’s words. He searches for Sejanus’ gaze for confirmation but he keeps his head down, making Cas lean back in his seat once more. He anxiously runs his fingers over his tie.

“This year, the Plinth Prize will go to whoever is the best mentor in the Hunger Games.” Aware that he has dropped quite the bomb on the students, Highbottom makes sure to explain further before chaos breaks out. “This is a brand new role. As the reaping progresses, I will allocate each district tribute a Capitol mentor. Someone behind the scenes who must… persuade them to perform for the cameras.”

Junia’s heart sinks momentarily and she needs to swallow so she doesn’t gasp out loud. She takes a deep breath and can almost feel herself growing pale. She looks over at Lyssie who seems equally as confused and unenthusiastic about this idea.