The 1st Writer Games: Powers

Interview Response (Males)

INTERVIEW RESPONSE (MALES)

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.: Jasper Vaz-Merille - District 1 :.

Here we go.

The stupid tie feels like it’s choking me, but other than that I’m comfortable. My suit is just simple, really – I think my personality stands out enough – but Carabina thought to add some glittering jewels, though by the look of it, no actual jasper. After a quick inspection, only about half of them are fake. I guess tributes deserve the best.

“Jasper!” exclaims Cinnamon, “Now, clear something up for us. How do you pronounce your last name?”

I grin warmly, waving a hello to the crowd. “It’s Vatz – Merray,” I tell her, “And you’d better start getting it right soon; how embarrassing would it be to keep pronouncing a victor’s name wrong?!”

The crowd love this. Cinnamon accepts the confidence with a nod; she’s seen it before. The stage lights are warmer than expected. I hope it’s not obvious I’m sweating. That would ruin this carefully planned look.

“So, Jasper Vatz-Murray,” she drawls, and a voice in the crowd shouts up to correct her, “Was that okay?”

“Close enough,” I reply with a friendly grin. I’m not waiting for her to get it right. The tributes watch my carefully. I know at least two of them like me enough to be allies...

“I’ll just call you Jasper, then. Do you like it here, Jasper?? And what’s the best part?”

“Good question!” I retort, thinking quickly. My answer needs to flatter but not be sycophantic. I don’t want to come across as a driveller, I want to come across as me. “Well, I’d have to say it would be the lovely ladies” – cheers and whistles from the crowd, so I blow them a quick kiss – “But I haven’t had the chance to see any! I’ve been cooped up inside the building, with just this lot for company!” I gesture back to my fellow tributes. A few of the girls look unhappy at the insinuation that the Capitol girls are prettier than them. All apart from the girl from 3, who just looks vaguely surprised, and the girl from the Capitol who is grinning smugly. Her partner gives me a worrying thumbs-up.

“Good answer to a good question!” Cinnamon counters, “So let’s see how you handle this one; what’s your motivation for the games?”

“Simple, really,” I shoot back, “Not dying.”

The crowd laugh, though I’m deadly serious. Cinnamon pats me on the hand with a warm smile, “Come on, Jasper, give us something to work with here! You volunteered, so there must be a reason.”

Ugh. The truth sounds too much like a sob story for me to be comfortable with it. But I may as well tell them. You never know.

“All my life I’ve been second best,” I tell her fiercely, switching temperament in a flash, “Whatever I’ve done, there’s always been one person better than me. So I guess it’s about proving myself to the good folks back home. There’s no motivation stronger than a selfish one like that.”

Wow. That sounded almost wise. The crowd bursts into cheerful applause. Cinnamon nods, her hair quivering. “Right, so, next question...your tribute score! Give us some hints, come on!”

I shake my head, glad that I don’t have to talk about blinding myself. If I got a 10 after that, I must have been good. But I don’t want them to see that potential weakness, so I just shrug. “It’s nothing. I mean, loads of us got 10s. No offense, you guys” – the boy from 5 snarls at me; he got an 11 like the girl from 3 – “But when all of us scored so highly, doesn’t that take something away from it? No, I’m happy with my score. And no, I’m not telling you how I got it!”