Hello, and welcome to the 80th Hunger Games, my wonderful avid readers!
It is ElementalEvolution here, and this is my first SYOT. I felt like doing one, and I have been told that I am good at writing in other people's POV's, so I thought I would test myself with 24 different views!
This story is closed, but you are welcome to read it! I'd be grateful for anyone to follow my writing from beginning to end :D
Luca Fawkes, Twenty-Four, Head Gamemaker POV
Black, highly polished shoes touch the white carpet. A suit of metallic blue shimmers in the electric lights. Eyes, burning like molten gold in a hot furnace. A square jaw, high cheekbones, tanned skin. Hair trimmed short, not a single hair out of line, glowing a literal gold. Sparkling white teeth, peeking out from beneath smiling lips.
Me. Luca Fawkes. The new Head Gamemaker. And I am loving it. That last idiot did a crap arena, and look where it got him. I mean, come on! Wheat fields for an arena? Boring. And he was a prat too. And the Gamemaker before him…Pluto Heaventree or something? And the dumbass before him too – the one who let that girl get away with the berry trick. They were all idiots. Lucky I was there to step up the game.
I wink at the hot secretary as she walks past in her black skirt and white blouse. She flushed red and drops her files on the floor, before scrambling to scoop them up. I don't bother looking back. I'll get her later.
I turn the corner and arrive at the Presidents office. The pristine white door competes with (and loses to) my pearly whites as they disappear behind my closing lips. The interview about the arena may have gone well, but the President needs seriousness, not overconfidence and cockiness. I knock three times on the door, and wait for a few seconds before I am let in.
I inspect the room with a small polite smile on my face, although I desperately want my full boyish smile to make its reappearance. The room is a deep scarlet accompanied by more white carpet. One of the room's walls is a floor-to-ceiling window which overlooks the tall sparkling buildings of the Capitol in the warm afternoon sun. In front of said window, is a desk made from polished black obsidian, holding a few photo frames with smiling faces, and other meaningless personal items. The President; Coriolanus Snow, sat calmly behind his desk, staring at me with his cunning icy orbs, twisting a perfect white rose in between his crinkled fingertips.
"Luca," he says calmly. "Please, sit down,"
I obey him silently, my face relaxed and calm. Unlike many others, this man did not scare me. What could an old man do to a sexilicious guy like me? Bombard me with roses? Hit me with his nightcap?
"You called for me, President?" I say, smiling.
"Yes Luca, I did," replies the President. "First of all, congratulations on becoming the new Head Gamemaker,"
"Thanks," I answer, smirking slightly.
"Judging by your expression, you look happy to be in that position," says President Snow. "That means I have a motivated Head Gamemaker. Hopefully, you will do better to please me than Debra did last year,"
"Yes Mr. President," I reply. "I have a particularly deadly arena conjured up this year. It will easily boost the interest of the Capitol and keep the Districts cowering in fear,"
"Excellent," President Snow tells me. "Because if you fail, you will regret it,"
He reaches over to the hologram and switches it on. An image immediately pops up, taking on the shape of a laughing young boy, playing around with toy swords, chasing other boys through green grass and vibrant bluebells. The boy is around twelve or thirteen, with dark golden hair and green eyes, both of which glint away under the setting sunlight.
Antiseptic fluid gathers through the eye ducts in my eyes, creating a blur that I have to blink away. My irises dilate in sorrow and worry over the small boy, and the deep colour of my eyes reflects my sudden feeling of homesickness.
Oh how I wish that I could see them once more. To breathe in the sweet scent of the white honeysuckle that grows on the walls of our home, to move into the stroking limbs of the suns rays as the heat and the breeze dances lazily over my face. I haven't gone back in nearly a year. I missed Christmas.
"Kile," I say, the name of my younger brother having been unspoken upon my lips for a while. There is an unexpected lump in my throat, but I cough it away.
"I expect it to be a good arena," warns President Snow.
"It will be," I confirm, still watching Kile play with his friends. I haven't seen my family for so long. After this is finished…I'll see if I can visit for a week or two.
"It will be the best of them all," I mutter, the water in my eyes reflecting a spectrum of light. A single and lonely tear falls, the light still shining through it as it tumbles through the air in an almost motionless fashion. The tear represents me. Lonely. The one who needs to go back home. I am the lost boy. And I want to be home again, in the hot stuffy kitchen that smells of freshly baked cupcakes, or the garden that smells of damp and fresh earth. Even the warmth of my mothers hug has long left my broad shoulders, forgotten and unlikely to return. I need Kile and my mother to be happy. I need to see them. These children need to provide the best show ever, or I am done. Kile…I promise I will make it back home to you. No, I won't promise. Because I know I will.
The tear lands on the carpet, where I suspect that many other tears have fallen, but right now, my tear is the most important. Kile and Mum are the most important. To me, they are everything.
Mum, please keep Kile safe…
It looks like I am going to need to add some finishing touches to my arena.
This year's Games is really going to have to be more vicious than the last. And I am one of the players. I'm afraid of this old man now. What will he do? He could just click his fingers, and my whole world would come crashing down.
I cannot afford to fail.
Or the President will destroy my soul.
"You are dismissed Luca," President Snow decides, obviously thinking that a threat on Kile's life was enough to make me become compliant. And it was. I leave the room, sliding my seductive smile back on my face. My good mood has been dampened by the President. I'll show him. For Mum…and for Kile.
I strut into the Gamemakers room, the Gamemakers sitting there in their little white suits and playing with their holograms and fancy gadgets.
"Right!" I shout to them. "Let's get this arena done and this show on the road!"
That was just a little starter for you all XD
What do you think of Luca Fawkes? Bless Kile…
I'll update soon XD