With fingers almost trembling, Cecil moves to pull up the Tribute profiles on the tablet. Enjolras' friends have left his mind entirely. He scrolls through the photographs almost too quickly to catch individual faces, but somehow brings it to an abrupt halt in just the right place - it has been only thirty seconds since he first saw him, but Cecil would know that face anywhere.

"His name is Carlos," he reports, without looking away from the screen. His voice is surprisingly level, considering that the headshot's eyes appear to be gazing directly into the depths of his soul. "He is from District Ten. He is a scientist."

Only now does he turn to Enjolras, proffering the screen for him to observe. His expression is rapturous. He wishes he had an audience for this; he wishes he could tell everyone, the entire Capitol, right now, what has just happened. This might be the most important thing that has happened in the Games since their inception. But he is not on the network, so Enjolras will have to do.

His tone, when he speaks, is disbelieving; this moment must be shared, because in so doing it will become real. That Enjolras might not agree with him doesn't cross his mind. He is speaking objective fact. "Everything about him is... is perfect."