Mrs. Blackwood is looking lovely as always, perched at a table near to a viewing screen. A glass of red wine in hand, she makes no attempts to disguise that she is watching the arena with great interest, paying very little mind to the goings-on of the party. Every so often, a waitperson attempts to take another order, or some casual acquaintance comes by to make chatter, but she quickly seems to make them disappear. The arena holds her interest like nothing else can.

Slowly, she takes a sip from her glass and sets in on the table. On the screen, the Tributes shout and scream, and some of them start to go under. It's morbid and horrifying, but Jennifer cannot look away.