It had really been terrible. Linden had been notably out of it, likely drugged for the first of many times. He'd stood shell-shocked, rigid and glazed between two classically beautiful people who smiled and waved at the cameras while they took turns embracing his thin shoulders. It had been wrong and sick on a variety of levels, to the point where the televised version of the Crowning had actually been cut short. Before his Games, Linden had been sweet, clever and humorously spacey; after the Games, he'd become a bitter shell of a human being, and it was a transition that no one was quite comfortable with.

"Could I?" he asks mildly. "Well, I like to take my drinks in tumblers, but that certainly puts a new spin on the concept. That being said, I do think that the idea is a wash."