WHO| ALL TRIBUTES
WHAT| Tribute Interviews With Caesar Flickerman!
WHEN| The break between the closing of Arena 02 and the opening of Arena 03
WHERE| A stage set up in the South Wing of the Training Center
NOTES| Interviews are done by district, in descending order (12-1; saving Max for the finale.) Just look for the thread that has been specifically made for you, and show the nation of Panem what a star you are! This is the companion post to last week's backstage post, which should be considered to be taking place at the same time, in-game. There is also an Intermission thread in the middle of all the individual threads, for everyone to tag around in; watch and react and have fun.
MORE NOTES| New tributes (if we get any) will be added as they are accepted.



This is it. Your time to shine.

The red curtain rises and the lights shine bright; warm on your face and halfway blinding. The music plays, blaring in your ears, mingling with the roar of the candy coloured crowd just beyond the stage. You can see your face projected on what seems to be a dozen screens as tall as houses and there's even a small undercurrent in the noise that sounds suspiciously like half a thousand strangers screaming your name.

The stage is simple. Glossy black, reflecting the stage lights and the shine of your shoes. At the center you find two plush red chairs, tall-backed and velvet, but one of them is empty. Waiting for you. In the other sits a man in a midnight blue suit and a straight white grin. His hair is a vivid aquamarine with eyebrows to match, and he stands just as someone backstage queues you to take your step out into the spotlight.

WHO| Everyone
WHAT| Backstage for a round of interviews with the one and only Caesar Flickerman
WHEN| The closing ceremonies of Arena 02.
WHERE| A stage set up in one of the ballrooms of the Training Center
WARNINGS/NOTES| Find a setting in the threads below to tag into! A post will be made later for the actual interviews themselves.

It was clear the Capitol was nervous.

After the accidental trigger of the pod last celebration, this round the Capitol was "treating" the audience to one on one interviews with all the Tributes. A treat meant to keep everyone tucked at home for viewing parties.

The south wing of the Training Center had been made into a high security studio, light flooding one of the large ballrooms, while the tributes themselves were shuffled into dressing rooms and primped by their stylists, prepared to go on stage by their mentors, and generally left to wait their turn.

WHO| Any Victors, and every tribute as they are removed from the arena.
WHAT| The Capitol would like to pick your brain.
WHEN| Each person is approached separately, so you can specify when and where they came from.
WHERE| A government office building
WARNING/NOTES| This is mandatory IC. If for some reason OOC you cannot tag in (hiatus, etc) talk to a mod and we can handwave thing.

Much like the Victors who were currently missing, each victor or tribute was approached by a pair in sleek, all black suits, with friendly smiles, who none the less were quite firm in leading their targets away.

It was, from there, a short trip to a very nondescript looking Capitol building, in cars so heavily tinted it would be hard even for those familiar with the city to know where they ended up. From there they are lead to an elevator, which goes down, deep, and out into a white hall way. The first door slid open to a room, as blank as everything else, where a small, slightly pudgy woman with blood red a-line hair gave a wide smile.

"Please, have a seat!"

WHO| Everyone who's anyone in the Capitol.
WHAT| Effie is throwing a private party
WHEN| Towards the end of the Games
WHERE| A loft rented out towards the edge of town.
WARNING/NOTES| Treat like any party post, tag amongst yourselves!

They were down and out for this rounds, but with the new idea of the Games, Effie wasn't going to take a break. The Games would not be forgotten to the general public until next year like usual, and after getting out not one tribute but two Effie was not happy about being out so fast. She was determined they would do better next round.

So since they weren't worried about keeping tributes alive, Effie had made an effort to keep District 12 on people's radar in other ways. She had spare not expense for this party, and it looked like it. The whole pace was decked out in vivid reds, oranges and yellows. Vases of glowing coals sat in the middle of the tables, and Effie has designed the food and drink menus to contain as much spicy and outright flaming food as she could. She had no idea what they actually ate in 12, but she was running with this fire theme for all it was worth. She had invited as many interesting people as she could, and as many wealthy, and been pleased when the two overlapped.

And she, of course, matched the whole theme. As should the rest of her team when they showed up.

WHO| Emily and whoever feels inclined to risk her anger.
WHAT| An unnatural hissy fit.
WHEN| Upon her return to the Capitol.
WHERE| Her room in the Tribute building.
WARNING/NOTES| None.

When she awoke, she sat up with a start, drenched in a cold sweat.  "Thank God," she breathed, it had all been a dream.  Of course it had.  Except where exactly was she?  Sergio hadn't scratched the bejeezes out of her when she awoke, so she couldn't be at home.  Was she in Heaven?  She almost laughed at that - there was no way she was going to Heaven.

She nearly flew out of bed in the rush to find a mirror.  What the hell was going on?  Her fingertips wandered her face as if it were foreign territory; it seemed real enough, solid enough.

Was it at all possible that she really had died?  And...what?  Been brought back to life?  She couldn't remember anything after she'd been stabbed in the Arena.  She scrabbled at the hem of her shirt to look for a scar in confirmation.  Except there was no scar.  The skin of her stomach was all too perfect.

Not only was there no scar from the Arena, but they'd somehow managed to remove the scar from the last time she'd been stabbed.  In that exact moment as she realized what had happened, she didn't know why she was so angry and upset, all she knew was that she was so mad she couldn't see straight.

She let out a scream of rage and sent her knuckles straight into the mirror until it lay in shards on the ground.  She whipped around wildly looking for something else to release her anger on, but found nothing.  She grabbed a pillow and screamed into it, digging her fingers in so intensely that she actually tore the fabric, releasing a snowfall of down.

It was only a scar, she knew that, but  she felt like she was losing herself.

She certainly hoped no one planned to bother her until the moment she was required to enter the Arena.  She didn't want to see or speak to anyone until then.