Chapter Text
Disruption: Selica
“It’s already ten past, I’m not going to take my chances waiting on her today!” Selica spits at no one in particular as she hangs up the phone and rises to her feet, taking a moment to balance herself on the too-high heels the stylists had shoved her into today.
She nearly snaps when she hears Ismene giggling from the sofa, where she’s sprawled out obscenely in a pathetic attempt to catch the eye of one of the new cameraboys she’s latched onto - “You did say she told you eleven thirty, didn’t you?”
“The point is that I told her eleven , sharp.” Selica turns toward the elevator, making her way there much slower than she’d like. “If I’m not back down in fifteen minutes you can send a search party I suppose.”
“What fun is that? I’ll have missed all the fireworks by then.” Glancing over her shoulder at Ismene as she drawls, Selica frowns when she sees her standing to follow - It’s days like today where I wonder if all this is worth it for the price of dealing with these two perpetual children.
“Oh, absolutely not! Sit down!” Selica barks and the already-buzzed woman immediately drops into her seat with a huff and a theatrical pout. At least this one listens from time to time. To keep her head clear for her less-cooperative charge, she chooses to ignore the rude whisper at her back and steps through the doors.
The main lounge of District Five’s suite is largely empty when she arrives, barring a few mute servants who bustle about clearing away any evidence of the place being inhabited at all. Several of them glance in her direction, but none stare for too long aside from one particularly handsome boy near the bar who she spares a wink for before walking down the hall towards Alara’s personal quarters. Without knocking, she pushes the button to open the doors and is met with a flashing red lock indicator on the keypad above. As if I don’t know her - Selica punches in 25272 and the light blinks a happy green .
Stepping inside and sealing the entrance behind her, she’s stunned for a moment by just how disastrous the place looks. There’s clothes flung everywhere on the floors around the dresser and the closet, discarded plates of food on seemingly every available surface, at least two empty wine bottles and a spread of glasses - one tipped on its side with its contents dried an angry purple across the coffee table. Perhaps my own fault for not advising her to abstain from drinking with those pills I gave her, but I’ll leave that out of the conversation. Alara has somehow managed to pull herself together into a much less disheveled state than the space around her - She’s showered, at least. She sits crosslegged on her bed in a changing robe, completely ignoring Selica’s entrance in favor of flipping through a data pad sitting in her lap with a sour look on her face. “Oh gods above! This is what’s been keeping you? It’s portable - bring it downstairs!”
Alara jerks at the sound of Selica’s voice just a few feet away from her, quickly flipping the datapad over so the screen isn’t visible - Do I really want to know what she’s hiding? “ Fucking -” Alara clears her throat, glancing over at a clock before whipping back towards Selica and yelling - “I’m ten minutes late! A personal housecall seems dramatic, don’t you think?!”
“If I wanted this to be dramatic I’d have brought Ismene when she asked.” she snaps back. Alara actually seems to calm slightly when confronted with the thought of a worse outcome. Selica takes a deep breath - I do want to know - “Before we go, I have to ask -”
“If it’s about the state of this place, don’t. That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out all morning.” Alara lifts the datapad and waves it around - “I’ve been going through my camera feeds trying to -”
“Since when do you have cameras here?” Selica juts in abruptly - I’ve never known Alara to allow herself to be filmed out-of-character…
“I told you I’d be going public with this relationship, don’t act surprised.” Alara uncrosses her legs while she speaks and shifts to the edge of the bed. She spares a last, meek scowl upward at Selica - “You could have warned me not to drink when you drugged me, by the way.” - then stands.
“Medicated.” She corrects. “And you did tell me, it just didn’t occur to me that would involve filming your most intimate moments. I hope you’re planning to spare the audience the worst angles -”
“Nothing unclothed, on my honor.” - Alara’s eyes flutter shut as she sighs heavily - she’s trying to sound dismissive but there’s a flat, quivering note to her voice that gives away her anxiety. “I’m still trying to curate something that suits my narrative, though. That’s why they’re still up.”
I’m too soft with her, that’s why she’s like this. Selica does nothing to change that now as she pushes aside her own frustration and puts a comforting hand on Alara’s shoulder - “Tell me what you’ve found out from your tapes while we walk downstairs.” Spoken calmly but it’s not a question, no room for argument - though I suspect I’ll hear some anyway.
Her suspicions turn out to be wrong. If only she were this compliant every day. Alara opens her eyes and nods - “Give me a minute to gather myself and we can go.” It takes her less time than that to fly across the room to her dresser, snatching a handbag off the floor on her way past and shoving something from her top drawer inside. She starts her recounting of last night’s events as she walks towards the door and Selica takes the hint to follow - “So I ordered us wine with dinner, of course. All’s well for the first glass - though I finish mine first.”
“Of course you did.” Selica mutters under her breath as they exit the room.
“ Shut up . The real problem is that I failed to realize after my second glass that her first was still sitting full on the table.” Alara continues chattering loudly, ignoring the sidelong glances of the avox staff as they head into the main lounge. “She was just going on and on with a thousand questions about…” She trails off for a brief moment before continuing - “... the private sessions and I was so tired of it, Selica, I just wanted to eat dinner and think - ”
“You’re her mentor, it’s your job to answer her questions not-”
“Again, please shut up if you’d like me to finish before we get to the studio. My third glass is where things go hazy, so this is what I’ve pieced together from the video -” Alara pushes the call button for the elevator. “She starts egging me on to drink faster - doesn’t touch her own glass, mind you. At one point she just hands me the open bottle, laughing away the whole time while I don’t realize anything’s going on - arrogant little shit. ” Alara mutters the last part under her breath as they step into the elevator. “I sped up the feed there, but it looked like I had a fair bit more before I keeled over on the sofa. She spent most of the night right in the bed scribbling away in one of her notebooks without a care in the world after that. I don’t think she got more than a few hours of sleep before she had to leave for breakfast this morning.” Selica opens her mouth to say something about the absurdity of essentially accusing her tribute of getting her drunk on purpose when Alara starts talking even louder, voice cracking - “Speaking of breakfast! Once I’ve gathered myself enough to join them at the table, I ask her what her plan is for the private sessions - and do you know what she says?” She doesn’t give Selica a chance to answer. “Nothing. Not a word. She just gave me a big smile and told me it was ‘her secret’” Alara spits out the word secret like it hurts her to say it.
Selica can’t help the smirk on her lips. I for one am glad someone has shown Alara how foul it can be to taste her brand of medicine. “So - to recap. You blew off ALL of her questions, and now you’re mad that she won’t tell you what she came up with while you were too drunk to keep yourself upright?” Alara casts a thorny glare in her direction but it doesn’t land - it just makes her laugh.
“ It didn’t seem like a big deal at the time… ” Alara mumbles as the elevator slows to a halt.
“Apparenlty it was to her. Perhaps try humbling yourself a bit next time, hm?” They step off the elevator into the hallway outside of their studio. “Or don’t. Whichever helps you keep your head together. My investment in your evening activities only extends as far as they affect your ability to do your job. And potentially in how they could boost our ratings.” The last thing I want is to get shipped back to the districts because we aren’t performing up to standards. Not that she’s spent a single waking moment worrying about how much I do to keep this entire enterprise afloat. Selica shoots an angry look at Alara as they stop just outside the door.
Her eyes seem to have entirely glazed over - Selica isn’t sure Alara heard a thing that was just said, but she nods regardless before walking straight through the door without another word - not even so much as an attempt at rebuttal. Alright then. She follows the younger woman into the studio.
Ismene calls out over the chatter of the set crew as mull about waiting for direction - “Eleven Twenty-Eight! You beat your estimate today, Alara, bravo!” she claps slowly and giggles to herself. Alara pauses briefly, narrowing her eyes at the woman on the couch, before turning on her heels and setting off for her preferred styling chair in the furthest corner of the off-camera area. I’m truly not sure whether to worry about or celebrate her newfound ability to walk away from a fight.
In lieu of answering such a difficult question, she turns her attention to something that makes sense - managing her show. “Ismene, have you looked over the agenda for today at all or have you just been thinking of something useless to say for the last twenty minutes?” Selica snaps at the half-drunk woman on the couch who sits up with a hard scoff.
“Of course I’ve read it – not that it’s changed much from last year’s beyond the names.”
Arrogant. “I’m not in the business of fixing things that work. And I did provide us with an absolute trove of information in those condensed transcripts from the training floor.” Selica grabs her own copy of the agenda file off a nearby table and flips to the fifth page - “They start here, if you were looking.”
“Yes, and continue for the remaining hundred pages, I’m aware. But Selica, that’s so much reading. ” Ismene whines pitifully - It’s fourty-two pages, and she couldn’t bother to skim?! She bites back the urge to start an unproductive screaming match an hour before showtime.
“Have you at least come up with something decent for your Final Cut scores? It’s our most popular segment in the pre-games run up, I don’t want to waste it.” Selica had the brilliant idea a decade or so back to have the Crimson Cut girls put together their own, entirely speculative and unofficial of course, tribute scores. They’d picked up social media engagement almost immediately - with scoring comparisons and very public debates popping up among their audience about if the Cut’s or the officials were closer to reality as the games played out. Smart money always goes with the official scores, of course, but it’s a great way to wrestle funding around the edges.
Ismene raises a finger and slips away to her styling station, grabbing a packet of papers from the top and holding it up for Selica to see - “My list, with scores and justifications for every one this time.”
She knows better than to ask Alara if she’s prepared - though she does silently remind herself to stick a list of the tribute’s names somewhere in the woman’s eyeline for today’s shoot. Last year she forgot a full third of them, it was a travesty. Instead, she heads for the brunch buffet still set up near the entrance and grabs a fizzy orange drink and a couple of pastries on a napkin before making her way to the couch and draping herself over the spot where Ismene had sat while she’s still preoccupied looking over her list. The remainder of their prep time goes shockingly smoothly - Alara doesn’t lash out at any stylists, Ismene keeps herself from slurring, Selica only smokes one cigarette - it’s the closest to peace she’s had in this place in a long time. Her entire body clenches when she realizes it won’t last.
They take their places on set with five minutes to spare, each sporting a different colored version of the too-tight pantsuit provided to them by the styling team - yellow for Alara, blue for Ismene. Probably an ad placement, I wish they’d tell us in advance. The blue one in particular clashes hideously with the rest of the set, but Selica doubts they’d let the woman change if she asked. The stylists have cleaned up Alara nicely, somehow pulling together her usual imposing image even in yellow. There’s a distant look in her eye still, but the second the camera crew starts to count down she snaps her attention to them and contorts her face into a forced, performative grin. Showtime.
Selica fixes her own gaze on the cameras and straightens her back just in time to make the countdown - “Good Afternoon to my favorite friends in the Capitol and welcome to this special, post-practice, pre-scoring edition of The Crimson Cut!” The same practiced pause - the same canned cheers over the speakers - - everything in its place - “As always, I’m your host, Selica Vireaux - here with my ever-entertaining cohosts; Alara Vox and Ismene Lux!” Her accent is a perfect blend of Capitol presenter flash and District One elegance - the canned cheers roar exactly on time - just keep going like this for another 90 minutes and we’re clear till the fighting starts. She tries to will the thought into existence as Ismene takes over to introduce their first segment on mentor’s lounge gossip.
There isn’t much to fail with this one. Selica enlisted the intern team to put together a few top-five lists on various themes; Funniest Drunk Moments, Most Sexual Tension, Biggest Feuds, and Worst Fashion Crimes. People love mess, and they love lists - perfect execution. All they have to do is commentate along, make a few quips, and segue at the end to the next segment. Things seem to be going smoothly until they step into the “Fashion Crimes” segment and Alara’s half-finished makeup look flashes across the screen behind them at Number 4. Alara falls completely silent when she sees the picture of her face. Just push the show forward, don’t panic - “Oh don’t sulk, Alara dear, you’re only at number four! It could be much worse -”
“I made the Drunk Moments list twice last year, you’ve yet to top that!” Ismene butts in from the sidelines. No reaction from Alara. Just silence. I’ve never seen anyone kill the energy so quickly, gods. Selica tries to recover with a few more quick quips before moving on. It takes until the end of the slideshow for Alara to recover her ego enough to fully participate again and she manages to introduce the next part of the show without a major incident.
Selica takes over for the disclaimer portion before they begin - “Now I am required to remind you that mentors and tributes are not allowed to discuss what they’ve seen on the training floor publicly. Everything that you’re about to hear is based on speculation from third-party sources - not first-hand accounts. This is for entertainment purposes only, and shouldn’t be considered a news source.” It’s a transparent lie, but one she’s well-practiced at telling after all these years.
Given that neither of her co-hosts had bothered to read her transcripts in full, she does get some very convincing reactions of surprise to some of the information she comes forward with - always helpful, thank you ladies. Cymbria had managed to pick up some fun interpersonal drama on the mic over the last few days - The highs and lows of the various alliances and the many failed flirtations of Marcelus seem to get the best banter going among the girls so she leans into those topics until it’s close to time for a commercial break before they transition to their last segment.
“Back again this year by viewer demand, we’re going to wrap up our show today with our Final Cut - a set of completely unofficial, totally speculative scores from our panel of victors based entirely on our very biased judgement.” Faux cheers - a dramatic dimming of the lights - so long as these two stay on track we’ll be golden. “And to keep with tradition, we’ll start with my own home District, One!”
“How convenient it must be to come first by default.” Alara mutters just loud enough for the mics to pick up.
“I’ve never claimed not to love it.” She bites back. “Anyway. We have twenty-four tributes to get to and not nearly enough time, so let’s keep this moving quickly. Debates to a minimum, ladies - save it for your social pages.” They’ll debate a bit anyway - but reminding the other two seems to keep it to enough of a minimum that they only have to rush through the outer districts. “From my district we have Cymbria Vale and Marcelus Glint. We’ll start with Ismene and work back to me.”
Ismene leans back and sighs - “It’s always so hard to judge them like this, I want to love them all.” Gods give me the strength not to cringe at her. “Cymbria is very pretty of course, scary with a knife - I’ll go with a 10. Marcelus is gorgeous too, don’t get me wrong - that hair! But he seems… denser than I’d like in a victor. I’ll give him an 8, for the spirit of perseverance if nothing else.”
“Mmmmhm.” Alara hums. “I’m not going to be as generous with your idiot, Selica. He’s a 4 at best. I think that boy has made an enemy of nearly everyone in the playing field.” I hate when she’s right. Alara pauses for a long moment and clears her throat before saying. “I second the 10. Good knife skills, career stock type. I’d say she’s a solid pick for - ahem - safe betters .”
“I have a bit of an extra bias, being from their mentor pool - but I’m going to step away from you here and score Marcelus at 6 and Cymbria at 8. I agree that the boy is mostly fluff, but Alara - you’re underselling some of the raw skills underneath that. He could surprise us.” Selica’s co-hosts are staring at her with confused looks as she continues - They’ll know I have a new favorite. “The girl is an impulsive wreck, too. She’s just as likely to get herself killed doing something stupid as he is.”
Alara gasps sarcastically - “Selica, I had no idea you were so cold with your own tributes.” She’s trying to imitate Ismene’s overblown drawl - It does sound like something she’d say.
“Look, you all know that I always do my best to be honest, pragmatic, and fair in my opinions. I’ll always do my best to train these kids - but I can’t lie about my confidence in them to our loyal fans .” Before either of the others can say something, Selica pushes forward with her very carefully constructed itinerary - “Onto Two, she flips the page on the binder in her lap to refresh her memory of their names - “Cassia Brigg and Tiber Strade -”
“I’m using my 11 this year for both of them!” Ismene interrupts her before she can finish.
Alara scoffs - “You only get one per year, darling, don’t cheat.” Please don’t let this evolve into an argument - She had laid down the ‘one 11 per year’ rule when Ismene had gone on a kick of scoring every tribute as high as possible. This ended up sparking an online debate about the ‘realism’ and ‘thoughtfulness’ of such takes given that no tribute has ever scored a 12 and they rarely broke 11. She was sick of hearing about it within a day - never again.
“Fine, ugh, let me think-” Ismene grumbles under her breath for a moment - “10 for the girl, 11 for the boy - I think he wore that armored parade getup with just a touch more flair than she did.”
Alara doesn’t wait for prompting, she just says flatly - “8, for both. They’re big, yes, but gods - so dull.” She taps the side of her head lightly - “I swear I’ve seen maybe three cohesive thoughts occur between the two of them the entire time I’ve watched them, and they seem to get less common with every chest bump.”
Selica deals them both easy 10’s and moves on. Three proves to be a low scorer across the board for both tributes this year - both fairly young, both in training to be computer specialists - poor things, that never carries over to the arena very well. Things are middling for the Fours, with the general consensus among the group being that neither tribute stands out enough to have stolen their focus.
It’s when they get start to discuss Alara’s charges that her carefully crafted plan starts to crumble, with Ismene’s next words causing the first crack - “Alara, that girl of yours is absolutely striking . Love the half-doomed alliance, the funky traps, the unpredictability.” Alara nods along until the other woman pauses for a moment and says - “All the more tragic that she won’t make it back to us - an 8 from me. Your boy -”
Ismene doesn’t get a chance to say what she thinks of the boy because Alara interrupts her - “What makes you think she won’t come back, exactly?” Don’t start.
“I mean, she’s volatile - that’s fun but you never know how it turns out in the real world. And even you have to admit she has some weak points in direct combat, especially compared to some of the Career contenders wh-” It’s the ‘Career’ mention that gives away Ismene’s game - She’s baiting her on purpose?!
“OH YES, because they’ve been such a reliable bunch this year! The six of them can barely -”
“Girls! Back to the task at hand!” Selica tries to steer the show back on track in spite of the rising tension.
Alara takes a deep breath. Pauses. She looks directly at the camera, speaking with a silky tone and a smile once again - “To get back to the scoring, Voltaea takes my 11.” What a shock. “In spite of what my ill-informed co-host seems to think, she has the best chance in the field at a victory this year, I guarantee you’ll like what you see of her out there.” Selica can’t help but roll her eyes - Delusional. Completely. The next judgement surprises her more - “The boy takes a 7 - and it’d be higher if he wasn’t a weakling. He’s smart, good at reading people, keeps up morale. Not so great on his own, but he’ll make sure that alliance of theirs works out as long as he can to the benefit of everyone in it.”
In an effort to avoid another fight breaking out, Selica is more generous with her score and less scathing with her reasoning than her thoughts scream at her to be - “I’m not so sure she takes an 11, but I’d give the girl a 9. Strong fundamentals, good allies - though that leaves her open if they kick off early.” Alara writhes in her seat like she’s fighting back the urge to scream an obscenity at her for daring to score her perfect pet anything less than the highest she can. “The boy gets a 5. I think he’s dead weight for the most part, though I’ll entertain the idea that he has a use.”
Alara disrupts the entire broadcast once again to make herself look foolish, not helped by Ismene’s choked laughter in the background - “You're both moronic if you think she's not a top choice based on her performance in training alone. Just completely underestimating her! You can talk about the technicalities all you’d like but everyone on this sofa knows what it really comes down to is a w-”
“I said no debates!” Selica cuts her off abruptly - I have no patience left for this today - “We’re moving on!”
The ‘no debates’ rule holds out through one full District worth of commentary until they touch upon Seven and Alara somehow manages to drag the subject back to her favorite fixation. “... so I’m going to give her a 9. She has an arrogance about her that I despise , but she has good taste in company. Not a chance at winning, though.”
Ismene giggles and Selica has to restrain herself from swearing at her on live television - As if it wasn’t hard enough to shut her up without the added sound effects! “Gods, it’s so cute that you think your new favorite has a chance this year! I like this much more than the ‘sad, mopey, dismissive’ Alara we’ve been getting the past few seasons. I’ll miss this fiery you when she’s gone.”
“Come over here and mock her chances to my face, darling.” Alara drops her voice to a low, almost growl “I’ll show you fucking mopey -”
“Censors, Alara!” Selica hisses as she gestures to the sound crew to add the cover-up effect before the 1-minute airing delay ends.
Alara doesn’t acknowledge her, but she does stop herself from lunging across the sofa to strangle her co-host long enough to close her eyes and breathe - “The last I’ll say of it is that any potential sponsors out there should hold off on committing their money until they’ve seen what my girl can do.” Gods, just let this show be over soon.
Selica does everything in her power to facilitate that, rushing through the remaining tributes in record time and backtracking on the idea she’d written down to give her highest score to the girl from Seven - It seemed an unnecessary fight to pick given that Alara had already escalated to threats of bodily harm this afternoon. Ismene does take a moment to wax poetically about how ‘gorgeous’ and ‘soulful’ and ‘doomed’ her twin tributes have been until Alara opens her mouth to interject and she has to shut them both down again.
Audience interest tends to be lower overall in the outer districts, so besides Selica’s acknowledgement of Ten’s potential as a dark horse contender that the other two vehemently disagree with; the finer points get glossed over when they speak about the last few. Back on script, the canned cheers roll out as they finish the segment and Selica stands to deliver her closing statement. “With that, we’ll have to leave you for today. We’ll be back with live commentary and highlights starting on opening day with our Bloodbath Special, along with two very special guests who will be joining us for a behind-the-scenes look at how the magic happens, as it happens! With love from your favorite victors, until next time.” She blows a kiss to the camera as the canned cheers roll for a final time, holding the position until a stagehand gives her the ‘all clear’ signal.
Before she’s even turned herself around, Alara springs up from the sofa and starts towards the exit - Oh no, not without at least a lecture - “After all that noise, you’re running off again?!” she freezes in place as Selica snarls at her, but doesn’t say anything. She tries to ignore the hush that seems to have fallen over the crew as the two of them stand there silently in the center of the studio. An agonizingly silent moment passes before Alara starts walking again instead of addressing the situation. Asshole. “Alara!”
She turns around just long enough that Selica can see the tears welling up at the corner of her eyes before whipping back around and leaving through the door without saying a thing. If she’s going to be like this every time someone mentions that girl dying, it’s going to be a very long Hunger Games season.
Selica pulls a cigarette out of her handbag and lights it before looking back at Ismene, still sprawled comfortably on the sofa and looking far too happy with herself. “Don’t smirk.” Selica snaps at her, but the woman just raises an eyebrow like she finds it amusing - “I saw you baiting her back there - what were you hoping to accomplish?”
“It’s fun to watch her squirm sometimes.” Ismene shrugs, “But it wasn’t all for fun, she’ll thank me later.”
“Why’s that?”
“It’s kind of romantic to fight for the one you love, don’t you think?” Ismene giggles again - I despise that sound . “Look, it’s simple. She needed a credibility boost just as much as I needed to get my kicks. That woman isn’t remotely believable as a hopeless romantic with her current reputation. Now she’ll at least look the part of… a delusional romantic, if nothing else.” Selica stares at her, mouth agape - not at all what I expected. “What? Her success is our success, and if the people don’t buy into this… Well. It’s a risky play, and I’d like to keep my job. It’s so much harder to find good wine back home.”
Selica looks her over for a moment - “It may not help, but I can’t argue with the reasoning.” she reaches out a hand - “Should we take this time to drink and commiserate about our ‘dear friend’ dragging us into her controversies?”
Ismene grabs ahold of her with a huge smile and no hesitation - “You had me at drink.”