Coriolanus Snow - Head Gamemaker

Coriolanus sits at the head of the Gamemakers table with a silver mirror in his left hand, examining his stubbly beard that grew as a result of the 24th annual Hunger Games. While his appearance and perception to the public is usually a large concern, during the games he always gets home late at night, if at all, and seldom has time to shave before going to bed and he always has to be up at the crack of dawn, so there is no time to shave then either. He holds a set of tweezers in his right hand, plucking at random strands of facial hair until his skin bleeds and he is forced to wipe his face with his handkerchief. Coriolanus often takes a few minutes after each Games to decompress alone before he goes to speak to the country of Panem about the murderous events they just witnessed.

The 24th Hunger Games were unexciting in comparison to the previous thirteen games managed by Coriolanus, at least to him, but the people seemed to like it, which is what matters most. It's just that he had tried to be creative with the arena, and create a winter wonderland that would juxtapose the burning heat outdoors, as the games always took place in the summer, but there was hardly any time for the mutant snowman and reindeer he had created to be enjoyed in their full glory since Micah Fairforge, the boy from District 2 was able to overpower nearly everybody with a combination of hand to hand combat and the ability to throw knives, resulting in the games only lasting eight days, the shortest Coriolanus had managed. It also didn't help that the people loved Micah's charisma, though Coriolanus never understood it, which led to dozens of gifts for him every day, making his win inevitable. On paper it was a success, but Coriolanus was unsatisfied. He knew weeks from now nobody would be talking about these games, unlike his previous spectacles. Next year just had to be better if he wanted to be president someday, he thought as he ripped out a blonde hair from his chin before hearing a jarring squeak.

"Coryo! Coryo." He heard a voice that was the equivalent of his former teacher's nails on the chalkboard. "Almost time! Almost time."

The voice got closer until he saw his colleague, Lucretius "Lucky" Flickerman in the doorway with his pet parrot Jubilee atop his shoulder. "You're still in here?"

"I do this every time," Corolanius said. "You should know this by now."

"Ah, yes, I forgot you need your meditation time," Lucky admitted. "But hurry up! The people want to celebrate your success!"

"It was no success Lucky, I personally was bored the entire time." Corolanius grunted. "I have to do something better."

"Well you do know next year is the Quarter Quell," Lucky said

"What?"

"Every 25 years there's a special twist to the Games. To keep things interesting."

"Do I get to decide?"

"Heavens no! Our ancestors wrote down twists for dozens of quarter quells in envelopes. You'll simply select the envelope that says 25, hand it to President Ravinstill who will give a big spiel, and then read the envelope. Everybody will be so excited!"

"That's perfect!" Coriolanus exclaimed. "When do the people find out about the twist?"

"Not until next spring," Lucky said as Coriolanus grunted. "Now come on, you have to go greet the people."

Coriolanus finally arose from his chair. "Fine."

"And for Panem's sake please shave your beard, you look like a mutt!"

"Coryo! Stop fidgeting with your buttons." Tigris slapped her cousin's hand, which was picking at the thread around the white button she had recently sewn onto his green waistcoat, "Why are you nervous?"

"I'm not nervous!" He grunted, slapping her back in the hand. "Sorry for that."

"You're fine." She laughed. "Think of it as any other Games."

"But it's not!"

"Well then if anything that just makes it easier for you! The twist makes the games interesting enough."

"I guess. I just hope it's something good."

"It will be. Now go get them!"

Coriolanus ran out of the dressing room, about to go onstage in front of the Capitol people and the rest of Panem on broadcast, when he realized he forgot something. He went back into the dressing room, grabbed a golden envelope with the number 25 embossed into it, waved at Tigris one more time, and patiently waited for Lucky to introduce him. After a few minutes he heard "Let's give a warm welcome to Head Gamemaker Coriolanus Snow," and walked onstage to thunderous applause as he waved to the audience and stood in between Lucky and President Ravenstill.

"Now Mr. Snow," Lucky started, his hair had recently been dyed a vibrant shade of blue in honor of his parrot who recently passed. "Would you like to explain what a Quarter Quell is to everybody at home? I tried to myself but I know you can do much better."

"Of course. As this year is the 25th anniversary of our valent defeat of the districts, this year's hunger games, as well as every games that is a multiple of 25, will have a special twist that will make them exceptionally disastrous and more difficult. I've no idea what this year's twist will be, as it was decided right at the beginning of the Hunger Games, and is written in this unwritten envelope." Coriolanus held out the envelope towards the cameras. "President Ravenstill, I give you the honor of reading it."

The president took the envelope from Coriolanus's hands. "Thank you Mr. Snow." He felt a twinge of anxiety as he opened the envelope and began reading it to himself. He pictured himself doing the same 25 years later and couldn't help but smile at the thought.

"Ah yes." President Ravenstill smiled "On the 25th anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that their children were dying because of their choice to initiate violence, every district will hold an election and vote on the tributes that will represent it."

The audience was silent before bursting into applause.

"Wow! That is going to be quite the spectacle!" Lucky exclaimed "Are you excited Mr. President?"

"Certainly. It will be a celebration that will be remembered."

"And you Mr. Snow?"

Coriolanus paused for a moment. Elections? It sounded brutal, not that the Games are not already, this just seemed unusually cruel, in the best way possible.

"I'm thrilled. I suspect this will be the finest Games our fair country will bear witness to."

Hi everybody! Thank you so much for reading this chapter. As you can probably guess right now, I'm writing a Submit Your Own Tribute (SYOT) story. As of May 25th, Submissions are officially open, so if you see this, feel free to submit a tribute. Actually, please submit a tribute. I'll keep submissions open until we have all 24 tributes. To submit, read the information on my profile, and then send in the application via PM. If you leave your tribute in the reviews of this story, I won't read it. Thank you again and may the odds be ever in your favor.