Personality Profile: Caduceus ‘Cad’ Matos
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@caduceus-matos
Personality Profile: Caduceus ‘Cad’ Matos

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“How long will this go on for?” Leander worriedly asked, as he watched the gravity levels in the Arena go haywire. Tributes were being flung in all directions, at some moments flying while at other points they were smacked back down to the ground as though something had held them up and decided to drop them again. Pepper and Hazel were still doing well enough, but no one could ever be sure when the Gamemaker influence was so dangerous. “Has anyone-” He looked down at his tablet, his tributes’ vitals brightly displayed on the screen. He’d began to speak, and promptly, the vitals for the girl from District One ceased showing any sign of life. “Oh. That’s- Well, that’s unfortunate.”
It wasn’t uncommon for the Gamemakers to torment the tributes by affecting the arena’s environment, it happened year after year (and now biannually). Though his own tributes were killed in the bloodbath, Cad was watching the games and the vitals of the other tributes still alive in the arena.
“Even when it ends, I don’t think the problems will end for them. There might be lasting issues that come about the change in pressure and--” Cad winced as a tribute was dropped, “blunt trauma can have some lasting effects too.”
caduceus-matos:
Cad always brought his work with him when he went to the Capitol whether it be the notebook of notes for prosthetics or general ideas to improve or the small repair kit he carried around in a case to manage his and others prosthetics. He sat at the dining table on Three’s floor, his own prosthetic on a stand behind a magnifying glass. A notebook was opened with some coffee stains on the pages, chicken scratch handwriting here and there. With his left hand he was using a small tool to work on the prosthetic.
He was squinting and leaning in closely to the glass when Chip walked over. “Not too busy, just some general maintenance.” Cad picked up a microchip from the inside one of the fingers and placed it into a small tray before looking towards his visitor. “Everything alright?”
Chip was always impressed by Cad in moments like these. After so many years of Chip trying to quiet his own hyperactive mind, he admired how the mentor could embrace his own intellect. “Uh, y-yeah,” Chip said with a nod, looking at the prosthetic and tools on the table as he sat down. “I-I have a question.” He found his gaze drifting over the handwritten notes and quickly turned his gaze away. Any thing handwritten felt too personal to look at directly. “Wh-What are you working on?” It was the question he was desperate to ask the moment he saw the setup, but not the question he was here for. He knew, from the vibrations in his throat and across his tongue, that he was talking at a normal volume. But to his ears, it sounded quiet as a whisper. He’d waited too long for help. “Um, d-do you have time for anyth-thing else?”
Cad raised his eyebrows as he looked down at his own notebook, nothing was organized, half of the writing was not along the lines and equations were kept to the margins of the paper, “There’s always room for improvement for things, I’m still trying to figure out how to make the prosthetic feel nature and balanced with my other, actual hand.” He pointed to a sketches on the page, “And with hopefully figuring that out I can improve the ones I’ve made or will make.”
“Time to fix something or make something?” Cad asked. “Depending on what, I can after tweaking things with my own prosthetic but it shouldn’t take me more than--” He mouthed to himself what he had to do and counted down on his fingers, “15 minutes? Give or take.”
lyricordell:
Lyric was walking into a viewing room, settling in to watch the final pre-game moments and watch the bloodbath. she had high hopes for her tributes, she always did. “good morning, Cad.” she said, amiably, as she sat beside him. flick jumped up, immediately putting her head on lyric’s lap and curling up well. lyric looked over at the crossword, trying to get a pulse on how far he was, when she caught sight of an already completed clue. “wait, I was an answer?” she asked, a grin catching on her face. weird. cool.
and then, a bomb went off onscreen, and she jumped.
flick was right there, jumping on her lap and demanding attention, to take it away from the screen. lyric buried her head in flick’s fur, simply trying her best to ignore whatever was happening. there was screaming.
Cad nodded,·“I was an answer for a clue a few days ago, thought they spelled my name wrong.”
The volume of the television was low, but despite that the sound of the explosion was clearly audible. He could feel his own heart start to race as he fumbled for the remote, muting it. Cad was familiar with explosions from his time in his arena and during the handful of failed rebellions that had occurred since his victory. Despite it being over twenty years since his games loud noises often brought him back to the sixteen year old kid running for his life with his ally.
He kept his eyes on the screen obscured by smoke and flame but he could tell there were multiple explosions in quick succession. To his right he noticed Lyric burying her face into Flick. The remote still in his hand, he turned the television off.·
“Lyric,” Cad said softly,·“the screen’s off. Are you okay?”
@caduceus-matos
Chip still had a pair of earbuds clenched in his fist as he stepped off the elevator. He’d stuck around the Tower after his first shift, but he’d tried to find some solitude in an empty viewing room with music and a video game on his laptop. On a day when he was looking to focus on anything trivial, he realized several familiar songs sounded different. It took him a few more songs to realize it was all for something lacking in the left earbud. He tried a different set, and the same thing happened. He’d been warned about this. He’d always listened to music and games and TV too loud. Combined with the injury from a couple years ago, he was losing more hearing capacity.
He was tempted to ignore it, but then he became aggravated when he was unable to hear a bass drop evenly in both ears. So he packed up his things and headed for Three’s floor. He had a request he should’ve asked after two years before. “C-Cad, you busy?”
Cad always brought his work with him when he went to the Capitol whether it be the notebook of notes for prosthetics or general ideas to improve or the small repair kit he carried around in a case to manage his and others prosthetics. He sat at the dining table on Three’s floor, his own prosthetic on a stand behind a magnifying glass. A notebook was opened with some coffee stains on the pages, chicken scratch handwriting here and there. With his left hand he was using a small tool to work on the prosthetic.
He was squinting and leaning in closely to the glass when Chip walked over. “Not too busy, just some general maintenance.” Cad picked up a microchip from the inside one of the fingers and placed it into a small tray before looking towards his visitor. “Everything alright?”

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@lyricordell
The day began before dawn for Cad, the city lights still illuminating the streets outside. Regardless of how many years had passed there had always been something about the visits to the Capitol that made it difficult for Cad to sleep in–or sleep much in general–whether as tribute, victor, or mentor. He fell into the routine he managed during the game once he got up from the bed: dressed himself in a nice suit, managed his hair and beard, grabbed a messenger bag with a computer for mentoring purposes, a few notebooks, and a collection of papers.
The two tributes were still in their beds though whether or not they were getting any sleep was unknown to him. Avoxes were posted around the floor, Cad gave them a nod as he passed by. Once in the elevator, he made his way down to the first few floors of the tower and into a viewing room. At this hour it was of course empty seeing as the games would not start until noon. His routine continued on, he made himself coffee at the small bar that was in the viewing room, turned on the television with the volume close to mute, set up his computer and pulled out a paper along with reading glasses from his bag.
Across 1. Naturally occurring hallucinogen. 10 letters.
Hours passed, the pre-Games broadcast began at some point but Cad’s attention rarely went to the television, instead it shifted between the crossword puzzle, sudoku puzzles, and a notebook filled with chicken scratch handwriting of equations, measurements, and very rough sketches of what appear to be hands, arms, legs, and other limbs. Some individuals came into the viewing room and said hello to Cad but most left to be in a room more befitting to the celebration.
Down 53. 23rd Head Gamemaker. 6 letters.
Cad was holding the paper out away from him at an angle, his eyes squinted to look through his glasses as he mouthed the clue out. The puzzle itself looked like a mess filled with his handwriting, guesses written alongside certain clues. In the corner of his eye he saw someone come beside him, a dog with them. He turned his gaze and gave a warm smile, “Good morning, Lyric, Flick.” He set his crossword back on the small table in front of him and fixed his glasses.
𝙲𝚊𝚍𝚞𝚌𝚎𝚞𝚜 𝙼𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚜 | 𝚅𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝟿𝟻𝚝𝚑 𝙷𝚞𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝙶𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚜
OSCAR ISAAC for Esquire • 2022