churchill

“I swear the parade’s all anyone here has talked about for months.” Lincoln offered with a light chuckle. Frankly, the young man felt no excitement for the frivolous display of the tributes, but he endured it nonetheless. He supposed the only advantage was that the parade allowed sponsors to connect with tributes. Ultimately, those connections might very well save a tribute’s life in the arena when things became difficult.

“I’m not too big on the costumes myself, but the energy here is pretty contagious.” The words felt like a half-truth leaving his mouth. Part of him felt appalled with the Capitol’s exhilaration, but Lincoln also had district pride. His heart swelled with both honor and concern when District Four’s chariot rode past his place in the stands. “I haven’t run into many sponsors yet, so that’s bound to be an interesting day.” 

“Tell me about. It seems the Games are always going on in the Capitol.” She said this neutrally, as if not to pass judgement. Back home in Five, everyone tried to forget about the games the moment that final cannon sounded and they could turn off the television until the next one came around. They focused on their currently-alive family, their jobs, the money they didn’t have. In the Capitol, the world surrounded around this. All they thought about was this. She wondered if it was the same in Four. 

“I think the magazines will like your tribute’s costumes, though. Fur seems to be very on trend. No way to fit that into Five, unfortunately.” Jules said with a shrug. Her stylists usually tried to do something with light, and this year was no different, giving her a barely-there dress and covering her with some temporary dye that made her skin look luminescent. She could take it or leave it, as with most capitol fashion, the only annoyance being how much skin they designed the dress to show. “They haven’t swamped you, yet? Consider me surprised.”

“it is!” she nodded, smiling away at the whole explination. she just lit up talking about home, talking about the capitol, talking about jules… honestly, she hadn’t been unlit this whole convorsation. perhaps that was just the kind of person she was.

“why wouldn’t I?” the question was so genuine and confused. shiloh didn’t understand why anyone wouldn’t tell the truth. “I mean. sometimes they’re kinda dumb…” she dropped the accent a little (although her natural accent remained) when she noticed they were farther away from the group of capitolites  now. “but they’re sweet people, who seem very interested in our way of life. they mean well… even if we do play into steryotypes. just a little.” she laughed a bit. “I mean, you get it, right? you’re a performer too. just tea parties.”

 Jules tensed, her face flashing concern for just a moment before she masked it with one of confusion. She forgets that not everyone realizes the danger. Talk like that can easily get someone killed, especially since everywhere is bugged and nowhere is safe. Jules has been relatively free from danger, these past few years: it would be stupid of Snow to kill off on of the most loved Victors he had, especially one of the few likable ones from the outer districts. But some small girl from ten, already half-dead in the way all tributes are? 

“Oh, I don’t know about that...” Jules says, cocking her head as if she’s just baffled by why the girl would say that. She wasn’t truly concerned, until the girl finished her thought--a performer, too. Fuck that. “I’m not sure what you mean at all.” Jules says with finality, but still in that syrupy-sweet voice that’s taken her years to master. The nice thing about it being completely artificial is that it's always there when she reaches for it. She doesn’t want the girl digging much farther though, so she moves to change the subject, quickly. “I think you’ll find plenty of cleverness in the Capitol, particularly where the games are concerned. It’s a Quarter-Quell, after all. I bet you’re clever, too, no?”

“Well, lucky for you you’re in the company of someone that does wear a jacket.” He pointed out with a laugh as he offered her the flask. If she wanted a drink Cambric wasn’t going to deny her and if the Sponsors asked, it was rude to turn down an offered drink. Jules would incur any judgment either way.

“All that glitters,” Cambric pointed out and left it there because there could be many ears happening upon their conversations and he did not know where the younger Victor landed on the scale of hating the Capitol. “They’re a bit overwhelmed by all the attention, to be honest, but it’s a lot to adjust to.” Cambric chewed his lip a moment. “How about you, loving the attention?” Each Victor handled it differently and it hadn’t been all that long since Jules won.

“Might have to take you up on that. Later.” Jules said with a wink. She wasn’t a heavy drinker--she used to not drink at all, but there were times that went down a little better with the fog of liquor, so she saved that out for particularly bad moments. 

"I would imagine. The only ones who ever like it are the careers, it seems.” A part of her was jealous of the Career victors, for that. Their jobs seemed so much easier. Then again, she had rarely met a career that struck her as particularly smart, so...

“Always. Such a big population here and I adore crowds.” Jules replied, which was her go-to phrase when asked that sort of question. “People certainly love giving me attention.” she added, with a strange sort of side smile. She loved when she could find a way to fit in a bit of truth to the absolute lies she told everyone. She used to hate lying. She knew that if she were to trust anyone, it should be the other victors--the only ones who could truly understand, and all that. But no one decent ever won the games, and Jules knew what it took to become a victor. She didn’t believe Cambric’s goofy, nice-guy persona one bit. 

“it’s pretty buckwild. maybe if ya’ll asked ya could get a visit. ah know ah’d get ya in for free… but gettin’ to ten ah can’t promise.” she never could, and she’d never try to. but what she could do was describe her rodeo. not in painstaking detail, but enough. “we got cattle ranchin’, barrel racin’, horse ridin’… we do singin’ an’ dancin’ an’ we even do some good ole’ beans an’ steak for dinner with the guests. we all have buckets of fun.” buckets and buckets. and looking at the liklihood of things, she’d never do that again, but still…

“a little. It’s nice, really. everythin’s so different here, but at least… ah like capitolites. always have.  so there’s one thing ah like here.”

"Sounds like loads of fun.” Jules said, nodding as Shiloh explained something she couldn’t begin to comprehend. It was a common occurrence, when speaking with people from other districts. Where was the similarity between the power-lines and electric dams that filled Five and the large open spaces in Ten? They were from completely different worlds, the only thing really typing them together being the Capitol. 

And the Hunger Games, of course. 

“Hold onto that.” Jules said, feeling odd that she was giving her genuine advice at winning. Still... a girl from Ten had very little chance. What would the off comment about charm do to help her odds? “Make sure they know how much you like them. Love them.” She nodded towards the crowd far away from them. “It’ll do you good.”

Shiloh couldn’t help the hush that came over her for a moment. she felt like she was being stared into the soul of, being truely seen, for just a moment or two. it was so strange.  she knew that it was just a hand on her shoulder, but the look in her eyes made Shiloh melt. she was good.

“yeah… pretty different from home, but this time the capitolites ain’t comin’ to me, ah’m comin’ to them!” it was actually pretty cool to see the birthplace of the strangely-colored, strangely-clothed people that so often visited Shiloh’s ranch in ten. “see, mah family has a rodeo? an’ so they com’n visit us quite kindly. an’ It’s pretty cool to get to visit them for once. that’s why ah like you. you usta have capitolies over at your house before you got all famous. jus’ like me.” the only difference between them was that every capitol-loving aspect of jules’s personality was fabricated. Shiloh’s was honest as ten cents.

“A rodeo? I’d like so see that. What does that entail?”

 In Jules Churchill’s world, everyone was just as much as a liar as she was. Perhaps in a previous, softer world, that wasn’t the case, but no one got this far if they didn’t know how to play the game or, perhaps,  if they were extremely lucky. She couldn’t quite pin the girl down yet--she wanted to say stupid, but there she was, calling herself a performer for the Capitol, just like Jules herself. And the way Shiloh was looking at her like she was made of stars--she must be after something. 

 “Well, it certainly gives you something to expect, knowing Capitolites all your life.”

“Well, I am a very funny man.” He told Jules with a laugh. “Yeah, you know what, I think I’ll pass on that.” He said with a chuckle as he reached for the flask that was tucked away safely in the inner pocket of his sports jacket. “Much rather sit here and let them charm me instead of charm them which just isn’t fun anymore.” Cambric pointed out as he flashed the sponsors his best award-winning smile.

Cambric did his best not to spit his drink out at Jule’s words. “Yes, this wonderful pageant of death.” He was only half being sarcastic. “I mean if killing children and traumatizing adults isn’t enough we get to do it in style this year. What do you think of all this new style Jules? I think they should have used more gold leaf on the decor myself.” He asked because he couldn’t be completely egregious with the sponsors so close.

“Amazing.” Jules commented as he pulled the flask out of his pocket, fighting the urge to laugh too openly at the move. If she could somehow get away with it.... Nevermind. Charm was worth more than just booze even on its worst days, a fact that Jules reminded herself every time she looked in the mirror and didn’t see a face full of scares staring back. “If only I wore a jacket.”

Oh, Cambric was braver than most. Or stupider. Maybe both. Jules’ eyes dart around the space for any obvious cameras, obvious capitolites listening in. There don’t seem to be any in the obvious forefront, but she crosses her arms anyway with a slight frown, disapproving. “Gold leaf for a golden city on a hill, hm?” she runs her hand across one of the tablecloths, as if admiring it. “It is beautiful. Are you tributes enjoying the attention?”

glimmer nods. “oh, i just love the parade. so much fun. it’s always so…” she trails off. she’s not sure what to say here, really. it’s not as though she really loves the parade, but she’s got to say something, and she’s not risking the lives of her family. “boisterous,” she finishes finally, a sharp hiss of breath escaping from her teeth. 

“what about you? having fun?” she asks, not meeting the other girl’s eyes. she can’t imagine she is, but glimmer has got to hand it to the girl — she’s better at faking it than most of the outlying victors are.

 “Always.” Jules repeated, trying not to let her sense of irony show. What do you know about always, Miss Seventy-Four?  Besides, she had had moments in the Capitol that would make this affair seem sleepy, deadly quiet. 

“Oh, I’m always having fun, don’t you know?” Jules responds, taking a deep breath and breaking from Glimmer to look out onto the crowd of chaos that has erupted around the tribute parade--stylists running around, paparazzi stalking like a predator out for a kill, the tributes excited and terrified, about to fall outside of themselves. She smiles as she takes it in, as if this is what energizes her. “I love these parts before we even get started. The parade, the interview. I love to see all of them shine.”

Shiloh was so proud of her name, now. Jules Churchill had said it was a nice one. she was smiling wide and flying high. suddenly, she was so glad she’d decided to switch names with her horse that one time. Maybe jules wouldn’t have said that about clementine, she didn’t know. “awe, thank y’all so so much!”

a camera flashed, capturing the tribute flustered over meeting her favorite victor. Shiloh didn’t even notice that.

“y’all know it.” she grinned putting her thumbs into the holes for a belt on her skirt. she did it mostly to make it easier to find something to do with her hands. it was weird, wasn’t it? she was usually so good with people, but here she was not knowing what to do because here was JULES CHURCHILL being so so nice to her. “an’ you’re from five, ah know that. ah’ve seen pretty much every interview that’s ever aired with you in it…” she blushed, looking down nervously. was that the right thing to say?

 “Oh, have you...?” Jules said, cocking her head to the side slightly. It wasn’t the first time someone had told her something like that--it was a nearly everyday occurrence, in fact. But it was usually from the people of Five, the Capitol, or one of the career districts, who didn’t have the sense to not look up to a victor, who wanted ever so much to be just like her. Usually people from the outer districts had enough sense to ignore the Hunger Games whenever they could. 

At least, that’s how Jules saw it.

“Well, isn’t that wonderful.” Jules said, placing her hand momentarily on the girl’s shoulder and giving her a look that could be interpreted as a knowing one. “And how are you enjoying the Capitol? Very different from Ten.”

“The party of the year,” Cambric agreed with a jovial smile he hoped felt more genuine than he felt giving it. After all, the Capitol loved a good movie and that’s what they were, just pawns in some larger movie. “Though whatever you’re drinking, I hope you’re sharing.” If he was going to get through these next couple weeks.

The sponsors had been trying to get him to try some moonshine, but Cambric didn’t like the stuff. It was too strong and tasted horrible. Drinks should be enjoyed all night and not shotgun. “All I have to offer in return is a shot of bourbon?”

"You’re even funnier than they say you are, if you think I got this drink myself, Cambric.” Jules nodded in the direction of a gaggle of sponsors that she had just escaped from. She shrugs as she finished the rest of the strange pinkish drink, a sense of warmth tugging at her throat. The Capitol drinks were nothing if not fast-working. “Go and charm them and all this and more can be yours.”

Bourbon would be better than another glass of the cotton-candy sweetness. Bourbon was far more controlled. For now, she shook her head, knowing another victor was one of the few in the room she could safely refuse. “The party of the year, indeed.” she echoed looking out to the crowd and then back to his eyes. “I mean, the world does revolve around it.”

glimmer smiles at her fellow victor. she’s from one of the factory ones, and she won a few years before glimmer. glimmer can’t quite place her. honestly, all the districts started to blur after a bit. 

“absolutely,” she says with her most charming smile. “i adore it here.”

she waits for a few moments before painting an innocently confused expression on her face. “it’s jules, right? i’m glimmer.”

 Jules couldn’t decide if Panem’s newest victor was playing at being dumb, or just dumb. She had thought as much during the games, when she let the girl from Twelve drop a Tracker Jacker’s nest on her, but the girl still won--that had to count for something. 

Still, she should know people’s names. Common courtesy. Maybe she was playing a game. Jules tucked the thought away for later. 

“Mm-hm.” Jules nods in cool affirmation, “Glimmer, it’s great to finally meet you.” Jules grasps her by the hands warmly. “You’re enjoying your second parade?”

she’d been expecting a capitolite. 

somgehow, she was still warding them off, even thought it was closer and closer to the parade’s start time. she was in her full parade get up, smiling and waving to everybody still somehow. they’d told her it would be a straight shot to the holding area but she’d somehow ended up caught in a room with sponsors, victors, and papariazzi milling about, snapping pictures and having chats. so she’d expected a capitolite behind her.

that’s why she had her accent dialed up to eleven, grinning and nodding before she even turned around. “yes Ma’am! ah’ve never been to a party THIS wild. not even when my brother Beau first tried his hand at barrel racin’ with a bronco!” that hadn’t ended well and it certainly had been wild, but she turned to face the woman and gasped. “well, butter me up an’ call me breakfast! you’re jules churchill!” she was smiling, excited to meet her from closer than they’d been on the victory tour. “ah’m shiloh. honored to meet you, ma’am.” she smiled, reaching to tip her cowboy hat before remembering she was only wearing a tiara.

 She almost had to laugh. Even if she wasn’t dressed for the parade, even if she weren’t one of the youngest people in the room, Jules would have immediately pegged her as a tribute: only people from 10 spoke like that. Jules runs her hands through her hair as she turns to the girl. This is one of the harder things, speaking to tributes not from her own district. She would be hoping fot this girl’s death in a few days--but that was no reason not to play nice. 

“Shiloh. That’s a nice name.” Jules said, letting a slight laugh as the girl fumbled slightly with her tiara. If she were older, Jules would have offered her one of the drinks on the table next to her--God knows these doomed tributes could use a stiff one. Still, she seemed just slightly too little for one, couldn’t be much older than fourteen or fifteen. 

“And it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Jules responded, laying a hand over her heart. “Let me guess, District 10?”