This wasn’t supposed to happen, no, none of this was supposed to happen, ever. You had promised Tommy, repeatedly thought of nightmares where you had to hold him and promise him he wouldn’t die in that arena.

Yet…yet he’s walking up that stage, his name, they called his fucking name. i can’t just let him go and die/do something do something DO SOMETHING-

Techno volunteers for tribute then, and in doing so, everyone’s mood immediately shifts, Tommy screams and cries and has to be carried off by a peacekeeper to your mother. Everything else happened in a blur, going to the capital meeting your mentor (Technoblade, the emperor's son) and your stylist, Philza’s other son, Wilbur.

All you can think about is your little brother.

You’re called out onto the stage for your interview, you inhale as deep as you can and enter. The crowd roars with excitement, then screams their approval, as their shining star, their most promising candidate, comes walking up like a soldier heading to war.

A warrior born and raised from the capitol. You’re dressed in flowing, silk-like clothing, dressed up with makeup and beautifully taken care of by Wilbur’s excerpt hands.

“My, my!” Charlie has to wait a long while for the crowd to die down, all of them entranced by your appearance. Compared to Charlie, compared to all the other tributes, you don't seem human. You look like a god, playing at being a mortal. What idiot would ever think you could lose in that arena?

“I have to say, what a look you’ve given our audience tonight! I’m right here in the flesh, and I can’t quite even believe what I’m looking at! Isn’t it beautiful?” Charlie compliments. You smile. “Tell me,” Charlie starts, “What inspired this look?”