trinkett | Fourth Dispatch: It's Not What You Think. Voice.

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Fourth Dispatch: It's Not What You Think. Voice.

Dear Fellow Residents of Luceti,

Wouldn't it be entertaining to put on some Games here in Luceti? Not that the Cultural Fair wasn't amusing, or any of the other activities going on here -- but true gladiatorial games. The pitting of one creature against another! Think of the thrill and drama and the release that goes along with that sort of entertainment! And here in Luceti we are ideally suited for a very exciting Games indeed.

Who would you sponsor or volunteer for this entertainment? Or would it all be...

[There is a pause here.]

Pokey-mans? I find human beings MUCH more interesting to watch, personally.

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Since he couldn't answer that one for himself, he'd probably be at a loss to explain it to her, either.

"You honestly think they, we, are that different from you in not wanting to have to fight? Especially for the sake of keeping you entertained? We're that much of a non-entity in your head? Toys? Slaves? Animals? Because that's what you're reducing people to if you do this. Just objects. And yet, you'd scream holy hell if the same was done to you. Nice."

"I never said that. Non-entity. I never said NON ENTITY."

"Then what are we? If you're stuck on just that, does that mean the rest is true?"

"You're all lots of DIFFERENT things and I don't feel comfortable talking about this over the journal!"

"Fine."

"FINE."

It's several minutes before he says anything else. Finally, though.

"If you really want to understand why what you're suggesting is upsetting us, then maybe you should try it yourself. Go to the battle dome. Program in one of your games. Put yourself through it. If you're that convinced you're in the right, then there should be nothing to hurt you there. Nothing that will make you wince or feel bad or question who you are and what you do. And it's a simulation, so you can even back out of it at any time. No real blood shed, no harm done. Just a view of your games from how the Tributes see it."

Another pause.

"No one can make you see what we're trying to tell you, Effie. But maybe, if you have the courage to look at it by yourself, up close and without the veneer, you might. If you don't even want to look at it though, maybe you need to reconsider what it is you're promoting. The worst lies are the ones we tell to ourselves, after all, and the ones that make us into monsters."

She has already tuned you out, Derek. These are the things she DOESN'T want to hear.

These are things that, where she comes from, are too dangerous to hear. Life-threatening. Torture-risking. She's never been that brave.

"I'm quite comfortable where I am, thank you. Well. Save for the fact that I WILL be going to the Dome tonight at six. A fellow has arranged to meet me."

"Good luck with that."

"I don't NEED luck. I have confidence. And poise."

"Pretty looks only get you so far, Effie."

Pause.

"Be careful. Not everyone is going to at least attempt to be nice when they're disagreeing with you."

"I know that already. Pretty obvious. But now? I'm getting a dog."

Because that is going to solve everything.

"Unless you know how to train it, it'll be useless to you. It'll either run wild and not do what you say, and possibly attack you, or it'll be best buddies with whoever it comes across, no matter how much you might hate the person. Especially if they know how to treat a dog. Not to mention attack dogs need special training above what any dog needs, and makes for a really rotten pet. Give them the wrong signal, and they'll rip your hand off."

Pause.

"Why are you so goddamned stubborn and blind, woman? Are you that determined to make an ass and outcast of yourself? Because you're headed that way pretty damned fast, and for a so-called ideal that would have you served up on coals as fast as anyone else if you fucked up."

"WHY IS EVERYONE....the dog is NOT going to eat my hand, alright?!"

What was WITH people today?!

"It will LOVE me, Derek Bliss!"

She had to get that point out of the way. Really.

"Maybe I should ask why you care." He always had. It mystified her. "Because I can look after myself, and I know what I'm doing. I know what people like, okay? I can do this."

"Only if you know how to treat it right."

He's quiet for a long long minute. There's a moment he remembers, by the water, where, other than Sona, she had no masks at all.

"Because I think you're smarter than this, if you would let yourself be smarter. And because I think you aren't being smarter because you're scared. I don't blame you for that. It's understandable. But it's going to get you in a bad way with everyone except the people who are willing to use you for what they want. I don't like seeing people get hurt. And you're going to get hurt."

"...You're sweet, Derek Bliss." And she meant it. No mask.

"Remind me to bake you some Capitol Cupcakes one day."

"We'll trade food sometime, all right?"

This once, he won't tell someone he doesn't do sweets; it's an open moment. He's not going to shut it down.

"Alright. See you later, I guess." There is wistfulness in that voice, and nervousness. She cuts the journal off before he can respond.

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Fourth Dispatch: It's Not What You Think. Voice.

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