Mako Perez || Psychological Evaluation

[Arrows]

From the Desk of Dr. Imogen Lapointe
Evaluation 02 : Year of the 7th Hunger Games

Her pen makes several final flourishes on the page marked for Roxanne Burke before flipping finally to something fresh. A new page meant for a new tribute. Placing both her pad and pen down on the table, she takes it upon herself to step out of the cell for a second to get a freshly chilled bottle of water to place alongside the muffins. She has already gained more information than she could have imagined and she still isn't done. There's a lot to be said about data derived from such a statistically young age group. 

Returning to her seat, she takes one last look at Mako Perez's file before slipping it away into the bag by her chair. As with any visitor of her's, she has to try to find the best way to approach. Often times the initial impression is what everything else is based on. Naturally, she can't account for everything but she can be as prepared as possible for what they may or may not say. Reactions are supposed to be her specialty after all. His file is an interesting one to say the least, especially with the footnotes on his presumably dead parents and their occupational decisions. 

The sound of the holding cell's door squeaks and she stands sparing a soft, yet considerate smile. "Hi, I'm Dr. Lapointe. I just have a couple questions for you, please have a seat and you're welcome to the water or muffins." She waits for Mako to take a seat before sitting down herself picking up both the pen and the notebook before her. This is the beginning. "Before we begin, I just want to explain why you're meeting me. I'm a psychologist and I really want to get to know each and every one of you. To me, you're so much more than just numbers. You're unique individuals." Her fingers clicks the pen softly as though a prelude to the flowing ink that is to follow. "Since there really is no great place to start considering the circumstances, Mako what is the Capitol to you? You can use as little or as much detail as you'd like. This is your time, I'm just here to listen."

[d6a georgie cham 🍓🐢 frankel]

His forehead is pounding. Mako’s entire cranium weighs half a tonne on his shoulders. Ever since he was shipped away to the Capitol, something has ached, or he is felt nauseas enough to immediately hug the nearest toilet. He is fucking scared that is for sure but his body quakes while his brain marches on, not exactly accepting fate but laying out execution plan for his return journey. His father will be proud that his son is on Capitol soil, but this trip is not one-way. Mako does not intend to reunite with his parents just yet.

Mako is cradling his head when he is summoned. He has spent most of his time silent in the cell, sat at the back, the furthest space away from the light. There is an occasional whisper or cry through the walls now and then, a reminder that he is not alone in this. Those cries will be wanting to kill him soon.

The lanky eighteen-year-old is escorted out of the cell, as soon as he stands up the rooms spins and stars fill his vision but he is not given any time to adjust to being on his feet.

From one cell to another, Mako is plonked onto a seat in front of a woman and a table of refreshments. He does not look at the woman, instead he immediately swipes the water, finishing the whole bottle with one glug. Maybe that will settle the wormhole that his forming in his stomach and the hammering that disturbs his mind.

… Mako what is the Capitol to you?...” The doctor goes on and on, she looks official with the notepad and pen at the ready. This must be some kind of evaluation, should Mako play along with the test, be truthful or give little as possible?

”The Capitol made my father,” He says as he places the empty bottle back onto the table ”…and it took my mother.” Then the bottle tumbles to the floor with the flick of his wrist. Life can be filled so easily. Life can be emptied so easily, and it can hit the ground as fast as it was created.