d10f prisma undine interview

[kap]

If you knew what a prison were like, you'd imagine it felt like this. The windowless room they had you in made you feel trapped, up until the time they came to retrieve you for your interview. Until then, you had simply sat there deep in thought, trying to ignore the hunger pains you were feeling.

You were escorted to a setup of chairs and a coffee table in front of a backdrop. Looking out in front of you, you could see a small crowd gathered. They looked to be the wealthier folk of the Capitol, or at least, a hell of a lot wealthier than the people that lived back home in District Ten. Not that being richer than the people of Ten was a major feat to accomplish.

As you sit across from the man opposite you, you zone out for just a moment, staring at the people who are gathered there to watch you. When he begins to speak, however, it snaps you out of it.

"It says here that you're quite protective of your little brother, Rein. Tell us a bit more about him, if you would?"

Is this a god damn interview? Who did they think they were?

You raised an eyebrow at the man who looked expectantly at you. In that moment, you deemed it best to play along and answer. Ignoring him could potentially result in some punishment from the Peacekeepers, you assumed, which certainly wouldn't help you in getting out of the arena alive later, whenever that may be.

"Uh, yes," you are looking down at your feet and stumble over your words at first before smoothing out your top and looking at the interviewer properly.

"Yes," you repeat. "With Mom and Dad not able to help out much, I pretty much raised him myself. He's the sweetest kid you'll ever meet. He's always looking out for other people. Always wants to help whenever he can. I love him more than anything."

Without skipping a beat, the interviewer moves onto the next question, as if unfazed by her answer to the previous one.

"It says you've been working from a very young age here in your file, was that to help support your family?" he asks her.

Your file? Had they been interrogating her family for information since she left? Or had they just pulled all that information from the District records that quickly?

Despite your distaste for this whole "interview" thing, you nod, and then answer properly. "Yes, my family was in need of the help. It's the best way to make sure we all get by okay." It was a shorter answer this time, but you didn't want the pity, so you avoided giving too many details. Then again, maybe pity would make you more of a desirable victor. Maybe it would help.

No. No one here had a say in what happened in the Games, surely?

"Would it be safe to assume that your brother and your parents would be your primary motivation to survive, then? Where does that leave you on the priority list?" The next question seemed like a bit of a low blow, but you answered anyway.

"You could say that, yes," you tell him, making eye contact this time. "They're very important to me. I want to get home to them, so that I can help keep the family together."

You didn't mention the fact that you really didn't care much for your mother, with her bad drinking habits and all. Rein and Dad, though, you did care about, so there was no need to make a distinction.

"As for me?" you started to answer the second part of the question. "I'm a priority because my family is a priority. I'm prioritizing myself in this arena so that I can prioritize my family." Damn, you hoped that made sense.

"Pardon my forwardness, but I wonder: Are you willing to do anything it takes to survive?" he asks as a follow-up.

You nod.

"Of course I am," you tell him. "I need to get home." At this point, your hands are shaking. Being up on stage is making you nervous, but you do your best to hide it. You'd always hated public speaking, but pretending the audience isn't there and that you're just talking to this one man is the best thing you can do.

"Any parting words?" is the final question he asks.

You simply shake your head no, and before you know it, you're being escorted off the stage to minimal applause.

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