Let Them Eat Cake [open for 1 more!]

[Gale Hawthorne: Ace Attorney]

((Tl; dr: he made a speech at a banquet about career training, and part-way through said speech he cut down the podium, and by the end he told everyone to enjoy the rest of the banquet.))



He put on an air of confidence to hide how nervous he was- even though his uncle owned the building, this was still the first time he had spoken at a banquet. The fitted tailcoat he wore for the occasion had a certain classic feel- much unlike even the other eccentric clothing he was used to. He wore a sword at his belt for ceremonial purposes, but it did make an excellent prop. "It's come to my attention," he began, "That our district is beginning to lose its nerve. Does anyone recall the extra meals and stipends we were thriving on a decade ago? Where have they gone?" The audience's reactions were mixed- some were raptly listening, and a few elderly gentlemen seemed almost offended.

“Evidently, it’s gone to a mess of soot-covered miners- miners, and Topaz Ross, but I’m beginning to digress. On that lighter note, his eyes shifted briefly. “The reasons for this are many, but to me, quite obvious: Twelve must have launched a career program, and if the recent years are any indicator, it’s quite good- better than ours, perhaps.” This comment seemed to strike a number of chords, and provoke enough thought to fuel more than a few people to start their own conversations. After waiting a few moments for the audience to quiet down, he started up again. “That’s going to change this year.”

He waved a hand across the audience. “My instructors have taught me that our traditional methods are too focused on combat- far from the only present element in the Hunger Games. District Twelve tributes have excelled in bits and pieces we often fail to acknowledge. Example: survival.” He took a discreet breath, keeping himself from getting anxious. “I know we all love to eat, but most of us never learn to hunt or go without food. This is a problem in the Games when food becomes scarce.” And, captivated. Most of the guests had ceased speaking to look- he had their attention, if nothing else. “Careers need to be able to spend at least a week without more than what we’d normally consider a day’s worth of food- perhaps not more than rarely, but enough to ensure that managing it isn’t a problem for them.”

"You could argue that it's brutal, but historically, the evidence is hard to argue with. Victory has gone to those whose training was the most grueling. The Greek City-State of Athens was filled with learned scholars, had more wealth than any other city of its time, and had the most powerful navy in all of Greece. Still, the Spartans - Warriors trained since age seven who left weak children in the mountains to die - managed to overcome them on the battlefield through raw power and determination." He briefly adjusted the collar of his tailcoat.

"For those who would like to call the war a coincidence, there was a television program popular in twenty-first century America that proved their Green Berets were inferior to the Spetsnaz, the special forces of a nation whose name has been lost in antiquity. Spetsnaz soldiers trained daily- among their methods, swimming in pools of blood under barbed wire. Such methods, of course, would have been illegal in the so-called 'Land of the Free' whose ultimate downfall was an unwillingness to use such methods."

He didn’t like taking shots at the Old America like that- he actually did like the way they permitted themselves to live because of his central philosophy, but they were an easy target- especially since Panem rose from their ashes. “Survival is only the hard part, though. Another thing we’re not getting right is Capitol sponsorship. For some reason, we seem to think it’s okay to send huge, hulking death-machine types into the Games – both male and, in scarier cases, female – and though we do a good job of sponsoring them, the Capitolites go ahead and send tridents to the dashing gentleman in District 4 or what have you.”

Thomas wasn’t about to make the mistake of bashing his allies- he did have a plan to avert what would have killed his speech otherwise. Chuckling lightly, he started up again. “Now, thankfully, that’s not the case this year- the tributes this year should definitely be looked on as examples, no matter which one of them (and it will be one of them) makes it back alive. On that note, can I get a hand for Razor Creel and Sylvania Legend!?!?” Waving both arms into the air to signal a rise, most of the attendees, especially the younger ones, jumped into a roaring clap.

Letting the guests simmer down once again, he made a point of it. “So, if you can afford to sponsor one of them, or both of them if you’re really serious, I’m sure they’d appreciate it. In fact, a lot of sponsors often get to meet their victors if they manage to save their lives in the ring.” His coaxing quelled into something more serious. “Either way, the fact of the matter is that we’ll denying Twelve,” His eyes were burning with hate as the podium in front of him split in half on a diagonal, with the top slowly falling to the side. The sword formerly at his belt was in his opposite hand; either the movement was rehearsed, or his handling on the blade in his hand was frightening. “…another victory.”

[dice=200+1000]
Okay, the dice wouldn't roll, so I'm gonna assume I cut that podium in half B |

The fury in his eyes seemed to die down as he began sheathing his blade, but he did need to take a breath to calm himself. To finish the thought, he smiled softly. “On a much, much lighter note, enjoy the banquet- all of you. The miso ramen and the cake in the corner in particular are amazing, if you haven’t tried either yet. Can we have a round of applause for Canas Biddle, our Head Chef?” Another ovation took the audience as Thomas signaled a large, mustached man with a wide smile to rise. “Thank you, thank you. By the way, I’m Thomas Esemplare. Happy Hunger Games!”

Whew. Coming down from the (now severed) podium, he joined the other guests. I guess public speaking’s no scarier than death after all, he thought, grinning hopefully. The orchestra looked like it was going to be ready to start soon, so he began to prowl across the banquet to get a meal in before the dancing started.

[wyldwing]

Yazmine listened intenty to what the boy, Thomas, was saying. It made perfect sense, she was well trained, deadly with a sword and well fed. Was that really District 2's downfall? Their wealth? Whatever, the boy had a point, and she wanted to try out the new training senario as soon as possible. She looked over at Spike, who had accompainied her over to the banquet [color=
8D2861]"You hear that?"[/color]
Spike looked at her, completey uninterested "I told you Yaz, I'm not going to be in the Hunger Games." he murmered quietly, so as not to let the other Careers hear him "They are just stupid."

Yazmine rolled her eyes annoyed, most of her siblings couldn't wait until they were 12, to hav a chance to be in the Hunger Games. Spike was just neutral, he showed no intrest what-so-ever in becoming victor, it was completely embarassing! "You'll change your mind" she insisted, getting up to grab some food. She was about to grab all she could, she was starving , then, she thought about it, she was probably going to be starving in the Hunger Games, she ad to get used to it. Biting her lip, she took some bread, cheese and a glass of water. The other food looked so delicious, just the sight of it made her mouth water. Did she really have to start now? Just one delicious peice of steak?

Without letting herself think, she grabbed a peice of steak, taking her seat again. Spike looked at her with a raised eyebrow, his plate was covered in so many foods... so many tasty foods... Yazmine blinked hard, turning her head back to her plate, trying desperatly not to notice the buttery rolls Spike was popping into his mouth, one by one.

Just think. This is giving you an edge to the Hunger Games. You'll have a better chance that way
And nothing was more important to her than the hunger games.

Yazmine looked over a Thomas, the guy who had made the speech, "Where'd you come up with such a great idea?" she asked curiously, almost admiringly "It's brilliant."

[Gale Hawthorne: Ace Attorney]

Stretching discreetly as he took to the ground, Thomas began to make himself a plate. "I'd only be a hypocrite if I didn't have some of that," he told himself, taking the tongs from the pot of hot miso ramen and putting a steaming pile in a small bowl. Grabbing the biggest piece of lobster he could safely take and a few spoonfuls of the steamed rice, he found himself looking to choose a drink when he was approached for the first time.

"It wasn't entirely my idea," he admitted, setting his plate down on the nearby table. "well, not the training techniques, anyway, if that's what you're talking about- my mentors live by those laurels every time they engineer a training sequence- I just thought it was up to me to take it upon myself to make sure the word got out to the rest of the district. " he smirked, with scattered hints of confidence and pride. "The notion that District 12 was launching a career program, on the other hand, was completely my own, and I believe strongly in it."

Taking a small chunk of his lobster when he finally found a fork, he spun it and put it back on his plate. He chuckled when it occurred to him that she hadn's made one yet. "I... know I said we need to be able to function without food, but a banquet isn't exactly a proper starting point," he pointed out, softening his smile. "Swing by my table once you've taken what you want- you're a career, right? I could tell you a bit more about who exactly these trainers are."

[Baby Wessex d9b [earthling]]

Cause baby you're a firework, come on show 'em what you're worth
make 'em go, oh, oh, oh

A banquet - the perfect excuse to take the girls on the town. Duchess had every intention of making sure every single citizen of District Two knew who she was. If the opportunity arose that she could volunteer - and was old enough and desired enough - she would need the full support of a district overwhelmed by Careers. And let's be honest; Duchess wasn't going to win by the strength of her arm or the speed of her thoughts, no matter how much training or school she had. No, she was going to win by sin, that is, desire.

She had dressed the part, too, insisted that she attend the banquet as the long Grant representative. They could have easily afforded to buy several plates, if not an entire table, but that would detract from her. Now if anyone wanted a piece of the Grant fortune, they would have to approach her and, well, the girls. They were in fine form, taped and pressed and molded to the dress. It wasn't exactly comfortably, and certainly neither were the spike heels her mother had bought her that morning. But they made each of her slender muscles stand on end, pushed her butt up, curved her spine in a pleasing manner.

They would probably also be the death of her, but that was a worry for another evening. She listened as intently as she could to Thomas, but he said an awful lot of words she didn't understand. Didn't know? Maybe. She got the jist of it though, felt the crowd be drawn to him. Of course the Grants would sponsor the district's tributes regardless, but she felt rallied and proud of her friend. Duchess stood at the end of his speech, giving one loud cheer and then clapping daintily once she's drawn a modicum of attention to herself. She stood far longer than protocol dictated, leaning to one side to speak to her elderly neighbor. She laughed winningly, gaze looking just over him to follow Thomas through the crowd.

She was rather surprised when she realized she recognized the young lady he was talking to. More than that, she liked Yaz, as far as her competitor Careers went. She couldn't hear them from her table, but she got the impression that Thomas had invited her over. Interesting. Before she could read more into it, her neighbor once again began babbling about the speech, saying all sorts of inappropriate things about Twelve. Not that Duchess minded. They were one large pack of cheaters as far as she was concerned.

Eventually she sat, rump on the edge of her seat, posture perfected so that all attention would be focused on the, ahem, glitter at her chest. She mostly smiled, giggled a bit, nodded where appropriate. Biding her time until Thomas returned and offered her a proper distraction.

banner credit: WILMETTA!
lyrics:katy perry firework

[wyldwing]

Yazmine smiled "Yea. you got a point," she reached over grabbing a few rolls, almost sighing in relief "You made some great points, it competly makes sense, about District 12, I mean. Why else would they have won the last, what three Hunger Games? Anway, yea, I'll swing by."

After grabbing large helpings of spaghetti, cream corn, and a few other things, she returned to her seat, digging in immeadiatly. After all the steak and corn where completely obliterated from the plate, she looked at Spike, her eyes intense. "Listen Spike, I don't care if your a career or not. You can't just not care about the Hunger Games. Listen to what Thomas said, he makes perfect sense! You can't just ignore it, I know, deep down, you are a Career.
Spike's eyes flased with anger and he gave her a peircing glare "Listen Yaz, I know you are a career, but I'm not! Ok? Live with it. You can't keep trying to force me into something, I don't care about!". He whispered, a definate edge to his voice. The ferocity in his voie startled Yaz, but, his plain ignorance replaced shock with annoyance.
"Listen. I don't give a damn what you think, or what you want. I don't want to lose my brother, if, you get Reaped. Loosing mom and dad was enough!" she whispered, looking around to make sure no one had heard. Everyone was either talking, or enjoying their food so, no one looked up at their whispering. Yazmine sighed in relief, thank god no one had heard what her brother said. Around a bunch of Career families? Reputation Suicide.

Spike's eyes were wide and startled. He looked away "Fine. I'll try and train. Once in a while. But there's no way I'm calling myself a career."
"Fine"

Spike began talking to someone from school, Yazmine rolled her eyes, still fuming. She picked up her plate, got some more food and went over to Thomas' table. She smiled "So, who are these Trainers?"

[Gale Hawthorne: Ace Attorney]

"Great, then!" He carefully spun his plate back into his hands. Having had it at his side all day, he'd grown used to the saber's sheath lightly tapping his side every time he tried to move quickly. With the starting awkwardness gone, he was able to ignore everything else and complete his thought. "I'll be seeing you soon, then- I'm at the one in the back corner there," he motioned slightly toward the table Duchess was sitting at before taking off in its direction, leaving only a cordial wave behind him.

Setting his plate down across from Duchess and dropping into his seat a moment later, he came to notice the position she had put herself (perhaps quite purposely) in. "I'm... not in your way, am I?" Moving his chair slightly askew, he tried to be cooperative in a sense. He was more than aware of her tactics, but still appreciated them all the same. Human emotion was an important thing to appeal to- and the more primal the emotion, the better. He'd spoken with people who thought her to be over-reliant on sponsorship, and always responded the same way: '34th Hunger Games. End sentence.'

Still, his friend... the girl... I never got her name, did I? That was a problem. He offered his hand as she sat. "Thomas, by the way," he began. "It's a pleasure." Hoping for a name back, he began to answer her question. "My trainers come from a company called the Blue Rose." he reached for a glass, discovering that he had forgotten to come back with a drink. He wanted to sigh, but a few more seconds wouldn't be a problem in the long run.

"They design labyrinths to put set numbers of tributes in for set amounts of time. They'll lock tributes in alone, or with groups of as many as six, depending on difficulty and the general point of the training- it can last anywhere between a day and a week. They have mutts imported from the Capitol, along with a few other animals, and generally let them loose inside. You're expected to survive on your own, but every inch of the labyrinth is usually loaded with wall guns or knockout gas- they won't let anything kill you, and they won't give you a hard time if they have to pull you out."

[wyldwing]

Yazmine smiled, shaking his hand "Hey, I'm Yazmine. Yazmine Westfield.". Se sat silently, listening to his every word So, this Blue Rose, they put us through Hunger Games training. Give careers an edge? She shook her head, almost not believing at how much of a disadvantage she was at, and she'd never. even. noticed.

She'd thought she stood a good chance! Yet, hearing all this, how much she was missing. The Hunger Games wasn't just fighting, or even being fit, it was survival. And she didn't know anything about that. "I can't believe how much I missed. It's amazing." she chucked, maybe a little bitter "Where'd you find this Blue Rose?" she closed her eyes, feeling like a complete idiot "I'm sorry for all the questions. You must have some friends you need to talk to I didn't mean to keep you here." she could feel her cheeks getting warm. She moved her hair behind her ear, shaking her head in disbalief You finally get the guts to talk to a guy. And its about the Hunger Games. Figures.

[Baby Wessex d9b [earthling]]

Cause baby you're a firework, come on show 'em what you're worth
make 'em go, oh, oh, oh

The food in front of Duchess remained untouched. District Two ate pretty well, but it was never fresh, and she was on a strict diet. This body didn't come easy, oh no. She ate cooked but unseasoned meat, mostly poultry if they could get it, steamed vegetables, one piece of fruit a day, and water. It was not very exciting, and yet no one ever seemed to comment on it. Even as the elder gentleman at her side shoveled food down his throat, he never once thought to ask about her food getting cold. Well, except perhaps to inquire if he could have it.

Duchess was the perfect conversation partner, delightful and girlish. She looked up with Thomas sad, gave him a friendly enough nod. It wasn't until Yazmine approached that she tossed him a devilish wink and returned to her own conversation, although she would have much rather been involved with whatever Thomas was talking about. When the word trainers crossed the table, Duchess politely extricated herself from the conversation with the geezer, turning his attention to the man on his other side. Then, with grace and not a bit of bounce, Duchess rose, trailed her hand across the back of three chairs, and came to sit beside Yazmine. Duchess leaned in close, and then whispered, "Boo!"

She laughed fully, the sound resonating from her lungs. "Yaz! I had no idea you'd be here. I see you've found our entertainment for the evening," she said, bright eye flashing on Thomas. "Don't let him spoil you with talk about the Blue Rose. The labyrinth is just the stuff of nightmares. Much better to have someone train you one-on-one, like my trainer, Kobaloi." Her Aunt was something of a legend, if not at least a frequent cog in the gossip mill for her oddities and violence. Duchess certainly had the scars to prove it, or rather, had had. Surgery was a wonderful thing.

And she was not for the worse for wear. Kobaloi was dangerous, headstrong, and arrogant, true, but she had done more for Duchess over the last year than anyone else had. She propped her elbow up on the table, gaze dancing between Yazmine and Thomas. "Are you looking for a new trainer, Yaz? It's a good time right now. Most people start after the Games, but then there's so much more competition. Augh, that reminds me, did you know I have to test again with Kobaloi? Otherwise she won't take me." Duchess rolled her eyes, the question clearly intended for Thomas. "How stupid is that?"

banner credit: WILMETTA!
lyrics:katy perry firework

[Gale Hawthorne: Ace Attorney]

Oh, wow. Forgot I had that. Reaching into a pocket on the inside of his tailcoat, he pulled out the vial of water he used to clear his throat before the speech. Taking a sip, he found himself content with - perhaps proud of - his own resourcefulness. [color-h1b9h1]"Yes, that's exactly what they do."[/color] He set his vial down on the table as if it were any other glass. "Well, I suppose all career trainers do that, but they're just much more thorough." he took a glance at the dance floor on the far side of the room as it began to fill up.

"My parents hooked me up with them- they don't like to advertise to most folk, though; people tend to knock their strategy. Like Duchess said, it is a bit brutal, and some parents don't like putting their children through it. What doesn't seem to occur to them is that the Hunger Games themselves are the stuff of nightmares. The Blue Rose only strives to fight fire with fire." he explained, glancing back over to Duchess. "That's part of why you need a bit of both." He thought briefly about dodging her question altogether, since he didn't quite understand it. He could be dangerously skeptical at times- as much as he liked Duchess, he didn't think she was beyond asking him a loaded question.

"It is sort of ridiculous that you're being put through another test like that," he admitted. "Shouldn't she just accept that you're a good student and be happy to have you?" He did suppose that trainers had to make sure their pupils trained alone every now and then, but ultimately, their training wouldn't have a point if they were capable of such a thing.[/size]

[wyldwing]

Yazmine smiled, "Hey Duchess." she smiled. "As a matter o fact, I am. My grandmother set me up with one, but, I need someone with more... talent. There is no way I'm training with that guy again, he was too old to even remember his own name, let alone train me."[/color.]. She laughed, "You guys wouldn't happen to know any good trainers 'round here? I will only work with the best." she lifted her head haughtily, acting more like herself now that she was more comfortable. "Anyway, Blue Rose does sound a bit brutal. Definatley not my kind of thing, but to each his own." she sighed, beginning to fiddle with her hair, just to have something to do with her hands.

"Anyway, what about the tributes in the Hunger Games now. Think they stand a chance?". Even though Yazmine wished she was out there in the Hunger Games, she thought the tributes this year stood a good chance. Or at least she hoped. She wouldn't be able to stand it if another District Twelve won. They were just winning out of pure luck! It wasn't even fair. There were so many skillful, deserving careers out there, being bested by stupid, poor, coalminers! They could barely afford to sponser the tributes, why were they winning?? Maybe Thomas really was right, they could be training District Twelves right now. But... thier luck would end this Hunger Games, hopefully the other tributes made sure of that.

Yazmine threw away what remained on her plate, not feeling the least bit hungry anymore. She was way too interested in the convorsation anyway. She looked at her friends intently, awaiting an answer.

[Baby Wessex d9b [earthling]]

Cause baby you're a firework, come on show 'em what you're worth
make 'em go, oh, oh, oh

With one arm on the table and the other lounging along the back of her chair, Duchess had positioned herself to be in full view of the room once again. And what a view it was. With her arms wide her delicate collarbones cast shadows, drawing the eye inevitably downward. If there was any place in District Two that night where she could drag up some sponsors, it would be here, at the banquet. Almost anyone who was anyone had shown up, and her family had done her the courtesy of leaving her without an escort. She planned to take one home, it was just a matter of who. Someone rich and powerful and likely old. It didn't bother her as much as it once did.

Of course, chatting with her friends wasn't garnering her any support. If anyone, hanging around someone as handsome, well spoken and young as Thomas would hurt her chances. She really ought to leave. Soon. In a few minutes. The weird part was that she didn't want to troll for sponsors, even though she desperately wanted their help, wanted to be a part of the Games. Instead she wanted to chat, to talk to Yaz about trainers, and to hear if Thomas had any other gems of wisdom.

Weird. And she hadn't even had anything yet to drink.

"You know, that's exactly what I thought," Duchess grinned at Tom, sliding some of her newly dyed red hair over her bare shoulder. "But Kobaloi won't budge. You could test for her too, Yaz, if you wanted." And Duchess had enough of an ego to offer it out of politeness without any expectation that Yaz would take her spot. Afterall, Kobaloi was Duchess' Aunt, even if not by blood.

Duchess toyed with the seat's fabric, shrugged as nonchalantly as she could manage. "I think Razor's got a shot." She didn't say more. Couldn't. Those eyes. If he died, she doubted District Two would ever stand a chance again, and certainly it would prove that looks were not enough. So much rode on his shoulders. Duchess was very careful not to look at Thomas, eyes glued to her fingertips. "What about you guys?"

banner credit: WILMETTA!
lyrics:katy perry firework

[wyldwing]

Yazmine shook her head "I really don't think I could, she's your trainer after all, should remain that way.. She didn't want anyone else's trainer anyway, even if she could beat out Duchess for the spot. She liked doing things by herself, and finding a trainer would be difficult, but, it was a task she wanted to do... independantly. But first, she'd have to inprove her look. She felt as if... she was really letting herself go, not in training, but lookwise. If she wanted a trainer to even consider her, some new clothes, maybe a purple streak in her bangs... she'd have to go to the mall later. Yazmine sighed, narrowing her eyes, thinking about the tributes this year, "I... i think they stand a fair chance, but it's not guarenteed, it's early in the games, not everyone has shown their true colors yet. Who knows what Tributes have hiding up their sleeves.". It was true, she knew it, Tributes from the middle and lower districts, might not have been all that strong, or talented, but, who knows, they could be going for an edge, have some secret talent. This had prooven true in a few hunger games.

Yazmine sighed, rolling the sappire blue moon inbetween her fingers. This always helped her think things through. Just touching it, she could almost hear her parent's voice again, talking about strategies, even when she was so young. They could've gotten her the best trainer in town, if it hadn't have been for... She stopped her self, taking a deep breath, blinking a few times to make sure she wasn't going to burst out swearing, or... crying. Not out of sorrow, but pure rage. Her aunt, well, it was never prooven, but she'd killed her parents, now, even the thought of that woman put her in the most awful moods.

She forced a smile, hoping she hadn't had a vacant expression for too long. That would be totally embarassing. "So, what are your thoughts Thomas?"

[Gale Hawthorne: Ace Attorney]

Nearly finished with his meal, he spun his fork on a whim. "Well, what's she trying to test you on? She has no business making you cover anything she hasn't already taught you- I think you'll be fine."

Thomas looked back up from his plate for a moment. "My thoughts?" he repeated. His answer came to him naturally- perhaps it wasn't natural for a boy his age to have an opinion on everything, but it did take the work out of decision-making. "I think we'll be seeing Creel again by the end of the month," he said flatly. "I don't mean to knock Sylvania Legend when I say so, but he's as close to a perfect career as we've gotten in the past six Games."

Taking a glance at a small cut he received on his finger a few days prior, he held back a smile. Getting the cut itself wasn't pleasant, but the rest of the day? Quite something. "Now, I admit - and I'd gladly admit it in front of him as well when he comes home a victor - to making fun of his name on more than one occasion, but it's a marketable name." He shifted his eyes and shook his glass once. "Plus, I wouldn't even have done it if he didn't steal what totally should've been my spot." Half-jokingly, he traced the path of a fake tear down the length of his face with his index finger.

[apocalypse]

The banquet seemed stupid to him, he didn't see any reason of why he had to dress up to see some kid his age talk about the stupid district they live in. When he got there, he was shocked to see that there were so many kids his age, but he suspected they were dragged along by their parents, that was Nyklus' case. As the teenager stepped up to the podium, Nyklus could tell that this banquet had potential to be a disaster. "It's come to my attention, that our district is beginning to lose its nerve. Does anyone recall the extra meals and stipends we were thriving on a decade ago? Where have they gone?" Nyklus wanted to react to that, and scream that "We're different now, we changed." Instead, he got a beady glance from his mom that suggested something like 'no funny business'.

Already, Nyklus could tell this was going to be torture. It was going to be hell. It was going to be the worst day of his life. He could be out, living his life, training, eating, sleeping. Isn't that what this is about, to train more and win? Nyklus was thinking of any excuse to make this kid look stupid, but he was right, a little bit. “Evidently, it’s gone to a mess of soot-covered miners- miners, and--" Nyklus knew what he was going to say, but he didn't want him to. "Topaz Ross," "Oh, no he didn't!" Nyklus mumbled to himself, but sadly, the boy did use mention Topaz as an excuse for district two being bad or whatever, But wasn't Topaz fond of district two? That's where Nash is from... "but I’m beginning to digress." That made Nyklus feel a bit better, that the boy - Thomas, he believed - thought that the Topaz situation was up for argument.

“The reasons for this are many, but to me, quite obvious: Twelve must have launched a career program, and if the recent years are any indicator, it’s quite good- better than ours, perhaps.” There he goes again, thinking of excuses of why district two wasn't winning any games recently. How desperate is he? Quite frankly, Nyklus saw it as an almost-impossibility for district twelve to start a career program - as preposterous as a district ten resident to be richer than a district one resident. It made no sense, but the kid speaking wanting people to think it did make sense. And, for district twelve to just start a career program, and already stack up compared to us - perhaps even higher - seemed frivolous and one of the worst theories ever. “That’s going to change this year.” Nyklus was glad that the kid had a good attitude, at the least.

Nyklus seemed think that now-a-days, it was a cool cliche to think negative, to be all depressed and stuff. Sure, a lot of kids defied Nyklus' un-proven theory, but it was happening more and more, and other people noticed. It seemed like something stupid to Nyklus. This banquet seemed stupid to Nyklus at first, but then it sort of got interesting. Thomas had pointed out something that was very true.

“My instructors have taught me that our traditional methods are too focused on combat- far from the only present element in the Hunger Games. District Twelve tributes have excelled in bits and pieces we often fail to acknowledge.” Thomas was right, district two mostly focused on strentgh, fitness, staying in shape, staying flexible, staying healthy. Nyklus didn't really know what else there was that district two was missing out on. “Example: survival.” Now that Nyklus thought about it, the kid was right, heck, Nyklus forgot it was something vital to the games.

After that, Nyklus zoned off, and though that interested him, he didn't care. His thoughts were interrupted by cheers, but he had no idea of what was going on. Next thing Nyklus knew the kid cut the podium in half and Nyklus was there staring at him.

Nyklus walked over to the cake - where he saw some kids his age, and decided to socialize, breaking the conversation. "Nice speech there, kiddo. The cut-the-podium-in-half part was nice, made you look more vicious." Nyklus spoke with a smirk.

[Gale Hawthorne: Ace Attorney]

It wasn't often that he noticed another person's teeth first- especially not when it was another gentleman's. He seemed to respond well to the speech, too; a good sign. "Thanks!" he opened. Having the saber stunt mentioned in particular was encouraging. "Ah, that." A smile formed on his lips. "I figured it was a natural move, since we're supposed to be a state of warriors," he offered. "For a warrior, elegance and ferocity are two sides of the same coin- no need to hold back on one just because we're at a banquet."

He offered a hand. "Anyway, Thomas. I don't think I caught your name yet." he forgot about his plate for a moment in an attempt to set a more jovial tone. "You can have a seat if you like. My cousin's coming back for the seat to my left soon, but that chair next to Duchess doesn't belong to anyone yet." He thought to add a bit more, just in case he somehow put him on the defensive without meaning to, but being wordy didn't seem like a good idea.