#brady 75

[cyrus-alderate]

I Dare You... ♕ Brady & Cyrus

The Victor sauntered down to the training center rather reluctantly, taking each step as slowly as possible to avoid any extra time spent with his tributes.  They hadn’t asked for his help, nor had they spoken to one another since the train fiasco, but Cyrus figured it was time to actually do something instead of waiting around his apartment letting things press on his mind.  So he stopped, spotting Brady almost immediately as he entered and strolled over, crossing his arms with a frown once he stood in front.  “So?  Learn anything useful on your vacation?  Tell me anything and everything interesting, now.”

[cyrus-alderate]

I'm Not Sorry for Your Loss ♕ Brady, Cyrus & Savera

Whiskey ran down his throat in warm rivulets, the mixture warming his body as it became mixed with his blood.  Slightly off edge now, the Victor sat with his eyes shut.  Like the years before, he was now awaiting his tributes to arrive with their accusations and scathing tongues as if he could help them change their decisions now.  Perhaps this year could be different, though, since the tributes were older.  Yet, in a way, he doubted this since District Eleven wasn’t quite known for their brute strength and intelligent minds. 

Sighing after drinking the last bit of whiskey in his glass, the man reached over to refill when he heard the first footsteps making their way inside.  With a casual flick of his sapphire hues, the man began mentally preparing himself once again for whomever was about to start yelling at him.  It was a beautiful day and he didn’t want to have to kill one of his tributes before they even made it inside of the arena.  There were already enough things playing around in his mind for some ingenious remark to set him off. 

Once more, his glass was full again and his botched spirits kept him from completely going berserk.  Having hope for District Eleven was an idea reserved for imbeciles.  “Come on in, the train has been awaiting your company.” The man called out, a vain smile on his face.  Convincing them that he cared was the biggest waste of time now simply because he did not care.  “But I have to warn you to think before you speak.  If you say anything insulting I may resort to making sure that you don’t receive a sponsor at all, and that would be easier than pretending to have sympathy as you die.”  

[cyrus-alderate]

This is the Life ♕ Brady, Cyrus & Savera

Fingers trailed down the tailored suit of finely made fabric adjusting any edges that seemed even the slightest bit off.  As always, Cyrus felt that sure confidence trailing around in his movements, second nature to him now more than anything.  Those in District Eleven could only dream of the freedom he held, the liberation from ever worrying again.  Volunteering for the Games was the best decision that he’d ever made.  Winning was not an option but a choice that he made and a game well played.  Everything was worth suffering through for the enjoyable moment he continually felt while en lieu of the Capitol once more.

Not even the horrible night that previously had him in a foul mood earlier could prevent his spirits from soaring as he made his entrance to the lowly District’s center.  A hand flew up in the air, waving at the imbeciles that flooded the area.  They knew not what they were missing; a life of luxury and fame.  Victory was so close, especially with the introduction to this year’s new change.  Yet, they would choose to pass up a secure life just to struggle through year after year within the District.

Volunteering was easy, as learned with three out of the four tributes he’d previously mentored.  Finding the dedication to keep going and succumbing to the idiotic thoughts that played around with their naïve minds was another factor, too.  Still, he wanted a victor to.  He wanted to prove that he, Cyrus Alderate, was worthy of maintaining a spot as one of the greatest Victors in Panem’s history.  It was too disappointing to think that this lowly crowd would never yield anything of use to him. 

Disgusting.

Allowing his ersatz smile to shine through, Cyrus lowered his hand in aggravated response to the repulsed stares.  They wouldn’t get through to him.  Not today.  Not when he was to shine; to help them look somewhat decent for once.  “I am incredibly happy to see all of you once more!” He began, speaking horrible lies into the microphone.  “And I’m certain that you’re all ecstatic about seeing me as well, since my presence denotes the remarkable event that is about to occur.  Are you ready, ladies and gentlemen?  It’s time for this year’s Games to begin by selecting our two glory-bound tributes!”

Cyrus called, the faux excitement in his voice dropping by the second.  To think that he was actually happy about working with these people again.  What.  A.  Joke.  “Now shall we embark on this wonderful journey?  After all, it is only the Quarter Quell.  No big deal.  Fame?  Glory?  You could achieve it today.  Isn’t that simply exciting?!” He continued questioning, walking over to the crystal bowl containing the female tribute names.  “So how about we find out who our first honorable tribute is to kick things off?”

Gripping a slip of paper tight and pulling it out, the man wasted no time in reading the name out aloud.  Tantalizing the crowd could only be so pleasing for a few minutes before it became boring and now he just wanted to go home and watch them die on the television.  “Azalea Honeyman!  Where is my precious tribute at?  Come on up, wherever you are!  You’ve only a life of honor awaiting you!”