ᴡʜᴏ: LIVINIA CRANE & OPEN
ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ: LOUNGE, TRIBUTE TOWER
ᴡʜᴇɴ: MORNING, TRAINING
Growing up the way she did, Livinia was used to having eyes on her. Her mother had taken it upon herself to train her only daughter on the appropriate way to act when in public – and, try as she might, the lessons had never left her. So, we find Livinia stalking through the tribute tower with her back straight, arms by her side, and a gentle, inviting smile on her lips. She is the picture of cordiality, even if she carries the venom of a viper on her pearly white teeth.
There is still quite some time before the games officially kick off – and the rumour mill swirls with possibilities about the trials the arena might hold. Some, of course, are more accurate than others. If anybody has put together that CTN always seems to have the latest information about the games before anybody else, with the fact that the CEO's daughter happens to be a senior gamemaker – they know better than to say anything. And, as long as CTN continues to spout whatever rhetoric President Snow requests, then his government seems content to let the Cranes do what they want.
The two weeks that Livinia spent in the tribute tower each year were among her favourite. For one thing, she was able to throw herself wholly into her work ( save for the parties and events dispersed before and after the games that her mother would force her to attend ). For another, it granted her a certain amount of freedom to do what she wanted, when she wanted. Away from the disapproving stares of her mother, the constant need to please her father, and suffocating presence of her husband. Here, she was Livinia Crane, recognised for her mind and her prowess as a gamemaker. Not as Livinia Crane – the beautiful, vapid daughter of a billionaire.
She finds herself seated in one of the lounges during a rare moment of quiet – a book in her hands and concentration etched into her features. If anybody notices that it's a book about business strategy ( which, she reasons, is hardly different to the strategy she has needed to employ in her role here ), they would do well not to mention it. She is only disturbed by her peace when somebody sits directly opposite her, despite there surely having been somewhere else they could have chosen. She doesn't look up to address them. "Was there not somewhere else you could have sat down? I'm not in the mood for signing autographs or selling secrets."
