The Fan's Playlist

--Blood and Bones-- by The Blake Robinson Synthetic Orchestra

The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes (prequel to The Hunger Games trilogy)

Following Dr. Gaul and Crassus Snow. 

I never liked stuffed animals as they came. My favorite toy, Hudgins McAlister, was once a bear. He was a light chocolatey brown with plastic safety eyes and short ears. I didn't like him very much. Actually, that was an understatement. I didn't like him at all. My parents saw my distaste for the toy and tried to remedy the situation by finding him friends so he wouldn't be lonely, and they tried to find a replacement. The moment Lola came into the picture, I knew what had to be done. I wanted her soft pink ears and adorable button eyes on my bear's body, so I took a pair of scissors and swapped their heads. Finally, Hudgins McAlister and Lola were becoming perfect.

That was just the beginning. Lola received many more loose limbs until her pink body was almost unrecognizable. Nadia and Rico were once tiger twins, but now they sport wings and antlers and a paw or two each taken from Lola's scrapped parts.

I adore my babies, but they've never quite been enough. Stuffing might not be messy, but it's not satisfying. Fabric is easy to sew, but it's not a challenge. Once the stitches are in, that's the final product. There is no element of experimentation, and I have no idea whether or not it would be possible for these things to exist in the wild, if I put them there. Something about them feels incomplete, yet they're still more whole than when I got them.

"Why do you have those?" Crassus Snow asks, pointing out my babies all lined up on the shelf in my office.

"Those?" I ask, gazing over them. "Those are my babies," I respond lovingly.

He nods. "Of course. They're fascinating creatures."

I chuckle lightly. "There's no need to flatter me. I'm not going to change your grade in exchange for a couple of compliments."

"I meant to do nothing of the sort," he assures me. "I come here only asking a favor of you."

"And what favor might that be?"

He meanders lazily around my office. "I want to become your personal mentor," he says. "You have many things to offer, and I know that under your tutelage, I will learn many things and have opportunities open to me that I might not otherwise."

Now that warrants a chuckle. "Really? You want to study under me?"

He pauses and looks at me. "I have found that many of my other professors are more... soft. They don't understand that some things must be done even if just for the sake of proving it can be. I know about your experiments, and I would like to say that I am impressed, and I believe that there is use for them, even if my peers do not."

"What you're saying is that you aren't particularly ethically inclined, yes?" I clarify. He carries and air of properness that often means that he tends to beat around the bush instead of getting to the point he so obviously wants to make for the sake of saving face.

"Indeed," he says with a smile. "And you aren't either, and I think together, we would make an excellent team."