The Writer Games | Once In A Lifetime & World Edition

Welcome: MeMe Lakeside

Mercy was not happy with her outfit.

First of all, it was  silver. To her, silver was an unnessecary colour - too shiny, too  sparkly, designed only for the purpose of making clothes for the Capitol  people. Mercy would have much prefered black, or white, or if they  wanted colour, why not a nice, dark blue?

Secondly, it was a  dress. The terrible stylists of the Capitol had dressed her, the famous  MeMe Lakeside, in a short, silver, sparkly dress that made her look like  a ditzy District 1 teenager. Why not trousers? They were so much more  practical.

Thirdly, her stylist's  hideous pet had worked out he could get his claws trapped into the  fabric of her tights, and she was wandering around backstage with a  black and white kitten stuck to her leg, and she couldn't shake it off.

She knew she looked  comical, and that wasn't the impression she wanted to make on the  tributes that surrounded her. She wanted to intimidate them, she wanted  them to know they would need to be good to beat MeMe Lakeside - the  cat-attached-to-ankle style wasn't working. Already, she saw the pitiful  boy from the Capitol laughing at her. She soon stopped him with the  look only someone over sixty can give.

Another thing that was  annoying MeMe was the wait she had before her interview - she was only  patient when tracking, or attacking, or when it was in her best interest  to wait. Now, she was just waiting for what seemed like hours as  tribute after tribute went on stage and told a sob story, or a love  story, or some other pathetic tale they hoped would get them sponsors.

Sponsors! What use were  they when you were cornered by the Careers? Their silver parachutes  wouldn't save you then. That was when you needed strength and skill, and  those were something MeMe had plenty of.

But finally, after  waiting as tribute after tribute tried to wow an audience, MeMe was  called up to the stage. As she was climbing up the steps, she managed to  prise the cat off before anyone from the audience saw it. The creature  was angry, and skulked off towards it's owner to beg for some Kitty  YumYums.

MeMe, on the other hand,  couldn't sulk. Despite the fact she hated every second of these beastly  interviews, her mentor had warned her that these would help decide who  were the threats and who were the weaklings, and MeMe definatley didn't  want to find herself labelled as a 'weakling'.

She sat herself down on  the wooden stool, which was surprisingly comfy, and looked towards the  interviewer. It was obvious MeMe didn't want to waste time with  formalities such as 'hello' and 'how are you'. For her, it was about the  questions.

Helvetica already looked as if she wanted to slap her.

"So," she spat. "Miss Mercy. It's nice to have you back."

Helvetica was lying  through her teeth. She wasn't old enough to remember MeMe - she hadn't  even been born when she won - but she wasn't a fan of grannies. MeMe was  quite a long way down her list of tributes she liked.

"Nice to meet you too, Helvetica."

From MeMe's response, it  was obvious too see the two felt the same way about each other. Both  answers dripped with sarcasm and untruth.

"I guess we must move on. What is your strategy for these Games, MeMe?"

"I haven't got one,"  replied MeMe, matter-of-factly. She'd spent her life despising tributes  who won on strategy, and she definatley wasn't go to become one of  those. Strange as it sounded, MeMe would rather die than stick to a  plan.

An uncomfortable silence filled the stage, until Helvetica got bored.

"Is that it? That's your answer?" she screeched, her fingernails tapping along the armrest. MeMe simply nodded.

"What makes you a contender to win? And be more detailed this time, granny!"

MeMe stayed silent for a  moment, almost enjoying the way Helvetica's face began to go red as she  grew angry, but she knew something has to be said.

"I have won before. I can use weapons. I know the different types of tribute."

Again, Helvetica waited  for more, but as no more words came, she felt her disgust rising.  Interviews were meant to be interesting. To put it bluntly, this was  boring. But if anyone could make little MeMe open up more, it was  Helvetica.

"You can use weapons? Are you, perhaps, a Career?"

'Career' wasn't a banned  term in the Capitol, but it was seldom used - they refused to admit  tributes were training and breaking the rules, even when it was obvious.

"Yes," was MeMe's response, and she left it there. No elaborating, no description. Short, but definatley not sweet.

"A Career Granny," mused Helvetica. "You know, Mercy, I think I'm begining to like you."

"I think I like you  too," was MeMe's reply, but she didn't mean it. It was just a good idea  to be on the good side of the interviewer - they were the ones that made  you look either bad or good.

MeMe wanted good.

"Well, anyway, we must move on. Why do you want to win?"

MeMe sat up a little straighter.

"Well, seeing as you  seem to want more detail, I guess I can elaborate a little. Basically, I  want to win to prove that I can. I want to win to make District 13  remember who their first Victor was, and to make them feel guilty for  forgetting me. But mostly, I want to win to show these tributes, and the  ones that will follow them for years to come, how a real Victor wins  these Games, because strategy and smarts will get you nowhere, believe  me."

"Well, MeMe," cried  Helvetica, faking shock. "That's the most I've ever heard you speak, but  all those are valid reasons. I can see why your are so determined to  win, now. But, I must ask you, who is your smallest and biggest threat?"

"This is a question I  can add detail too! Starting with smallest threats, I have a few.  Depending on the tributes background and personality, you can guess how  they will act even if you haven't seen them fight. For example, your  male tribute? Azure? Well, Azure is famous, a popstar, and obviously  used to being loved. Therefore, he will be weak. He has probably never  worked for anything properly, and although I can see he is determined,  he won't be a fighter, he'll be a hider, and those kind of people are  easy to track."

"Personally, I wouldn't underestimate Azure, but you are entitled to your own opinion. Your biggest threat..."

"I haven't got one,"  interupted MeMe. "Personally, and I know it sounds cocky, I don't think I  have a threat. I might consider the Careers an obstacle if they are  trained, and if they are talented, but I personally don't think the  other tributes are much this year. I've seen better."

Helvetica seemed to be  like MeMe more and more the longer the interview went on - she began to  lean forward in her chair and show interest in what was being said. She  found thousands of questions floating around her head, questions MeMe  would give an interesting answer too, but they only had time for one  more.

"How far do you hope to make it?"

"I will accept nothing  less than Victor," stated MeMe, plainly and simply. Helvetica knew she  wasn't going to elaborate, and this seemed an appropriate place to  finish the interview, so she stood up, and raised MeMe's hand above her  head.

"On that note, ladies and gentlemen, I give you: Mercy Lakeside, of District 13!"

As the cheers grew  louder and louder, MeMe finally let loose a smile, and began to walk  offstage. Then, underneath her breath because she wasn't allowed to show  favourtism towards the tributes, Helvetica muttered just one more  thing.

"I'm backing you all the way, little MeMe."