Conley Wellspring - D4 Conley anxiously waited in line, pulling on the collar of his jacket. Not because it was uncomfortable--no, he actually liked the jacket quite a bit. When he had asked his stylist what kind of jacket it was, they had told him it was a peacoat. He had thought it might be nice to get himself one when he went home, before realizing that the likelihood of that was in fact, very, very low. Lower than it had begun, most likely. He knew he had done horribly in the parade, and he hadn't done very well in the Gamemakers either. /He/ still believed that he should have gotten a better score on it, as he had told his district mates or any other tribute who would listen every other hour since the results had been released. So, with all of that considered, this was his final chance to prove himself. He didn't /want/ to play pretend for the Capitol, but he knew he needed to, if only in spite of them. Did that even make sense? Was he only playing right into their game? What /was/ the best way to defy the Capitol and their games? Well, Conley likely wouldn't have had an answer for those questions even if he had been thinking about them. But no, he was too busy thinking about what he was going to say. He could be charming when he wanted to be. He thought so at least. But he was worried that his nerves would get the better of him, or that his anger would shine through once again. What would make people like him and want to give him stuff? Conley let out a groan, receiving more than one look from the tributes around him. He mumbled an apology, even though he felt that he should have to give one. Surely they were all as stressed as he was. Though, perhaps a mix of frustration and agitation was a better description of his current emotions. Eventually, he ran out of time to think about it. He had decided that he would try his best to project confidence during his interview. Yeah, it wasn't much, but he hadn't gotten the greatest ideas from anyone else. He didn't know why his stylist had even tried with his current outfit. He was probably a lost cause. Well, those kinds of thoughts sure weren't helping his confidence plan. Conley strolled out onto the stage, trying to imagine that the cheers that followed came from classmates and friends of his back in District 4. Sure, he wasn't very happy with them either, but it was better than the strangers from the Capitol that he disliked even more. Thinking of this, he managed a smile and nod before making his way over to the interviewer. She held out a paw, which he reluctantly took, giving it a harder shake than was likely necessary. "Well, you don't have a wispy grip, do you now," she said with a chuckle. Then, before Conley could reply, she called out to the crowd, "Conley Wellspring of District 4." After a brief applause, the interviewer--Conley honestly couldn't remember what her name was, something odd probably--smiled and began with her first question. "Hello Conley. Have you settled into life in the Capitol better after the parade?" "Well, I suppose I have," he said, thinking that 'life in the Capitol' wasn't how he would have described his time here. "My first days here were rough, but, ah, I would say it's better now. I've started to think, maybe they should have training centres open for public use. I'd like to believe I was a strong cat before training here, but where would I have learned how to throw an axe at a target or wield a trident." Then, before he could stop himself, he added, "Training wouldn't be all that bad if I knew I wasn't only doing it to keep myself alive in that death pit of an arena." Conley immediately realized that his words may not have been the best thing to say. But he also found that he didn't regret them. And, maybe it would be better if he kept his words fairly honest. He was a terrible liar. The interviewer nodded and replied, "Sounds like we should consider something like it. Now, I must say, I'm eager to learn more about you. Could you give us some insight into your life back home?" /Home?/ His mouth suddenly felt dry, and he found it hard to swallow. The faint sound of a siren filled his ears, and he couldn't tell if he was only recalling the storm warning sirens back home, or if the sound was actually in the room. He closed his eyes for a moment, imagining the sea, before looking back up at the interviewer. "I was training under my father to become a fisherman, like him and my brother, and all of the cats before us who have had the same job. I enjoyed it. The sea is a beautiful sight. You should visit sometime," he said, shooting a smile towards the audience. (cont. below)
(cont.) "But there's also my Aunt Lotus. She's... Very close to my family, and me. She's sort of like a second mother to me. Anyways, she always had a fondness for waterfowl, and raised all of these ducks and geese. I /hated/ them. You ever have a goose chase after you?" he shook his head, letting out a genuine laugh. These memories, the ones from longer ago, were easier to think about. "Terrifying. Even if you think you could win in a fight against a goose, don't try it," he said, pointing to the audience. The interviewer laughed. "I'll take your advice into consideration. Now, Conley, I only have time for one more question, so I'll make it a good one. Something I'm sure our lovely audience has been wondering about. What is your strategy for the arena?" Conley forced himself to think about his answer before responding. The mere mention of the arena made him feel bitter and sick to his stomach, but he knew he needed a good answer to this. He was doing well so far. If only that stupid siren in his head would stop going off. He swore it was only getting louder. "My strategy has always been to learn as much as I can in the training centre before I go into the arena. That way, I'll be able to take anything that anyone throws at me. Literally. But once I'm there, I'd like to find some allies. Can't be the best at everything. My specific strategy would be to brute force most fights, so I'd like to find some cats who can help balance me out. That's the best way to survive." He didn't turn back to the audience this time, but he was speaking to them when he said, "And I don't intend to go out without a solid fight." (got a bit lazy with the thumbnail. might add a better one in the future)
