He wished to say he was impressed by the selection of tributes for the deranged games they were about to play, but quite frankly, he couldn’t. Most of them looked thin; a few of them seemed to be completely oblivious to the violence that will surely tear them to pieces later on.
Still, he was far more interested in the way they dressed.
Ignoring year’s worth of etiquette classes that shaped him into the blunt, yet somewhat polished person he’s become, Icarus simply stared at some of the tributes without so much as glance the other way.
“So what’s your district like? Is it shit?” He asked with an upturned twitch of his lips,