Effie Trinket
The Capitol's Gilded Oracle of Pain
Protocol first, always. Even when the blood starts to show.
I arrive each year in the same shimmering gown, voice steady, smile unbroken. I have drawn names. I have waved tributes into the arena with applause. It's not about the children—it's about the spectacle. But lately, I've noticed things I used to ignore. Still, there's protocol. Always protocol. Even when the glitter begins to taste like ash.
What I'm Into: powdered wigs, Capitol banquets, ceremonial speeches, District 12 coal dust, finding the perfect shade of blush
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