Keres Lancaster

## Bio

*Keres Lancaster (she/her). Gamemaker. Forty-eight. Laura Linney.*

Growing up in District One was golden. The district of luxury, home of the finest commodities that could be sold to the Capitol. Often, one felt one step away from true grandeur. Keres was no different. Her father traveled often to the Capitol, telling her of its grandness. Growing up, she knew she would end up there one day.

Her childhood was far from perfect. A distant father who traveled often. A mother who could care less, more absorbed in the image, the luxury. Keres detested her mother, a woman she considered vapid, unambitious. It was her father who fostered the ember within her, to be more than some Capitolites wife. It was he who had seen what lingered behind his daughters eyes, the raw ambition. Attending the Academy, Keres strove to make him proud. She became ruthless not just in her words but in her actions too. One day, she was sure, everyone would know her name.

When the rebellion happened, Keres was 17 years old. At first, it had not bothered her. After all, things would sizzle out, they always did. Discontent was not new. Sore losers had always existed, the outer districts angry at their own ineptitudes. It was their fault at all that the games existed, they continued to fester and push against the generosity of the Capitol. What did they think would happen if they struck out on their own? Success. No, society would collapse. So often were rebellions focused on having a winner that they rarely thought about what came next. It was easy to fight. It was harder to rule.

Then, her father was killed. The only person she thought understood her, the person who encouraged her, who she admired. Killed by rebels when he had gone to try to settle things down. No tears had come from her eyes when they told her, when they brought him back to be buried. President Snow - the elder, not Nerissa - had been there. The rebellion had been squashed, sure, but at what cost?

Throwing herself into training, Keres became hell bent with a single mission. The next Hunger Games would be won by her. No rebel would be allowed to claim victory, to show their resilience, to claim that they had any ground to stand on. No, they would be shown the might of One, the power that they held. How even after killing an influential man in the rebellion, his daughter would avenge. She had told Snow this, when they stood in the overcast graveyard. The only response was a smile, a firm hand on her shoulder, and a solid nod. The only blessing she needed.

[CW: blood, death] Everyone knew that the 76th Hunger Games would be something for the record books, after the unrest that had happened. An eighteen year old Keres had known as well, but had still proudly stepped up when it came time to ask for volunteers. No one dared challenge her, knowing that she was a chosen Tribute. Top of her class in the Academy, and with a brutal streak to her predicated on revenge, she had gone into her games with a mission.

Keres fought with a traditional one-handed sword and dagger. A brutal machine, her Arena catered to her nature. Tall corn-fields, blocking the view of anyone except for designated high spots which one could look out from and watch others. The cornucopia in the middle, towers here and there. The only source of food was the corn, and the only water was from its kernels or from the cornucopia itself. Immediately, Keres and the Career pack had taken over the Cornucopia, using it as a vantage point to see out across the fields. With the short dagger, Keres had personally gutted two tributes in the bloodbath, driving the blade into them and looking them in the eyes as they fell.

A brutal machine, Keres put on a show for those she knew were watching. Every one of her kills was done with spectacular precision. When she did her interviews post-games, many were shocked how this young, pretty, blonde woman had single-handedly killed six tributes. At the end, with the corn splattered with blood and the wind rattling through its stalks, Keres stood there at the Cornucopia where she began, sword dug into the other tribute from One. The cannon had gone off just as she had pushed him off her blade with a smile. There was no remorse in her cold eyes, just satisfaction that she had one. Let them all see what a real victory looked like, unlike the pathetic excuse they had for a rebellion.

[CW: sexual themes, prostitution, age-difference relationships] After her games, Keres had been the belle of the ball. A dazzling young woman with a charm and a glimmer to her eyes, from a loyal district. Easily had she assumed the mantle of the first Victor since this new iteration of the games. Speaking in interviews, she had spoken of the honor that came with her victory, how more should aspire to serve in the way she had. The splendor of what she had become.

Many sponsors and Capitol elite wanted time to have a moment with her. When she was told what her next duty would be, her next service, Keres did not balk. Her own mother had married for wealth, before becoming a husk of a woman due to the vapid nature brought on by the drugs and her lifestyle. Keres saw nothing wrong with using her body as a weapon of its own. Snow would give her the names, and she would show up and dazzle, as she was expected. Of course, this was not just for the honor of her service to Panem, no. Every little bit along the way, she was able to advance her own personal interests and goals. Between her activities between the sheets and as a Mentor, it was not hard to see how influential Keres became.

Finally, she advanced another step of her plan, marrying an influential Capitolite named John Lancaster. With connections to Snow and power in the city, Keres cemented herself as a member of the aristocracy. Unlike her witless mother, however, Keres saw herself as an equal to John, and he viewed her the same. It was not a relationship borne of love, but mutual respect and ambition. A recognition that together, they could be something truly spectacular. They would attend the Capitol events together, Keres on his arm and in his ear. This connection had ended her services for Snow, but she had been offered a new role - something that made her heart which craved control sing.

The Games are a commodity, and they are something that Keres is proud to provide. After a stint as a mentor and as Snow’s luxury to dole on preferred followers, and with her marriage to Lancaster, Keres was given a job working with the Gamemakers. Specifically, she was prized for her ability to see a vision, a product which could be marketed. Thus, Keres worked in the media side of the Hunger Games, rising through the ranks until she became Executive Producer. The camera cuts, the angles, the drama. All of it was something she directed, trying to sell the story, to show the glory and the victory of the games.

Often, Keres sees the people on the screen as the potential stories she could tell using the visuals she provides. This work makes her proud, and makes her know that her father would be proud of her. Here, she can show the might of the uniformity, and being a single nation, of falling into line. Here, she can show what happens when you decide to remove the rules, what happens when people try to be the hero and rise up. A push shot here, a zoom shot there. Shots of blood splattered on the ground from one who made a bad choice. This is what she envisioned, being able to be a part of something this big, this magnificent. To show the evils of discord.

When John passed away from age – not a surprise considering he was her well her senior – Keres threw herself into her work more. A monolith to who she was, a legacy to retain for eternity. History would remember her, and what she helped the Games become. The stories she helped tell. A machiavellian mastermind who knew how to skew the visuals, to tell the story she wanted people to see. Cutting the cameras and the film, picking the dialogue she wanted, marketing it to who she pleased. This is her zenith, her pinnacle.

  After the mess that was the 134th games (which if anyone had asked her opinion, she wouldn’t have gone through this farce and just said to kill the man on trial like properly done instead of giving him the chance of life, although it was a good spectacle, a good story), Keres finally decided to lower herself to interact with those who she looked at on the screen. Sure, she knew many of the Mentors already – after all she had been the one to tell their stories, but clearly things had begun to get out of hand.

No, if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself. So she would get her hands dirty, coming down from her tower to make sure the story was told correctly. Rebellion simmering again, she would show them what happens to those who try to break ranks. Once again, history was repeating itself, these fools thinking they have all the answers, that they know better. Not realizing that once again the shortsightedness of their crusade would be the downfall. It was time for her to get back in the trenches, to learn the stories herself instead of them being told to her. Meeting the people, looking them in the eye, selling the narrative. It had been a while since she had done so, preferring to remain aloof, to tell the narrative as it unfolded on the screen and from her sources.

  Since her ascension to her current role, Keres had only waded back into the swamp once. When another beautiful girl by the name of Cressida had volunteered, the same hungry look on her face. Due to a leave of absence at the time, Keres had stepped back for those games, choosing to mentor once again. It would not be hard for her to acquire sponsors afterall. Not the maternal type, she knew her legacy would never reside with children, and so she had the luxury of hand picking a successor. And this young girl, she would be it.

Ruthless and a weapon, Keres had been proud of her, guiding through her games and what came after. What her role would be, grooming her to follow in her own footsteps. A perfect commodity for District One, how people were so foolish to think that only referred to find jewels and other luxuries. No, beauty was a commodity, and a weapon, and much like Keres, Cressida had the mind to go with hers. How disappointing it was, then, when she fell in with a rebel. Even the good ones spoil, and Keres was determined still to find someone she could groom to be perfect, to follow in her footsteps. And if Cressida would no longer do, well, that was fine. She would just choose someone else.

Most other mentors in the Tower do not know her beyond the time she Mentored Cressida, if they were serving then. Otherwise, she went back into her Gamemakers den, continuing her job as someone who sold the narrative. Of course she would attend the galas and balls, but never as a representative of her district. No, One was well in the past for Keres, a distant memory that she had escaped. Now, she thoroughly lived in the present and future, a Capitolite, bearing even a Capitolite last name and exerting the influence that came along with it.

Even those who do not know her seem to get the message quickly that she is not one to be trifled with. Manicured nails, never a hair out of line, paint on her lips and a chill in her eyes. Keres walks into every room like she owns it, commanding attention. Her very aura is that of power and arrogance. Never does she look disheveled, always like at any moment she could appear on screen. Whenever she smiles, it's often a thin line of her lips, or a charming one that carries danger behind it. Everything about Keres reminds of the deadliness of the Arena – and of herself. For not only could she kill with her weapons, but words and wits too.

[+ *ambitious*] [+ *methodical*] [+ *intelligent*] [- *arrogant*] [- *vicious*] [- *manipulative*]

PENNED BY: BEL