[ It is difficult to hold back a chuckle, a laugh beginning to bubbling up in his chest, because he's said the same words to himself, years ago now. Haven't they all? When is it going to stop? That is the question now that exchanges the anger for weariness.

He folds his arms over his chest, the words of President Snow's false hope and cheer washing through him, his heart hardened against the lies he spins. ]

Well, now. I can't go disagreeing with a lady now, can I?

[ Though in any other circumstance, he may wink and laugh and grin that damnably warm grin, but his voice is hollow, his eyes focused somewhere in the crowd, no where distinct. ]

It's all just a game, you'll see. Games always change, and we just haven't won yet.