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[OOM: The tradition of a lifetime takes on a whole new meaning.]

Darius is very much subdued when he comes into the bar today, and he breathes a sigh of relief when he ends up here rather than in the Hob. He can't stand walking into another room where every single inhabitant hates him on sight.

He walks up to the bar, not sure immediately what it is that he wants.

Eventually, though, he asks, "Could I get some white liquor?"

He could stand to kill a few brain cells. He's drinking to forget today.

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Darius nods. "Yeah, that. That's a president."

"Rulers are named different things, in different lands," Poins says. "There's kings and emperors, sultans and khans."

He shrugs. "We've just got a president."

"It is just another name," Poins says. "I doubt that presidents are muck more tyrannical than any of the others that I named, for any ruler may go bad."

"Ah. You think Snow's the problem."

"Is it not ever the bad king, emperor, khan," Poins says, "that causes trouble for his underlings and subjects?"

"If it is, I don't know what a good president looks like."

"Much like a good king, I would think," Poins says. "He rules justly. He makes speeches that touch men in their hearts, judges fairly, declares war only if justified, pardons with generous hand, and forgive taxes if times are bad."

Darius shrugs. "Nope. Doesn't ring a bell."

"Those thing do never happen in your time?" Poins asks.

"Not that I've heard of."

A pause and then he adds, "I guess we've never really been at war?"

"Peace, but what a price?" Poins says. "A graveyard peace that only short, hot war may rouse you from."

"There isn't anyone to be at war with," Darius clarifies. "It's just Panem."

"Civil war," Poins says. "Insurrection. But 'Panem'? What kind of name is that? It means just 'bread', in the accusative."

"Rebellion. They tried that. Didn't stick," Darius says, thinking for only a moment before ordering himself another drink. That rebellion led to his current situation, after all.

"Don't know why it's called that."

"The next one will, or the one after," Poins says. "Our own good king came by the throne through a rebellion, and has been working his hands unto the bones, ever since."

Pause.

"He's overly stern and earnest, I must say, but just, and never bad."

"Capitol destroyed a district over it. Wiped it out. Now they get tributes. Don't want to know what they'd do if't happened again."

"It seems you live in a dark, dreadful world," Poins says, "devoid of any hope, that you can but wish to flee from."

~~As to say, crapsack.~~

He shrugs. "Some days are good."

Not today. Very much not today.

"But not today, hence the strong drink," Poins guesses.

"Today's the Reaping," Darius mutters.

"That's what they call it," Poins says, "when children are put to death?"

He shakes his head. That there are worlds that will confound even cynical Ned Poins!

"No," Darius says, shaking his head. "'ts when the tributes're chosen."

"Those are the children destined to die?" Poins says.

"All but one, yeah."