No one expected Haymitch to actually make it to the games in Peeta's stead so a new stylist had not been ordered for him and his previous stylist was dead, so Portia agreed to stay on alongside Cinna. He had to admit this team, while making a true statement at the last games, kept to a style that did not cause one bit of embarrassment or indignation in their tributes. Katniss kept up a constant stream of comments on Cinna's work which Peeta wholly supported, but nonetheless, Haymitch was a little hesitant as to what angle the stylists would play now that the star-crossed lovers was no longer an item in the games.
His prep team, previously Peeta's as well, insisted on waxing his chest and shaving his face as well as trimming his hair which was then tied back the better to see his hardened features. He had to bite his tongue to keep from protesting at this since he preferred to use his curtains of blonde to partially conceal scowls he reserved for select individuals. Besides a bottle of liquor, his scowl was his trademark. His face had been vigorously scrubbed to cleanse it of all alcohol traces until the rawness threatened to set his skin on fire. Never had his fingernails been so clean, his teeth so white (the prep team tried to persuade him to alter them so that they met the aligned, even standards of the Capitol but he put his foot down at this), his posture so straight. Slumping over a table passed out drunk through the years had caused a permanent forward slouch in his posture which his team temporarily fixed by strapping a metal plate to his back, forcing him to keep his body in line.
Portia then concealed the plate with a metallic grey tunic that exposed his gleaming chest and stopped at his elbows. The rest of his costume was much the same, save for his shin-high boots that were coated in shimmering black polish. When she had finished with him, Portia led him to the mirror where he had to work very hard to not let his signature frown appear at the sight of him looking like a dress up doll in comparison to his old self. At least he wasn't naked.
He met Katniss in the tunnel where the other tributes were mingling, exchanging banter happily as old friends reunited. They might have been preparing to celebrate a birthday instead of lining up for slaughter. Katniss was the outlier here where her only current friend was him, Haymitch.
As he suspected, Chaff, Woof, and Cobalt had gathered near the District 11 chariot and were laughing in booming voices that carried all the way up to the District 1 chariot where the Careers had already formed up. Knowing it would be one of the last instances for the four of them to reminisce on happier times, Haymitch joined them, unable to help noticing that he was actually the best dressed and that his costume caught the eye more than theirs did combined.
Much like Rue and Thresh the previous year and the tributes the year before that all the way back to the 54th Hunger Games, Chaff's stylist had dressed him in denim blue with some silver token in the shape of a wheat stalk tucked over his left ear. Woof wore a sleek red one piece that showed off his midsection bulk in a rather unflattering way. Cobalt had an electric blue bolt to match his name spiking out across his chest, woven into the fabric of his midnight blue tunic. Obviously in an attempt to outdo Cinna's costume from last year when he set Katniss and Peeta on fire, Cobalt's stylist had tried to incorporate the district element into his costume but the whole thing clashed horribly with that ginger hair of his.
"That hair makes quite a statement," said Woof, eyeing Haymitch's costume with amusement.
"Going for a new angle with the lovers of District 12, then?" asked Cobalt mockingly. Unlike the other tributes, he has a slight accent that sounded much more sincere and genuine, natural next to the overly exaggerated flourish of the Capitol residents. Where or how he picked it up remained a mystery, but it was one of the few unnerving things about him including his hair and his smirk.
"Bit old for the Girl on Fire, aren't you?" said Chaff, punching Haymitch playfully in the shoulder.
But Haymitch felt oddly disconnected from them as he stood there, taking their good-natured insults. Might this have felt different if he had let Peeta enter into the games? His protectiveness for Katniss was starting to rise after Cobalt's statement and under different circumstances he might have had some sort of witty comeback but now he felt a burning desire to crush Cobalt's foot under his heel and maybe elbow Chaff in the stomach. Grow up, he wanted to shout at them. This was serious now; their friendship would last less than a week and jabs at sexual innuendo would come back to haunt them in the arena if they kept it up.
His expression must have shown, for Woof placed a precautionary hand on his shoulder and shook him out of his daze. "Hey, are you still with us, Abernathy?"
"Yeah, for now," said Haymitch, not liking the way in which Cobalt was seemingly sizing him up as if to determine how much of a threat he would be once the gong rang out and the bloodbath began. True, Haymitch had a bit more weight in his middle from his years of binging alcohol than he would like, especially now that speed and strength were key to survival, but he had Cobalt beat by almost two inches and where Cobalt was quick, Haymitch was strong.
Stop that, he told himself. But why? He would have to kill them sooner or later and the sooner he figured out their new weaknesses the better. The frostiness in the air between them, however, suggested that Haymitch may have found his first opponent.
"Tributes mount up," said the voice of Claudius Templesmith, echoing throughout the tunnel.
"See you all in training tomorrow," said Haymitch, stepping back and then turning on his heel.
"Get some liquor in your system by then," called Chaff in suggestion.
At the District 12 chariot Cinna was helping Katniss to step up in place and instructing her on something that involved a button. She leaned over so that Peeta could kiss her cheek as Haymitch positioned himself beside her, staring pointedly at the button in her right hand as Cinna walked away.
"What's that do?" he asked suspiciously.
"It'll make a statement to Snow," said Katniss without further explanation. When Haymitch continued to watch her she rolled her eyes and added, "It's fake, but if you think you can't handle it you're more than welcome to hold on to me for support."
"Attitude, sweetheart. I'm not anymore pleased to be here than you, but I expected a bit more appreciation after I took a bullet for that boy."
"Sorry," she said without sounding like it.
"Look, just keep a lid on it until the ride's over otherwise I might be tempted to push you off the chariot and say it was an accident," he warned as the line began to move.
In no time they had cleared the tunnel and the blinding sunlight nearly made Haymitch stagger backwards enough to topple from the chariot platform. Katniss used her free hand to catch his wrist and hold him steady long enough for him to regain his balance and find a handhold which was lucky because a moment later her magic button from the god of style ignited his shirt and pants in fiery sparks similar to volcanic extract. He gripped the side of the chariot, watching his shoulders smolder as the crowd went ballistic and chanted. The cameras had settled on them but were now honing in on Katniss which was just fine with him.
After circling the courtyard in front of President Snow's mansion they returned the tunnels and Haymitch hurried off to the elevator, leaving Katniss behind with Peeta to engage in conversation with some of the other tributes. Unfortunately the elevator was already packed with six other tributes and he had to squeeze in between Enobaria and Beetee, the latter of whom gave him a casual nod in greeting. At the back of the lift Brutus was leaning against the glass, turning his eyes on each tribute in turn, no doubt mentally picking his allies. Beside Enobaria, though, the only other tribute who Haymitch could see Brutus teaming up with was possibly Sickle who had his head down, arms folded, not watching or speaking.
The elevator stopped shortly at the second floor and Enobaria stepped off, rounding the corner without word to any of them. Brutus puffed out his chest and confronted Denno who swallowed and flattened himself against the glass and Sickle in his haste to move aside. Once the grilles had shut and they were moving upward again Sickle shoved Denno off of him.
"If you can't stand up to him now, you're going to be the first one he goes after when he steps off his pedestal," he told Denno.
"Oh, let off him," said Tilly reprovingly.
Ignoring her, Sickle jabbed his finger into Denno's chest. "You want allies and sponsors, buddy? Then stop acting like a weakling and show the people something worth investing their time into."
Beetee stepped between the two and gently pushed them apart, taking the defense on Denno's behalf. "That's enough, now. We're all friends here, aren't we? Right here, the five of us have gone through many years of mentoring, trying to keep tributes alive to preserve childhood, haven't we? That arena does not change any of that. Though I cannot speak for everyone, I am still the image of the boy I was when I first went into the games and I plan to retain that image despite what happens on opening morning. I will not begrudge any of you here, nor the Career tributes for the deeds we must do once inside. The situation is the same as the first time: we do not want to kill, but we will so that we—or someone we value even above ourselves—live."
Sickle's pale blue eyes did not look convinced, but he had always gotten on well with Beetee and did not seek out an argument now.
Beetee got off on the third floor, leaving the rest of them in pained silence until they came to another stop on the ninth where Sickle and Tilly departed. Haymitch chose his words carefully when speaking to Denno, but wanted to encourage him all the same.
"He wasn't angry at you, you know. Any anger from the tributes is only directed one way and it's not at each other. He just doesn't want you to give up before the games even begin."
"I did last time," said Denno. "Dumb luck saw me through to the end. I was the accidental victor. It's not by choice that I don't kill, Haymitch; I just can't. I don't harvest that kind of hate towards anyone or anything enough to want to kill."
"What if you saw someone you cared about slaughtered?" Haymitch posed. "You can't tell me you'd stand by and do nothing."
"I can't answer that on behalf of not having any of those individuals to speak about," said Denno and for the first time, with a coolness to his voice.
"Not even Lash?"
A set of pale pink patches appeared on Denno's cheeks. Gotcha.
"She wasn't known to me last time. She was only three when I was reaped and I didn't mentor her until eleven years after—"
"And that's supposed to make a difference?"
"But she won't make it either, not with the Career pack that we have this year, excluding Mags."
Haymitch lowered his voice and stepped closer to Denno so that their shoulders brushed. The cameras were watching so he patted Denno's back as if comforting him while whispering, "Well, if you've given up on her and given up on yourself, what would you say to helping me get one out who can seek revenge for you?"
