Autumn's POV

"Well, you're okay." My stylist, Metis, says. I cross my legs, uncomfortable with her scrutiny. But I have no reason to worry. By looking at her, I can figure that she is in her early forties. She wears a thin gold band on her left ring finger, so she's married. And, despite her capital breeding, her skin is colored like that of human being, and her facial features are realitively natural. She is not going to attack me, or even try to dress me as a wind turbine, like that poor girl last year. So I uncross my legs. The Games are not a fashion show, but making an impression on the Capitol is important. It helps you get sponsors, which I'll need to survive. "Thanks?" I say.

"Oh, hun, it was a compliment. Once we fix you up a bit more, you'll be the star of tonight's parade." She smiles at me. "No wind turbines, I promise. Gaius was so uncreative."

"So what will I be wearing?" I ask.

Metis smiles again, and pulls something out from behind her back with a flourish. "This!" It's a thin jumpsuit made of shiny black material.

"What is it?" I ask

"A solar panel!"

Personally, I don't think that a solar panel is any more creative than a wind turbine. But at least the costume is sleek, so I won't have to lug a bulk of extra weight around.

"Well at least it's...light." I say weakly.

"Of course it is! I mean, not everyone can make a solar panel gorgeous. But I can and I did!"

"Thanks."

Metis nods with enthusiasm, completely unaware that I'm lying through my teeth to compliment the outfit. "Now go on! Get dressed, and then we'll do you're hair!"

I duck behind the couch I'm sitting on, then realize that I'm without underwear.

"Um, do you have a pair of underpants?" I ask, my cheeks burning red.

"Oh! Yes, of course!" Metis hands me a pair, a bit skimpier than I would have under normal circumstances. But I put them on, and then pull on the jumpsuit, struggling with the zipper in the back.

When I'm done, I walk back to sit down on the couch. Metis gives me a once-over. "Perfect!" She chirps. "Now for your hair!" She leads me over to a mirror and has me sit down in front of it. She stands behind me, with scissors in hand. I look at them in the mirror, judging whether they're sharp and whether I've broken any rules since I was reaped. But with blue plastic handles and smooth edges, they probably couldn't do much damage. I roll my shoulders back, releasing the tension. Metis bounces excitedly on the balls of her feet. "Time to give you a little trim!" She brings the scissors to my hair and begins to cut in a thin, even line. When she's done, bits of hair lie scattered on the floor and all of my hair is an equal length.

"It's nice." I say, this time truthfully. Metis nods. "I know. How do you feel about braids?"

"They're fine" I say, and Metis begins her work. Her fingers are deft, and when she's done, my hair is braided and artfully styled up into a bun.

"Wow."

"I know!" Metis says. "Are you ready for the parade?"

I'm not. But though my muscles are still tense and my guard still up, I certainly look the part.

Clove's POV

"You're definitely striking, I'll give you that." Tiberius says, looking me over again. "You're not the kind of girl one can lose in a crowd."

I smirk at my stylist. "Silent but deadly."

"Quite. And your figure is perfect for the costume I've designed."

"What is it?" I ask. I hope it's better than Cato's. I also hope it's sexy enough to win me sponsors...and perhaps the attention of the redheaded girl from District 5. She's the monster's newest weapon against me, it seems, and I would regard proving it wrong a personal victory.

"Is it...mature?"

"Medium." Says Tiberius. He walks over to the closet and pulls out a few items, then turns to show them to me. He holds a pair of dark brown leather pants, which are tight, but not really that sexy. There's also a tunic made of soft gold fabric. But the crowning jewel of my costume is the armor. It isn't that big, and it doesn't cover all of me. It's really just a few thin golden plates welded together for a chestplate, but it pulls the costume together.

"Mature enough." I say.