The smile that crossed his lips was bright and wide he knew if he wanted to make an impression – especially here then he'd have to play the part of the oh so happy boy from District 12. Their chariot approached the black marble gated which as the 24 chariots rode toward swung open to reveal the track and circuit they would follow. The president's box was obvious, banners hung down from it to mark it clearly and all around there were cheering Capitol citizens. Obviously very proud to show they had been worthy enough to be able to get tickets to see first-hand the entertainment and fresh meat that had been served to them on a silver platter.
Haymitch knew, they were this meat their entertainment to play and pick with until they were no-longer satisfied. This information sickened him to the core not that it showed in his expression, as their gates passed through the marble gates suddenly an intense heat grew around him. His vision began to blur when he realised that their chariot . . . Was ablaze with fire the ridges and delicately carved panels which he hadn't taken notice to were engulfed with blue and orange flames – nothing like he'd ever seen before in his life. Maysilee gasped as well half in fear and the other half in wonder as their costumes were lit up to full effect casting bright lights to reflect off the diamonds of her corset and the diamonds which littered his cuffs.
The relief that flooded him when he realised that this stunt had been planned he noted the way that on the screen the cameras were trained upon them and only them. His arm wrapping tighter around Maysilee's waist for both support for himself and her he raised his free hand and began to wave towards the crowds who had started cheering for District 12. The first time. . . Well ever or so he knew of. His smile grew wider as abnormally bright roses were tossed down towards them as they rode past. He'd kill Castor for not telling him about this trick but for the minute it'd have to wait. He continued to wave as they swung around passing The President's box before their chariots were drawn back around towards the twin identical gates which they were to exit from.
The horses pulled their blazing cart down over the cobbled path their hooves clattering against the cobbles with a steady beat very much unlike what Haymitch's heart rate was like right now. It was beating unsteadily although beginning to slow now that the act was nearly up, as soon as the doors slammed shut behind them he relaxed and sighed. They were away from the judging eyes of the citizens and he could return back to the quiet realm that was his mind. He shifted his gaze to Maysilee as the chariot was doused with water causing the flames to go out with a hissing and sizzling sounds. Haymitch stepped down before turning to lift the slender form of Maysilee from the chariot placing her down on the floor she looked pale to him probably still scared-witless after that fire stunt.
Castor and Messalla came out with bright and beaming grins on their faces, to which Haymitch only grumbled before walking straight up to them and jabbing his thin slender finger into Castor's chest accusingly. "Were you trying to fry us like pigs? We could've burnt to death in that!" He was angry and his voice easily conveyed that he couldn't stand the unknown which was the main thing he dreaded about the games themselves. His finger jabbed into Castor's tailored jacket again. "Did you think about that? Think about us? Or were you just trying to kill us before the Games have even begun?!" His voice rose slightly he knew his face was starting to go red with him anger and he knew he had to calm down.
Without a second word he turned and stormed off to the changing rooms quickly switching back to the more comforting clothes he had worn earlier in the day and hanging up the suit. He knew he'd gone too far with his words but he wouldn't apologise, not any time soon at least. Haymitch was just turning to walk up to the lift although he walked straight into the imposing figure of Brooke. Falling back in a heap he grumbled getting to his feet. "Get out of my way. . . I don't want to talk to you." He said his glare evident.
"Then don't talk just listen." Was all that she said to his words her eyes were much like his own – charcoal grey. "You have attitude which is good but attitude won't win you the Games. To do that you have to play an angle. Now Haymitch what's your angle? You can't just go around with attitude you'll end up dead in a week, you need to use your intelligence to outwit the rest of the tributes. Use your intelligence and you'll win." She said her eyes never leaving his once as she spoke. Haymitch merely stood there in silence he knew the training would start tomorrow to determine what mark they'd be given by the Capitol.
"In the training. . ." She grabbed his sharp chiselled chin with her pale hand turning his face to face her own as he spoke her words making sure they sank in. "You are to try everything, everything you can. Learn new skills try to master as much as possible and you'll get far. But whatever is your strongest weapon don't go for it save that for the final tests. I don't want the others knowing your strengths and weaknesses." As soon as she had appeared Brooke was gone almost like smoke. Haymitch stood mulling over her words before nodding slowly heading out towards the lift and back up to his Quarters. Walking into them he fell down on the soft bedding not caring about changing allowing himself to be consumed by the blackness of sleep which washed over his body from the strenuous day.