Martin was awoken by the sound of Effie's disgustingly cheery voice calling for him to get up. They'd be arriving in the Capitol today and as he sat down at the table with Effie, Haymitch and Katniss to have some breakfast, he wondered what was going to happen to him from here. He wasn't wildly handsome or particularly talented at anything except his wood carvings. He'd be dead in 10 minutes.

But maybe it was for the best if he died quickly. That way, it wouldn't be drawn out for Peeta. He wouldn't have to sit and watch for however long the Games took to see what would happen to his brother.

As he picked at his roll that seemed to taste more like sawdust to him than bread, Effie informed him that he and Katniss would be meeting their stylists today and he wanted to groan. He hated wearing anything formal and his floppy ginger hair never wanted to cooperate. His stylist was going to take one look at him and run away screaming.

Rising to his feet for something to do, Martin walked over to the window, watching the scenery flash by him. He wanted to take as much in as he could before the end.

Suddenly, everything went dark and he took a surprised step back from the window. Effie and Haymitch didn't seem at all surprised and it made his wonder. Were they underground? Had something happened? Before he could ask either of them, they emerged in some kind of place that was reminiscent of the Hob back home in District 12. People were clustered tightly into the small space, obviously trying to catch a glimpse of the incoming tributes.

Several people started to point at him and he couldn't help the faint flush that stained his cheeks as he offered a shy little wave. All at once, the crowd seemed to fixate on him and he waved until his arm felt like it was going to fall off. Yes, he wasn't confident about his chances in the arena, but that didn't mean he was going to shoot himself in the foot either. He could wave at a few people and perhaps once the games began in earnest, someone would feel kindly toward him.

Scolding him lightly (even though she really didn't seem too angry), Effie came and took him away, leading him to a strange building where a team of three people from the capitol stripped him down, and seemed to sand his skin off. He was embarrassed to be naked in from of these strangers, but he offered no protests, and they seemed to appreciate him letting them get on with things. Once they had wrapped him up in a robe and pronounced him to be completely "finished", they brought in Portia.

Martin was expecting someone who looked very altered like the prep team, but Portia only wore makeup sparingly. She used it to great effect however and it took Martin a couple of tries to untie his tongue long enough to tell her his name.

"It's good to meet you, Martin. My name is Portia, and my associate Cinna and I are responsible for dressing you and Katniss for the opening ceremony tonight."

He nodded, wondering if they were going to haul out the mining helmets and put black makeup on their faces to make it look like coal. The idea was to dress the tributes in something that would reflect the culture of their particular district, and District 12's costumes were usually pretty awful.

"Cinna and I wanted to take a new approach, so there will be no coal miner outfits this year." Portia informed him, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, as if she could guess what was going through Martin's mind.

"Oh?" Martin asked.

"We feel that it's been done to death and we'd like to make you and Katniss stand out." She rose and circled around him. Martin couldn't help feeling like a mouse being stared down by a cat and swallowed reflexively.

"You've got some lovely wave to your hair. If it was shorter, it would be easier to work with. Do you mind if I trim it?"

She thought he had nice hair? The Capitol must be a strange place indeed. But he didn't care if she cut it. He'd just be dead in a few days anyway. "I don't mind." he replied.

Nodding, Portia advanced on him with a pair of very sharp looking scissors and Martin wondered if it was too late to change his mind before the first few pieces of hair began to fall on the ground. He shut his eyes until she was finished and looked into the mirror she held in front of him so he could see what she had done.

His hair was cropped rather close to his head, placing the emphasis on the wave itself and not so much the color. He was surprised to find that he liked it, and it wasn't so drastic that it wasn't him.

"Thank you." he said honestly and Portia nodded in satisfaction as she began to bring out the pieces of his costume. As he tugged on the black unitard and the boots, he stopped as Portia came back with something that looked like a fire starter.

"What's that for?" he asked curiously.

"Your flames."

He had been right. The Capitol was a strange place.