HELLO. My apologies, I have taken forever to write this chapter. That is because I had exams, auditions, shows, rehearsals and hike's to get on with and by the time they were over, I literally had no time to write. I am sorry.
BUT IT IS HERE NOW... So, without further ado I shall thank: iris129, Peeta's and Finnick's mistress, Saber-tooth Fashionista, maggieblu and Rose Kurso for alerting and favouriting. I shall apologise for not replying to reviews again, because my email is broken. And I shall continue to tell you my list of things at the bottom of the page.
Enjoy :)
It turns out that although we share a mentor, each of us four from twelve still gets our own stylist.
I stand, stark naked, in the middle of a room in the remake centre, after going through rigorous prodding, smearing, plucking, eliminating, perfecting, brushing and fussing in the hands of three people from the capitol that I can't help but adore.
They were all just so stupid. Like three overgrown and bizarrely decorated babies. Helpless, clueless and adorable.
They had chatted to and around me during the process and had told me that their names were Vondis - the tall, muscled man with rolling waves tattooed all the way up his arms and rippling blue hair to match.
Leahopra - the sassy, plump woman with dark skin, orange lipstick and shocking pink hair styled into one curving spike that arched over the back of her head.
And Silciena - the petite, tiny young woman. Probably in her early twenties, with lavender tinted skin, bright green nails and thigh length, flowing jet black hair, decorated with tiny, delicate lilies.
Those three are gone now, and I nervously await my stylist, who I have been told is named Klaive, and hope with all my being that he/she is not a complete idiot.
The door to the small room clicks open and I quickly spin around to see my lifeline before the arena.
He is not plain, yet not 'Capitol' fancy. Not Cinna yet not Caesar.
He is tall, about six inches taller than me, and he is thin.
He looks to be in his early thirties.
His face is long and almost rectangular, with cheekbones that look like they could cut diamond.
His hair is untidy and a shocking Ginger, coiffed at the front forming an attractive messy flop over his brow, framing his handsome, freckled face.
The marks that make him stand out as someone from the Capitol are on his collarbones and neck and shoulders and arms and, I'd wager, chest. Tattooed on his skin are various different plants, weathers, animals, patterns and words in many languages. The artwork snakes up and around, spreading out in all different directions and the overall effect is beautiful.
"Hi" I begin to say, but Klaive silences me with a sharp raise of his right arm. His hand poised with his index finger raised.
He circles me several times, making whatever judgements it must be important to make, and I can't help but feel a little exposed.
After what seems like an age, I begin to shiver and that seems to snap him back into reality.
"Oh, my apologies." he exclaims, looking embarrassed "Please, grab a robe and we'll have a chat."
We talk for about an hour and a half, until we finally get to talking about what he and gale's stylist have in store for us at tonight's chariot procession.
"I need to surprise them." I say, "Show them a side to me that they've never seen before."
Klaive grins, a grin not too dissimilar to the lop sided one I regularly dish out. "Oh, you'll certainly be surprising them." he says with an edge to his voice that, by looking at him, I wouldn't have thought him capable of.
I catch Gale's eye and he raises his eyebrows, the first non-hostile motion he has made towards me since the reaping. But I glare at him and turn my back, showing him that his comments yesterday were still raw in my mind.
His stylist is a middle aged woman named Yvelle who has the most muscled body I have ever seen on a woman. She seems to be nice enough though and she must be doing something right because Gale is actually taking to her civilly.
There is about half an hour until we are expected to make our way down to the ground floor of the centre to meet with the other tributes before the ride and Klaive and Yvelle want to use this time to teach us a bit about our costumes, which are... Interesting.
Apparently, Klaive and Yvelle worked closely with Cinna and Portia to dream up our outfits, they are designed to show a strong unison between Peeta, Gale, Katniss and I. At the same time as portraying us as two separate teams.
This is achieved by all four of us wearing the same, black jumpsuit. With Katniss and Peeta sporting the half crowns they were presented with at their victory showing, in a total black.
All four of us are taken into a room with the four stylists and Cinna sets us in front of a mirror that lines the wall. The lights are dimmed to imitate the conditions during the procession and Cinna and Portia press buttons inside the sleeves of Katniss and Peeta's costumes. They flicker, like fire, but much more gentle and captivating. They both look spectacular.
I look at Klaive and wonder what on earth our suits must do.
During our chat he told me that due to the fact that the gamemakers want to single me out to be separate from any alliance that may form, gale and I are not to be dressed as anything pertaining to district twelve's nature, such as coal, fire or mining. Instead our stylists must make up something completely different.
I look at myself in the mirror for the first time since Klaive applied my makeup. I don't see myself however. I see someone with a scary sincerity about her. My face is no longer recognisable as the beaten up prisoner from the training centre. It is the sharp angled and dramatically coloured face of a warrior from district twelve, with a burning passion for revenge against the Capitol.
No-one will recognise me. And that is just what I wanted.
Klaive and Yvelle move to gale and I and press identical buttons in each of our sleeves, just like Cinna had with Katniss and Portia with Peeta.
But instead of the image of embers my entire jumpsuit begins to writhe and slide around my body. I look to the mirror and see that the jumpsuit has changed from its previous uniform black, to a sea of merging colours.
Every now and then, the colours form a sequence, a memorable quote or the face of a victor from past hunger games.
I see Finnick's face float up my stomach. Then a quote "Katniss Everdeen, the girl on fire"flashes up my left leg. Enobaria is busy on my right shoulder, ripping a tribute's throat out with her teeth. Mags journeys around my waist, cooking a dead snake on a white hot rock. And Haymitch appears on my chest, convulsing on the ground.
These images are only a snippet of what my jumpsuit shows between blurs of colour mixing and settling in different places.
I look at Gale and see that his outfit is doing the same thing. And then I notice that amongst the games, pictures from the districts are also flashing across our bodies. There are miners from twelve, journeying up his neck. Electricians from 3 working around his right elbow. Images from newspapers and quotes from songs appear and dissolve into the material.
"This is..." I begin to say; tentatively
"Perfect." finishes Peeta.
I look to him, 'perfect' wasn't even close to the word I was looking for.
"Well," he says "it's sending a message to the capitol isn't it?" he steps over to me and gale, who i am surprised to see listening intently.
"They want to single you out to prevent district twelve from rooting for you. So instead of that, you've got all of them going for you. But we're doing more than just gaining fans. By showing their victors that they are proud of, showing their residents who are constantly enslaved. We're bringing a union into the hunger games. We'reuniting the districts."
He is right. Of course he is right. He is Peeta.
The stylists disappear while the four of us take the journey down to the hanger, where all of the other tributes will be waiting.
No-one talks as we stand in the elevator and the only sounds are the humming of the electrics as we plummet downwards and the swishing sound of our jumpsuits brushing as we nervously shift around.
Peeta leaves to use the bathroom and Gale mooches off claiming that he needs to be alone.
I leave Katniss, who looks more comfortable petting one of her horses than she would if I was to drag her along with me, and make my way around the hall where groups of victors, tributes and mentors alike stand chatting in groups.
I find the group where Haymitch's friend Chaff stands talking to Cecilia from 8 and Johanna Mason from 7.
Luckily for me I get along with Chaff, because for people who are unfamiliar with him, his sense of humour can be a little difficult to appreciate.
"Ah, Abernathy Jr!" he exclaims embracing me. He likes to call me that. Because he thinks I am secretly related to Haymitch because we're 'too alike' apparently.
"Leave some leg for the rest of us!" he chuckles to himself looking me over, "your stylist didn't have to worry about using the paint on look on you did they?"
I roll my eyes, Chaff seems to be incapable of giving compliments that aren't in some way overstepping boundaries. But you just have to accept it.
"Hmm," I reply, "you just wait." I say, thinking about the, possibly controversial, effect my suit will have once turned on. Then I turn to the other people in the conversation and say hi to Cecilia, whom I know from seeing her as a mentor each year, and introduce myself to Johanna who I find is actually quite talkative, quite unlike how I had imagined her.
I manage to excuse myself from the conversation I had started and turn to go back to the chariots when I see that someone else has decided that Katniss maybe wouldn't be best left alone.
"Alright Odair, don't scare her before we've even gone in now." I call as I stride over to the stupidly good looking legend from district four, who is about five millimetres away from kissing her.
Both heads snap towards me and Finnick grins "Just swapping knitting patterns." he says matter-of-factly gesturing between him and Katniss.
"That's best left for the stylists don't you think?" I retort, raising an eyebrow and moving to stand next to Katniss.
Finnick looks to the space behind us, "Oh, Peeta is coming," He turns to Katniss, "I'm sorry you have to cancel your wedding. I know how devastating that must be for you." He says, in such a voice that I cannot tell whether he is being serious or mocking, "I'll see you around." He blankly shoots at me and saunters back to his own chariot.
Katniss gives me a searching look but I don't offer any answer and let her and Peeta chat. I realise that, apart from my three 'teammates' Finnick will be the hardest victor... tribute, to kill. Because sadly, we are friends. And I am glad of his blank attitude when talking to me.
I lean my head against one of the coal-black horses' warm neck and scratch it's back subconsciously until Gale finally shows up and the four of us all stand, staring at each other, not really knowing what to do.
"Cinna and Portia were here last year." Katniss says, looking around the hanger, "But it doesn't look like they're showing tonight." The music begins and we all decide that going ahead without the stylists would be a good idea.
The general reaction to the four of us switching on our costumes consists of alot of pointing and hushed chatter, as the other tributes take in district twelve's next move.
Katniss and Peeta at last year's chariot ride slowly move up my right arm and I watch them, captivated as they burn brightly, literally outshining the rest of their competitors. This year, I think, we're almost providing their spotlight.
We start to move towards the door, right behind Katniss and Peeta, at the back. The pitch black heads of our horses bobbing up and down in unison.
"Are we going for the 'united approach'?" Gale asks me, quietly, gesturing at the chariot in front, where Katniss and Peeta have just joined hands.
I glare up at him, "Do you feel like we're 'united'?" I snap, putting an edge on every one of my words.
He grumbles, "Calm it Lucifer." And I glare at him again. 'Lucifer' was a nickname that Gale had used for about a month when we were back in district twelve.
The seam was generally full of pleasant people, despite the appalling conditions of their lives, but there was one really horrid old man, that owned a butcher's shop 'back in the day', but in his old age lived off of his son and his son's wife. The old man owned a sheep, called Lucifer, and this sheep had the most matted, shaggy fur and was always covered in mud. Once I fell in a mud puddle, and according to Gale, breathless from laughing, I looked like Lucifer. The stupid nickname stuck.
I look at his wrist and watch Haymitch crouching over Maysilee as she dies. She wasn't even his friend beforehand. Just an arena-made ally. It might be important to have Gale on my team, have someone to watch out for and to watch out for me... Now doesn't that sound awfully familiar?
Glancing down at his outstretched arm again as we near the door, I see a particularly violent moment from the third arena I participated in- an arena built like an abandoned city, with apartment buildings and rundown shops and train lines. I remember watching from the top of a telegraph pole as one of an allied pairing from district three turned on her partner and sliced his face in two with a bit of broken glass before finishing him by throwing him onto a fallen, sparking power line.
I'll think about it.
"Hmm." I say as I quickly ball up my slowly opening fist and replace it back at my side as we roll out of the doors into the track.
We perform brilliantly, keeping ourselves well above it all. People scream our names and we ignore them, people scream insults and we ignore them, people scream in awe and we ignore them, people scream in disgust and we ignore them.
We pause in front of President Snow and I look at the screens which display us zoomed in. Right at that moment my entire jumpsuit turns a deep, blood red and Gale's a bright white. Slowly the colours change and as I watch the screens I see that it looks as though our suits are blending. The bleeding colour streaks seem to have their own plans however and begin to form intricate little roses all over our bodies, just like those that Snow so often sports.
The President speaks quickly and sends us on our way to the training centre and as we move; our suits quickly revert back to their previous tribute to the districts.
"That was quite something love." Says Haymitch to me as he approaches us with Chaff and Seeder, who embraces Katniss on sight leaving Peeta and Gale standing, looking pleased.
"We really had to work hard didn't we?" I reply, grinning wearily at him and watching the exchange between Seeder and Katniss when suddenly Chaff steps forward and plants a great big kiss, right on her lips. Gale and Peeta look affronted, and so does Katniss as she jumps back in shock. Haymitch and Chaff split their sides with laughter as we are hoarded towards an open elevator by some capitol guards.
Peeta and Katniss are still holding hands as they walk, and I can't help but wonder how they have managed to keep such a front up, when in a few days they'll be in the arena playing against each other.
A leafy headdress flies past my feet as we walk towards an elevator and Johanna Mason, district 7, scoots up to walk level with us all.
"Isn't my costume awful?" She groans as she tugs at the tree costume she is wearing and looks Gale over, "My stylist's the biggest idiot in the Capitol. Our tributes have been trees for forty years under her." She continues to say to Katniss, "Wish I'd got Cinna. You look fantastic."
The two girls chat for a while until we reach the elevator and Johanna begins to completely take off her costume, despite the looks of alarm coming from Katniss.
We are then shoved into the same elevator as her, and she happily chats to Peeta, as Gale, I and Katniss – red as a beetroot – try to avert our eyes from her bare body. Sometimes she stares at Gale's chest and comments on whatever act she sees floating past on his costume.
When we finally reach the seventh floor she leaves, grinning at us all and the whole elevator full seems to breathe a silent breath of relief, at floor eleven Chaff and Seeder leave and at floor twelve Peeta and Katniss step out to change out of their costumes before dinner and say "See you in a minute." Before the doors close.
There is complete silence.
The humming of the elevator mechanisms finally get to me and I blurt out, "How are they?"
"Mother's had another one." He says. "A girl, Posy." He sees my questioning look and quickly corrects me "She was pregnant when Father died." He speaks with no emotion and it is clear to me that he thinks that this is the way to go about it. Distancing himself from everyone, his own family, in order to make everything less painful.
"I bet she's lovely." I say, as we reach the top floor and step out, onto the plush carpet of the hallway.
"She is, got very ill a few years back though, measles. Mother had to work overtime to pay for treatment. I was in charge of feeding everyone then, all the money was going on her."
"And my Mother?" I ask, as we reach the room that says 'Male' on the door, above a small picture of a bed. "I couldn't find her at the reaping, but it's been so long. I don't even think I know what she looks like anymore..." I finish, looking up at him. Gale has taken on an uncomfortable look, one that I have seen before. On the face of the old Avox man who delivered that letter on the day my father was blown up.
"Gale..." I say, a warning tone to my voice.
He crosses his arms. "She's ill... Very ill... Got a few months says Katniss' mum. It's one of those time bomb sort of things." He says, hurriedly, looking everywhere except for my eyes as he speaks.
I let out a big breath and swallow hard before replying, "Well..." I start, "I suppose, it won't be much different... After all. I wasn't betting on coming out alive this time any way... And I haven't seen her in so long..." My voice begins to waver so I quickly cough and say, "I'll see you down at dinner, I need to get out of this thing." Tugging at the neck of my jumpsuit as I speak and striding along the corridor to the next room, which says 'Adescare' on the door.
So I was right, it was a fix.
As we wait at the dinner table for Effie and Haymitch to show up Gale and I chuckle at an argument Katniss and Peeta are having about Katniss being 'pure'. I fiddle with my spoon, remembering the company I had when I last had a meal in the training centre and how much I would like to find another one of those pictures and lodge another spoon, firmly in its centre.
The pair finally show up, smiling about something or other. But as they sit down, Haymitch's face quickly becomes stony.
I look in the direction of his gaze, past Katniss and to the doorway where two avox's are currently entering the room.
"Looks like they've got you a matched set this year." Says Effie, as though the two humans were nothing more than mere salt and pepper pots.
Katniss shoots an almost unnoticeable smile at the read headed girl as she is handed a drink, and Gale is staring into space, looking as though he is trying to catch hold of something with his mind. The look of concentration on his face is quite remarkable.
The male Avox, who currently has his back turned towards me as he picks up a wine bottle from a table sporting a wine bucket, also has red hair, curly, messy red hair.
I turn back to the table, still wondering why Haymitch's face had now turned from one of displeasure, to one of silent rage.
A tap on my shoulder notifies me first of the male Avox, offering me wine. As I decline, I look up to his face to give him a smile, and drop my spoon with a loud clatter as I clap my hand to my mouth.
Our male Avox is a young peacekeeper from twelve, one I know from being at reapings and victory tours.
Our male Avox is the young peacekeeper who always joked with me about Effie's latest hairstyle or the Capitol's latest trends.
Our male Avox is the young peacekeeper who I had grown to be quite fond of over my visits.
Our male Avox is the young peacekeeper who I had shared a kiss with at the back of the justice building on the last victory tour.
Our male Avox is Darius.
A/N - Right, so last chapter I mentioned my other fic 'Partners in Crime' and I just wanted to say that, supposedly, I now have a plan. And that plan is that I am going to write and upload alternative chapters so next I hope to update PiC and then I'll update this one again.
It will not last, I can tell you that now. Because I am a lazy human being.
But I thought you should know anyway.