"Wow! What stunning tributes!" Garrett exclaimed, taking a sip of the chalky blue liquid. A droplet splattered onto his suit. Fumbling to wipe if off, he introduced, "The next tributes!"
Allison and Stephen nervously glanced at their costumes. The ride in the chariot was bumpy enough without worrying if you were going to set something aflame. Their costumes, representing lightly their District's trade of technology, were crisscrossed with sparkling wires, all of which ended in a fizzy, shooting flame.
It was something both had seen before. The items, metal sticks with dipped ends, sometimes came on Parcel Day. They were called sparklers, and fizzed down to their metal nubs while the children wrote their names into the air and giggled. But on clothing? They made both of them nervous. When their stylist spoke of going out with a bang, they had doubted the literal meaning.
Their mistake.
This had to be the dumbest idea, possibly ever. Since District 6 provided the Capitol with transportation, they were dressed accordingly.
As freaking trains.
The top was pointed into the rounded end of a train, and on each side of their bodies black panels represented the sleek windows. Their faces were painted in tarlike, thick gray paint and they were slipped into dangerously high heeled shoes. Wobbling onto the precariously balanced chariot, Ally grabbed at Stephen's hand. He yanked it back, causing her to grope at the edge of the chariot for balance.
"What the heck?" she stare at him with shocked eyes.
He grinned. "We're leaving. Don't try to make any friends." His voice sounded like a warning.
Ally swallowed. This Games could be over for her sooner than she thought.
Whitt tugged on his costume. It was a flamboyant shirt and pants – skin tight leather, of course – emblazoned with feathers. While his were a deep crimson, Micaela's were yellow and she wore a massive ballgown of the same idea. Floating in the light, artificial breeze, they moved in silky waves when each of them moved.
The person responsible for their outfits, a tall, slender girl by the name of Caraway, scrutinized her work with brown eyes. While her eyes were untainted by any tampering, her hair was a bright turquoise-mint. In response to her work, she had twin feathers mixed in with the blue locks. One was yellow, and the other Whitt's red.
"Are you two ready?" she asked them. Micaela nodded nervously.
Whitt grinned. Something about the way Caraway talked reminded him of Sydney back home. "Sure I am." He winked at Caraway. She grinned, allowing a moment of teasing before her face turned serious.
"Then let's go."
