After about a day of train riding, they entered the Capitol through a tunnel. At first the two tributes couldn't even look at the city, it was so bright and glaring. Then the sun was blocked out by a cloud for a moment and they could see the tall glass spires and many windows. They stared in awe for a moment, before Cougal giggled. Sierra turned to him and asked, "What?"

"I was just thinking how easily that could break. I mean, it's just glass. Looks like I could knock it over with a finger." The image blossomed in Sierra's head and she started laughing, which made Cougal laugh even harder than he already was. The two hadn't spent much time around each other, in the train or otherwise, but they had discovered that they shared the same sense of humor.

After a short pep talk from the sponsors on how to present themselves in the capitol and how to deal with the stylists, the posse from District Eleven exited their train and headed down the red carpet to the main preparation building for the parade. From there the two groups were separated, Mentors going to stroll for sponsors, Tributes headed for the prepping rooms. They split and headed in the direction of the rooms assigned to them.

Sierra was surprised by the air of sterility. Everything was immaculately white, expect for the metal tools. She didn't even want to know what those were for. Then a hand with five inch bright purple nails grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the room. She was suddenly surrounded by the three oddest people she had ever seen.

Two of them were women, but that was all they had in common. One had hair that stuck out two feet behind her and had a strobe light inside the cone that flashed pink and orange in turns. Her name turned out to be Genzel. Trua, the other woman, didn't have hair, but her whole head was covered in bright blue tattoos of… were those animals? Sierra wanted to stand on the bed to get a better look. The last one, the man, would have looked normal if he didn't like dipping himself in red. He and Metallic Man would probably get along well.

The man was the one who'd grabbed her. He took her hand more loosely and spun her in a slow circle like they were dancing. The women oohed and aahed, but at what, Sierra had no idea. Then she was ordered to strip. No Way! Was the first thought that ran through her head, but then she remembered what Elma had told her during their pep talk this morning. "Forget any notions you have about yourself. Let them do whatever they want to you." She unbuttoned her pants.

The next three hours were torture. They waxed everything from her forehead down, although they thankfully left her hair alone. It wasn't as long as some of her sisters, but it was still thick and a solid brown color. They didn't touch most of the tools in the room, especially not the flashy steel ones. Thank heavens. The worst part was that, after their initial cooing, the three people didn't make any positive noise. They tsked and shook their heads as they ran eyes over her naked frame repeatedly. It made her want to shout, "What's so wrong with me?" but she managed to hold her tongue. Finally, after they were satisfied she was sufficiently smooth, they gave her a white bathrobe and sent her through the doors with directions to her real stylist's room.

The room she went into to meet her stylist was not at all like the last one. The walls were covered in a dark pink, and cushions lined the four walls of the small room. Not five seconds after her entry, the door opened and a man came into the room. He was dressed from head to toe in white, but it wasn't one of the surgical garments the others had been wearing. This was a formal suit. But to her surprise, the suit was where the strangeness ended. Very dark blue eyes, black hair with bangs over his forehead, and a round face that made him look a little like a child. He was well built, although not overly muscular. Sierra got up as he closed the door behind him.

He turned and gave her a once over with his almost black eyes. To her surprise, he didn't say anything, just stared at her. Then he said, "Spin." She spun.

If the stylist seems familiar to you, you're right. I built him off of a favorite anime character. cookie to the one who gets him right!

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