Chapter Ten.

Chariot Preparation.

Rayah Ausbern, 18 years old;
District Two Female.

This was the one part Rayah hadn't been looking forward to.

Not that Rayah was uncomfortable in her own skin, that couldn't be further from the truth. It was the idea that they weren't just total female strangers, but they were from the Capitol. And a part of that made the entire situation feel different.

Still, Rayah complied and walked into the little glass room, encased in four panels that showed a white tiled corridor stretching from one end of the floor to the other. Even if she didn't like where she was and couldn't wait to move on in the process, especially training tomorrow, Rayah refused to put up a fuss.

It wouldn't do good to cause unnecessary arguments with people that only had her best interests at heart. Especially people who might have influence on who put sponsor money in the pool that would centre on her and Henry.

Not that she liked Henry. Quite the opposite. He was an annoying parasite, he could roll over and die for all she cared. It was mean, but it was true. He'd only get in the way and she had no time for distractions.

Those were in the past – the parties, the boys, the everything. There'd be boys in the Capitol, and she'd be more than happy to pull a few strings or two, but her reputation as a capable fighter also meant too much to just let it crumble over a façade. This was the life she had chosen. She would kill to keep it.

"Now Rayah, procedure dictates that the tribute is meant to strip off all layers and lie on the table in the centre of the room." Her stylist, a plum coloured, perfumed lady that looked around her age, motioned to the slab of metal in the centre. However, when Rayah moved forward with a smile, happy to oblige, she raised her hand and shook her head.

"You and Henry will be following a different sort of protocol. To be quite frank, his stylist is an imbecile, and here we have no qualms with allowing both of you into the same room to work on you together. Create a perfect duo with both canvases before us. Quite poetic don't you think."

Rayah's smile dropped. Her fingers clenched into fists the moment the door opened and Henry walked in, swinging his arms with a stupid grin on his face. She'd knock his teeth out if she could.

He undermined everything she valued in life. She enjoyed a spot of fun just as much as the next person, dithering in things the elderly community turned their noses up at.

But Henry enjoyed fun in a different way. It was disgusting. And not only that, but his cocksure way of handling himself and others… no, he steadied herself from shaking and offered him a polite nod.

She'd be civil if anything. Until she could hack his head off.

"Miss Ausbern. Looking very whorish this evening."

Rayah's fingers opened and closed. A twitch ran down her cheek. She forced the smile to grow into her face – sickly sweet for a sour boy.

"Mr Eris. Delightful as always."

His own stylist was nowhere to be seen. She wanted to punch that imbecile too for lumping him with her. But the woman in the centre looked between the two and chuckled, clapping her hands together, before gesturing to the pair of them.

"Now Rayah and Henry. We have decided to go with the usual theme of gladiator mixed with the stone your District seems far too keen on. Can't see the beauty myself. So, you'll be plated in gold, but I need to pick out a shade of dusting… now…" She paused, looking over several tubs and vials on the far table.

With her back turned, Henry was staring at the elder girl, smirking as he looked her up and down. Henry had always kept to himself, rarely talking to anyone. Here he seemed to be turning that on its head just to get a rise out of her.

Did he want a place in the alliance, or did he want to fuck his chances up by annoying the only people that'd protect his ugly little back?

She turned her head away from him, refusing to stoop to his level. She wanted to see her other allies – see if anyone else was as serious as she was. Or if they were all just idiots who saw the frivolity as an excuse to dump years of training in the trash.

"Rayah could you please come here, raise your arm and stand very still." Henry made a noise when she walked pass. Right then, her blood ran cold. Her head made a clicking noise when she twisted it to glare at him. Her fist twitched. But no, she refused.

If she did that, she'd be no better than the psychopathic midget. "I think something's wrong with your throat."

With that, she walked over to her stylist and did as she was bid. Raising her arm, her stylist sprinkled some silvery glitter with a hint of gold. There was a pause, an uncomfortable pause, until Rayah realised she was meant to give her opinion.

"I think it's… very… glittery." Rayah laughed, unsure what to really saw. It's glitter, I really don't give a flying fuck… and with him behind me, sneering no doubt, I just want to get out of here. "I guess it's very pretty."

"Henry stand next to Rayah."

The small boy followed orders, surprisingly. Next to her hip, he looked at her arm, and then at her eyes. "Have we got any black glitter to cover her face? Or anti-makeup glitter? She's looks like a clown. I'd rather not see it."

"Listen here you stupid little…" Rayah stopped herself, breathing out, controlling her anger. Her stylist sprinkled some glitter over Henry's arms and glanced between the two, totally unaware of the animosity rising in the air.

If she left, hell would break loose. It was an authority figure that was keeping Rayah's fist away from Henry's mouth. Her own dignity was starting to shed in favour of smashing his face through the glass wall.

The Games… save it for the Games… "I think it's a lovely shade Henry. Gives your skin some colour. We can all see you need some. Allergic to the sun?"

"Allergic to sluts, actually."

Rayah narrowed her eyes. "I'm allergic to letting you make it a day in the Arena. Or I'm starting to. We'll see, won't we?"

"We will indeed."

Both of them jumped when her stylist clapped her hands between the two, beaming at them both. "Okay, colour chosen. Now take off your clothes."

"You've got to be kidding me." Rayah and Henry both looked at each other, having spoken at the same time.

They had to get naked… in front of each other?

She liked men. Not children. Henry was nothing but an immature impish idiot.

But he'd learn his place. They all did.

Rayah was more than glad to show him. More than happy to start the drama a little early. She was a fighter.

So she would fight.

Therese Chaney, 16 years old;
District Eleven Female.

Therese was used to the cold on her bare skin, she was used to the way she'd force a smile on her face when it felt hard to handle.

This was both of those things. Being naked on the table, not only was she shaking in the deep chill that kept the heat out, but having a young man working over her body, assessing it, that was where it became hard to handle.

But Therese refused to let it get her down, this was all part of where she'd come to. It was about adapting now. She'd adapted to suit a harsh life in Eleven, the same one many people fought through, so she'd change for the fight this city presented.

And then a final change for the Games, where it all culminated into the hardest challenge. In the strangest way, she felt almost glad to have led such a bad life, and worked out an attitude to hold it all together especially when it seemed like giving up was the better option.

It meant here and now, she had an outlook that some of the others didn't. A determination only a select few understood. A strength she had in herself that would get her through this.

Because she would get through this. She had to get through this. Losing just wasn't an option, she… she couldn't lose. The mere thought of that sent a different kind of chill down her spine.

It terrified her more than anything she'd had to face before, and would face. Never being able to smile again. Or laugh. Or even flirt. It wouldn't do. It wouldn't happen.

"You've got wonderful skin." She jumped up at the sound of his voice. It had been the first time they'd said anything to the other since he'd stepped through. He had a high-pitched, nasally tone that set her skin on edge.

Of course, Therese wouldn't comment on such a superficial quality. She barely knew the man. What he'd done she didn't like, but still, he'd done nothing to harm her. So she smiled up at him, at the weird angle she was laid down at. "Thank you sir."

"Oh no, no sir here. Call me Art."

"Alright, thank you Art." Therese adjusted her elbow a bit, feeling it go numb. Really she just wanted this entire process to be over so she could get out into the Capitol. Although it was slightly daunting being thrust into the limelight and a million people she'd never met, cameras clicking and flashing, people like Art clapping, and tributes she'd never met all around her, Therese couldn't help but feel confident she had it in her to do well.

This was the hardest part. The waiting. The nakedness. Boys usually winked back at her, but it was playful, always had been. Nothing came out of it because it was a bit of fun. So she'd never actually felt so exposed to someone of the male gender.

Her skin crawled when he touched her leg, then looked down at a tray. If she thought the first part, the looking, was the worst, she really had no idea.

When the strip of paper was ripped from her skin, for a brief, stupid moment she thought she was already in the Games and pain had come to take her away. It literally felt like her leg was on fire.

Although Therese had taken care for her appearance, the little things that felt so trivial were really pointless to consider. Apparently her legs needed to be taken care of though.

"Sorry love, this does usually hurt."

Therese gritted her teeth, nodding. "Do you have to?" Her tone through the pain that flared along her skin was strained, but she kept it steady. Weakness wouldn't do. Not that she was cocky enough to pretend, she just didn't want to let someone see it who had the potential to influence a big portion of this process for her.

"We must make you look exquisite. So yes, dear, I'm afraid we have to."

Therese closed her eyes and leaned back into the cold metal of the table. It was a strange mixture of feelings, the chill of the metal contrasting with the burning sting of whatever he was doing to her body. She wanted to cry out at several parts, especially when a small tool was used, but she kept it all in.

When it was done, Therese actually felt like crying with relief. Paying the price for beauty… it was absurd some girls even did that. Living her life, she guessed she struggled and agonised over different tribulations.

The Capitol was opening her eyes to a whole new host of things. It was weird, curious, but different in a negative way. She was prepared. But scared. And that would never change.

"All we have left to do is show you your dress."

"My dress?" Therese kept her eyes on Art's back, all the way over to the closet at the side. What he brought out nearly took the breath from Therese's lungs. Again, she'd never had the chance to even gaze upon such things unless they were on television and she was watching tributes sport such fashion.

Now that the outfit was in front of her, she felt like a little girl, fawning over something immature. But it didn't matter. She could live and be happy for these small moments, before horror struck, she'd allow herself to be a teenager that cared for the little things.

"It's beautiful." Therese honestly meant it. The stitching had been done in a way that brought colour of different shades and hues to the material. When she put it on, it was tight, and of course she felt a little degraded considering which part of her body it hugged the most, but she appreciated it all the same.

He was trying to make her stand out. She couldn't fault him for helping her.

"You look stunning. The new you."

Therese frowned at that, but then smiled. "More like the same me, but… revamped." She didn't want to lose herself just because a pretty dress had been pulled over her body.

Looking in the mirror, she was still Therese. She always would be.

This was just a new stage in her life, a scary, unfamiliar stage, but she'd fought through everything Panem had flung her way before. This was just another step to cross.

"Now for the hair."

Therese felt the warm glow in her stomach and relished it. A lot was going on in her head, but she let it, she welcomed the way her body was becoming overwhelmed.

It meant she was human.

It meant she was reacting the way a normal person would react.

And that's what mattered most. Still being just a normal person. It's the one thing she'd retain for as long as she could.

Being Therese Chaney. Nobody else would do.

Lexine Videl, 16 years old;
District Twelve Female.

Her hand trailed down the black gown she was wearing. It was lacy, silky and with bits of frill Lexine played with as she sat, patiently in the chair.

It was a strange world she'd been taken to. Everything she had seen in Twelve, every nook and cranny she wanted to get a snippet of in her life, broadening her experiences, couldn't compare to this.

Even this room was beautiful. When she looked out the glass, people with colours she weren't even aware existed roamed around, some noticing her and waving at her.

Truthfully, she was scared. Maybe she didn't show it, but Lexine knew one emotion that was the right thing to feel was a sense of fear.

Because this was not just new, but scary. And above it all, she missed her family. Her grandmother especially who had to be pulled from her when it was time to go, back in Twelve, after she had been reaped and stood in front of everyone.

I want to go home, Lexine blinked back tears and dragged her foot along the ground, randomly trying to take her mind away from anything but the way she felt.

A distraction managed to present itself in the form of her stylist, once again arriving with Callan behind her.

He looked her up and down once with the hugest grin on his face. There and then, it became almost impossible for Lexine to feel like she had no one. Because she had him. He was one of the nicest men she'd ever met – even Chase, quiet, funny Chase, was a nice person to be around.

She hoped it could last forever.

Even though she knew it wouldn't. A girl like her knew some truths of this world, and in the Hunger Games people died, it's just the way it was. She asked questions about why and what for, but it changed nothing. It was a constant in her life, like her curiosity. Like the way she didn't understand everything, but wanted to, more than anything.

"You look beautiful Lexine." He offered her a hand up to which she gratefully accepted. Callan helped her up and she stood there, her dress flowing behind her on the floor, her arms and legs dusted with ash.

It was quite ticklish really. She laughed a few times whilst being prepared, after arguing a little bit before. Why she had to be… naked of all things, Lexine had no idea.

They'd caved at least. I can be awfully stubborn if I want to be, she thought, amused at the way they had looked down at her around the table.

It had all been worth it though, according to Callan she was beautiful. She'd only heard that from her family before. It was awfully nice to hear it from him, a stranger really.

"Is Chase ready?" She asked, her stylist playing with Lexine's hair. She hovered nearby like a busy little bee, doing this and doing that. It was distracting, but Lexine was used to it now. Even if it felt like an invasion of privacy, she'd come to understand the Capitol didn't know boundaries. Lexine had always crossed a certain line, at least apparently she did, but she never went too far. Not as far as they did at least.

"I believe so. He asked how you were doing, after yesterday he felt a little guilty."

Lexine waved it away, giggling. "He's not the ally for me either, I didn't take it offensively or anything. We're two different people. I understand."

"Really?"

"Completely," Lexine said, nodding. "I wish him all the best though. He's a nice kid, don't you think?"

Callan had a weird look in his eye. Lexine studied it for a split second, like he couldn't really comprehend the way she was thinking – sort of like some of the people in Twelve, who found her amusing, but strange.

She didn't like that. She just wanted to be herself, but apparently she was always doing something wrong and she never quite understood what it was.

"Chase is the sort of boy who'll do well on his own. Or with someone a little more like him. You on the other hand, have you thought about any allies?"

It was certainly odd discussing strategy here, where she'd just got changed, especially with the crazy little lady hovering over her shoulder. But apparently they weren't ready for the tributes yet. So she was more than happy to wait, if they had to.

"I haven't really had the chance to see any of the other tributes."

"You saw them on the television though, on our way here. Surely someone made an impression." Callan spoke with the utmost interest in her opinion, which was nice for a change. Like he had called her beautiful, he also seemed hooked to whatever she had to say.

Chase had walked off yesterday. But Callan listened. That was important.

"Someone who will take me for me. And will listen as well. They won't just think I'm being an idiot."

"You're never an idiot Lexine," Callan said, shaking his head with a kind smile.

"That's sweet of you, I just don't think people get me. I just feel- ow!" She yelped and spun round at the lady, who had gone bright red, leaping backwards.

Lexine's own face had gone a shade to match her own. "What was that for?"

"Lexine it's fine," Callan said, placing a hand on her shoulder. To calm her, Lexine wasn't sure, but this lady… she'd- "She stabbed me."

"I was putting a clip in your hair and you moved. Sorry." She went to move again, but Lexine's

heart was racing, a weird tugging feeling in her stomach that scared her.

"Lexine it's alright."

"It just reminds me…" she drifted off, looking down again, feeling overwhelmingly sad. It was suffocating at times, understanding, but not quite being able to show it in an effective way other than drifting off into these kinds of moods.

"Reminds you of what?"

Lexine sighed, looking back up, matching her sad eyes with his own. "The Games. Pain. Everything. I just… I know what's going to happen… but I don't understand why I have to be here. What I've done."

"You've done nothing. It's just the way it works, Lexine. The way Panem works."

He pulled her into a hug. Lexine moved to wrap her arms round his frail shoulders, and then, standing as still as she could, she realised how badly she was shaking.

It was piling up so much she was scared she might explode. Not everything could have the sun raining down on it, not everything could be perfectly happy, and Lexine was scared because the life she'd had had cocooned her in sanctuary.

Here it felt like she was metaphorically naked to the whole world. Exploring a life she actually, funnily enough, wasn't curious about seeing.

"I just want to go home," she whispered, closing her eyes tight.

"I know you do Lexine," Callan replied, patting her back, "I know you do."

And to do that, she had to win.

How am I supposed to win?

She knew the answer of course. She just didn't… she couldn't… accept it. It wasn't who she was. It never would be.

Hey everyone, so here are the results for the first poll. On my profile is a new one, asking who you think will die in the bloodbath. So go vote on that. I've left it open for eight votes.

So yes, results for favourite tribute!

1st: Tristian Fortier – 11 votes
2nd: Saira Carinne – 10 votes
3rd: Rhaella Cresswell + Lazaro Aden – 9 votes
4th: Noelani Lenoire + Chase Whittaker – 8 votes
5th: Rayah Ausbern + Lucian St. Laurent + Holly Branwell + Ramon Decker – 7 votes
6th: Sherina Harney + Tymas Romain + Clarette Aamira – 6 votes
7th: Vance Seymour + Eliasi Vallis – 5 votes
8th: Jasper Ness + Therese Chaney + Lexine Videl – 4 votes
9th: Chip Flexan + Blaine Carrigan – 3 votes
10th: Henry Eris + Arial Bold + Adley Proctor + Casimar Kaveli – 2 votes

Eh, another update. Is this a good thing, me updating so frequently? I'm writing a lot, I have the next chapter done too, but I don't feel this gives people the time to read (and review, if they're planning too).

So yeah, ehh.

But anyway, on a happier note, I have a collab opened with Cashmere67, so check that out and submit if you want to!