Hey y'all! How's everyone doing? I apologize for this chapter coming out a bit late. Last week was a wild emotional ride with both personal and outside events making my stress levels go through the roof so writing wasn't exactly on the forefront of my mind for a while. But here's the next chapter where we're now at the Capitol folks! Part two of my deep dive shall commence! I'm so excited to give background and side characters more depth, agency, and plot relevance! Also, I headcanon Cinna and Portia as tag teaming siblings who willing chose to style District 12. Anyone else with me on this?
Like always, I enjoy comments, in fact I thrive off of positive comments and love constructive critique ones cause it shows an author that their readers are actually paying attention and enjoying their work.
Thanks for continuing to read this story! Virtual hugs and cuddles to y'all.
Disclaimer: I still do not own anything except any OC's that may come up, any world building that has not yet been officially stated by the books or the movies, and any plot points/structures that have not been used in the books or movies.
Warning: No beta, we die like Rue.
Chapter 9: To the Platinum City of Glitter and Gold
Val and Katniss don't have long to stand around, trying to wrap their minds around their arrival to the Capitol and hoping to somehow prevent or at least prolong the inevitable. Effie's already impatiently ushering the two of them out of Val's assigned room and back into the sitting room car where they had entered the train.
It finally hits them as they look out the window and see the blurring scenery slowly become sharper, giving form to shapes that were previously colorful streaks. Slowly but surely the scenery changes from the browns and greens of the passing forest to the silver and grey of the Capitol. Then the silver and grey become massive skyscrapers and metallic structures as the train slows upon its arrival to the Capitol's main terminal.
Sooner than they would like, the train pulls to a stop with a small jolt similar to its departure. Effie claps excitedly as she bustles around the train car, smoothing down her completely wrinkle free dress and puffing up her hair using a silver tray as a mirror.
Val walks to the window with Katniss trailing hesitantly behind him. Both can only blink in shock at the large amount of people gathered around the platform. The number of people was easily double, no, triple the number of people who had gathered in District 12's plaza earlier in the day.
Val leans his face closer in order to fully take in the view. It was like looking out into a sea of color or more accurately, a large field of wildflowers of all shapes and colors. All seven colors of the rainbow and possibly 30 different shades of each that Val could never hope to name or even remember were represented by the Capitol citizens. Many were holding signs bearing either one or both of their names on them with glitter and jewels as decoration.
The large sea of people were cheering and chanting their names so loudly, Val could hear them clearly through the glass window. He hesitantly holds up a hand and gives a little smile and wave, flushing slightly since it's highly possible that no one can see clearly through the window.
His assumptions are proven incorrectly when the cheers of the citizens seem to grow even louder, the names Valerian and Katniss being roared out as loud as humanly possible.
"Seriously?"
Val turns back to look at Katniss who's crossed her arms and frowned at his little display.
"What?" he asks, confused at her anger.
She rolls her eyes and points at the crowd as her frown grows deeper, "You're really gonna start showing empathy to them?"
"Doesn't hurt to get a head start and it could be useful later on," he says as he shrugs, "You never know who might be willing to shell out the money and be a sponsor."
Katniss moves to retort but is stopped by the sound of the door to the dining cart opening and closing.
"He's right you know. Never know when and where it'll be useful to play the crowd a bit so might as well take every opportunity to do it."
Everyone turns to face Haymitch, who's looking much cleaner and less drunk what with his actually neat clothing and the often present smell of alcohol no longer present. Val, Katniss, and Effie all have looks with varying degrees of shock on their faces.
"Holy shit. Did you actually say something useful?" Katniss says, trying to pull her usual snark but she's much too shocked to pull it properly.
Haymitch scoffs and makes his way over to the siblings, stumbling slightly but noticeably. Huh. Guess he wasn't as sober as Val first thought, but he'll take whatever he can get.
"Oh can it sweetheart. You of all people need all the help you can get so once you walk outta this train, you're gonna smile like your life depends on it. Cause it does," Haymitch says with smirk as Katniss fumes at his words.
Val quickly places a hand on her shoulder both to calm her anger and hold her back if she tries to punch the smirk off Haymitch's face. Katniss angrily shrugs his hand off her shoulder and crosses her arm with pout, which has Val smirking at her too.
She glares before she punches him so hard in the arm he actually yelps from the pain. He holds his arm with a look of betrayal. Katniss rolls her eyes, silently but clearly calling him a big baby for thinking that small punch actually hurt while he glared back and silently called her a brute. She snickers in response, which makes him grin in return and wow. Moments like these always make Val miss the good ol' days back in 2 when it was just him, his parents, and his best friend against the world. And now that train of thought made him slightly fearful. He hoped that there was actually a higher power up there just so divine intervention will make it so Clove did not successfully volunteer this year and will thus prevent Katniss from ever meeting her cause holy shit. Those two would actually set the world on fire on purpose and gleefully laugh while doing so.
Val's attention is drawn back to reality when the main door opens with a loud hiss. Effie excitedly walks out first with a large smile. She's surprisingly quick in those 8-inch heels of hers. When she steps out, she pokes her head back through the doorway to wave at them to "Come out already, please and thank you dears."
Haymitch slaps them both on the back as he walks by them. "Don't forget. Smile and wave. Even if you wanna kill 'em. Smile and wave," he advises before exiting the train behind Effie.
Val moves to follow but stops when he realizes Katniss isn't moving. He tilts his head, silently asking if she was good.
Katniss takes a few breaths in and out to help center herself. She hated change after all. Any change that was forced on her or she didn't instigate herself she hated with a burning passion. Other peoples' attempts to force her to change even more so. Growing up she always preferred to confront any change that wasn't of her own volition with fists a-flying or words as sharp and precise as her arrows.
However, she already vowed that she would do anything for her brother because he's always vowed to do the same for her. If she has to civil instead of strangling and pretend to enjoy the attention of strangers who know nothing...so be it. Katniss swallows her anger down as her hands clench with determination.
She walks forward with her head held high and the two siblings walk side by side as they exit the train. They blink a bit, as their eyes adjust to being outside in the sun again. Val sees Effie already down the platform waving at them to hurry along again. The crowd is even louder than Val imagined. And with how they were all crowding together just to see or get close to him and his sister has him feeling both ill and dumbfounded.
Katniss quickly grabs his hand, losing a bit of her in this strange new environment as the cheers for them grow even louder at the display of camaraderie. They then make their way down to the platform and over to Effie, occasionally waving at the crowd with strained smiles that clearly show how they'd both rather be anywhere but here though it only throws the crowd into even more of an excitable tizzy.
Finally, after a walk that felt like an eternity but was actually only a couple minutes, the District 12 entourage enters the building Effie led them to where two small groups of people wait for them. Just like the large crowd of citizens they just passed, these groups, presumably the stylist teams, are dressed in outrageous styles with different types of fabrics sewn together every which way and paired with hair colors that make Val's eyes water from staring for too long.
"Alright you two. You'll be jumping straight into your styling sessions cause we spent most of the time usually used for sight-seeing, traveling all the way here," Haymitch explains with a serious expression on his face, "You've managed to convince me to put the bottle down for now. So don't make me regret it."
Val and Katniss nod hesitantly.
"Alright. Then here's your next piece of advice. Whatever the stylists do, you let them. No matter what they do, no matter how much you wanna object, you don't. Got it?"
The two nod, more vigorously this time. Haymitch then stabs a finger in Katniss' direction. "And I swear, if I hear that you attacked or stabbed someone instead of restraining yourself like a good little tribute, the deal is off. For both of you," he warns, tone taking a hard edge. He's already decided to go all-in so the two better not screw it up or else he's back to the bottle before they've even stepped foot on their parade chariot.
Val gazes at Katniss with narrowed eyes that weren't quite glaring, "Yeah Katniss. Don't do anything stupid."
Katniss in return responds with a glare that calls him a hypocrite, "Excuse me? I'm not the one who was stupid enough to volunteer for a death game so you've got no place to stand."
Haymitch snorts, "She's got you there. Maybe I should extend my warning to you too. I trust you won't do anything involving violence but your capacity for making sound decisions is highly questionable."
Katniss giggles when Val pouts in response. Haymitch snorts again and waves them off in the direction of the stylists teams. "Alright. Alright. Now go. Get. And have fun," Haymitch says in an almost sing-song way while his smile grows wider like the Cheshire Cat.
Now Val is really nervous about what's going to happen especially given how Haymitch's unnerving smile makes it seem like he knows something that neither of the siblings do and it is definitely putting the both of them on edge. But he's already vowed that he'd do anything for Katniss so what harm could a little styling do?
Apparently a lot.
Val grits his teeth, swallowing back another yell as strips of waxed paper are unceremoniously ripped off his upper thighs.
He hears hums of appreciation at the results as his eyes water slightly from both the sting of pain and bright neon colors on all three assistants of his stylist team.
Assistant number one is Pixma, an androgynous person with neon pink hair styled in a tasteful pixie cut, neon pink make up caked all over their face, and neon pink fabric wrapped all around them like an abstract fabric present. Val had no idea if they were a man or a woman until they corrected him saying they were non-binary, which meant not exclusively male or female. It was a concept that had Val's head spinning since none of the districts had anything like this but if Pixma was happy the way they were, he'd continue to treat them like any other human being, even if he really didn't understand. They're currently brushing more wax onto paper to be placed on his reddening limbs.
Assistant number two is Lazerus, a man with a bulky build that's surprisingly all muscle and scarily no fat. His yellow blonde hair stands out in stark contrast against his dark skin that is mostly covered by a neon yellow unitard that fits tightly around his muscles with each movement stretching the fabric and threatening to tear apart. He's currently examining Val's facial features with surprisingly gentle movements despite the fact that his hands look like they could crush his head with a single clench.
Assistant number three is Kanon, a thin slip of a woman with neon cyan streaks dyed onto her long and luxurious smooth coal black hair. She wears some rather conservative style jewelry Val recognizes from the ones his mom used to make though these pieces are neon cyan instead of the more subdued silver and bronze. Her neon cyan dress, though blinding, is artful in the way it wraps around her body to showcase her assets in a way that doesn't restrict her movements as evidenced by how she flits around the various stations set up to grab small bits of this and that that she uses on his skin.
"Oh! I'm so jealous of you!" Pixma laments as they place another piece of waxed paper on his legs, "Your skin is so soft even though you come from such a rough district."
Kanon hums in thought, "It might be because 12 is the mining district and mining also means charcoal."
"Your right Kanon," Pixma gasps out at the revelation while ripping off the paper that has Val biting his lip to stop the shout trying to come out, "And charcoal is such a good ingredient in those face masks Lazerus loves to make."
"Yup. It always gets those impurities out. Which is a good thing since even with charcoal being a natural substance in 12, it's still full of who knows what that could be clogging up his pores," Kanon says as she grabs something small and metallic off a station.
"Is that what you're going to do with my face later?" Val squeaks out through the pain, still trying to be polite and make conversation even though he'd really rather already be in the arena then sit through another round of waxing.
Lazerus grunts in response, finally letting go of Val's face to walk to a station where he begins to mix a bunch of what looks to be herbs and pastes together in a glass bowl. Kanon takes his place and starts attacking his face with a pair of tweezers, pulling out small hairs that definitely test Val's will when it comes to holding back the tears of pain.
"Is this really necessary?" Val asks, blinking back another round of tears as Kanon pulls at his eyebrows.
"Of course it is dear!" Pixma exclaims as they place the last round of wax strips on his legs, "Even though you have such light colored body hair, it's still a big no-no when it comes to presentation."
"Unless you're trying to do something like that weird bear phase many of the higher elite tried to get trending last year," Kanon says with a scoff.
Pixma shares a grin with her, "I know right? It was rather horrid seeing all those snobby elites trying to parade overgrown body hair as the next big thing and they even went so far as to dye it in these terrible clashing colors. Honestly! The nerve."
"You said it," Kanon agrees with a sharp nod.
"W-well," Val's voice cracks as Kanon and Pixma continue their pulling and stripping torture. He clears his throat and tries again. "Well I'm glad that I have such style conscious people on my team then. I've never had a need to take care of how I look before, so I'm happy that you guys are helping me take that first step. Thank you," he says as sincerely as he possibly can.
It must work because all three assistants stop what they are doing, look to each other with thoughtful gazes before smiling in unison.
"Oh! You're so polite and sweet dear. You're nothing like the previous tributes we've had," Pixma gushes out as they finally, finally, put away the wax and paper. They take a large bowl with a grey mud like substance inside from Lazerus.
Kanon nods in agreement, "Yeah. All the responses we've ever gotten for our efforts were tears and shouts. Totally ungrateful. Especially the tributes from the Career Districts. They were always so rude to us. Tossing out curses and shouting threats of violence at us. One of them even broke Lazerus' favorite bowl just because they didn't want to be covered in his special seaweed detox body mask."
Val glances at Lazerus who nods tearfully in response while holding up a shard that must be from the aforementioned bowl.
"Completely unbecoming of a tribute," he grunts out as he places the shard back and picks up two bowls, handing one off to Kanon who's finished attacking Val's face and admires her handiwork.
The three assistants then start slathering Val's mostly naked body, since the assistants could tell how uncomfortable he was with fully revealing himself so they offered a cloth to cover his dignity, which he accepted with much gratitude, with the muddy mixture from the bowls.
It was a great relief considering how his body felt like it was on fire after all the tweezer pulling and wax stripping. However…
"Holy shit! That is really fucking cold!" Katniss shouts out as her assistants lather her body with strong herbal smelling oils and lotions.
All three assistants tut in response.
"You were doing so well sweetie. Try not to swear so much, yeah?" Epsona says, clicking her tongue as Katniss cringes away.
"It totally doesn't suit your sweetheart image my dear," Kodak coos while holding her legs down so Kyocera can continue to lather her body with oils and lotions.
Katniss lifts her head enough to glare at the assistant with as much heat as she can before remembering Haymitch's advice. She dials the intensity back to zero and drops her head down onto the table with a sigh. The assistants hum in appreciation and continue their work much to Katniss' growing frustrations.
She's already made it past the waxing without a single tear or sound, especially when the wax was placed in really sensitive and uncomfortable areas. She grit her teeth through the picking and pulling of tweezers looking to get any strays hairs that escaped the grasp of 10 rounds of wax. She lay there on the table, bare as the day she was born, with as much dignity as she could muster and completely thankful for the fact that they were in a solitary room and not a public one though the window above her to the right is very sketchy. She even sat through their non-stop chattering and a shit ton of comments about how brave she was for enduring the very important procedures without a sound and what a strong woman she was for refusing to shed a tear. It made her want to hurl from the disgust curling in her gut at their fake, shallow comments and punch someone, preferably all three, in the face.
But alas, she can't because she made a deal and no Everdeen broke a deal unless the other side broke it first.
So she sucked it up and decided to settle for watching the assistants flit about and continue their incessant chattering while secretly plotting their murders in her head. She's also silently judging them for their clearly skewed fashion sense.
Epsona's all sharp edges and not just in the figurative sense but the literal as well. Katniss has already been on the receiving end of her sharp tongue when the more painful treatments were implemented. Her bright red hair is gelled into the shapes of multiple triangles and her red, orange, and yellow clothes are made from what looks to be sheets of metal cut into triangles and then welded into the sharpest and most convoluted looking dress ever. Katniss wonders if Val's mother ever made something like this and then immediately dismisses the thought. Given his stories, his mom certainly had more dignity and sense than all the Capitol citizens combined. She's currently massaging some sort of oil that smells strongly of lavender on her feet, which was actually rather relaxing to be honest.
Kodak is a man who's clearly in touch (maybe a bit too much in Katniss' opinion) with his feminine side what with the yellow makeup, yellow nail polish, and yellow streaks in his long, brown hair. He's dressed in an outfit made of a variety of circles colored with various shades of yellow that come together like those bizarre abstract paintings Liana used to experiment with until every resident in the Hub finally told her to cut that shit out. The circles trail all the down his long, lanky body from his collarbones to his knees in a circular fashion. His skin is also the smoothest Katniss has ever seen and felt whenever it would accidentally brush against her while he was attacking her face. He's rubbing lotion over her arms that feel super oily and super cold.
Kyocera is a square. That is the only description Katniss can think of as she watches him pass lotions and oils back and forth to Epsona and Kodak before taking a hot towel and wiping off what was rubbed on. He has a square jaw, square set shoulders, a rectangle like body structure with arms and legs that are literally straight lines with bones and muscle. It also doesn't help that he's wearing a shirt that's a perfect blue square that reveals his 6-pack abs with each individual ab also being a perfect square. His pants are also made up of squares that are also various shades of blue and his hair is in a square shape that is thankfully not neon blue but a light blue like the color of the sky.
The entire process of lather, sit, wipe, repeat with each lotion and oil used growing stronger and stronger in smell continues until it feels like her nose is so jammed that she can't smell anymore. Katniss closes her eyes and hopes that the whole thing will come to a merciful end soon because she doesn't know how much longer she can uphold her end of the deal before someone gets stabbed.
Val blinks multiple times as his eyes adjust to the light again after having worn heavy duty glasses when his team used some sort of special light to help "kill bacteria, stop hair from growing back so quickly, and keep that smooth skin baby soft."
He sits up when Lazerus hands him a black silk robe that he quickly puts on to fight off the chill of the room even though the special light warmed him up a little.
"Thank you guys. I really appreciate all the hard work you've done," Val says sincerely since it really did seem like hard work as he laid around for the entire process.
The three assistants are obviously very flattered by his words. Pixma and Kanon giggle to each other while Lazerus gives him a small smile.
"Oh! Think nothing of it dear. Just be sure to wash your face with herbal soap daily or whenever you can so the toxins have less chance of building up and blocking your pores. And do be sure not to scrub yourself too harshly whenever you bathe so as to not make your skin red and irritated from too many protective layers being removed," Pixma advised.
"Don't forget to use lotion or herbal oil that is not too oily in feel. Keeps skin hydrated and looking healthy," Lazerus adds in.
"Oh! Oh!" Pixma claps out as if just remembering something, "And be sure to smile widely but not too widely whenever you're in the public eye and always, always walk with confidence because confidence is key and can help potential sponsors notice you especially since you're from 12 and confidence has never really been a big thing with tributes from there."
Kanon hums in thought, "Well maybe not since the tribute from the 10th Game. What was her name again?"
"Lucy Gray Baird," Lazarus grunts out.
"Right! If you can portray yourself as confident and add in some charisma with a large helping of passion and empathy, maybe even smirk once in a while, then you'll have sponsors eating out of the palm of your hand," Kanon advises.
Val is both confused and flattered by the advice the stylists suddenly tossed his way. "You don't have to do that you know. Be so helpful, I mean. I'm no different than any of the other tributes here."
Kanon gives an un-Capitol citizen like snort at that, "Yeah. Sure, you're totally like the other tributes here, thanking us for our work and not just screaming, crying, or acting like a zombie."
Pixma smiles brightly at Val and nods in agreement, "Mmhm. You're the first tribute to ever show us gratitude. You were nice to us and actually committed to engaging in small talk which is more than we can say past tributes have given us."
"It is only right we give you something in return so why not help you out by giving advice you and your sister can use to gain advantage," Lazarus says with a small smile.
Val looks at the three as if he were seeing them all for the first time and they look back as if he were some one of a kind person they're grateful for having the chance to meet.
"Also helps that we were moved by you and your sister's reaping," Lazarus adds with a shrug.
"Very, very moved," Kanon says with a look in her eyes that seems to suggest there's more to the story than they're letting on. It's definitely something they can never say out loud in the Capitol from what Val can tell. It makes him feel both very flattered and also very scared at what that could mean.
"Anyways!" Pixma says as they clap their hands together to get everyone's attention. "It's time for you to go meet with your stylist! I think you'll quite like him!"
"He's a real class act, he is," Kanon agrees with a wide smile.
"True visionary," Lazarus says, tossing in his own two cents.
Pixma gently guides Val towards the door on the other side of the room and opens it. They gently usher him inside a room with a few couches, minimal decorations, a tea set and snacks on the table, and no stylist in sight. Val turns back to the team of assistants who all wave or give thumbs up as the door slowly closes.
"Don't worry. You're stylist will be there soon so just get comfy," Pixma calls out as they walk back to join their fellow assistants.
"Good luck, young Val," Lazarus says.
"And may the odds be in your favor," Kanon adds as the door closes with a click.
Val stands alone in the room and turns back around to face the couches. Since he doesn't know when his stylist will show up, he might as well get comfortable like Pixma said. So he walks over to the couches and sits down where...
Katniss comes face to face with her stylist and she's...actually a little surprised.
The woman sitting before her is definitely a Capitol citizen, no doubt about it, but...there was something more muted, more...normal about her. Sure she was wearing clothes that Katniss has come to associate with the Capitol but it wasn't loud or obnoxious. It was a simple dress, no puffy shoulders or glitter and jewels or fabric placed in odd ways, with layers of fabrics wrapping around in the purple, red, and orange tones of a sunrise. 'Like Peeta's favorite colors,' Katniss' traitor mind thought. The colors suit her stylist's dark skin. Her hair also isn't some crazy shade or style, just a simple bob with dark brown curls. Her makeup is also rather subdued, just some bright red lipstick, a bit of pink blush, and light purple eye shadow.
"My name is Portia! It's so nice to finally meet you Katniss!" Portia says, her voice light and high but not grating, as she claps her hands together in excitement.
Katniss can only stare when Portia stops clapping and holds her hand out to shake. She stares at the offered hand like one would eye a snake just before it strikes. Portia pulls her hand back when it's clear she's not going to take it. Katniss looks up but it doesn't seem like she's offended as she looks at her with an expression that seems...sympathetic? Or is that just pity and it's Val's influence trying to convince her not to think the worst of every stranger she meets? Regardless, she's just going to glare at this lady and hope she isn't shoved into a miner's outfit or worse...naked and covered in coal dust.
Portia offers her a smile as she reaches out to the tea set on the table. "I hope my assistants haven't given you too much trouble. I gave them free reign to do what they like since I don't quite have enough experience yet in that department," Portia says as she pours fragrant tea from a porcelain teapot decorated with gold vines wrapping around it into two porcelain cups with similar designs. She then sets the teapot down and offers a cup to Katniss with a smile. "And I hope they didn't make you feel uncomfortable since my goal as a stylist is to make you feel beautiful and confident in your body."
Katniss furrows her brows together, survival senses tingling and skepticism rising at Portia's words. "It's your first year isn't it," she bluntly states making Portia blink in surprise as Katniss continues to speak plainly, tone neutral but some hostility still coming through, "And you're just trying to make yourself feel better for getting stuck with 12 cause it is your first year or something."
Portia laughs at that, making Katniss blink in surprise, "My! You're rather blunt aren't you?"
Katniss scowls, taking the cup and quickly taking a sip to distract herself. She pauses as she registers the flavor of the tea. It's herbal, calming like chamomile but with a little something extra that tastes like strawberries with a hint of honey. She takes another sip, this one longer.
Portia carefully watches her as she too takes a sip of her tea. Then she places the cup down on a small plate that's placed on her lap.
"There's nothing wrong with that dear. I quite prefer it that people are honest with me, even if they are too blunt about it," Portia says, her smile showing teeth when Katniss takes another sip to hide a rising blush, "And no. I was not given District 12 simply because it was my first year. I'm not the only first year stylist after all."
Katniss put her cup down, confused, "Then how'd you get stuck with us?"
"Well..." Portia starts to say her expression gauges Katniss for her potential reactions, "I chose 12 when presented with the option as I wished to be a team with my brother who is also your brother's stylist. We wanted to start our own change in the Capitol and we just happened to get lucky this year when 12 reaped a pair of siblings. It's probably fate," she jokes after dropping what sounded like a bombshell to Katniss, "Sibling stylists for sibling tributes."
Portia chuckles but Katniss is too caught up on something that she had just said.
"What do you mean by change in the Capitol?" Katniss asks, sounding bitter, "I thought all of you citizen folk are fine with it the way it is."
For a few moments, she doesn't answer. Instead, Portia stares with a neutral expression at Katniss as if trying to dig deep past the walls she's put up and see her true inner self beyond all the sarcasm and hostility. It unnerves Katniss greatly as seems like Portia's able to look into her soul and all her secrets were laid bare before her calculating gaze. Only when she starts squirming does Portia break the stare and finally respond.
"I'm not surprised you caught that. You're more perceptive than I first thought though you do seem like someone who can see past nonsense and refuse to tolerate it," Portia responds with an even tone as she picks up her cup and takes a sip.
"Does this mean you're answering my question?" Katniss asks, her expression a mixture of confusion, trepidation, and annoyance.
Portia places the cup back down and smiles, "Oh course." She then places the cup on the table and clasps her hands over her lap. "My brother and I feel that the Capitol has grown complacent," she explains, "It's citizens have become fat, lazy, and greedy for that which is not their own. They're content to put it simply. Content to let the President and his council direct them as they see fit without even thinking for themselves."
Katniss grows mystified the longer Portia continues to speak. "There's no desire to change, no passion to do something, be someone that's genuinely different from everyone else," Portia's explanation slowly becomes an impassioned speech, "Everything is fake. Everyone is fake. Nothing is truly genuine or real anymore. My brother has a passion for fashion and he wants to use it to influence the people to change. To do better and be better."
She pauses as if to gather her thoughts and keep her one-woman audience captivated and waiting in anticipation for her next words. Katniss isn't patient enough for that so she says with much impatience, "And?"
Portia's smile grows wider, "My brother is an artist. He uses clothes as the medium in which to carry his messages. He wants to use it to influence the citizens to change and the only way to do that is to cloth the ones the people love to watch the most, the tributes. And if fortune smiles upon us, the Victors."
The answer totally throws Katniss off and makes her think there's more to it than Portia is revealing. But she's never been good at reading between the lines, it's always better for things to be stated as plainly as possible, no mind games. God does she hate mind games. But enough of that. Portia still hasn't technically answered her question.
"But you haven't really answered my question," Katniss says, "Why did you choose 12?"
Portia pauses to weigh her answer before responding, "Before the Reapings, my brother and I were debating on whether we would choose to style District 11 or District 12."
"So you guys don't have the districts assigned before the Reaping?" Katniss asked, confused.
"Oh no. Not after what happened during the 38th Games. The Gamemakers decreed that stylists may choose their Districts after the Reaping so as to allow more creative freedom though the order in which you may choose your District is determined by seniority status," Portia explains.
Katniss nods in understanding and prompts Portia to continue with a tilt of her head.
"During our debate, your Reaping happened to occur just as we were about to make a final decision and we were so..." Portia pauses to gather herself as emotion seems to overcome her, "Moved so...awestruck by the true display of emotions that you and your brother displayed during your Reaping. The determination and resolve to fight and live. The tears shed for a star-crossed love that would be lost if not for the impassioned cry of a sibling desperate to protect and to provide salvation for another. It shook the both of us to the core and convinced us that it would be our privilege to be your stylists."
"So you were just "moved" by our very real and very valid emotions and just decided that we were the perfect pawns to be used for whatever political message you guys wanted to send?" Katniss asks, her rage slowly rising as Portia's words make it seem as if they only chose 12 cause of the emotional show they provided rather than the fact that she and her brother didn't want to lose their loved ones.
Portia shakes her head, "Oh no, no, no. That wasn't what I meant."
"Then what did you mean?" Katniss asks, crossing her arms with a glare.
Portia raises her hands up in surrender before responding, "You and brother portrayed a display of emotions that hasn't been seen in many, many years. We were not the only ones shaken by it. It had an impact on many others. And while we would hope you agree to allow us to style you in the manner we wish, we also chose you because you showed to the whole of Panem that you were real people with real emotions and real ties to real people. Something that the Capitol has forgotten and needs to be sorely reminded of."
She lowers her hands and leans forward across the small table to place a hand on Katniss' tightly clenched ones. "Within you and your brother, we saw something beautiful. A will to live, a determination to protect, a desire to fight, a drive to survive...We saw fire," Portia says, her tone reverent and sincere, "You both deserve every chance at surviving and me and my brother want to help you get them. If you'll let us."
Katniss gapes, wide eyed at Portia. She wants to say something about how that was all just some mind game or Capitol trick that all the stylists used to convince their tributes they were all on the same boat when they actually weren't. But she can't. She's touched by how genuine Portia is and how she seems to actually want to help.
So she decides to speak her mind the only way she knew how, plainly, to the point, and no beating around the bush. She has a brother to save after all.
"Val, my brother, is a self-sacrificing idiot," Katniss states bluntly which makes Portia smirk in amusement, "Every decision he's ever made has always been with the goal of protecting mine and Prim's happiness no matter what the cost. And I am…" at this point her voice cracks from unshed tears, "So tired of seeing him sacrifice his chance at happiness just so I could keep mine."
"I want to protect my brother and give his chance back even if it's at the expense of my own life," Katniss declares with the fires of determination burning in her eyes.
Portia's hand curls around Katniss' own in a gesture of comfort. "I feel the same for my brother as well," Portia confesses, "He's passionate about his beliefs even though they are considered radical and treasonous under the President's regime. But I'll do anything to make sure they are achieved even if I have to play the scapegoat just so he can live to fight another day."
The two women sit in silence, connecting on a level that quietly tells them that they will support each other in their individual endeavors. It's a connection only achievable when one is a younger sister to a self-sacrificing older brother.
"Now," Portia pats Katniss' hands in reassurance, "Why don't you take a quick nap? That was a rather emotional talk we had and it's probably drained you."
Katniss appreciates the gesture though she asks, confused, "But don't I still need to get dressed or something? The tribute parade's happening soon right?"
Portia laughs, "Oh no. That won't happen for a few hours. We still have time. Besides, my brother is probably just meeting with yours. He needed to stay back for a bit in order to go over the final details for your outfits."
"Alright then," Katniss agrees, rolling with it cause she actually is kind of tired. "Oh!" she exclaims as a thought suddenly occurs to her, "I forgot to ask. What's your brother's name?"
"My name is Cinna," Val's stylist greets with his hand held out, "It's nice to meet you Valerian."
Val tentatively takes the offered hand and shakes it as politely as he can. "Please call me Val," he says as he eyes Cinna critically, "You're...not what I was expecting."
Cinna looks amused because it's true. He doesn't look like any Capitol citizen Val has seen in all of his 18 years. Cinna has an average build and is dressed in a silk, dark maroon button down and form-fitting black slacks that still manage to stand out against his dark skin. His hair is a close shave and his beard artfully trimmed. The only indications that Cinna is indeed a Capitol citizen are the small, gold hoop earrings and light gold eye shadow.
"I'll take that as a compliment," Cinna says with a grin, telling Val that this look was exactly what he was going for.
Val gives a small smile in return, slowly relaxing because hey, this might not be so bad after all. Maybe he and his sister will get lucky and they won't have to wear oversized miner's outfits or nothing but coal dust.
Cinna gestures for Val to sit down and get comfortable on the couch as he moves to sit on the one across.
"So," Val says as he sits back down, "Did you pull the short straw or something? You must've wanted some other District besides 12 right?"
"Is that what you think?" Cinna asks while draping his arms over his crossed legs.
"Well why else would you get stuck with picking 12?" Val asks in confusion cause really, what stylist would willingly choose the District with no Victor besides a drunk.
Cinna hums in thought before responding, "My partner and I chose District 12 on our own volition even though it was expected for my partner to receive 12 regardless as it's her first year."
"And you still chose to stay partnered with her and District 12?" Val asks, looking completely mystified that yes, there was indeed a stylist who willingly chose 12 and wasn't held at gunpoint while doing so.
Cinna nods and Val just has to ask him, "Why?"
The two then commence with a stare down. On one side is Val who's all wide-eyed and mystified, looking at Cinna like a mythical creature that couldn't be real because it was a myth. On the other is Cinna who stares at Val with a calculating gaze as if trying to strip him down and read his soul like a book.
Whatever Cinna finds must be acceptable cause he nods and responds to Val's question with the utmost seriousness. "I have always felt that the Capitol was rather...stagnant in its beliefs and day to day routine. There's no desire to change anything beyond one's physical appearance, no drive to seek the unknown beyond the walls of the Capitol, no fight to become the better example that's been preached by our President to 13 and back."
Val visibly starts when Cinna mentions District 13 because no one mentions 13. It's become synonymous with treason and thus taboo to even think about let alone speak of it. Cinna continues on, watching Val's reactions with a sharp gaze.
"There's no passion, no drive, no motivation. No one in the Capitol has any fire left. There needs to be a change. Something that can relight the fire in everyone's eyes," he explains with a passion that draws Val in and makes him forget that what Cinna's saying is basically treason, "When I saw the Reaping for 12, I was moved by the raw emotions you and your sister displayed. Never in all my years had I ever seen something so passionate, so emotional, so real. Even a blind man could tell that you only chose to volunteer to protect your sister and to care for someone like that...It's not something that's taught here in the Capitol. It's citizens only care based on what they can receive whether it be entertainment, wealth, or power. And any one who dares to care beyond that must hide it away lest the Peacekeepers catch wind of it and make them disappear." Then Cinna's expression turns grave, "But if enough citizens are shown what it's like to care and are encouraged to no longer be stagnant in their shallow ways," he chuckles darkly, "Well, they can't make all of them disappear."
Val gapes at Cinna as he smooths his features back to neutral. "But isn't that basically treason?" he asks, completely bewildered.
Cinna merely smiles with an unreadable expression, "I won't tell if you don't."
It's then that Val realized that Cinna had just entrusted Val with a secret. And he's touched that a stranger, and a Capitol citizen at that, trusted some random kid from 12 with a secret as heavy as this. It made him feel obligated to share a secret in return, especially one that's been weighing heavily in the back of his mind. A secret that was out of sight and out of mind, but one that refused to be truly forgotten.
"My reason for volunteering isn't as noble or as passionate as you think," Val confesses.
Cinna raises an eyebrow at that. He's curious by what Val means and it prompts him to continue speaking.
"It may seem like I volunteered to protect my sister's boyfriend and thus give her the best chance to make it back to him...but that's not the whole reason," he says, taking a deep breath to center himself before continuing, "I'm not Katniss' real brother."
Now that caught Cinna's attention. "What do you mean by that? The sibling bond between you two seemed too real to be faked," he asks, confused.
"Well I mean I am her real brother, but I'm not her real brother. I wasn't born into the Everdeen family but adopted," Val explains which clears up some of the confusion Cinna expressed, "Her father, our father, saved my life and offered me a home when my family was killed months before I made my way to District 12. Yeah I wasn't always from 12 either," he replies when Cinna opens his mouth to voice the question.
"I volunteered because I owe a debt to my sister's family for taking me in when they didn't have to. And the only way to repay it is to make sure Katniss goes home alive. The fact that I also happened to help Peeta out is just a bonus," Val finishes confessing.
Cinna nods with a deep understanding that has Val questioning if Cinna himself had a younger sibling he'd do anything for. Maybe it's his stylist partner or maybe it's someone who was recently made to disappear by the Capitol, which could explain why he's acting so gung ho about committing treason instead of being more subtle about it.
"I'd also like to tell you my real name..." Val offers hesitantly since he's already confessed one half of his secret, he might as well go all in.
But Cinna shakes his head. "No," he firmly responds, rejecting the offer, "That is not a secret I need to know." His expression softens and he places a comforting hand on Val's which had unconsciously clenched during his confession. Cinna's hand is warm and surprisingly reassuring as slowly unclenches his hands under his comforting grasp.
Val looks up and meets Cinna's unwavering gaze. "Your name is an important part of you Val," Cinna says, gently patting Val's relaxed hands before returning his own to his lap, "You should keep it close to your heart and only share it when there is absolute trust, not for some twisted form of an eye for an eye trade. That's not why I told you what I did. Nod if you understand what I'm saying."
Val nods slowly, brain running a mile a minute as it works to process the words Cinna just spoke. Seeing the steam that was probably coming out of his ears, Cinna leans back on the couch and taps his chin thoughtfully.
"How about we switch gears and talk about the outfit designs we've come up with for you and your sister?" Cinna suggests in an attempt to switch topics and remove the suddenly melancholic atmosphere. Val gratefully jumps at the chance and nods vigorously before pausing.
"It's not going to be anything unflattering like some variation of a miner's uniform or like that one time the tributes were covered in coal dust and nothing else, right?" Val asks, suddenly weary cause if he's going to be presented in front of millions of people before he dies, he might as well look good doing it.
Cinna smiles widely in a rather unnerving imitation of the smile Haymitch had before throwing them to the stylish wolves. With a completely serious tone that shows not even the slightest hint of joking despite the Cheshire Cat-like smile, Cinna asks,
"How do you feel about fire?"
And that's the end of part two of three! Hope you guys enjoyed it and were able to follow along with the changing POV's. I tried to be all slick with the transitions but still making it obvious so you guys know it's changed but I don't really know if I succeeded. I also hope I wasn't repeating myself too much. I'm a little more self-conscious of this chapter than the previous ones cause I'm trying to give Cinna and Portia more personality and character depth while working to establish relationships of trust between them and their respective tributes...but I feel like I got really repetitive and talky here? I don't know, it might just be the stress and anxiety talking but I hope you guys enjoyed reading it regardless.
Next chapter's when the tribute parade is happening and the long awaited reunion between Val/Cato and Clove, which will be where his past and present identities start to clash! And I hope that I'll be able to meet your expectations and my own goals for that chapter. Until next time!