-Leo, D12M-
"Stay still, boy!" I can't help fidget nervously. I'm sorry I'm not used to being naked with Capitolites buzzing around me like bees. My lips pull into a scowl, but even if I wanted to tell them off, they wouldn't understand a word I'm saying.
"I was just watching a Games with a boy from 12 that knew how to sign," says a girl with a bee hive of golden hair on her head, giving me a poke and measuring the length around my waist with a tape measure. "Maybe they're related! He's poor like you are!"
I sigh. Not everyone that signs should be related. Not everyone that is mute knows each other. I sigh, but don't contradict them. Effie told us we shouldn't snip at our prep teams. If only Haymitch were sober enough for three seconds to give us some real advice.
"Yes, he could talk and hear and all that but he signed, said it was for a younger brother that he learned it, isn't that just adorable?!"
"Oh, you're meaning the 41st Games! Oh, yes, I remember that! Didn't they show that Games in full on Wednesday?"
"Oh, they did. I spent that day with my girlfriends, and we drank together and watched. It was just wonderful!"
I wish they'd shut their mouths for two seconds and tell me it's okay to put the robe back on. The room is cold, and I do everything in my power to keep from shivering.
"Yes, that's an intense one. Shame what happened to the Victor of that one, though."
"Yes, what a shame. Oh, yes, the boy. We have a lot of work to do on him before he's even going to be half good enough for Portia to see him!"
They let me put the robe back on, and start to work. They cut my hair properly and cut my nails. They use all these horrible-smelling chemicals and many different towels and sponges to rid my skin and nails of the dirt and grime that's years old. They make me sit in this bath of stinky chemicals as the dirt is pulled off of me. They scrub at my fingernails, going under and around. They're very skillful, probably very used to making Seam kids pretty.
They lean me back and wash my hair, massaging my scalp and shaking some of the dirt out of it. Against my tan skin, the scars I'd been covering with ash and dirt are now painfully evident.
I don't know how long I'm there, being painfully scrubbed, but just when I think the skin of my chest and shoulders will be red and raw if I sit there any longer, they get me out and rinse me off. They wrap me up in towels, exchanging impressed grins. "Bring in Portia."
A middle-aged woman enters the room. She has light brown skin and crimped, bright blonde hair, with dark lips and huge eyelashes. "Welcome to the Capitol, Leo. My name is Portia. I'll be your stylist."
I shake her hand, nodding a bit.
"If I recall, you're mute, correct?"
I nod a bit.
"Don't worry," she says. "The Capitol has a new prototype that should be able to take your thoughts and express them into words! You should be getting it before your chariot rides begin." The thought makes my heart flutter. I could actually be able to communicate with others? The thought is comforting. Portia continues. "But, for now, it's my turn. I want you to succeed, Leo, and the best way to succeed is by looking your very best. And you're certainly not the worst-looking tribute to be in this room. We can work with you."
I nod a bit. I can't really tell her no.
"If you remember back, think 10 years ago, my first year of styling… My colleague Cinna had the genius idea to set the tributes from District 12 alight with fake fire. Unfortunately, a scared baker boy and a 12-year-old girl with tears in her eyes didn't exactly convey the purpose." I nod. "From there, District 12's tried setting fire to our tributes for 10 years, hoping that just the perfect fiery pair to really make the idea important."
I nod again. I wish I could say something, dammit, but I just have to nod.
"Well, this year we are going to try something slightly different." I blink as she sits me down. "Just relax and trust us." They bring out more smelly liquids and pastes, this time working on my hair. It's a long and horribly boring process of them yelling at me to stop fidgeting. I sign some not nice sentiments, and none of my prep team realizes it. They get to work, Portia talking about this and that with the others occasionally adding to the conversation. I just close my eyes, hoping maybe I can get some sleep before the reaping.
I think about Dereck and Albus and Rebecca. And Zack. All the people I have to get home to. So I deal with whatever the hell stinky stuff they're putting into my hair. They chatter and chat as I keep my eyes closed and hope that it's over soon. They get me up and take me to the dressing room, where they put me in a dark black jumpsuit with red, orange and yellow sparkles on it.
"These will reflect off the lights that are on you nicely," she says, "Subtle touches." She gets out a palette of colors.
"Er…"
"Oh, you and your masculinity," she sighs. "We're going to do make-up on you. Stay still and close your eyes." I sigh, but grudgingly do as she says. I feel the tickles of powder being applied to my eyelids, and the press of a pen against them. I feel it on my cheeks, accentuating my features..
Finally, she steps back, pleased with her work. "Take a look!"
They take me to a mirror. My eyes are framed in red, orange, and yellow, my lips are darker, my face looks more filled and less hollow. My lips are darker, my lids are dark black… And my hair. I realize with horror that it's black, not just dark brown anymore but real black, and my bangs are streaked with yellow and red and orange. I look nothing like Leo, nothing like me.
"I know what you must be thinking," she says. "But this is how they'll like you. Don't worry, dear, the color will come out within a few days. Hopefully it will stay for interviews, though, that'll look slick with the suit you're going to wear.
I nod a bit, turning back to her. "Would you like to try eye injection or contacts?"
I look over, confused. Huh?
"To change your eye color. Again, temporary. Should go back to normal before you're in the Arena."
I shake my head, symbolling that I don't want to do anything to the color of my eyes.
"Do the contacts." They hold my eyes open and press the contacts in, causing them to burn and itch. It feels heavy to blink and stings. When I look into the mirror, my eyes are a dark gray, almost black, speckled with red.
"Now they'll love you."
I turn to Portia, trying not to look as hopeless as I feel.
"A lot of the other stylists will probably be doing this to their tributes, you won't be alone. In fact, your District partner is going to match you, but I believe they're keeping her blonde. Now, I'm done with you, they'll take you to get the device implanted."
I'm taken away to another room and laid down on a chair. I feel a sharp prick of pain in my head, and hear voices explaining what's going on. The procedure takes at least half an hour, but my perception of time is totally screwed up.
When things stop being blurry, the Capitolites hunched over me have wide eyes. "Imagine a keyboard," the woman in charge says, looking at me with bright magenta eyes. I close my eyes and suddenly see an almost holographic blue keyboard floating around in my mind.
"Now imagine the letters, think them thoroughly, exactly what you want to say." I close my eyes to focus, causing pain from the contacts.
"These contacts itch," says the voice, causing the team of Capitolites to squeal happily and applaud.
"Amazing!" squeals one of them.
"A breakthrough! Dr. Townsend is a genius!"
My eyes widen, and I quickly imagine typing more letters, seeing them on a screen in front of me. "I can talk. I can really talk." Whatever they injected into my head even seems to be picking up on my emotions and speaks with them. I imagine my fingers pressing on the keys, making letters appear on the screen. "I can really talk. This is amazing, thank you."
"Oh, wonderful. And right on schedule, Effie will be please! Come, now, you have to go straight to your chariot!"
They usher me out of the room and I see Wren in a bodysuit quiet similar to mine, but this time with a cape of the same material. Her hair is braided, the tip of it black with the red and oranges climbing up the braid. Her eyes are decorated with fiery make-up and dark eyeliner like mine. Hers are a darker blue, with specks of bright yellow.
"Hi Leo," she says. "You look spunky."
I close my eyes to focus on bringing up the letters of the words, "Hi Wren."
She looks shocked. "You talked! That's amazing!"
I think up the letters, making them appear as I put them in. "Capitol technology."
"Oh, that's wonderful!" she looks so happy she almost gives me a hug, but decides against it. She pats our horse's nose, who puffs out air calmly.
"Oh, my tributes!" Effie gushes, her pink lips shining, "This is your big moment, so keep your heads up high!" she smiles at us and nods. "Haymitch, any advice for your tributes?"
Haymitch shrugs. "I'd give them some if only I could find the gin," he says. I roll my eyes, and Effie flicks him.
We see the other tributes climbing up into their chariots. "Good luck, you two! Enjoy it! This is all for you after all."
We both nod. I start up the chariot first, and give Wren a hand to help her up, to which she thanks me.
The District 11 tributes are dressed up in bright green and yellow and red jumpsuits, with little apple hats on their heads. The top of the boy's head is colored red, and the girl's cornrows are colored red, yellow, and green, pulled up into a ponytail. She scowls, and when she turns around to get a look at us the make-up on her face is even worse. Her eyes, once brown, are now bright green with flecks of yellow. Her lips are bright red, and the shadow all around her eyes is layers of vibrant reds, yellows, and greens. The suit she wears isn't supposed to make her resemble an apple, it's much too skintight for that. The boy just looks plain miserable, his eyes bright yellow speckled with red. I feel for him.
Suddenly, the 11 chariot lurches into action, and the tributes turn around. Our horses turn around and start at a trot after them. We're engulfed into the crowd. The Capitolites scream and cheer, a lot of them waving their hands and arms at us. I glance over at Wren, who puts up a hand and starts to wave at the crowd, smiling cutely. They cheer for her like crazy. I put my head up, using what I've gt.
I give a charming, confident smile to show them not to count me out. At the action, they all begin to applaud, whistling and cheering. Some of them even shout, "Leo!" I keep the confident smile, and it keeps growing. The chariots stop, and the fill-in for President Snow reads on his behalf before the horses turn around and go back the way they came.
After the rides, we're left alone to mingle. I see Diesel Bundren and Santana Villanueva amongst the tributes. Eventually I find my way to the pair from 5.
"I'm Hamilton!" the boy is saying, "And this is Cory. Cory is mute."
The girl waves, her naturally red hair certainly vibrant with streaks of yellow.
My eyes widen. Another mute tribute?! She might understand me… I tap her shoulder and gesture the other way, wanting to talk to her in private. She follows me.
I pull up the typewriter, putting in the letters. "My name is Leo. I'm from District 12. I'm mute as well."
She looks at me interestedly.
"The Capitol gave me this device. Do you have one?"
She shakes her head. She makes a motion like talking, and then closes her lips. I can barely believe what I see.
"You… You choose to be mute?" It even comes out as a question. She nods at me.
Suddenly, I feel angry. She was given the gift of a voice, and she chooses not to use it! I thought I had found someone like me, someone who always wanted to speak but could never. Instead this girl has a voice and instead chooses not to use it!? Why would she do that?! Why would she give up her form of communication!? Doesn't she know how blessed she is?! Doesn't she know how people would've died to have a voice of their own to speak with!? I ball my fists, going into a scowl. She seems to sink away from me. The keyboard turns red as I start to type.
"I would have died to have a voice to use," it says, using an angry tone. "This is the first time I've ever been listened to, the first I've ever been able to communicate! You have a voice and you choose to neglect it!? Don't you know that your voice is a gift?!" I glare at her, feeling hurt and upset. She frowns and starts to shake her head, but I turn around. I know I used to hate it when people did it to me, but I can't take this anymore. I can't believe she would stop talking. Why would she do that? "Sorry I thought you actually understood the sadness and pain that comes with being ignored and not being able to do anything about it. But I guess not. Sorry." I turn around and walk off.
I don't need allies. I see Wren talking to a group of girls and go straight for the elevator to go back to my room, still fuming mad and upset and hurt.
-Cyra Hensley, D3F-
My hair's not blonde anymore. Not even close.
I can't look away from the mirror. They gave me an injection beside my eyes that turned them silver in color, not the dull blue they were. I can't look away from them in the mirror.
They put a black and silver tiara on my head. Over the past five or so years, chariot rides have become less about the Districts and more about decorating the tributes like Capitolites to get people to like us. The District does factor into the color palette, but I have a feeling someday it won't matter who's from where, they'll be fully appealing to Capitolites. I'm almost symbolic, the tributes losing the identity of the District and being forced to look like Capitolites instead.
I can't believe they dyed my hair black. Black with silver at the tips. Silver that matches the color of my eyes.
They dress me in a boxy silver outfit, like a robot. They do dark make-up on me, and when they're done, I don't look like Cyra anymore. I look like someone different, like someone I would see on the television and wrinkle my nose at. But no, when I wrinkle my nose, so does the girl in the mirror. My prep team runs around, proud of themselves, no doubt.
I was horrified that my Head Stylist was going to be a male. I fought against them when they told me to strip the robe off. It brought back fears, painful memories of something that was almost a disaster, but changed my life.
But no, I can't think about that now. I can't afford to. I have to try and overcome my fears and memories. I can't let them control me, not now. Not when I have to get back to Lennon, and Tess, and Isaac and Rachelle, and my little nephew Greg.
Anyways, I was somewhat relieved when my Head Stylist came in and was a female. Pretty young, too. Her name is Elentari. She wears bangle bracelets, and has a pixie appearance, with blue wavy hair, blues of all colors, deep blue eyes, blue lips, pale skin… She's nice and energetic, but still a Capitolite.
"Come, Cyra," she says, obviously pleased with her work. "We have to find your District partner and get you ready for your chariot rides!
Her nails are long and light blue as she guides me along. She wears a lot of make-up, and she was gentle as she did mine. She kept talking about how cute I am, how adorable, "aw girl this will look so good on you, are you sure you're aren't from District 1?!" She's nice and well-intentioned, but a Capitolite all the same. Which is unsettling.
"I'm going to be your biggest fan!" Elentari says, "You can call me Tari by the way. Maybe I should ask for an autograph… Oh, but we have plenty of time for that! Oh, Lizzy!" she picks up the pace and I stumble in the high heels I have to wear trying to keep up.
She and Elizabeth, our escort, give each other hugs and kisses in typical Capitolite fashion. Elizabeth wears an outrageous purple dress with butterflies on it, matching her dark purple hair and bringing out her dark blue eyes. Every time she looks at us, I can't help but notice the gemstones beside her eyes, seeming to stare at me like she has four eyes, not two.
"You look wonderful dear," says Elizabeth, smiling kindly at me. I know she means well. She keeps asking me questions and tries to learn our stories…. Which is nice of her, but… She doesn't even seem to understand how brutal the Games are.
"Thanks," I say quietly.
"Cyra!" I turn to see my mentor, Kitty Simmons. She gives me a look that I completely understand, that expresses all the disgust with the Capitol and the outfit they've put me in. At least it's not all sexy like most people are forced to be dressed. Which is a relief. "You look… Like a Capitolite."
I nod a bit, glancing at the tips of hair, black and silver, not blonde, black and silver. They assured me it would wash out and all turn back to normal by the time we get to the Arena, but it still feels so… Surreal. Fake. I can't really describe the feeling to you in words.
"Now, this is your chance to show off your personality. This is your second first impression. If that makes sense."
I nod a bit.
"It's all about personality. Make them like you. If they like you, the Gamemakers will be on your side as well. If you get into a bind, they'll help you. Get them behind you. Get them to like you. It's all about personality."
I nod. Seems easy enough.
"And having breasts like that helps."
I immediately look away, and I think Kitty realizes she hit a soft spot. The 68th Victor adds quickly, "You don't have to, though, I was just suggesting…"
"It's fine," I say quietly.
"Oh, Beetee, Ductor!" Elizabeth goes to where my District partner is with his mentor. I look around the room. The District 4 tributes are dressed like merpeople, the boy completely shirtless and the girl with nothing but seashells. The Five tributes are colored bright yellow, both of them have new yellow highlights. The Six tributes are silver like myself. The girl's curly hair is cut shorter, it appears, in an attempt to tame it, and died dark brown, with streaks of red and silver. The boy's hair appears to be mostly the same color, but when he turns around, observing the tributes, I see that his bangs are black and his eyes are dark red, almost blood-colored. Their outfits are closer to the uniforms of the factory workers. For District 7, the girl's hair starts out brown and gradually fades into a bright green at the tips. The boy's hair is streaked with a darker green. Both outfits resemble trees. I'm looking for the 8 tributes when I'm being pushed forward gently by Kitty.
"Time to get on the chariot," she says. I turn around to see the chariot there, amazed at the size and strength of the horses.
I notice Ductor climbing up. His dark hair is streaked with silver, and when he glances at me as I'm climbing up, his eyes are synthetic as well. His, instead of the silver that mine are, are a more subtle, darker gray color that sparkles like the night sky when looked at just the right angle.
"Cyra, come now." I follow him up, and look around, amazed at being so high. When I turn around, the Four tributes aren't on their chariot yet, and I lock eyes with the boy from District Five. His eyes are an eerie color of yellow, that look like they'd illuminate the room if the lights went off. I quickly turn around after catching his eye.
"Hamilton," Ductor says, noticing from watching the event. "He's 15, like I am."
This whole time he's barely said a word. Ductor's extremely shy, I've noticed. Quiet and reserved, kind of like I am. I nod a little bit. So far, we understand each other better than I was hoping to understand my District partner. After all, if I don't understand them, it'd be much easier for them to be dead. But no. Even though Ductor and I haven't talked very much, we seem to have a connection starting to form. I've been debating on whether or not to ask him about allying, but I'm still not sure. After all, he's only 15, and he's deaf. I still don't know if he has anything to offer… And I have to get home.
The District 1 chariot starts to move, and soon our chariot lurches forward into action. I take a deep breath, my heart pounding with the nerves. This is the chance for me to first get them to like me.
The last thing I want to do to smile, but I know that it's a way to get sponsors. I force a smile across my face and put up a hand.
I notice despairingly that Ductor has a hand up and waving, an easy, relaxed smile on his face. I wish I could be as natural as him.
I try to be convincing, smiling and waving, and people do buy it. I have a few roses thrown at me, and I hear my name amongst all the others in the crowd. However, I'm relieved when we're on our way back after the President-but-not-really-the-President's speech. Of course President Snow will be back soon. Come on, he's ancient.
When we get off the chariot again, Ductor stays by me. "Wanna stick together?" he asks. His eyes have a look in them like he's pleading me more than just a casual question.
"Sure," I say with a kind smile. I know I shouldn't get close to him, but I can't help it.
Ductor and I stick together.
"Hey!" we look up and see the tributes from District 5 approaching, both of them seeming nervous.
"Oh, hi," I say smiling. Ductor waves. I know he's insecure because of having a lisp like he does.
"I'm Hamilton. This is Cory. She's mute."
Cory gives us an animated wave. I smile and say, "Hi Cory. I'm Cyra, and this is Ductor."
"Nice to meet you." Hamilton seems slightly nervous to be talking to people. I feel slightly wary of strangers. Ductor is shy to talk around people. Cory is mute. We're just a very interesting group of tributes.
"You too," I say.
"We're both 15," says Ductor, obviously trying to get out of his personal box to make some friends.
"Oh, yeah, we are."
"You're 17, right Cory?" she nods, and points to me, looking questioning. Her bright yellow eyes still convey all her emotions so well.
"I'm 18." She nods, looking upset because it would've been my last reaping. I sigh sadly.
I see Diesel Bundren and Santana Villanueva talking to the tributes from District 1 and 4, and just hope they don't come over here. I'm glad Ductor is with me, at least he's somewhat familiar… But still… Something about Diesel Bundren is especially unsettling.
I stick close to Ductor, noticing the girl from 8, her huge belly covered with many assorted colors of fabric. My stomach falls. I remember when Rachelle was pregnant, not too long ago… How much Greg means to me… And now there's a girl here who has two lives on the line…
Ductor glances at her, as well, looking uncomfortable and shifting side to side. "Well, want to meet later?"
"Yeah, let's chat later," says Ductor, and I nod quickly. Diesel catches the boy from District 6, where he's standing with the girl from District 9. Her once black hair is now blonde. Her eyes are the color of wheat. She wears an outfit that resembles grain symbolically.
We're approached next by the girl from 10 and the boy from 9. Rachel's once black hair is now a copper brown, and her eyes are now a deep, dark brown. She seems to have freckles, I'm not sure if they're synthetic or if they were always there. She's wearing a black cowgirl hat. The boy from Nine's dark bangs are now a neutral beige color, his eyes are now an orange to match. He looks extremely uncomfortable.
"Hey," he says. "I'm Kade."
"Rachel," says the girl from 10.
"Hi. I'm Cyra and this is Ductor. We're both from 3."
"Oh, nice to meet you," says Rachel. Kade glances back at his District partner, where she fidgets with her fingers nervously talking to the girls from 4 and 12.
"You too," I say.
The District 7 boy joins the group from where he had been talking to Rachel's District partner. His dark wavy hair is now dark brown, his bangs copper brown. He wears a cowboy hat as well. His eyes are made a rusty color. Now Raoul talks to Edgard from 11 and Amari from 6.
"Hey," the boy says shyly. "I'm Kendal. District 7."
We all introduce ourselves again.
"Nice to meet you," I say. The two from 9 and 10 leave us with Kendal. I feel eyes on me and turn around and see Hamilton glancing at us. He looks away when I look back.
"This is all outrageous, isn't it?"
The boy from 7's now moss-green eyes look troubled as he nods. "I'm totally not me. But this is what I have to do. We both nod before noticing a lot of the tributes retiring.
"Oh, I suppose we should be getting back to our rooms. But maybe we'll talk later," I say.
Kendal nods a bit. "Yeah, maybe."
We walk to the elevator together, and in front of us, Iridesce from District 1 is talking with the boy from Ditsrict 8. They lower their voices when we approach, but nothing good can be coming from this. The boy from 8 has blue and orange in his hair, and when he looks up, his eyes are mismatched with light blue and deep orange. Iridesce looks truly like a Capitolite, her blonde hair dyed magenta, matching the deep magenta of her eyes. He seems to be trying to convince her to let him into the Careers… Kendal gets in the elevator with them and bids us good night, and we're left alone.
"Well, what did you think?" I ask Ductor as we wait. I ask again with him looking at me so he can read my lips better.
"I think Hamilton was interested," he says, as the elevator opens up again. He looks at me to talk.
"I think so to." We go into the elevator. We go to the third floor in silence. I hesitate and then tap his shoulder to get his attention.
"So… Are we allied then?" I ask, biting my lip. "Do you want to ally with me? And maybe someone else we find along the way?"
"Oh…" He gives me a smile. "Sure."
We separate and go to our respective rooms. I go to the bathroom and lock the door. When I see myself in the mirror, I jump, my heart skipping a beat, before I realize it's just me. I sigh in relief, getting into the shower.
I don't know what I've gotten myself into, allying with someone younger than me and with a disability. I know I'm going to end up feeling responsible for him. But Ductor and I get each other, and we make a good team. I don't know where this will go, but… I'm determined to make it home.
No matter what it takes.
A/N: Hi! I was going to do four POVs for chariots, but this happened. The POVs were so long, I decided to split it into two parts. So next chapter we'll hear from Callum from District 1 and Serafina Anya from District 4! I hope that part of the chapter comes out soon!
Oh my goodness those chariot outfits XD I hope you guys liked them, I'm so bad at coming up with chariot outfits they're probably so lame sorry lol.
Alright, so I'll say this: my college decision is pretty much certain, which is a big relief. No more visits and auditions sucking up my time. Which is a huge relief. I'm going on a choir trip to New York next week, so hopefully I can update again before then. I'm still keeping track of scores, so no worries!
Oh, that reminds me! I was rereading parts of this to get my inspiration back, and I reread a lot of the reviews and I just want to thank you all again for your reviews. You guys are nothing but encouraging and sweet, and it honestly helps me to want to write more because I know you guys are following the story and enjoying it. So yeah, I was really touched by all your kind words, so thank you so much! You guys don't know how much it means to me. Thanks again!
So something that I did with my partial SYOT 36 is I let people ask the tributes questions over Tumblr and answered them in character. So, in an effort to get to know the tributes better I think I'll do the same thing with 84. If you send me questions for the characters over Tumblr (check my profile), I'll answer them in character ON the Silhouettes blog. Hopefully soon I'll be putting the tributes on there. But for now there's that.
Hm, okay… Do I have anything else to say? I don't think so. If your character wasn't seen a lot in this chapter, don't worry, they'll show up more later! I think that's it, okay. So hopefully I get the next chapter out soon for you all!
Chapter Question: What did you think of the alliances forming/shown in the chapter? Is there anything you want to see more of (besides specific characters)?
