After what seemed like forever, and I had been showered, scrubbed, waxed, filed, fed, scrubbed again, and rinsed, I finally met my stylist. I sat up on the steel table I was worked on, wearing only a cloth robe. A pale, unhealthily thin woman stalked in. Her startlingly pink eyes popped out of her thin face. Her full lips were covered in a scarlet color, that matched her tall, tall shoes. She wore a very deep cut grey sweater, and pink pants. Her hair was in four braids in the back, which molded into one at the bottom. It was a royal blue color.
"Dear, sweet, little girl," she said, her accent was very peculiar, more elegant sounding than most Capitol citizens. "What is your name darling?"
"Johanna," I said meekly "Johanna Mason"
She put her hands on the sides of my face. "District Seven, always, has pretty people. I am Teres, and it is such an honor. We shall discuss you chariot outfit over lunch, OK, dear?" Two short, black haired men scurried into the room, carrying two trays of food. I pulled the lid off mine as soon as they left. Three dishes, and a tall, hour shape glass full of a dark purple liquid, that tasted like frosting and berries.
The first dish was a bowl of that same broth I had on the train, which Teres called Miyabi. It was the best thing, I just couldn't get enough of it. The second, was chunks of chicken, and some yellow tangy fruit that she said was a pine but I don't believe her, because I have eaten pine cones and they were not this good. The last dish was a pastry with creamy cheese and an apple filling.
"So, darling, I want to present you and the other boy as strong warriors!" She said, her eyes glowing with the excitement of firecrackers. I'm sure the costumes were like, iron trees or something, and any other tribute would be OK with being portrayed as strong, but that wouldn't work if I was going to play the weak girl. " The costumes are very abstract trees."
"How many people have you dressed as a tree?" I asked.
"They're not always trees!" she said defensively. I guess that was almost true, we were trees all but one year, but about five years ago they wore paper formal wear, with pine trees carefully painted on. "But, if you must know, this is my twenty-second year, Blight and his partner Victoire were my first." I felt kind of bad now.
Two hours later, I was standing in front of a mirror. The costume really did make us look strong. I wore a floor length white cotton dress, cinched under by breasts, and the straps were held by two District Seven seals. Teres let me wear the medallion that Cornelia Aldjoy gave me. Over the dress, I wore arm bracers, and a breastplate made from gold painted bark. My makeup was extravagant, beautiful green and gold curls extending from the corners of my eyes, and a deep brown lipstick on my thick lips. Lastly, I wore an unpainted laurel crown on my twisted up hair. Velorum came in, Catax and his stylist trailing behind.
"Oh!" he squealed "You look gorgeous honey!" Everyone had a pet name for me, darling, honey, dear. We got in the elevator, and began our ascent. Once we were at our chariot, we had to wait for the parade to begin. The opening ceremonies were the first look the sponsors got of the tributes, other than the reaping. Blight was over chatting and drinking with a one handed man from Eleven, and a shaggy haired drunk from Twelve. I glanced around, taking in my competition. The girl from two stomped on my two as she walked past.
"Oops, sorry," she said in a high girly voice. She was shorter than me, but just as thin. Her green eyes stabbed me like the knives she probably threw at cats for fun. Her brown wispy hair was kept under a tight leather cap. She wore a fitted black leather suit, with a bedazzled brown apron. Stonemasons. Officially District Two was in charge of masonry, sending bricks, cobblestone, and most building materials. Everyone knew that behind closed doors, they were in charge of training and shipping peacekeepers, our military and guard. They also, along with One and Four, trained their kids for the Hunger Games. It wasn't officially allowed but they did it anyway. It pays off too, they win almost every year.
Teres and Catax's stylist, who introduced himself as Bravura told us to get on the chariot. It was drawn by two light colored horses, one with black spots, but the other a solid color.
"Quickly, quickly!" Brava said, and smacked the horse's rear end. It started moving forward, and with a lurch, they picked up speed and we were out, into the night.