Thank you Jamez S, Guilia982, HogwartsDreamer113, MsMKT68, S, PenMagic, QuinnDeRavensborough and Joe for reviewing! :)
Extra thanks to those who pointed out my incorrect American measurements, haha!
XXXI. One Clump Of Seaweed
He's done it. Well, they've finally done it.
The two costume designers for this District Four this year are complete whack jobs. I'd heard Marlene screaming and flipping chairs and tables over from outside her room, but only now do I understand why she had. I'd thought it was her usual self getting easily aggravated.
Wrong.
Caecilius and Calindia Armstrong are the worst pair of costume-designing siblings ever. As we step back to take in the ungodly sight of Marlene and Thomas, they squeal.
"Oh. My. God!" says Calindia. "These costumes are just amazing, don't you think, Finnick?"
"Um…" I stare at the duo and my jaw drops, momentarily. "Sure…"
Caecilius giggles and waves his hand in front of himself, as if he's just met his biggest idol. "I know. Fantabulous, right?" Fantabulous? "Anyway, Calindia and I must head off now. We're an essential part of the audience-" I'm sure they are. "And we wouldn't want to miss a thing! Remember not to ruin your costumes!"
They prance off, beaming like they've just found the magic pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. Shaking my head, I groan. "This is horrible."
A sneer has etched itself on both of our tributes' faces as they watch their stylists bounce away. "You cannot seriously be telling me that I'm wearing this to the Opening Ceremony. This is ridiculous."
"I'm afraid you have to," Joseph says, offering a sympathetic smile. "Besides, it's not that… bad."
Sure, it isn't.
Marlene and Thomas have their bodies adorned with one tiny clump of seaweed, covering minimal area of their lower private parts, and Marlene has an additional tiny, clam shell bra to go with it, which doesn't really much to the imagination. Sand and seaweed have been clumped messily in their hair, disheveling their natural states into a huge bird's nest. They look like they've been scavenging for food in the poorest parts of the District for weeks. Thomas' prep team must have done a huge load of work, since the grease in his hair is no longer evident and he no longer reeks of raw fish.
"I guess it's best to leave it," I propose, uncertainly and look at Joseph for some guidance. "If you ruin it, Caecilius and Calindia are going to hate you for more than a few lifetimes."
"But, Finnick!" Marlene protests. "I have my dignity too, you know? This piece of shit won't gain either of us any sponsors."
"I'll get you guys sponsors, I swear," I reply and look at Thomas. "You too, kid."
He smile gratefully at me, and I assume he's warmed up to Joseph and I, maybe even Marlene but that's most likely a work in progress. As the elevator doors open, I place a firm hand on Marlene's bare shoulder and say, "Make friends." I subtly nod towards the bejeweled pair from District One who wave our two tributes over.
"They are no friends in the arena."
"True. Make allies, then. And remember to smile and wave out there."
"Finnick!" I hear Cashmere's familiar tinkering voice yell my name. I grin at her and her twin, making my way over. They're engaged in a conversation with a petite girl: Krystal Haddock of District Ten, Victor of the 67th Annual Hunger Games. I offer her a charming, knee-buckling smile and take her smaller hand in mind, planting a kiss on the back of it. "You must be the famous Krystal Haddock. It's very nice to meet you."
A rosy shade of pink blossoms on her cheeks and she momentarily seems to be overwhelmed. "Likewise, Finnick Odair," she replies, somewhat smoothly. Krystal, however, assumes that since Joseph, Gloss, Cashmere and I are together, we're about to engage in a Career conversation, so she leaves us to associate with Cecelia from Eight.
"Are we allying with Two this year?" Cashmere asks with a hushed whisper.
Joseph rolls his eyes and snorts loudly, attracting the attention of a few others but he ignores them. "Count my boy out."
"Well, obviously. If he joined the Career pack, he'd have his neck snapped within a split second anyway," Gloss says, indifferently. "Our tributes don't know if they want to stick with Two or not, but they're willing to take your girl and the kid from Seven." He gestures to a guy around eighteen-years-old, dressed as a tree. His muscles are rather defined, undoubtedly from years of lumberjack and axing away at tree stumps.
"I guess he'd be a good ally," I agree, nodding.
"Let's just watch the tributes train," Cashmere suggests. "We'll see then."
The boy from One leans towards Marlene, looking away from Thomas without a second glance. The close proximity between the two of them is almost non-existent. "Your kid better keep his hands off Marlene," I say to Gloss, scowling at his tribute. Orion adds a flirtatious smile – one that I know all too well – and winks.
Maybe not so goth anymore.
His costume probably took that aspect of him away, since he's got a pink, diamond encrusted body suit on at the moment. It's cringe-worthy but I don't doubt for a second that this is the usual costume for District One, and always considered to be one of the best dressed, with Two and Four following their footsteps.
"Why? She your girlfriend?" Gloss asks with an obnoxious smirk.
I almost scoff in disgust. "Nah. We're in the same classes at school, and I mentored her brother two years back. You know, the one where Althea Yule won?" I shoot a glare at Cashmere and she holds her hands up, an action often considered to be 'innocent'.
"As annoying as she may be, she was the best tribute I've had."
"Whatever. I actually plan on bringing his sister home."
We're ushered towards the front seats of the audience and I find myself sitting between Gloss and Enobaria. Fantastic. Enobaria shoots me a vicious, blinding smile, the city lights reflecting off her golden teeth. That action alone is enough to send shivers crawling down my spine.
I remember her Games rather vividly. It was the year before Gloss' victory: the 62nd Annual Hunger Games. Her Games has been and will most likely remain to be named as one of the most memorable of all time. Of course, it was mostly due to the fact that no one else really claims their victory by tearing another's throat out with their own teeth. While she was a tiny thing, that only made her presence even bolder. Naturally, to be fully aware that she's sitting right next to me, I unconsciously edge towards the right of my seat towards Gloss.
I may be a man, but no man has no fear.
Behind us, Haymitch and Blight complain about their tributes' costumes. "Hey, don't you dare complain, Abernathy," Blight says. "District Seven has been dressed as goddamned trees for who knows how many decades."
"Yeah? This year, my kids are in the nude with dust powder sprinkled all over them." Haymitch burps loudly and atrociously enough to have Cashmere and Cecelia complaining about his drunken actions. To further irritate them, he takes another long swig of his alcohol, waving the bottle about – just like Gloss had all those months ago.
"At least it's something new," Blight grumbles, folding his arms across his chest.
Haymitch cackles into my ear from behind. "I'm already sick of seeing their lack of costume."
Gloss's patience finally wears thin and he turns around, flipping the finger. "Shut the fuck up, would you?"
Instead of offering back a snarky reply, Haymitch decides to sway on the spot, laughing hysterically. Thankfully, the anthem begins to play and the tributes from District One appear. They wear smiles as dazzling as their attire and wave their arms around, a sight rather absurd on Orion. I notice through the close-up that the girl has a violet shade of purple for her eyes.
For a second or two, I think that District Two has two male volunteers this year, until I realise that the girl – Dee – has her dusty brown hair up in an intricate manner, and tucked underneath the headpiece she wears. "She looks like a joke to girls," Gloss says, and Enobaria is quick to shoot him a menacing glare, which doesn't affect him in the slightest.
District Three is dressed in the usual one-piece outfits of gadgets. This year, they're solar panels. I'm not completely sure what solar panels are, but with the blinding torchlights reflecting against the metal pieces of their outfit, I don't really want to know either.
And then, there's District Four.
We're a joke this year. Caecilius and Calindia had better be demoted next year. Our two tributes are wearing outfits that many women would call slutty, and I can't disagree. Seaweed should never be used as costume materials, I note to myself. Marlene's smile is blinding as she waves to the crowd, politely, but the fire sparking in her blue eyes is hard to miss.
The vast majority of their skin is out in the open for the entire of Panem to see, and I cannot even begin to imagine how humiliating it'd be if I were there for my Opening Ceremony.
Behind me, Haymitch barks out in laughter, slapping the back of my head a little roughly. "District Four's a joke this year."
I can almost see Joseph sulk as he says, "We know that, Abernathy. No need to rub it in, though you shouldn't be talking."
When District Seven appear, the diminished cheers become louder once again when the Capital view the tributes – or more specifically, the male tribute whose name is Corbin. He's just as much of a joke as Four this year, since his costume is the typical tree of District Seven. If only he had a costume which emphasized his physical stature, he'd seem to be more of a potential threat to Districts One and Two.
We find ourselves getting lost in the banter that seems to be a constant occurrence amongst the mentors, even with Drakula and Enobaria, who tend to stick to themselves. Before we know it, District Twelve are the last to appear and the group of mentors laugh and jeer as Haymitch does as well.
"You really need a new stylist, Abernathy," Chaff from Eleven says, clapping his back non-too-gently.
Cashmere giggles as she points to the pair from Twelve. "I don't think they covered all of their body parts with coal…"
When Snow finally finishes presenting his usual speech – which is a whole load of bull – Joseph and I manage to weave my way through the crowd of tributes, mentors and ceremony coordinators, to find Marlene fiddling with end of a seaweed strand and Thomas, twiddling with his thumbs. "Come on, let's go before anyone else comments about how ridiculous you guys look," Joseph says, to which Marlene replies with a scowl and a sarcastic, "Thanks for the support."
We share the lift with the tributes from Seven and their mentors Blight Marah and Wren Kardrine. The boy, Corbin, offers Marlene and Thomas a civil smile, to which they send back. As we walk out, the elevator doors close behind us and I drag Marlene to her temporary bedroom. "Shower and get changed."
I'm more than grateful when she complies with my orders and does so rather quickly. She comes out in an oversized shirt and tight leggings, running her hand through her damp, black hair and she sits down on the bed, next to me.
"What's your plan?" I ask her.
She chews on her bottom lip, and twiddles her thumbs, glancing away from me. "I actually don't know."
"You… don't know," I repeat.
"I don't know."
"What are you planning on doing?"
"I know you're thinking that I'll charge straight into the Cornucopia and just slice every body that comes my way in half, but I'm not." She pauses for a brief moment, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "The Games aren't just about brute, right? I saw your Games and you weren't a killing machine or anything. Like, Mags won by hiding so there's got to be something that involves the manipulation or innovation of the brain."
I admit, that's probably the opposite of what I'd originally thought she'd planned on doing. I feel some of the metaphorical pressure on my shoulders, relieved that she's not entering the Games in the same way Andromeda and Wes did last year.
"How about for training tomorrow?"
"You have two and a half days of training. Divide your time up between nature skills: climbing, edible plants, creating fires, and such, and weapon training. On the third day, you'll show your talents off to the Gamemakers. "
She rolls her eyes. "I know that. Everyone does." And there's the fire, once again.
"I'm not going to tell you what I think you should do in the arena just yet; not your allies anyway," I say, tapping my fingers on the soft bed sheets. "I'll be watching you and the other tributes train. Make some friends, especially with Districts One and Two, and the guy from Seven. I'm assuming Thomas is going to make his own allies, and I suggest you to not learn the names of the younger and… more innocent tributes. Oh, and don't show off everything you can do."
Marlene nods and for a moment, she looks somewhat innocent – somewhat being the key word. She turns to me and asks, "You'll get sponsors, right? We probably looked like fools tonight."
I laugh, bitterly, mentally reminding myself to give the Armstrong sibling stylists a good talk later. "You looked more than just fools, but of course, I'll get you sponsors."
A/N: Who believes that Marlene will win the Games? Or is everyone just hoping that Thomas will pull through? Haha, please leave your thoughts in your reviews! :)