THE CAPITOL AND THE PARADE
Despite that the journey to the Capitol took less than a day, Clove stilled trained on the way there. Between the argument with her mentors and that awkward situation with Cato, she had asked the attendees on the train whether or not there was equipment for working out. They led here to a train compartment where she could at least lift weights and box. After changing out of her dress, she went and worked her arms and jogged around the train a few laps. Cato caught sight of her training and decided to join along. Clove finished an hour later, showering and changing back into her dress, then falling asleep. When she woke up, that was when the predicament with Cato occurred.
But now, the train had stopped, and they arrived at the Capitol. Clove had gone back to the dining compartment with Cato, Brutus, and Enobaria. Crowds of Capitol citizens stood outside, screaming and cheering as they peeked out the windows. Clove wasn't looking at the people, though. She was staring the buildings and streets and shops. They were all enormous, glittering colors showing with the sun beaming down on their reflective windows and walls. District Two's televisions couldn't compare to the actual presence of the Capitol. It was like walking right into a whole new world. In a way, it was. Every single one of the people there were alien like in their appearances. Hair and skin that was colored like candies back home, outfits that were grand and eccentric at the same time, and voices that sounded so different from everyone else's. Their clipped constants and high pitched voices called out to them as they walked down the pathway, off the train.
"Amazing, isn't it?" shouted Brutus over the commotion. Enobaria gave the crowd a wave and a smile, her golden, sharp teeth gleaming. And the Capitol crowd loved it. Their screaming escalated at the sight of two previous Victors, their own little treasures. Everyone always loved previous Victors, especially when they had altered themselves to the Capitol citizen's pleasure, like Enobaria and her teeth.
Soon they were ushered into the Remake Center, where each tribute's prep team would firstly make the tributes look at least presentable, and then they would let the stylist present their costume for the parade. The parade, which happened around the Capitol's town square, the City Circle, was a way of 'expressing' each District's culture. More or less, though, it was a way to make sure you're remembered and to make a good first impression. A frivolous Capitol citizen could take a liking to you, or at least your costume, and decide to sponsor you.
Clove was laid down on a metal table, accompanied by three people around her, all part of her prep team. They stripped her of all unwanted body hair, from her eyebrows to her legs to her underarms. Brutus and Enobaria gave her no directions on how to act around the prep team, so Clove ended up exclaiming her pain each time they ripped a chunk of her hair out.
"Ugh!" cried out Clove as they tore the last strip of hair off her legs. They proceeded to apply an ugly looking cream the color of egg yolk to every inch of her skin. It tingled and burned, but eventually died out to a cool feeling that soothed her skin. After a few minutes of letting that sit on her skin, they hosed her down.
"Good," said one of them, inspecting Clove's body. The person's lavender hair was slicked back and long, and their skin was pure white and unnatural. Long, fake eyelashes that looked like small flowers protruded from her eyelids. "You look at least natural now. I thought you were a boy at first, with all that hair! Plus, you should try smiling more. Scowling all the time doesn't compliment your face!"
Back in District Two, there wasn't really any need to rid your body of hair or to look glamorous. All that mattered was your strength, your competitiveness. As long as you could take down someone twice your size, you were fine. No one cared about your appearance. It was all about power back there.
"Thank you, but I can take care of myself," replied Clove coldly. "I'll look pretty for the parade and the interview, but once I'm in the arena, it won't matter how I look. As long as I can kill, I'm set. I'd like to see my stylist now, if we're done."
The prep team looked offended, one even sporting tears in his eyes as they led her to a small and white room.
"Fausta will be in the back," said the teary member of the prep team tremulously. "You'll be back outside in an hour."
Clove walked into the room, adorned in a white robe. She hoisted herself up on the second metal table inside, waiting for Fausta to appear.
"You must be Clove, I assume." said a steely voice from behind. Clove jumped and turned her head around to see a woman who was dressed in reflective, silver robes and several clinking bangles. Her sapphire hair, twisted with jewels, seemed to move on its own as she walked towards Clove.
"And you must be Fausta," answered Clove cautiously, taken aback by the hard voice that addressed her.
"Please remove your robe."
Clove obeyed. Fausta circled Clove, scrutinizing her body and nodding her head a few times. She handed Clove back her robe and sat down in a chair opposite her.
"District Two is about power and strength," stated Fausta as she stared straight into Clove's eyes. "And from power and strength comes superiority. Which is what I've always channeled into this District's costumes and clothing. I want you to look as if no one else could compete with you, that the very idea was laughable."
Finally. Someone who understood. Clove was beginning to like this stylist and her ideas, because they were right. District One and Four may have also been Career Districts as well, but they weren't like District Two. The others caught fish and made luxury items, so they were fit, perhaps. But District Two created soldiers. They fought and trained every day. The Hunger Games was something that District Two was made for. What Cato was made for. What Clove was made for.
"What's our costume, then?" asked Clove, eager to see what Fausta had created for them. Fausta walked to the back of the room, and emerged with a mannequin covered in a sheet. Placing it in front of Clove, she removed the sheet and at first, the gleam of gold threw her off.
But there it stood. Something that represented power and dominance; something that represented District Two. It was a kind of armor, made of gold. The head piece had a band of metal with wings protruding out from each side. The chest piece corresponded, golden metal feathers layered like a bird's chest. Arm bands and tall boots. All of it looked commanding and authoritative.
"It's wonderful," whispered Clove as she stood up and stroked the chest piece. "It really does make me think of home."
"Good. That's what I was aiming for. We'll do your makeup right now, and then you can put this on."
The prep team was let back inside, this time only guardedly addressing Clove as they applied her makeup. Metallic gold eye shadow was dusted onto her eyelids and long, feathery fake eyelashes were applied. A gloss was applied to her lips, making them shine. Her long and glossy black hair was done in waves that were tied back. And soon, she was wearing the armor of Fausta's creation.
She looked into the mirror and what she saw staring back was a creature of blood thirst and supremacy. Clove looked powerful. Clove looked beautiful. Clove looked dominant.
Clove looked like how any tribute from District Two should've looked. She was shunted outside because the parade was beginning soon, and saw Cato nearby in the same costume. Walking over, she saw the chariot that was prepared for them. Black, muscular stallions were the ones going to be pulling them along. Both Cato and Clove climbed aboard their chariot and soon the opening music was blaring soundly.
"I want you two to look ahead and pay no attention to the crowd," called Fausta from below. "Look almost as if you're bored. Look like you're better than everyone else!"
Cato and Clove glanced at each other and smirked.
"We can definitely do that," replied Cato as the humongous gate started to open. Clove gave a small laugh at that statement as the chariot began to move.
A blast of light came upon them, and soon the screams and cheering of the Capitol were poured upon them.
end THE CAPITOL AND THE PARADE