Chapter 6: Ceremony prep
Allison Winters
Kevin and I are taken into a large square building looking to be only two stories high and is a pale green colour, strangely standing out against the brightly coloured buildings around it. The first floor is all one room, sectioned off by dark curtains. We're lead into our own sections, his being right beside mine. The number twelve and our district seal in white on the curtain seperating us. They begin the "remaking process" by having me change into an apron like article of clothing, if it can even be classified as that. It has t-shirt sleeves and stops mid-thigh and the only thing covering my back is a string tied into a bow to keep it on my body. They have me sit in a tub as they take things off a table nearby, bottles of strange liquids and metal tools. "They" being a tall woman with spiky orange hair and piercings covering almost all of her left ear -up to the point where you almost can't tell it's an ear anymore- and a ring pierced right in-between her nostrils and a shorter, but tall man with short curly blue hair and iridescent jewels implanted all over his fore arms, his skin dyed a soft shade of purple. The woman goes to pour something on my legs.
"What's that?" I bite my tongue after I've said it, the one thing my mentor told me not to do I've done. Well technically he only said not to object, asking isn't exactly objecting.
"A miracle in a bottle is what it is." She says in the odd accent Capitol residents are known for. "It will remove your unwanted body hair, this might sting a little." She pours the contents of the bottle onto my legs and a stinging pain comes with it. "A little" turns out to be quite a big understatement. However I grip the sides of the tub and keep my mouth shut as they both scrub the mixture making it foam up. I let out an involuntary sigh as they rinse the foam off, taking the stinging pain with it.
"We're required to do this to your whole body, but we'll do it one part at a time to help ease the pain." The curly haired man says. They have me take off the apron thing leaving me butt naked. My face reddens a bit as they bun up my hair and repeat the hair removal process on other parts of my body until the only hair left on me is the hair on my head and my eyebrows, yet the woman goes on to remove more hair from my eyebrows with a small metal tool called tweezers. Then I'm dunked into a clear liquid that's supposed to remove my scars and blemishes, I don't have many other than a few burn scars on my hand from getting a bit to close to the oven. The liquid feels slimy against my skin and leaves a sore feeling after it's rinsed off, leaving my skin smooth and silky. Once they're done, I sit up and the man places a robe on my shoulders which I gratefully put on. They go on to clean and trim my nails and wash my hair and body.
Once I'm dried off they send me upstairs to meet my stylist, I retrieve my locket and charm bracelet before I head up. An avox at the top of the stairs directs me to a room with just a large round table surrounded by chairs, she motions for me to sit and leaves. I do as told and sit in a red chair by the table, picking at a loose thread hanging off the black number twelve stitched into the left side of my robe, right over my heart.
"Hello." A voice says making me jump, startled."I didn't mean to scare you." A chuckle."I'm Walter, your stylist." A man dyed a light blue stands in the doorway, piercings all up both his ears, yet he's got nothing on the woman who "remade" me downstairs.
"Allison." I say holding a hand out which he shakes before taking a seat across from me.
"Let's talk about your outfit for the opening ceremony." He says with a smile. Though his piercings are a bit intimidating combined with the blue skin, he seems genuinely friendly. "What have the district twelve tributes worn these past years?" I think for a bit and faintly recall seeing flickering flames emit from district twelve's tributes. I feel the colour drain from my face.
"You're going to set me on fire?" I choke out. A mischievous smile spreads across his face. He doesn't answer my question. I'm about to ask again in case he didn't hear me, but a few avoxes wheel in carts containing lunch and place dishes all over the table. "Thank you." I say as they leave, a few stand at attention around the table. I receive no sign of acknowledgment, except for a small nod from a short brunet server with deep blue eyes that remind me of my own. I turn back to Walter, eyebrows raised.
"Afraid of a little fire?" He asks, taking a roll from the bread basket and biting into it.
"Not like fire can hurt people or anything." I say with a touch of sarcasm.
"The past tributes were fine, they survived the fire and so will you." He smiles reassuringly, as if he's given this pep talk a thousand times, which he probably has.
"I don't have much of a choice here do I?" He shakes his head. I sigh. "Okay then." I ask a server for a large mug of hot chocolate, not interested in any of the food on the table before me. "Thank you." I say as I'm handed a mug filled to the brim. I pull the sleeves of the robe over my hands and happily take sips from my mug. The heat makes me feel safer somehow, even in a place like this, being prepared for my probable death in the arena.
Kevin Thorne
I feel sore once the "remaking" process is over and slouch in my seat, waiting for my stylist, only wearing the robe a strange woman with green hair gave me. I look around, the room I'm in is simple, just a table surrounded by chairs and a few large windows.
Standing up I head over to one of the window, ignoring my exhausted limbs. The window offer an astonishing view of the Capitol and it's not-so astonishing residents. They sit on flourescent benches, chatting with one another, or walk the streets in their odd and questionable clothing. Yet all of them seem to have a certain air of confidence about them. Maybe because their biggest worries are what outfit they're going to wear the next day, instead of how they'll keep themselves and the ones they love safe. They have no worries, up to the point where they can use their time to implant abnormal things into their flesh or spray paint their bodies gold. Because of this, I despise them.
I turn away from the window, a look of disgust taking over my features. They take their safety and happiness for granted, while I'm left here to die, for their entertainment. I clench my fists out of anger at these people, these selfish people who are preparing me for slaughter without thinking twice about it. They just don't know how hard it is. They'll never know how hard it is.
"hello." Says a woman standing in the doorway. Her purple hair pulled back and shaped into a cube on top of her head "I'm your stylist." She seems not to notice my current mood, judging by how cheery she sounds.
I scowl as I say "I'm Kevin." It seems even she hears the nasty edge that has crept into my regularly calm tone as she doesn't offer to shake hands afterward. Yet she still continues to talk in her annoying Capitol accent about how "everyone will just love you!" She probabbly told me her name at some point, but I stopped listening a while ago and stare at the clouds outside the window.
After what seems like an eternity, servers come in with lunch. As platters piled high with food are laid out on the table, I realize how hungry I've been. I dig in to the food after quickly thanking the servers. If there's one thing I don't hate about the Capitol, It's the food.
About halfway through the meal, the purple-haired woman slides an image across the table. The image, or drawing depicts a man seeming to be on fire. I look back at her and raise an eyebrow.
"This will be your outfit for the opening ceremonies." She smiles widely, her bright yellow lips stretched out practically to her ears. God, her excitment for the games is so obnoxious. Then it hits me.
"Nope, nope, nope, nope and nope. You are not going to set me on fire." I say.
"It's not real fire, silly." She says. "It's just an illusion." I'm a little suprised at her choice of words, I didn't expect her to have any knowledge of vocabulary higher than maybe that of a 3rd grader.
"Fine." I scowl at her as I stand up "Now if that's all we needed to talk about, I'll be leaving now." I start to walk to the door, but walk back to grab one of the food platters off the table and leave with it before she can say anything else.
Allison Winters
I sit quietly in my chair as my prep team does my hair and make-up for the opening ceremonies. The man; who I've taken to calling Curly, draws faint outlines of flames up my arms, while the woman, Alayna, dusts a shimmery powder over the flames and my face. I look at myself in the mirror as they work. My lips are a deep shade of red, my facial features exaggerated, making me look more striking than beautiful. For my eyes, they simply do winged eyeliner, making my eyes seem a more intense shade of blue. For my hair they put it into a braided updo before painting my nails black. As they dry, Walter comes wheeling a clothing rack in with him, the garments are all bagged over.
"Hello again Allison." He says with a smile.
"Hi." I say smiling back. He gestures for me to stand up and I do.
"So are you ready to see your outfit for the opening ceremonies?" I nod. He takes the bag off, revealing a shiny black body suit with metallic gold accents.
"It's nice, but I don't really see the fire aspect of it." I say.
"The fire will come when you're ready." He says, pointing at a loose thread "Just pull this and you'll be all set."
Kevin Thorne
I sat on the stairs for the remainder of lunch, until the woman with the green hair from earlier called me back into the room to prepare for the openining ceremonies. I sit in a chair as the people who "remade" me earlier work on me. Once they're done I look at myself in the mirror. My facial features are contorted to the point where I barely recognize myself anymore. They stick me into a black body suit and send me down for the opening ceremonies. I just know I'm going to hate every minute of it.
Author's note: Opening ceremonies will be in the next chapter, sorry it took so long to update