Author's Note
I do not own the Hunger Games.
Calpurnia Catallus, 16
"Please prepare to be moved to parade preparation," announced the escort, startling those still gathered in the spacious train compartment.
"Prepare for what?" Calpurnia asked, glancing at Sorcha, and then she and the train interior blurred in front of her eyes. For a moment she was colder than cold, stealing her breath away, and then the world rematerialised into more of a changing room, with a large holodesk in front of her. A woman with long pink hair stood on the other side, a bland smile on her face.
"Welcome to parade preparation! Here, you can ready yourself for the player parade that will show you to the audience!" She indicated the surface of the table. "Please select your chariot outfit."
Calpurnia stepped forward and studied the images on the screen. DISTRICT EIGHT was printed in pink block letters at the top of the screen. Beneath it were six outfits. Most of them sucked. Ugh. Eight got some of the worst stuff. Who would willingly go out there dressed as a spool of thread? Or a roll of fabric? Even she couldn't pull that one off. But the teddy bears were cute, she supposed, and the fabric dress was… nice.
Calpurnia hesitated between them. Her hand hovered over the holoimage. The bear was cute, but probably meant for a younger player than her. Someone that wanted to play up that cute image. But she didn't want to show people cute. She was meant to be looking good and showing herself off here. How could she do that while wearing a padded teddy bear costume?
She chose the dress. It was a patchwork thing, floorlength, made of a mismatched jumble of fabrics and patterns, but the bodice was properly shaped and it came in nicely at the hips. It should show her off well enough.
"A lovely choice!" said the woman, presumably intended to be her stylist. "Come right this way, I'll get you changed."
She waved a hand, ushering her towards a fabric screen at the other side of the room. And–
Calpurnia froze.
Wait.
Did she have to undress in here, where anyone watching the livestream could see? She'd never watched many playthroughs, and never had any interest in this part of it. How did this work? She wasn't bodyshy, but stripping naked for an audience probably larger than normal–
The stylist held up her chosen dress and passed it to her. "Please step behind the screen. When you are ready to change, say 'outfit change.'"
Oh. That made much more sense. This thing was, still, just a video game when push came to shove. Of course there'd be mechanics for something like this.
Calpurnia let the dress fold over her arm and followed the stylist's direction to stand behind the fabric divider. It formed a simple half-circle, like a proper tailor's. She raised her hands to grip the shoulders of the dress, admiring the way it draped against her. "Outfit change."
A blink, and her reaping clothing was changed to the chosen fabric dress. It was a little heavier than she expected, but nice enough, giving her a nice shape in the bosom and padding out her rear. She came out from behind the screen, smiling.
"Would you like to see yourself?" asked the stylist.
Calpurnia grinned. "Yes please."
She was led over to where three large mirrors were positioned in a semi-circle, allowing her to admire herself from all angles. She fluffed out the skirt. How many sponsors would something like this win her? A few, surely? It had to be some; she looked good.
"Would you like to choose a hairstyle?" the stylist asked.
Calpurnia ran a hand through her pin-straight platinum hair. That would be another great way to catch attention. "Show me what you've got."
The stylist stepped aside and indicated a salon chair that must have just appeared behind her. "Please sit here and I will show you the options."
Maximillian Marcus Badondé, 18
District Four was still a popular District, despite the fact they hadn't been able to consistently offer two well-trained tributes for years now and had only had two Victors in three decades. If they didn't start to improve soon, the Omega Districts were going to start producing better tributes than them. But they also had some of the most popular Victors, especially from early Hunger Games, so remained hot with the watchers.
As such, the District had some decent costumes. That was fortunate, though Maximillian wished there was something a little more… intimidating. Most of the outfits were water-themed, sea sprites and ocean animals, some striped white and blue monstrosity, a giant fish…
How did Four win any sponsors in the real Games with costumes like these?
Maximillian choose the merman costume, which was the least offensive one appearance-wise. It was that, or a fish, or something with a non-hovering hoverboard.
So the merman it was.
It was meant for pretty boys, not the tougher type like him, but it would do. At least he got a trident, he could work to look intimidating with that. Pity he had no experience with weapons like this, but maybe he could perform a few spins of it. Or just hold it and look scary to the audience.
He chose the most basic hairstyle he could, having glitter combed through his green hair and then slicking it back. Matched the merman theme well enough, and needed less fuss than most.
His stylist then proceeded to pester him about choosing makeup, each time repeating the question in that same peppy robotic tone.
"Would you like to choose a makeup style?" she asked for the third time.
"No!" he snapped, shoving past her.
She trotted along at his side as he strode towards the glowing doorway that had appeared in the room. She hadn't said, but that was probably the way to the next step of this so-called game.
"Are you sure you do not wish to apply makeup?" she asked.
"Yes, I'm sure." He glanced at himself in the mirror as he passed it. The simulator had even copied his piercings into the system, each one shining in the electronic blue light. Those would make him stand out better than any makeup ever could.
"Very well." She indicated the glowing door. "Please come this way. You can wait with the other tributes before the parade."
Finally.
Maximillian stepped through the door - and immediately regretted not staying in the quiet preparation room.
He'd emerged into a wide hall containing twelve large, horse drawn chariots and maybe half the players in the Game. Their chatter echoed through the air. Maximillian ignored it as he strode over to the District Four chariot. A few older players attempted to approach him with smiles and fake words. He ignored them and kept his strides even until he reached the chariot.
A new level of hell.
His three assigned District partners were already there, clustered around the chariot. Two of them, the other boy and the older girl, must have known each other, because they had spent the train ride scene arguing and threatening violence upon each other. This scene was no different: they had now gone right back to fighting. Maximillian groaned and sat on the back lip of the chariot as they continued to hurl insults.
"Can't you save it for the arena?" complained the younger girl, who had disengaged to pet the horses. Finally, some sense.
"No!" shouted the two. Something they agreed on, apparently.
Maximillian sighed and glanced about the other players. Most had fallen into little groups, already forming alliances. Most were not, like his District partners, at war with each other and on the verge of starting to throw punches before the arena.
And of course, he was on the outside of everything.
No one wanted to approach him.
But kids had won without allies before. He had his bow skill to lean back on. That had to be more than some of the players here could say.
Phoenix Sterling, 13
When the scene switched from the stage to the train, Phoenix had assumed it was a glitch. According to her siblings, The Game was fully immersive, and once you entered, you saw nothing of the outside until the game was over. Unless you needed to close your eyes and focus to pull the emergency lever.
"But no one actually ever does that," Radiance had laughed once.
"That's not entirely true," Iridescence had replied, and then the three of them dissolved into arguing while. Phoenix had continued with whatever engineering book she'd been reading that day.
She'd assumed they were right, that that was just the way the Game worked. But when her scene changed, she glimpsed the blue door of her pod, only for a moment, and the wires connecting her helmet. Felt the rough gloves enclosing her hands. An uncomfortable hum boomed behind her eyes, loud enough to make her grit her teeth.
Then she was back again.
She thought maybe it was a glitch, a one-off error in the system. Those things happened sometimes. The signal to something would falter, or two components would freeze for a split second, and then you got moments like that.
But then it happened again, in the switch from the train to selecting her parade outfit. This time she could see through the small window level with her face that there were people outside the pod. Their mouths were moving, and she could hear the hum of their voices, but the insulation of the pod sealed out most of their words.
"-yet," the woman was saying.
"Game," said the man.
"-tributes," said one of them as they passed by and out of sight. And then Phoenix was back in place once more, standing before a holodesk in a glowing white room. Everything rocked and spun around her. She groaned, rubbing her head and pressing her hands to her eyes until she saw stars – and the inside of her pod. It must be intended to happen. How strange. An emergency measure? It would make sense, how could she pull the emergency lever without being able to see or feel the inside of the pod? Her siblings might have mentioned that to her though. Would have been nice to know.
She had to be jolted into moving by the greeting from what must be her stylist, who gestured at the holodesk in front of her. DISTRICT TWELVE was printed across the top of it. The assignment to that District had made her smile. It worked so perfectly for their plan that it felt like fate. Did someone up there know the angle they were playing? How could they? Sterling wasn't an entirely unusual name, there wasn't anything to say they were siblings.
On first glance though, Twelve's parade outfits were…
Limited.
Very limited.
She could be a coal miner.
She could be a shapeless heap of coal.
She could be completely naked (who would choose that?)
Or she could be a strange looking clockwork doll.
For the sake of staying as unnoticed as she could, coal miner it was.