After a shamefully long break I'm back, having seen and been re-inspired by "The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes" a few days back.
The makeovers had not been anything like Saoirse had expected.
Nothing much about this experience had, though.
At least she had a pretty dress; a gorgeous shade of blue with spaghetti straps, falling to just below her knees and richly decorated with beads and sparkles. Her shoes matched, and thanks to her elementary beauty classes she was perfectly comfortable walking in heels. Victor almost matched, his short trousers the same colour as her dress and sporting a pair of stout blue childrens' boots that he was ridiculously proud of.
As for everything else, though... There hadn't been enough stylists to go around. No prep teams, each stylist was in charge of at least two districts. Still, when Saoirse had been told who would be her stylist she couldn't help but feel a little excited, even though Mr Bright asked her to please not mention Katniss Everdeen. It was just a pity she couldn't tell Lyssa about it. She knew how jealous her sister would be.
There was little glamorous about the experience though. It was barely any different from a regular beauty salon, just louder and more stressful. As she couldn't see Jupiter or Aspen anywhere, Saoirse assumed there must have been a straight split between the district representatives. It was a pity, because she's gotten used to having Aspen around and it would have been nice to have some more time to chat with Jupiter. Still, at least this was somewhere that felt familiar, and she decided she and Victor had definitely struck lucky. With twelve stations arranged in a circle, she could see all the other tributes being prepared, which in itself was quite exciting because she could see their outfits. Well, almost all. For some reason the boy representing District Six was missing, which was weird.
She could also see the other stylists, too, and that was why Saoirse knew she was lucky. Venia Vanilla had lovely aqua hair, though Saoirse thought the severe bob didn't really suit someone that old. She was kind and quietly spoken though, and when her hands shook while she was painting Saoirse's nails, Saoirse said she could do it herself if that would help. Venia said that was fine, because she had to go and help the District Six boy. Saoirse's eyes widened.
"Why isn't he here with everyone else? Is he ill?"
"Something like that, dear."
Then Victor had got out of his chair and started wandering around the room. Saoirse's nails were too wet for her to do anything but try and call him back and watch in horror as he went and stared openly at the strangest-looking person in the room. This wasn't the elderly Tigris with her catlike face, who was currently brushing the silvery hair of the District One tribute, but the tall, skeletally-thin Count Scarlett. Clad entirely in black, with intricate jewels inlaid in his face and hands, long silver nails and prosthetic horns, he was a horrifying example of body modification taken to extremes. Beside him, Tigris looked positively normal and cuddly. At least she was speaking quietly to her tributes. Count Scarlett, Saoirse recalled, had been rumoured to have fallen out of favour not because of his extreme looks but because of his temper. Just now he was altering a dress for Viola, scolding her for crying, when he noticed Victor watching.
"Get back to your own stylist, you little wretch!" Victor frowned and took an uncertain step backwards, looking over to Saoirse who was already out of her chair, wet nails be damned. She had only taken a couple of steps when Count Scarlett had advanced on Victor and given him a shove hard enough to knock her brother over. Predictably, he started wailing, more from fear than pain.
Thinking back, Saoirse wasn't proud of her reaction, but she hadn't had time to think. She'd stormed over, getting between the towering stylist and Victor.
"You leave my brother alone!"
"Why, you little..." the man had raised an arm, hand ready to strike, but it was caught by Tigris who, despite her advanced age moved much faster than Saoirse would have believed possible. Count Scarlett spun round, looking furious, but Tigris growled "No!" and the man stormed out. The whole thing had happened so quickly that neither of the peacekeepers guarding the door had time to do more than take a couple of paces towards the scene.
"Up you come, lad" said the first, lifting Victor – who had already stopped crying – to his feet. Saoirse had stared from one adult to the other uncertainly, expecting to be in trouble.
There had been – of a sort. The departure of Count Scarlett meant there were now only two stylists between twelve tributes. Saoirse had looked down at her nails and realised that not a single one had smudged, and then back up at Tigris, who nodded in approval and let out an approving murmur.
"Victor, go and sit back down and be good. I need to help Viola" she said after a moment. And thus it was that a tribute had ended up playing stylist for the first time in the history of the games. Saoirse herself had helped Viola and Victor to dress, brushed their hair and painted Viola's nails. Once she wasn't being intimidated by a terrifying adult, Viola had even relaxed enough to help with her own dress alteration, and if it was a little uneven and the stitches somewhat visible, nobody said anything.
Now, the tributes were gathered backstage, waiting for their interviews. Victor was shuffling his feet until Saoirse reminded him he didn't want to get scuffs on his new shoes. An elderly woman was fussing around Aspen, putting the finishing touches to her hair, which was styled with fake butterflies that matched the ones painted up her arms. Saoirse tried hard not to feel jealous. Not only had she styled her own hair, right down to the blue streaks that matched her dress, but she'd practically ended up being a stylist herself.
She zoned out during the first few interviews, only realising they were finished when she was pulled out of her thoughts by the sounds of applause. Saoirse was trying to pretend that this was all fine, that she wasn't nervous at all, but she felt sick and scared. Even though she knew how stupid it was, she almost felt she would rather be in the games than have to sit on stage and be interviewed. She always hated being singled out in that way.
She heard Viola's name called and felt her heart lurch. Why couldn't time slow down a bit? There was only one person in front of her now... she could hear her ally's interview and wished she couldn't. Viola was crying for her Daddy, sniffling out a few sentences about how much she missed him and eventually managing, with much prompting from Ceasar, to say that she liked her dress. partner Lavender Meadows managed a decent interview, but clearly didn't fancy his chances despite having managed to ally with three of the older female tributes. Saoirse couldn't pay attention, though. There was nobody waiting in front of her now.
"Please welcome, respresenting District Five, Saoirse Rudolphine!"
Saoirse froze. A peacekeeper tapped her on the shoulder, but she couldn't make her feet move. Her heart was racing and there was a buzzing in her ears. From somewhere far away she could hear the audience murmurings growing louder, but she still couldn't respond. The longer she stood there the more she could feel herself panicking, and still she couldn't...
"Come on! That's YOU!" A small, familiar hand had grasped her own and was practically dragging her onstage before she could manage to resist. Saoirse blinked in the blinding lights as she realised what had happened. Victor pulled her to the small sofa and clambered up like it was the most natural thing in the world. Saoirse hesitated, then sat down as well.
"Hi! I'm Victor. Saoirse's my big sister but she doesn't like talking to people sometimes..." There was a chorus of 'ahhh's from the audience. Caesar smiled.
"Well, I guess this is a double interview then! Victor, you are the youngest tribute ever, how are you enjoying yourself so far?"
"It's great! We get to play lots of games and meet new people and I got a four for my t'aining score and Saoirse got a five and Look! There's Miss En'baria!" Victor jumped up and pointed gleefully into the audience where the District Two victor dutifully smiled and waved.
"Is she your favourite victor?"
"Yes! She gave me ice cream!" More laughs from the audience.
"So, Saoirse..." she jumped, but listening to Victor prattle happily had calmed her enough that she could process what was happening now "I hear you made quite an impression earlier today?"
Oops.
"Well I...just helped with some of the prep stuff, you know? I did my own nails and hair..."
"You did a bit more than that, I understand. I'd say you have quite a talent there. Do you have any other talents we should know about?"
Don't panic. Deep breath. Remember not to look weak. "You're going to have to wait and find out, Caesar"
"Very wise. And do you have a favourite victor?"
Saoirse looked out into the audience, her heart lurching once again as she spotted Mum and Lyssa in the third row.
"Yes. Cyra Luned from District Five. She was... that is..." Saoirse bit her lip "Mum paid for her every year, so we got to know her pretty well. We called her Aunt Cyra. I think... I think she kind of liked us. Maybe."
Saoirse had never in her life been so relieved to hear the alarm that signalled the end of her – and Victor's – interview. She practically dragged him offstage, scuttling to the row of seats waiting for the tributes who had already completed their interviews and only wondering later if they were still on camera. Victor immediately wanted to talk about their interview and Saoirse shushed him, but it wasn't until the boy representing Six was brought out that they...
Brought out? Riscan Crane was handcuffed between two peacekeepers and clearly furious about the situation. His interview was memorable for the number of curse words that were bleeped out. Saoirse whispered very firmly to Victor that he was not to say any of those words when they were in the games or any other time. He was led offstage by the peacekeepers and didn't sit with the others.
Aspen was next. Unsurprisingly, she gave her interview in both words and signs, something Caesar Flickerman didn't comment on until she stared into the audience and told him "Mum says I need to tell you that you look smart tonight." Then he asked about the sign language, and Elowen was invited to stand and take a bow, probably the first time an Avox had ever been publicly acknowledged in a games. Aspen came over exactly as the sweet person Saoirse had come to know and waved happily when her interview was over, though she seemed unsure of what to do next until Caesar pointed her in the direction of the seats.
"Good evening Caesar."
"Hello Jupiter, welcome to the show"
"I'd love to say I'm happy to be here but... the games, you know? In a normal year I wouldn't even be old enough to be reaped." 'Ahhhs' from the audience.
"Yet despite that I understand you're heading up an alliance"
"I'm not sure I'd say that, Caesar. I've just met some new friends and we're all in this together, you know?"
"Safety in numbers?"
"I hope so. And I hope... I hope my Mum's watching. She's serving her sentence in District Seven now but if she's watching I just want to say... I'll do my best to make you proud of me."
Jupiter got a large and genuine round of applause, and only a couple of half-hearted calls of the familiar 'traitor boy'.
The two representing District 8 were older, stronger and had joined what in a regular year would be known as the career alliance, despite the fact they both seemed nervous and struggled to speak on camera. Abundance, representing District 9, was even worse. Caesar mentioned that she shared the name of a victor, which was clearly the wrong thing to say
"I didn't ask for this! I didn't do anything wrong and neither did my family! I shouldn't have been dragged into this just...just because of my NAME!" she sobbed. It was uncomfortable interview. Caesar practically gave up trying to interview the terrified girl and ended up comforting her instead, with limited success.
Her district partner was a different matter. Richmond Halifax had volunteered, not because he particularly had any liking for the games but because he felt he had the skills to win, and if he could protect at least one person from the games, it was his duty. Hailing from a poor family, he'd been planning to become a peacekeeper prior to the rebellion, which explained his impressive score of a ten. He had unwittingly been training for this for several years.
The District Ten female representative was nothing short of heartbreaking. Cleopatra Flickerman managed to put on a brave face for the first minute or so before bursting into tears and sobbing "I love you, Granddad." Caesar was still visibly struggling when her district partner Wilbraham, the youngest member of what in another year would be called the career alliance, took to the stage.
Thankfully Raven, representing District 11, had been planning a career as a comedian. Caesar gratefully ceded the stage for a three minute stand-up routine, though Raven's choice of language once again had the censoring machine working overtime. Ki'yana, dressed like a young warrior queen, didn't have much to say but was positively garrulous compared to Chenille Whitemark, the girl who had volunteered to take the place of Snow's granddaughter. The girl barely managed more than a yes or no, a clear contrast to Effie Trinket's nephew who commented on everything from his gold nail extensions to the number of lights in the studio. The audience was left confused and relieved when the final district was called.
Laurana was sweet and polite, as was Arctic, but the latter once again insisted he absolutely should not have been there. More than that, he stated he was a pacifist and refused to fight. His fathers, starts of popular Capitol soap opera "The Trials of Dan and Stan", were weeping opening in the audience. For that reason Arctic seemed to be a public favourite.
"Can we go now?" Victor's whisper was loud enough to be heard in the audience. Saoirse blushed, but the cameras had stopped running. Finally she could relax...for a few hours, at least.