Forum Thread

When Haymitch had leaned over Jeremy had nearly gagged at the smell of the alcohol rolling off of the victor of the 50th Hunger Games and the 2nd Quarter Quell.

Akane knew that it was as Aaron had mentioned being unimportant, but she still had to ask. "How did you win exactly?"

---

Aaron sighed. "I knew that you would want to know. They don't talk about the Hunger Games much, do they? After all, District 12 has been affected by it more than most." He crossed his arms. "You may have heard of the Brutish King, the man from District 3 who went berserk on a murdering row and killed every other tribute. Or the Spider Woman, the one from District 7 who climbed through the trees, letting them all kill themselves. But what I did? In my eyes, it is far worse." He hesitated, then said, "I stole important things from tributes. Water, food, a weapon, something precious to them. I hid it, and led them to it, before killing them. Something I will never forgive myself for."

---

Akane shuttered, it was a grim reminder of the harsh reality that the only person in the Games one could only trust was yourself. There was a pause before Akane finally broke it. "I'm sorry you had to go through that." It was clear she was speaking for both of them.

Another long pause before Jeremy broke this one. "So what happens next?"

Akane fiddled with a loose strand of her hair. "We get all dolled up now, right?" Akane itched the back of her neck, unintentionally revealing the angry welt on her cheek, she didn't seem to notice. "For the chariots?"

---

Teri smiles, handing Bree an apple, as well as a plate of assorted foods. He then takes a plate of his own food, before sitting down, cross legged, doing some sums to clear his mind. 2,3,5,7,11,13,17…... 1,4,9,16,25,36,49. He counts out loud, and when he finishes this cycle, he begins speaking again. 52,39,30,20,17,18” So…176?” He speaks all these out loud, before handing Orin a slip of paper, showing him a detailed life like sketch of himself, pointing to his shoes, on it written several highly complicated equations. Teri frowns. “If the pair of you could elevate your feet a little more, and stop clomping like elephants, you can easily master stealth. Even if you’re blind, of course. A blind person’s other senses are highly elevated, so I know Bree has her strengths. She just needs to find them. She is not just a blind girl, Orin. In fact….my mother was deaf, and mute too. Yet she managed to thrive in her environment. So, that’s why, as you may have noticed, she and I never communicate via words, only actions, and sign language. Now, to prepare for the Arena. Our bellies are filled, or we have at least nourished ourselves in some way”

---

"Thanks" Bree mutters under her breath. She takes a bite of her food and fights back the urge to look surprised. The food was surprisingly tasty! She shouldn't be surprised, the people of the Capitol lived in total luxury. Still, the food was something she would have never dreamed of. She eats quietly and listens to Teri count. She quickly loses interest in trying to decipher what the pattern was and what it meant. So she allows it to be calm background noise.

"If the pair of you could elevate your feet a little more, and stop clomping like elephants, you can easily master stealth." The sudden change from counting to conversation causes Bree to snap out of her daze. She doesn't lift her head up, doesn't bother moving a muscle, besides the occasional lift of her hand when she brings food into her mouth. She silently listens to what Teri has to say.

"Thanks for believing in me. But my increased senses don't make me a superhero" Bree points out. She feels around for a table so that she can drop her mostly empty plate on it. She gives up quickly and puts the plate down on the ground so Fallon can eat the scraps. "I've learned to live in this world without sight. But what will eventually go down in the arena is nothing that I've thought of preparing for... It's foolish, but maybe I was too scared to imagine that possibly. I'll take any help I can get if it means that I can live."

She pauses before continuing. "My blindness could be a good tool. I'll be underestimated, perhaps others will take pity on me" she smiles mischievously, "maybe I can take advantage of that. If I could just get into an alliance... Maybe pit a few people against each other, I won't become a target when the alliance eventually tears itself apart." She glances up now towards Orin. "What do you think?"

---

Orin closed his eyes and paused, before reaching for some food of his own. "There have been examples of tributes appearing weak, and using it to their advantage. It is a worthy strategy, but you must remember, you need to create some kind of weapon. If you are to use this as a bluff, you need to follow through on this." He chuckled. "I've never been one for stealth. Just being fast. As for your earlier claims..." He sighed. "I do not think any less of Bree because of her blindness. I am simply stating the cold hard truth of the arena. She is at a disadvantage. It's my job to help her overcome it."

Aaron shook his head. "I paid my price in my innocence, in my skin, and in my dreams. But yes, the next step is to take you to the Capitol, where your stylists will prepare you for the parading in front of the Capitol. It is not a pleasant part of The Hunger Games, though I would say that all of it is unpleasant. It's best not to complain, but shoulder through it."

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"I see" Bree mumbles as she takes in this information. Her plan was good, but Orin was right. She would need more than words and appearances if her plan was going to be successful. Most of all, she would have to do something to make herself strong. Her plan falls apart when the alliance breaks. She'd have to be on her own then. She would need to learn to defend herself and possibly kill. "I understand."

She would have Fallon at least. She wouldn't need to master a weapon, but it certainly wouldn't hurt to be trained with one. With her skills, Fallon, and possibly Teri, there was almost no way they could fail. "What kind of weapon should I go after? A knife would be ideal, it's easy to hide, so I could avoid suspicion. But it's extremely close ranged. Something like an ax or a spear allows me to have more distance for stabbing, but it's harder to hide."

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"As long as we're not naked and covered in coal dust or in anything super revealing I think I'll be okay," Akane admitted, face flustering some.

Jeremy nodded in agreement. "Anything else?"

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Orin took a bite out of the pastry that he was eating, chewing slowly, with his eyes still closed. He opened them again, and said quietly, "Since you are blind, I think it best that we work with short-range weapons. Knives, Daggers. Then we can pair this with your plan to bluff your way out of things. You have a dog, which is good. Since it seems that you and he have a close bond, I'd suggest that you train together in recognizing signals. That way, if someone were to sneak up on you using a long-range weapon, you'd be able to hide or get out of the way. Of course, that plan does have its flaws, but we'll be able to figure them out eventually." He took another bite of his pastry, chewed and swallowed it, and then shifted his eyes to Teri. "As for you...You are correct. While I do prefer to keep eating as I talk, we will move on ahead. We'll be moving on to the second stage of the arena. The parade. This should be the most gruesome part of the arena, but not the worst. You'll be going to a team of stylists, who will prepare you to be presented in front of the Capitol."

Aaron chuckled, "No, the Capitol isn't one to repeat things. They'll figure out something, though I warn you there's a good chance you won't like it. Actually pleasing stylists are few in far between. My own, in fact, was not that pleasant."

"It seems that your skills go in the opposite positions," June mused, pressing the tips of her fingers together. "Alright. Axes, believe it or not, are a viable weapon, but we'll have to train you in different weapons, as we are unsure what kind of arena we'll be facing." She paused. "And I think that you should train together. You and Amber."

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Bree nods her head along with Orin's words, taking in all the information that he was giving. It didn't sound too difficult, until she reminded herself that she didn't have a long time to train. She and Fallon would need to pick up on these new skills, and fast!

Bree groans when Orin mentions the parade. "These are one of the few times where I'm happy to be blind. I don't want to imagine what types of hideous outfit they have planned for us." Bree nearly scoffs at the memory of watching the previous Games with her family. She can remember them laughing at every outfit and describing each one to her. Bree didn't need to have sight and be experienced with fashion to know that they were almost always terrible. "I can hardly contain my excitement" she says while rolling her eyes.

---

Orin shrugged. "That's to be expected." He smirked, twirling the pastry, letting the crumbs fall to the tablecloth, some landing on the table. "I never did like this part of the Hunger Games, but, as I said before, there are worse things about the Hunger Games." He set the pastry down gently onto a plate, and picked up an apple, tossing it up into the air, and then letting smack against his palm as he caught it. "But we still haven't discussed Teri's training properly."

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Akane inwardly cringed. "It couldn't get much worse than being naked in coal dust. . .right?"

Jeremy fidgeted "for them, the sky's the limit and I'm sure they'd have much more humiliating things in mind."

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He nodded, but then raised an eyebrow at the next statement, "Didn't you just say we have different skills? And now you're saying we should train together?" He did wanna get to know her more, and training together would be the perfect way for it, but he still wasn't sure if he did wanna make friends out here. Friends who would either die with him, leave without him, or the worst, die while he leaves.

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She wasn't sure about the other tribute, but that statement was far from the truth with her. It gave her quite a big disadvantage, since she wasn't prepared or trained in the slightest. All she had was her pretty looks, knowledge from previous games, and her small stature. Maybe she would be overestimated in the arena and left alone in fear of being overpowered, or a quick death, fearing if she was alive too long she would do a lot of damage. Either way, she was screwed. She let out a heavy breath and crossed her arms, unsure of what to do. She didn't want to say anything to either Centivere or Print, it might just make this ride even more unbearable. The only thing here that she was interested in was the food. She had seen the expensive decorations a few times before, so the excitement and awe was hardly there. The food on the other hand, looked so appealing. She didn't have the opportunity to eat a buffet, and it was rare to see one this extravagant in her district. Soon the urge was too strong to resist, and she reached out to grab some food. She was starving, she didn't have breakfast or dinner the night before, and her family didn't have the most abundant amount of food around. She took a bite of a roll, startled at how good it was. Misa began to eat the rest of it slowly, bite after bite, until it was gone. She had to be careful about how she acted, everyone was watching and she couldn't show them her flaws that easily.

---

Hours later, the trains arrived in the capitol, chock full of citizens, in their crazy and bizarre mass of colors, different hairstyles, and clothing, like a flock of strange animals. They all crowded close to the trains, excited and shouting, laughing as if players on a team had arrived to play in a game. They seemed wildly oblivious to the solemnity of the tributes, but they were escorted to their stylists without trouble.

The parade was a blur, every tribute striking attention in their outfits. For some reason, President Snow asked that the outfits remain the same, although, the tributes didn't do or say much the first time that they wore them, their opinions and experiences more vocal.

The second half of the preparation had begun.

---

Soon Jeremy and Akane had arived were sent to their own stylist. Once they were cleaned, waxed from any unnecessary body hair, nails being turned into perfect shapes, their stylist went to work. The outfits are chosen carefully to match the tribute's home district. 12, coal mining.

Akane was wearing a simple red dress with a black belt that stopped just past her fingertips. It was simple and unassuming at first glance, but when Akane's stylist (who was fairly kind to her) put a fan in front of her that mocked the wind passing by her the dress ignited into flames, giving the illusion that her dress was of pure fire. To match the dress she was given a pair of sturdy black boots and a small headband to stand out.

Jeremy was given a tuxedo with a similar clothing illusion trick. When they were finished they were met on the ground floor with the other tributes. Both had been warned not to do anything to reveal their clothing trick beforehand, so both did what they could to avoid attention.

---

Bree's expectations for how she would look were far off from reality. Her stylist had picked out a dark dress that was littered with wires. The wires had lights that would glow against the dark carriage. Bree had found the dress to be uncomfortable, but tolerable. She refused to listen to the stylists describe the dress to her, she had wrongfully assumed that it would look horrible on her.

Next was her makeup, her stylist had highlight along her most distinct features so that when the lights were turned on you could still clearly see her face against the dark carriage. Next, they placed glow-in-dark eyeshadow on her eyelids so that the audience would be most drawn to her eyes; as if to really drive in the point that she was blind.

Initially, Bree was supposed to wear high-heels, but after some harsh debate, Bree was instead allowed to wear much more comfortable flats. Next, was her hair. It had been pinned up to be out of her face. But the moment Bree was away from the stylist's she ripped the bobby pins out to let her hair down freely, claiming that they were uncomfortable against her scalp.

Bree sits on the carriage with her arms crossed, an irritated look on her face. She looked horrible and she knew it. D*mn you stylists for tarnishing my beauty! Bree thinks to herself bitterly. Oh well, nothing could be done about it. She couldn't look that bad, at least compared to the rest? Right?

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Misa had seen the ridiculous outfits before, and surprisingly, this part was the one she was most worried about when her name was drawn. She didn't want to look like a fool, and she didn't want attention either. She could only hope her stylist was forgiving, but seeing the previous outfits from her district, she couldn't get her hopes up. Her stylist had finally arrived, a lady by the name of Sandra, and began her work immediately. From first glance, Misa knew she was in trouble. Sandra was in the most ridiculous attire she had ever seen, it almost looked like a Halloween costume. Clearly her dissatisfaction was noticeable, as her stylist gave a big frown as she got close. "What's wrong? You don't want anyone touching you? Well, no matter how many times anyone here thinks that, it doesn't change a thing, sweetie." Sandra's tone was harsh, filled with attitude, and very discomforting. She was right, though. No matter how much anyone struggled, they always found a way to put the tributes in costumes for a silly parade ride.

For a while, her stylist was only observing her face and messing with her hair, occasionally muttering about how she looked like a doll. So that's all she was... A toy for a spoiled child to play with, only to be thrown away once another one came. It was so uncomfortable to have her face touched so carelessly like that, like she wasn't even human. Even so, Misa remained quiet with only a scowl on her face and a few smacks to Sandra's hands, even though it did nothing. After the painful examination and styling, she was shown a mirror, which showed someone who resembled.... Well, she didn't really know. All she knew was that it didn't look like her, but she didn't look horrific either. Her outfit was fairly modest and simple, a braided crown was her hairstyle behind a simple bundle of elegant feathers, almost like the head pieces native americans had, except, they were the color of jewels. She had a dress that went down halfway her calves, the tips giving the illusion of a storm of gold, swirls of dim yellow light flowing down like rain. It wasn't blinding or a classic gold look, it looked more... natural. The shower of gold faded up into a faint white and gold marble pattern, not too bold so she wouldn't stand out more than she did with the tip of her dress. Her dress came up to her collarbone, where it split into four stripes, two on each arm, that looped around her forearm and ended at her elbow. The stripes were thin, but thick enough to be noticeable and weren't as tight on her skin like the rest of her outfit. Her shoes were greek-styled light gray sandles, which somehow fit with the outfit. A gem or two was embedded in the shoes, but that was about it. She had to admit, it wasn't as flashy as she thought a gold-themed outfit would be, nor was it ugly or over the top. It was simple, pretty, and overall something she wouldn't hate wearing. "I figured I could try something different, you're lucky our original plan was scrapped due to your... ahem uncooperative friend..." Well, what could Misa expect, Sandra looked like the unforgiving type, and she was. It was only by sheer luck and the other tribute that she didn't have to be sent to the man-slaughter looking like a joke. Her small sign of a smile faded with a sigh upon hearing those words, and she already wanted to leave.

---

Teri honestly couldn’t care less about the Parade, whatever it was called. He stood absolutely still, as the stylist tried to stuff him into his tuxedo, trying desperately, and failing to properly clothe him. His hands stayed pinned to his side, and he stood with two legs glued together while somehow also keeping his balance. The stylist let out a huff of annoyance and threw the clothes onto a chair, then stalked off, mumbling about how “he wasn’t paid enough for this” Teri grins, before brushing off any dust, and putting the suit on. It was a black jacket, with a black with a white shirt that thankfully wasn’t too tight. He combed back his hair, put on his lucky watch, and joined the others

Faith allowed herself to be ushered into the room, but once the door locked, and it was just her and the stylist given privacy to change, she hissed at the stylist. She simply rolled her eyes at Faith, and tugged her hand harshly. Perhaps that was a little too harsh, as in a blink of an eye, the stylist was kicked across the room. The stylist got up furiously, sitting Faith down, and slapping her across the cheek. Faith pretended to cry and feigned hurt, so that when the stupid stylist got close enough, she bit her. “ Je peux mettre mes vêtements tout seul, merci beaucoup, Samunsech” The stylist was thankfully, someone who could speak a little French, and understood most of what she was saying. She assumed the last phrase was something rude, but decided to let it slide, placing Faith’s clothes in front of her and sitting down, rubbing her forehead. Faith came out, beautifully dressed in a blue bow in her hair, a dark blue gradient dress and a staff in her hand, her hair nearly curled at the fringe.

---

Mehul complied to his stylists' instructions as quietly as he could, despite hating doing so. He knows, that if he doesn't anger his stylist, she could do wonders for him later. His stylist, a middle-aged woman with a few modifications for the Capitol crowd, was very warm to him. She let her co-workers work on his scars and "impurities in his skin", but did nothing more than necessary. When they are done with it, she informs him his costume for the parade, a classic stereotypic lumberjack outifit-red and black checkered t-shirt, denims and a dummy axe. It had been done before, nothing new, but it was at least better than being a tree as both the district 7 tributes had been the previous year.

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