Family Ties: The 35th Games

Just as we promised our mentors, Nathan and I are up at eight o'clock. Palana informs us that we can serve ourselves from the buffet set up in the dining car, and so I help myself to some waffles and a tiny bit of fruit. Nathan must be hungry; there's a verifiable mountain of food on this plate. We both sit cross-legged in the sitting room and dig in-- neither of us find the dining car very welcoming, and though it feels weird and wrong to be eating on a couch (meal times happened at the dining table surrounded by family, in our case), it's at least comfortable.

I finish eating before Nathan does, but considering the difference in portion size, that is to be expected. At some point, Olivia comes in, chatting idly with us while she eats too. When all three of us are done eating, Nathan takes our dishes over to one of the attendants, and settles back beside me on the couch right as Sean makes his appearance. Olivia tells him he must eat while we chat, in fear of letting more precious time go to waste.

"So, Sean and I talked a bit last night," Olivia began. "Chatted over some concepts, and strategies, and--"

Sean interrupts her impatiently, in between bites of sausage. "How willing would the pair of you be to makin' alliances with other tributes?"

To that, I'm not sure what to say. The whole concept of being a tribute is still sinking in, and the logistics of it all are lost on me. Mama would never really let me watch much of the Games, nor would I have wanted to. But it meant I was going in somewhat blind.

I'm lucky to have Nathan with me, because he takes over speaking for the both of us, "Depends on who it is, I guess. Would be smart to have allies, at least at the start, but I'm not allying with Careers. Or the volunteer-- the one from Six. Dude from Seven is a solid no as well."

Olivia nods, "Not who we were thinking, either. I'm glad you're open to it though."

"Workin' on those alliances is somethin' you two need to figure out during training, then," Sean instructs us, polishing off another sausage and chasing it with his coffee. "During your lunches, don't be afraid to socialize with the others. If you've seen any of the previous Games, tributes with allies go farther. Tons of factors to consider, naturally, like the intentions going in or the relative strength of those in the alliances, but it'll get you in the top ten."

"Try tributes from Eight, Ten and Eleven," Olivia suggests thoughtfully. "They're usually more open to working with other tributes, and not too bad on the survival side of things either."

Nathan nods, repeating Olivia's suggestions. "Got it; Eight, Ten and Eleven. Anything else?"

Olivia pauses, glancing out the window. "We'll be at the Capitol in about an hour; why don't you two get dressed?" she suggests.

"That's really all we're going over?" Nathan asks

"Not much more we can dig into now," Sean grunts. "Olivia and I have more work to do behind the scenes. Besides, ya can't pull up to the Capitol in your pajamas. Palana'll have a damn cow." 

For the first time since the Reaping, I crack a small smile.

I change into comfortable cargo pants and a black long-sleeved shirt. They don't fit me very well, a little loose in weird places, but it's the best I've got, and I've made do with worse. When I meet Nathan back in our shared room, he helps me put my token back on, and slips his back on his wrist too, before we head back to the car the sitting room is in together. Though Palana isn't our favorite person, either of us, we spend the next several minutes asking her questions about the Capitol, until the train enters a tunnel, and I know in my gut that we're finally here.

I dash to the window, Nathan not far behind me, and we both stare at the city in front of us. I don't know what I was imagining it would be like, but even in my wildest dreams I would have never been able to conceptualize something like this. The buildings were huge, the architecture extravagant and elaborate. There was so much glass, and every square inch of the city looked like it cost more than our entire house back home. It sank in just how far away from home I was in that moment, my heart beating a tattoo into my chest. Nathan reaches for my hand, and I take it gratefully, watching all the eager Capitol citizens cheering as we pull into the station, like we were celebrities or royalty. They were looking at me. Cheering this way for me.

Awestruck, I wave slightly, and those watching me scream wildly. Nathan laughs.

"Unbelievable, aren't they?" Olivia asks, giving her head a small shake. "Nothing better to do than stand here all day." She looks like she wants to say more, but before she can, the train stops, and Palana ushers us all to the door.

Before we leave, Sean calls, "You're headed off to meet your stylists. I'll be honest with you, it'll probably suck, but there's nothing you can do about that. Just have to grin and bear it. Do what they say, and it'll be done soon enough."

I nod, trying to show him I understand and that I'll behave, and Palana escorts Nathan and me to the Remake Centre. We walk into the building, and down a long corridor with doors on either side of us. Each door has a number, probably to indicate which district's tributes the room belongs to. Palana keeps walking until we stop in front of the doors marked with a large, golden '9'. "Nathan to the left, Zania to the right. I'll see you after you're done! Can't wait to see what magic your teams work," she sings, and Nathan nods to me once before disappearing through his door. I take a deep breath, and head through mine.

Three people are waiting for me inside. 

"Oh, Zania!" One squeals. "You're here! I've been dying to meet you since I saw you on TV yesterday! I'm Iza!"

"Mara," a man in the corner says, introducing himself with a confident nod.

"And I'm Hela," says the last. She seems like the most serious of the three-- all business. "We're your prep team. If you're settled, we're here to get you ready for Kera." My stylist, I presume.

The next hour is a blur, and Sean was right-- I didn't enjoy it one bit. I don't fully know all of what they got up to, but when they're through, they've removed all the hair from my body, scrubbed my skin from head to toe, and put twelve different types of lotions and serums into my skin. One of them spent time playing with my nails, and another fiddled with my eyebrows. The whole time all three circled me like I'm their prey, making me feel vulnerable and self-conscious. 

An agonizing amount of time later, Hela announces, "She's ready for Kera," and Mara leaves to go fetch the stylist. Hela and Iza retreat too, leaving me alone in the room.

When I see Kera for the first time, my first impression is that she looks just as silly as every other Capitol citizen I've seen. Her eyebrows are weird and her face looks uncanny-- whether that's from, body modifications or strange makeup, I can't really say. She wears nothing but a silver body suit that doesn't leave enough to the imagination, and I can't help but wonder how uncomfortable it must be to walk in.

She circles me just as the prep team had, and then, in a voice much deeper than I was expecting, says, "Put your robe back on. Lunch is here." I hastily obey, holding onto the robe like a lifeline as I got to sit with her on a couch in the middle of the room. The food pales in comparison, quantity wise, to what we'd been fed on the train, but it tastes well enough.

"Your brother's stylist and I have big plans. We want to use your costumes, your entrance, your presentation, to emphasize unity between you both," she tells me. The way she emphasizes certain words makes me scrunch up my nose. I very much take her as someone who thinks very highly of her own artistic vision, no matter how silly it is. 

Silly or not, it takes me a moment to process what she's said, and when I cant, I clarify, "So.... we're going to match?" I ask.

She lets out a tsk. "I don't expect you to understand the vision right away. You district folk don't have much experience with high fashion. Or descriptive language, apparently." I stare at her blankly. I get the feeling she's trying to be insulting, but it's hard to be insulting when you have almost no clue what's going on.

"Moray and I have decided you'll dress as farmers," she says to me simply, standing to go fetch the prep team. I roll my eyes-- I knew we would be farmers. District Nine tributes are dressed as farmers every year. For someone who seemed to think a lot of herself, I felt Kera really needed to be more creative.

Kera gets me to stand up once her prep team scurries back in, and they get to work, helping me into my costume, and doing my hair and make-up. I stand still, patiently letting them work. My eyes stay closed the whole time, and I couldn't even guess what I could possibly look like. But after a while, the hands moving around me in a flurry still, and Kera orders me impatiently, "Open your eyes."

I obey, and Iza leads me to a mirror.

My hair had been woven into two breaids, with huge red gingham bows tied at the bottom of them. I wear a checkered red blouse and a denim skirt. Cowboy boots come up to my knees, and my token has been put back on my head. It all looks fairly bland, if you ask me. Hardly something that'll have me stand out in the parade. The cowboy boots in particularly strike me as stupid, as that'd be far more applicable to a Distict Eleven trainee instead, but I guess, what did the Capitol know about district workwear.

"That circlet of yours," Kera says, "It would not last long in the arena. I processed it through some resins-- things of that sort. It is strong now. It will last."

"Thanks," I mutter.

"Moray and I want to show you are farmers; it's all part of the presentation. In the chariot, your brother will hold a pitchfork, and we've gotten you a spade." I scrunch up my nose again, cringing inwardly at what I think is a stupid idea, but nod regardless. "The parade starts in forty-five minutes. We shall not be late. Come, now."

She leads me into a back room, and I see that it is not a room but a tunnel. At the end of it is a large warehouse-like area, and most of the other tributes seem to already be here, Nathan being one of them. He's standing beside our chariot with his stylist-- the chariot itself is decorated with gold carvings; elaborate sculptural wheat stalks across the whole thing. Our horses are painted golden. I think that's a pretty strange thing to do to a horse.

Nathan also got cowboy boots, but denim overalls instead of my skirt. He didn't get a shirt, though. It was weird, and I wondered to myself if he was cold, but with the way some of the other female tributes were eyeing him, it seemed like whatever his stylist was going for was working. I notice he's also got his token on too, and wonder if Kerany also gave it the same resin treatment mine got.

"Hey Nia," he says with an easy smile when he notices me. I go over and hug him around the middle, still staying tucked near him when we break apart.

After a while, Olivia and Sean approach us, and Sean is the first to speak, "Usually we'd give you some advice here about trying to make this parade memorable. Get you to do something to get the audiences talking. But you two are already a hot topic here; everyone's been talking about the siblings who got Reaped in the same games. First time that's happened, so it's hot news." He grimaces, and I appreciate that. It's nice having Olivia and Sean around-- they react to all of these things like normal people. The way Capitol citizens react to stuff puzzles me, and the past 24 hours had made me feel a touch insane. Sean continues, "No big spectacles needed. Instead, stay close. Try to look confident, like a united front. We want the sponsors to see right off the bat that you two are a team. That they are investing in two for the price of one, and that you're ready for anything."

I try to take that in and process it. I'm not really sure how to convey any of that by just standing in a chariot. But before I have too much time to think about it, Palana shrieks, breaking me out of my thoughts, "It's time to go! Quick, quick! In the chariot!"

Nathan hops up onto the chariot, but I'm much smaller and have a rough time trying to get up, so Sean comes over and lifts me to Nate, who pulls me up the rest of the way. Moray passes us up the stupid props, and we adjust accordingly. Once we are both positioned, Nathan puts his arm around my shoulders and anchors me to him, and to the chariot by proxy. I swallow hard, trying to hide away my fear, or at least keep it from showing on my face as Nathan whispers, "Get ready." And with that quiet warning, our chariot is pulled into line, behind the chariot from District Eight, and one by one the procession enters the arena.