Clove Kentwell ~ The Victor

~ The Chariots ~

Since we got here, the capitol has been better then anything I've seen or experienced in my life. Marble floors, crystal chandeliers, soft beds... All you can ever ask for. But I don't get time to inspect each room. I'm drawn into the remake center. I'm completely naked. I feel embarassed, but no one is in the room. Generally, I am calm. No confusion. No fear. I am left by myself for about 10 minutes, then a women in about her late 30's enters the room.

 She has a silly short pink and black hair, and a yellow dress. If you look at her from the back, you'd probably guess she was naked. I'm guessing she is my stylist. "Hello!" She squeaks. "I'm district 2's stylist for this year. I am relativly new, having started my styling in the 71st Hunger Games." I grin at her kindly. "Hello, I'm Clove. Well I suppose you know my name already..." I trail off, remembering I'm naked. But my stylist barely even acts like I'm naked. "I'm Calla. My stylist partner is Britta, and she is working with your district partner. But this robe on, I have plans for the chariot parade!" I quickly pull on my robe. I follow her to a couch and a coffee table. Calla pulls out a sketch book and shows me her drawings. "So, I planned to do something like this for your costume. You see, the winged helmet, the gold armour, it represents... um, Hermes, or Zues, can't remember. But a greek god, the one that was the god of... building I think. And what do we do in District 2? We build! I have the costume ready. Why don't you put it on, the tribute parade isn't far away." I obey and pull the gold armour over my head. Then I put the helmet on. "Wait!" She says. I haven't done your hair. I'm kind of annoyed, I just wanted to do the chariots already, to start the games sooner. "Does it really matter? It's just chariots," I say. Calla gasps. 

"This is where the sponserers see you for the first time! There not going to sponser someone with hair in a knotted mess." She point outs. I grumble. "Alright." She does my hair, which takes about half an hour. When it's done, my hair looks in between a braid and a ponytail. I have to admit, waiting did pay off. She ushers me away into the room where the chariots are. When I enter the room, Cato is already there. He wears something similar to me, but he has kind of a headband with wings that isn't covering his head, unlike mine.

 Our horses are both dark brown. I pat one of the forehead and Cato laughs. "I'm ready to get all the sponserers after me!" He says. He flexes and shows off his arms.  Then he grins. I nudge his shoulder. "Us, selfish idiot!" I say jockingly. "Yeah, Whatever, us!" He says back. Cato is much bigger then me, several feet taller than me. I literally have to tilt my head up to look at him. "You know, you'll actually won't get sponserers by being that arrogent," I say logically. Cato nods. "I know, there's nothing wrong with fooling around, Clove." Cato gets me a little worked up. "If you always do that, there is something wrong. Not wrong with fooling around, something wrong with you. What kind of idiot goofs off at a chance that they could die?" I say. Cato snorts, but doesn't respond. We climb onto the chariot, Me on the right. Calla and Britta are standing and making a few last adjustments, straightning my helmet and telling Cato to stand taller. I see no need, he already clears 6 feet. An announcement goes off telling us that the chariots will start in 10 minutes. I'm not nervous, I feel confident that we could we win the crowd. See, Cato, I actually said we, not only myself. There aren't any seats on the chariots, only pole-like things we can hang onto. I have pretty good balance so I don't think I need to grab on to them. That way I could wave to the crowd and be that sweet, kind girl you talk to on a regular day, but then turn and stab backs in the end. Nobody really knows about my knife skills, I've been keeping them to myself. But I plan to show them off during training.

The other careers we will be teaming up with don't seem to bad. By bad, I mean not being able to handle a weapon properly. Or not having good skills at fighting. The district 1 careers are Marvel and Glimmer. I know, their names. You can almost not tell which one is the boy and which is the girl. (Glimmer's the girl, Marvel's the boy.) Marvel is pretty competent with the spear, he could hit a dummy in the heart from meters away, but don't start me on Glimmer. She can barely use a slingshot. Apparently she's really good with the bow. We'll see in training. From district 4, Marina, the girl, is alright with a sword. She seems she's a good planner as well. Breck is probably the typical career, okay with any weapon. I'm fine that he isn't good with any weapon, just okay with all of them, because then I don't have to lend him my knives if thats his only weapon.

The door to the runway opens. I can tell we will be riding out to the crowd any minute. Me and Cato stand tall. Our chariot starts slowly moving toward the entrance. Glimmer and Marvel are in front of us, because the chariots are lined in order. For about 30 seconds it is pitch black while moving, but then the horses start galloping at high speed. We are zooming down the path, and we see and hear the crowd cheering at pointing at us. But of course not only at us, at other tributes. I wave and smile my sweetest grin I can muster.  When I glimpse back, a see a small amount of other tributes costtumes such as blue and pink shirts, moon hats, and cow boy hats. But... What in the world is that? That's a.. fire? What is a fire doing here? The crowd doesn't seem scared at all, they just scream in admiration. I finally find out that the fire is coming from the district 12 chariot.  And I hate to tell myself this but... it looks really amazing. But that's not the worst part. If it looks literally amazing, that means it looks better then our chariots. We aren't the ones getting all the sponserers, they are. The worst, least desierable district. How?

 I see the scowl on Cato's face and I know he is thinking the same thing. We don't try to win the attention. We just continue riding down the runway. Our chariot does a circle. I'm still watching them. The fire goes out at the end. That's when I finally get a good glance at them. The girl has black hair set in a braid with olive skin and grey eyes. The boy has blond wavy hair and blue eyes. Now I'm feeling really bitter. I glare at them. I see a lot of other tributes do the same, I guess they now know they haven't even made a good first appearance before their death. President Snow gives a really boring speech, then we are taken into another room. We step off our chariots. Our stylists say we did wonderful, but I can tell they know district 12 has owned the stage. When I look at Cato, I see him staring malicously at the district 12 tributes. They look back. I turn my gaze, not wanting to even think about them. They just outshone us this time. But it doesn't matter, I'll probably kill them both.