𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐘 & 𝐆𝐎𝐑𝐄. ᵀᴴᴳ[1]

4

CINNA HAD BEEN RIGHT WHEN HE SAID IT WAS A GOOD YEAR FOR THE OUTFITS THAT TWELVE GOT PUT IN. Instead of the usual theme of coal miners, this year Marcel; a middle aged man with tan skin who had chosen to lose his hair and now had a gold tattoo that wrapped around his ear, had really put some thought into what he would be putting Sage in. If Sage were being honest, as the man spoke to him, explaining his outfit while the others got him ready; he couldn't help but think of Marcel as pretentious. At least a bit. Just in the way he spoke, and how he would repeat some things as if Sage wasn't competent enough to understand.

This year, the outfits were a statement to say the least. As Marcel put it, it was a loud statement for a loud looking pair. Apparently, during the reaping, Deedee had won hearts over because she resembled a Capitol girl who had passed away. Apparently she had been of some importance; and Octavia said said that Sage had turned out to be a stand out hit from the reaping among the younger crowd in the Capitol. She sounded like she was complimenting him, but he didn't really take it that way. So what? They would talk about him as that tribute from Twelve next year?

Marcel had been right about the outfit; Sage was just happy he would at least be clothed. It was mainly made up of a black material, it wasn't soft— it was stiff. And his sleeves were short, and where they ended there was a bit of soot-looking makeup. Then on both wrists were probably the loudest bit of the outfit, silver cuffs and a chain that connected the two, but still gave enough room for him to move his arms relatively freely. Marcel said they were meant to connect them to the harsh conditions in the mines— but Sage had a gut feeling it would say something else to the districts. That they were just slaves to the Capitol, like the avoxes on the train, just with their tongues still.

"Now, remember, no smiling, waving...nothing like that." Marcel told him, "You're just here because you have to be. Like you have to work in the mines. You don't want to be here."

"Trust me, that won't be hard to do." Sage welcomed the opportunity to not smile, to not act like he wanted everyone to like him. Because he didn't like any of them— how could he? Sure they might cheer for him now, but they'd cheer when he died too...

"Well, if I do say so myself, I out did myself." Marcel said with heavy sigh as he put an arm around Sage's shoulders as he escorted Sage to the chariots.

The chariot they approached was decorated with black jewels that each much have been worth thousands. Each of them resembled a piece of coal, Sage assumed that was the point. Already beside the chariot was Deedee and Haymitch— Deedee wore a black dress, with identical cuffs on her wrists. Her hair was pulled back into a messy and loose braid, it resembled Katniss' feeble attempts at braiding Prim's hair when their mother was busy. Of course their mother would rush to redo it, and Katniss would act offended— but she had confessed to Sage once that she hated braiding Prim's hair because she would move. So she didn't try very hard.