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May The Odds Be Ever In Your Favor	By : CJ_Wallace Category: G through L > The Hunger Games Trilogy Views: 12260 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games Trilogy and make no money off the posting of this story.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
Chapter Six
Our apartment was impressive and I had to work hard to not notice it was three times the size of the home I'd been living in since I was twelve! My "room" was the size of a medium sized house's base level, but filled with so many automatics and buttons to do everything for the tributes, it's like living in a whole house in one room.
It's too big for me. I can't stand all the machines, they're overwhelming. I carefully sit in a chair and gaze about the room. Finally alone, I don't even see the things I'm looking at, I simply lay back and enjoy the silence. I see a mirror and gaze at it, my reflection perfectly caught, showing the vulnerability I felt.
I was sitting in the plush chair, legs crossed and red ribbons streaming, skirt hitched up a little higher than I was used to and splayed out across the floor. It was a little dusty, but altogether not too damaged. I felt I could at least wear it to dinner, it being the most expensive thing I had ever worn. The bodice forced me to lay back to breathe, and my hair just spilled down my shoulders and across my lap. I looked like a bloody rose, just the illusion Sug wanted. The only thing I wanted to go was the make-up. After our ordeal, I just wanted to see my face again.
I sweep the skirt aside and push myself up onto my heeled feet. My feet throbbed, but I found them not too unbearable to walk. They were nice boots, I was just opposed to shoes of all sorts most of the time. I practiced a confident strut as I made my way to the hole in the wall that served as a sink. "Remove makeup, "I said softly, sticking my face into the sink. It wasn't unlike the sinks that Chiara's family was able to afford, and a fairly simple concept. I held still as the powder and lotion and make-up was whisked away by mini scrubs and wipes. It was actually rather pleasant and refreshing.
I was sitting in the chair again, replaying the moments Jet and I spent in that cart when Aollie came to get me. I would see it again on television after dinner, as well as the other tributes. For the first time I noticed more of the feast spread out before me. I hadn't looked farther than my plate for the last two meals, but tonight Sug and Silvya joined us and I made sure to thank them for their hard work.
"You two looked so beautiful together, the most radiant faces... I had wished you had kept your make-up Chise... you looked so beautiful!" Jet's stylist said, his silver eyes gleaming wickedly.
It was obvious that he felt slighted, but over what I couldn't guess. I responded with a glance at the male tribute sitting across from me. He looked as if he had walked from the elevator to dinner, which he probably had. He looked miserable, so I left him alone.
"Well, I just wanted to see the girl I knew for one more night before I never see her again. I think I'm finally getting the hang of this, and... well, let's just say Nara Chise doesn't exist anymore." I grinned and helped myself to the creamy blue rice dish in front of me.
The first taste was sweet but oddly tart, but my eyes widened and I ate like I had never seen food before. I had a thick stew, a fillet of fish with a strange purple sauce, a thick slab of ham and three legs of chicken which I ripped apart with my fingers to Aollie and Sug's dismay, dipping it in the sauce of the pasta. It wasn't long before I was fighting with my mouth to keep chewing although I was grinning and laughing at them all. I just wanted Jet to look up, to give me a smile, but he never lifted his eyes from his plate.
He was lost in his brooding and had to be asked twice by Silvya if he wanted wine, which he waved on. I took a glass and raised it to the shy boy who offered it to me without a word. I sipped it slowly and watched Jet critically. I wondered what was going through his mind, and what he would say when our little ride was on the screen for the rest to see.
It wasn't until I was eating a small bowl of iced cream that I finally caught him watching me. His eyes watched the spoon for a moment, then went to my eyes. I expected him to look away once caught, but he held my gaze evenly. I set my spoon down and smile kindly. "I think they're going to be captivated with our presentation. It made quite an impression on the other tributes as well. I don't think District Two likes us very much."
He didn't answer, he just blinked and shook his head, returning to his thoughts. He snapped into motion when we were told we were moving to the sitting room, and he made sure to be in the room before I had risen from my seat.
Either he was really excited to see the show, or he really wanted to get away from me. I didn't care which, I had to focus on Sug and his ego. If he was disappointed, he'd let me know and I'd be left to defend myself.
When the program finally started with showing us, I was even more impressed than I was riding through it. I looked stunning some moments, quickly switching to annoyed and angry, then melting back to soft and demure. It was perfect, even though it had been done with no intention. I loved the exchange shared between me and Cairn, which was kept as they entered.
The announcers laughed and commented on me pointing proudly out to her the shower of sapphire roses as I turn back to the crowd and spread my skirt, curtsying to the crowd before it flashed to Cairn's hard glare, eyes fixed on me. I could tell she was wishing I would drop dead right there in that chariot.
"Spectacular show from District One this year. The female is very beautiful and she knows how to stir up the crowd and the tributes! The male, though, he seems very possessive of her. I wonder if it's just an act or if he truly cares for her! She certainly seems to be spurring him on with those- did she just bite his ear? Oh my, well there certainly is something between them!
I laughed, drawing the attention to myself. "If only they saw the cat-and-dog fights!" I pointed out. Sug frowned, but Silvya and the prep teams smile and start twittering about how sexy we looked, how the makeup accented our features and made us look Capitol born, the usual strange things they think are complements.
Jet rolled his eyes and stared at the television. He's morose and the dark cloud around him had returned.
The cameras flash to District Three's chariot and I shake my head. At first, I'm confused which is the girl, as the boy's hair is just as long, and just as twisted up in wires of different colors. When it flashed to the front, the girl was easy to spot at once. She was taller than the boy, and her hair was the prettiest chestnut, and made to look exotic next to the green wires that weave throughout small braids and corkscrew curls. She's slim and lanky, all arm, which is noticeable next to her green dress that falls to her feet. It too is covered in wires, only blue, and it looks like a circuit board. The boy stands to her shoulder and his head is adorned with a twisted crown of black wire. He's wearing what appears to be a black skirt, done in red wiring.
I expect to see the thick-lipped District Four girl, Aime, in her sequined dress, but the camera was drawn to our chariot where Jet was pulling me in front of him. My face went red, remembering how this had ended. However, as I watched, it just seemed part of the show. I wondered what District One would think.
I was never very popular, but I had a very small circle of friends that believed as I did, that anything more than personal training for the Games was unfair. Our time spent out of work was wasted on doing leisurely things. Book clubs, drawing, lounging in the park, and talking of our hopes and dreams. They wouldn't believe this Chise, it was unlike me. Chiara wouldn't buy it for a second, I hoped. But the tribute-hopefuls watching, envious at my position, probably seething because Jet wasn't holding them so close. They would be buying this and calling me a whore in an instant.
I looked to Jet, wondering what he was thinking. He was staring intently as the image of him holding me, face buried in my bloody hair. As I watched from the crowd's perspective, I saw the look on his face, commanding and wicked, vanish. It was replaced with a look of peace and enchantment, then a hint longing. I'm floored, glad I was sitting as I gazed at his expressions shift during the scene.
It had felt so wrong, being the prop of a nasty joke. Watching what I had been unable to see, it was as if he couldn't help himself, he had been overcome with desire. Unconsciously, I reached up and touched my throat, feeling only the cold jade collar that was left. He hadn't hurt me, the whole time he had used our costumes to weave a story. The story of a man overcome by a goddess of flowers or something, my father would say. I had worse fairy tales from my mother who had heard them from her father and as far back as the Ancient days, but I remembered everyone watching that ride.
The words he had whispered had been lost in my hair, but the desire is blatant. When I lash out, I smirk to myself, but that is quickly wiped away when I see the flash of pain he expressed before he angrily shoves me aside and laughs haughtily. "Oh..." I sigh. I looked to Jet, feeling his eyes on me. Sure enough, he's staring silently across the room, a pleasant smile on his face. "You are good," I say.
The clip had lasted no more than a moment, though it had lasted much longer in my memory. Watching it from his perspective made it last far too long. He had turned the Capitol's memory of me to his advantage. If I had sponsors from the awe of Sug's dress, Jet had taken them by deflowering me in front of the world and making it look so glamorous. Jet's costume had been far outshined by mine, so he did what he had to do to get attention. It crossed my mind that perhaps that's why Silvya had felt snubbed. Glancing over at him, I saw the raised nose and the squint of pride that confirmed my notion.
Jet had played my game perfectly. If things aren't going your way, force them to go your way.
"Well that takes care of any questions we had earlier. That boy certainly has made a claim on that delicate flower! Oh and she's feisty! Look at that! Oh, now look, she's hurt his feelings!"
The laughter carried over the shocked faces of District Four that had their time cut in half by that act. The boy with the thick longish copper hair was laughing, pointing ahead to the short black haired girl beside him. She was scowling and rolling her eyes, quickly trying to attract as much attention that she could with the gorgeous scaled dress that accented her curves perfectly. I had to say, if it weren't for her large lipped smile, she'd almost pass for desirable. I wondered if she was the prettiest girl in her village, where I was just a face in the crowd in my city. I admired the metallic paint job on the boy however, and I made a point to say as much. "I mean, it's not sequins, but the light does sort of make him look like a ray..."
Jet looked at me blankly. "A ray?"
I flushed, but composed myself gracefully. "Yeah, they're sea creatures. They taste absolutely delicious too. I figured they painted him up like that to be like... a representation of his District. They’re fish."
Jet looked impressed. "I've heard of the usual types of fish, but I've never eaten exotic food."
"You simply must," I insist seriously. "They're the tastiest if prepared right. I've had it before when I had some imported. Blowfish too... dangerous, but delicious."
"Dangerous?"
I shushed him as District Five came on clad in nothing but a string of bright flashing bulbs. The boy tribute pressed himself to the front of the cart to hide his groin, but waved bravely, his square jaw clenched. The girl broke down entirely and hid her face, even though she stood tall, lit-up legs carefully kept close. I had a sudden impression that if she weren't so embarrassed, she'd have been standing proudly, tossing her satiny blonde hair. It was all how she held herself. Firmly, but demurely, arms crossed, a hand tactfully blocked her face, covering one breast with her arm, and her hair swept down the other side of her head to cover the other. There was nothing she could do about the back as she rode down the street and the Capitol got a good laugh at her bare bottom, perfectly lit up for them.
The spectacle put a bad taste in my mouth and I took a sip of wine. The wine swished in my mouth, bittersweet as the moment. I shook my head and looked away until I heard Silvya's gasp of wonder. I had to admit, District Six did look good. All sleek and silver, and flashing. I smirk to myself when I remember the girl's last name is Flash. I wondered how livid Flash was at home, seeing her name on another girl, and my face smiling back at her, while she sits at home, one year too late.
The girl has dark hair, but it's too grey to call black, with no luster to it at all. Her eyes are just as dark, and she looks withdrawn and stands unmoving the whole time. Her partner is a younger boy, even though they are the same height, and he waves a couple of times to the crowd, but he's shy and it's easy to tell he's scared.
District Seven, the girl and boy stood back to back, both dressed in strange outfits. I giggle, though I try not to. "They look like lumberjacks," I think, trying not to make the humor to apparent. The girl's hair is stark white against the dark shirt she wore, and she's got her arms crossed behind her head, seemingly whistling, ignoring the crowd. The boy beside her pushes the specs he's wearing up his nose and says something to the girl, who answers in turn.
I shake my head, watching them. It's like they understand what's going on around them, but they weren't paying attention. They were pointedly ignoring everything around them. The only people who mattered were them and them alone. Disconnected...
The slim girl from District Eight was dressed in a cute grey wool dress. The sleeves are long, but thin, and it looks comfortably warm. It falls to her knees and shows off her ugly shoes. She seems calm though and smiles for the crowd. The boy beside her is just as calm, although he seems to be thinking about something seems to cross his mind every so often. He's bare-chested, and he is wearing a knee length skirt! An actual skirt, not like Jet’s or the boy from District 3. It's the weirdest grey brown color I've ever seen, but appears to be made of wool as well. I was guessing he wasn't wearing anything but that skirt.
It wasn't long through District Nine's that I began to feel ill at ease. The girl, Poppy, was dressed in a golden backless gown that fell sleeveless from her throat to the floor of the moving cart and showed off her tanned skin. When the breeze caught it, I could see it flutter and I wondered how the stylist had done it. It looked like a wave across a field of tall grass. Their District is Grain, I remember.
The boy beside her looks relaxed and pleasant, his auburn hair brushed back and gleaming darkly under a headpiece of woven grains. He's dressed in a thin white shirt tucked into tight brown pants and bloused around the thick black belt at his waist. His pants in turn were tucked into his knee high boots, making him look like some sort of owner of a great plantation. It was the cape of gold that streamed out behind him that made him look so regal. He actually appeared to be a knight or a prince. His confident smile, his demeanor gave the impression he was just off to war, and he'd be back soon to whip his slaves who pick his crops for him. Except he wouldn’t be coming back. Not if I had anything to say about it.
I caught myself chewing on my cheek and glanced to Jet. If Silvya had found pride in his tribute, would Sug be more critical of my actions? I remembered the fire in his eyes when I had lost concentration. I didn't have more time to think because soon the camera was again focused on our chariot where a scuffle had broken out.
They hadn't caught the way I had gotten the chain, but the cameras fixed on us from the front as I twisted the slim chain of silver links and shimmering diamonds over and under his wrists. I had made the captor the captive, and I agreed it looked comical as Jet lifted his arms and gently swung me around him until it broke.
The expression on District Ten's girl, Sierra, who was shown watching on her screen was worth any negative feeling anyone could have had, Sug included. A slight smirk, just for a second, and blank again. She was dressed in a ridiculous farmer's outfit, showing a lot of leg. Coveralls, the poor dear. I felt my heart go out to her as I tried not to focus too much on the scowl on her partner's face. He brooded as he raised his arms for the crowd, showing off his muscles. District was Livestock... it wouldn't surprise me if they put that simple mind to work smashing the heads of cows.
I shudder as if cold and Sug wraps his shimmery robe around me.
"I'll admit, it wasn't made for warmth, but you sure shined baby."
I smiled and hugged him. "It's all thanks to you. Back home, I'm just... plain."
"Foxy, she means," Jet shot over, still grinning. "She doesn't know how many people like her while they pretend to hate her. She's impressive, but mouthy. She's gorgeous, but vicious."
I sigh, admitting the truth to myself for the thousandth time in my life. I never made it a secret that I would do anything I had to, just to get by. "It's a curse."
The screen had returned to the last two districts. Eleven was interesting, and I had to commend the stylists. They were both dressed as trees, which I would have expected for District Seven. They seemed stiff, but the girl waved to the crowd with her brown arms that appeared to have been darkened with paint and decorated with bracelets made of grass. She looked lovely waving so excitedly, and it surprised me that she was just a year older than Chiara.
I was tickled by the girl's gown. I noticed her stiffness was due to countless wires from waist to chest holding brown and green material in various positions, flowing up the dress in strips to resemble leaves. Her hair was covered in soft pink flowers that also dotted through the leaves of her dress, fluttering like the petals on my dress. Her legs were mostly covered by a shredded skirt of brown to resemble bark and roots. I was drawn to it instantly, and I toyed with the skirt of my dress as I examined the boy beside her.
He was dressed similarly, only his pants had wire twisted all the way to his bare feet and his leaves were green, no flowers. Instead, he was covered in palm-sized red berries that looked absolutely delicious, but dangerous. His face was twisted in silent rage, his arms crossed over his small chest as he stood still, refusing to do anything. They wore spiky crowns of stiff grass that clashed with the outfits, and a real shame. If they hadn't been wearing those garish crowns, their outfits would have been a real success.
District Twelve was their usual miner look, and I watched quietly as the camera swept over us for our last close-ups. Jet was looking down at me, his curls and the angle hid his eyes, and the tears that began to roll down my face before he kisses my forehead. I'm horrified, and when I turn to hug him and the crowd ahhs... I'm standing and walking around the couch to get away.
I couldn't take it anymore. I knew what happened, I had been there! They didn't see the expression on his face! They didn't see him resolve to kill me! They all seemed to think we were lovers! The thought disgusted me, and I couldn't stand the sight of everyone congratulating Jet and I on a job well done, the act was really beautiful...
It wasn't. It was sick.
I hid in a corner and held myself. It was the only amount of comfort I allowed before starting my calculations again. I managed to steel myself before Sug came to tell me I could return to my quarters if I wished. I assured him I did, and I would get his masterpiece back to him. As long as he walked away smiling, which he had, I was safe from his wrath. That was simple. With Sid, there was a challenge. He stopped me as I walked across the room, stepping in front of my path.
"You two need to get your tension under control. I thought I told you to practice patience!"
My jaw dropped and I took a step to the side, slipping around him as he reached to catch my arm, my hands focused on my skirt. I was glad for the boots at that moment, providing the perfect amount of slide and drag to pull it off without getting tripped up and falling over. If I ripped my dress, Sug would never forgive me. However the action surprises us both, and it reminds me of the footwork he and Jade had on the train. I knew with a little training, he could teach me how to be that light of foot.
"I dealt with the situation as best I could," I growl, stepping back, eyes warning him. "Jet tried to play a game he couldn't win and realized it halfway through that little ride. Trust me, there will be little interaction between he and I from now on. Until the Arena, Jet!" I called gaily, waving to my rival.
Sid scowled hard at me. "Tomorrow you two will begin training with the rest of the tributes. Try to be ready in the morning, because if you aren't they will be watching for any sign of weakness. This drastic turn in attitude is vexing, but preferably for the best. You really are a poor team."
"I'm ready now, except I'm tired Master Obsidian," I insist, using his name to show my seriousness. "I'm not just a pretty skirt, you know... I'll see you in the morning." I bowed to him shortly and left without another word.
I undressed carefully after wrestling with the knot that held my bodice on behind my back. After it was off, it fell from my skin leaving me standing in nothing but my jewels, sleeves and boots. I step out of the dress and pick it up, laying it out on my bed. The sleeves brush against my naked skin and it feels so... soft. I take them off, despite how much I want to wrap myself in them and sleep. I undo and tug off the boots, the tiara quickly joining the arm cuffs. I wished it would all disappear and I'd never see it again. Beautiful as it was, it looked like a burial shroud, a dress for the part of me that had died. I took the necklace off last, having always wondered how rich people felt standing in nothing but jewels. I stood next to the window and gazed out at the bright buildings. I felt nothing.
In disappointment and frustration, I removed the necklace and throw it to top the pile of things that were no longer mine. Stalking to the shower, I find there's a glass door that separates it from the rest of the room, and stepping in I stare at the wall of buttons in dismay, contemplate not showering, then try and find the simplest options. Warm shower, rose shampoo and conditioner, lime body wash, scrub, rinse and after the cleaning ends, I stand under the water for several minutes just enjoying the warmth.
When I step out and am greeted by a blast of hot air from the mat beneath me. My body dries quickly, and even though I know there's a machine that would deal with my hair for me, I spend the time it takes to untangle my hair and braid it most of the way down before securing it with an elastic band.
It's then I realize that my dress and everything I had worn tonight was gone from my bed. I was happy to be rid of it, but I wondered who came in my room while I was showering. I figured it had to have been a servant, or even Sug, and pulled back the covers. I didn't look for any clothes, I was too tired. I just bundled under the soft sheets and warm blankets.
I thought I'd fall asleep right off, but for several minutes all I could see was Jet's face in the City Circle as he shed those tears, the tears the Capitol made to look like mine. There would be no more kindness between us. There would be no more hugs, or kisses, or jokes or smiles... and definitely no more tears. Now was the time to become the warrior, now the games really began.
The part that hurt the worst, as I lay there silently crying and begging for sleep, was how badly I just wanted to be held.
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May The Odds Be Ever In Your Favor