Welcome Tributes!

✎ ♏ac Starberry ✎

Dialogue Stuff
"Mac speaks.."
"Stylist speaks"
"Prep Team speaks"


It was slow in the Capitol. The minute he got there, all he heard was screaming and clapping. All the noises buzzed in his ears now, so it was hard to hear what his stylists said. "Hun.. d'you..." He heard come out of her weird looking main stylist. "What?" Mac said in a loud voice, trying to make sure he could hear himself. It was the Parade tonight, and the teen had to wear something funky. His stylist told him to close his eyes beforehand, so he did. They ripped off clothes, sewed things together, and touched him in every place imaginable. It was uncomfortable, but when he opened his eyes, it was even worse.

Jaw dropped, he listened to his stylist scream. "Hunny, do you like it? It fits your District perfectly!" She exclaimed, looking at the other three people. They all nodded in excitement. It was quite annoying looking at so many weird faces. Unlike home, people in the Capitol wore the color pink. Pink out of all things! There was a mirror being held in front of him. "You have got to be kidding.." He  said in disbelief, seeing apples and pears all over his shirt and pants. They gave him shoes with all different fruits on them. The worst part had to be the hat. A shiny-red apple shaped hat. "If you were a Capitolite, I would just kiss your-" He tuned them out now.

Mac stood up now, walking away from them. "Wait, sweetie!" One exclaimed, rushing over to give final touches to him. He didn't even look at her, or respond. The dumb person only cared about getting money based on his outfit and how much the Capitol liked it. Mac would never have to talk to these people again, not if he didn't want to. He could basically ignore every person in his 'team' besides Kettle. Kettle was the only person that seemed to understand this intellectual.

His stylist and prep team all tried to get him to listen to their game plan, but he ignored it. Nobody could help him now besides himself. The chariot was in front of him now, the two dark grey horses ready to go and run their hearts out with pride. Mac wondered if horses had minds, too. If they had sympathy for the tributes. Because if they did, he'd probably like animals. His District Partner peppily skipped up onto the chariot, spinning around in circles. This little girl must have obviously been crazy or mental, because she didn't seem to know that she was going to die in a week. But who cared, she'd die even if she did. The little girl was too puny to stand a chance at the bloodbath.

The first group was off, both wearing some kind of feathers. Man, that must have been uncomfortable. But if you set aside this, they were the most dangerous people. Then came Districts Two, Three, and Four, mostly intimidating too. Then came a few more Districts, some of the calmer and weaker Districts. One of the boys was dressed up as a lumberjack, which made the tribute laugh a little bit. That guy was kinda adorable. No.. no crushes. Don't set aside Jude just like all the other tributes do. He yelled at himself. One, finding love in the games made you weak. Two, he loved Jude with all his heart, and replacing him because Mac would probably die wouldn't make the matters better. The horses jolted off now, Mac was going up against the world.

The Capitol roared for District Eleven just like they did each other tribute. He was sweating from being covered up with plastic fruits and have long-sleeved shirts on, but he'd have to live with that for a little bit. He'd have to live with the fact that he'd be sweating probably in the arena too. The teenager felt one of the plastic apples, smiling. This should be an easy way to lose off heat. Instead of them throwing flowers, I throw fake food. He thought to himself, twisted the fake apple like he would a real one. Mac launched them out into the crowd gently. Even then they didn't make it too far, but it proved that he could be just as funny and casual as the other tributes. While his partner waved, Mac continued to throw the fake foods out into the crowd. He was being a bit outgoing for once.. on the outside. But deep down in the inside, he was scared..

won't you
stay with me..
'cause you're
all I need

ミTristan Planksミ
outfit

As he stepped off the luxorious train, his ears were deafened with the sound of cheering and clapping of his so called adoring fans. Him, and his partner were quickly escorted to their stylists and prep team for the Chariot Races-- the first event where the capitol saw the tributes as a whole together. But, they wouldn't be seeing any death... Hopefully during the tribute parade. Nobody has fallen off before, or Tristan doesn't hope so. Walking in the building, he saw a man and woman he had guessed as the people who would beautify them to fight to the death. The man that was his stylist walked up and offered his hand over in a friendly gesture as the prep team bounced up behind him. "Ooh! I think we got a good one this year!" One of the prep team members squeeled and making a very odd movement with their hands. Maybe expressing excitement? Tristan hoped so. "I think I can pull something together for him," His stylist said, as the prep team pulled him away.

Tristan was quickly wheeled into the room where they would 'beautify' him, or at least some kind of beauty work on him. They stripped him of his cothes, which made him uncomfortable at first with his body fully exposed to the stylists. One of them saw the discomfort in his eyes, and piped up. "Oh, don't worry. We won't make it completely unbearable to watch yourself become a true beauty for once and not a complete pig.", causing him to have a sigh of annoyance from the tone they were using.

They started the process of stripping his hairs off, and it was bloody painful Tristan hoped they were enjoying the process of watching him clench to the sheet every time they rippedoff his leg hair, making him make a sharp cry of pain. He kept his eyes closed the entire time, hoping to remove some elements of the pain. It probably took hours until they finished the ripping of his hair off. He felt empty, and awkwardly cold. They quickly sent him to his stylist, where he'd get the finishing touches.

After the last hour passed, he was finally able to look in the mirror. Tristan was pleased with the stylists' choice of clothing and how he looked, in all honesty he was praying the stylist wouldn't make him look like a living piece of paper or a tree. His prayers were answered, but, he looked even better then he originally hoped. Hopefully, the capitol agreed with him (and his stylist) . Tristan looked more like a lumberjack, and it kind of reminded him of home in a good way. He smiled in a warm way, that seemed to make him look kind of impressed and satisfied with the outfit and nodded in approval. "Showtime?" The tribute asked his stylist, looking up at the clock located inside the room. With a nod, they were off to the chariots.

It was hot. And, when he says hot-- that was just for those without the layer of clothing he himself had on. The lights shining down on his face made him seem to be sweating from the heat, almost looked as if he was just finishing some kind of a marathon. Tristan fanned himself as he looked around at the other tributes and their costumes. The people from district 1 were in this weird feather get-up, that kind of honestly made them look like a turkey to the tribute. The male from 11 was a fruit. A no joke, actual fruit. The outfit seemed to make him laugh a bit, and saw that the male found his own outfit funny too.

The Chariots started moving on out, and he gripped the side with blood-white knockles as he was scared he'd fall off at first-- but shook the thought off. He smiled with bright white teeth, and started waving to the crowd in a friendly way. Most people saw his outfit normal, but, some were goggling at him. They were glued on him, and didn't understand why. Tristan took his hat, and threw it out to the crowd next to him with a blown kiss towards the audience with that. He was finally in the spotlight for once, and loved it. Every single bit. But, he knew deep down that he can't let that get to himself. For now, though, he'll just enjoy the ride.

District 7 Male
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