Contest: Hunger Games Competition #2

Host: CraZCanuck

My designer was different, I liked that about him. He wasn't flashy and boisterous, he didn't wear crazy amounts of facial make-up or adorn his head in wigs. He did, however, dress in vibrant colors. But it didn't make him look silly. Morgan was more classy than flashy, it was a refreshing change from the majority of the Capitol citizens who looked utterly idiotic by their own choosing on a daily basis.

"Nyxi," Morgan says, waving one hand in front of my face. I blink, my gaze settling on the tall, pale skinned man before me. "I'm finished. Take a look." He smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes.

I turn around slowly, trying to keep myself upright in the brown, strappy heels clinging to my feet. When my eyes make contact with the mirror, I don't fully understand what I'm seeing. It would make sense if the reflection looked a little bit like me, but the girl with whom I make eye contact resembles me in absolutely no way. Well, almost, the obviously unstable way she stumbles about on the little heels makes it quite clear that she and I are indeed the same person.

I was a fan of Morgan's clothing, but I was an even bigger fan of his taste in my clothing. I wasn't wearing a costume, like most of the tributes before me did, and it didn't look cheap, like he'd carelessly thrown a bundle of fabric together and put a few stitches in it. The only word I could think of to accurately describe the layering of fabric now circulating my body was graceful.

The dress itself was a light green that complimented my dark skin tone, it was flattering rather than insulting. The sides were ruched and silver branches adorned the bodice in intricate designs. The sweetheart neckline allowed for the branches to climb up my left shoulder and continue down my arm to my wrist, where a silver leafed bangle glimmered brilliantly against my brown skin. I particularly enjoyed the soft, comfortable material Morgan had chosen to use. It wasn't scratchy and course but rather silky smooth and flowed gently down my body, pooling at my feet.

To accompany such a beautiful dress was a light powdering of silver sparkles along my cheek bones and green eye shadow around my eyes. Black eyeliner brought out the green in my eyes.

My black curls had been manipulated through a series of bobby pins and hair clips so that they only fell against the right side of my neck in a beautifully chaotic mess. The whole ensemble made me look older than sixteen and stronger than I felt. It resembled that of a girl who'd somehow scored eleven in her private training.

"Wow, Morgan..." I catch sight of my designer's face in the mirror, watching as a smile lights up his features.

"I know. Come on, the parade should start soon." He gestures me after him as he walks out of the building and out into a circular patch of rocky ground with tall walls surrounding it. A series of twelve chariots were lined up behind two grandeur gates. The crowd was already screaming, I could hear them even from back here, and the sound made my stomach twist.

"You look great." I startle, my eyes drifting away from the scene around me to focus on the person standing before me. He wore a green shirt with silver branches adorning the left side of his neck and part of his shirt. The ensemble was matched with brown pants. His eyes were outlined in eyeliner and his cheeks sparkled like mine.

"Dimitri, hi, you look good too." I respond to my district partner as he steps up onto the chariot, grasping ahold of the railing to his left.

"I know." Comes his cheeky reply, my attempt at not rolling my eyes fails epically. I walk around the chariot, avoiding the boy upon it, to admire the beautiful black horses that will parade me before the people of the Capitol.

They were simple, yet stunning, animals. Their black manes had been brushed to perfection and the bridles were silver and black to match the chariot. I could see the outlining of all their muscles in their backs and down their legs with precision. I run my hand along the back of the horse, mesmerized by the beauty of the large creatures.

"Hey, get on the chariot!" I jump, whirling around at the sound of the intrusive voice. Zoltan stands beside the chariot, his steely eyes drilling holes into me with their terrifying intensity. I nod and scurry back behind the chariot, bunching my dress in my hands and trying to push myself up by myself. But it's hard to climb in heels and a dress, especially if I've never worn one as luxurious and fitted like this. It was hard enough trying to walk without tipping over, now I was adding climbing to the mix.

"Ugh, here." Dimitri unceremoniously grabs my upper arm and hoists me up, refusing to relieve me of his vice like grip until I've successfully scraped my foot along the back of the chariot and toppled into the railing to my right. I groan and hop on one foot until the stinging in the injured one stops.

"I hate you." I snap, smacking Dimitri on the arm once I can stand on two feet. He rolls his eyes and faces forward, I huff and clench my jaw. If only I had a knife handy, I could use it to show him just how much I don't appreciate his actions.

Zoltan clears his throat, pulling on the back of my dress. I whirl around and smack his hand away, sending him an evil glare. "I'd rather you didn't, thanks." Zoltan rolls his eyes and claps his hands together, eyes solely on Dimitri. Apparently, despite the fact that I scored eleven in my private training which means I'm a decent component in these games, I still don't matter enough to be allowed some of my mentor's attention.

"Alright, now don't be shy out there. Those people are your only hope of survival, it's a lot tougher without sponsors. Be happy, smile, and wave, make them like you." His cold, calculating glare shifts to me. "Don't screw up." With those final words, he turns and stalks off to stand beside Aphrodite who is beaming with excitement, her eyes trained on my district partner.

I take a deep breath, refusing to let their obvious disregard for my well-being get to me. If they wanted to bet their pennies on Dimitri then that was fine by me. But he wouldn't win because I had no intention of dying in that arena.

My thoughts are cut off by the sounds of the music and the huge gates clanging open. My heart hammers in my chest as the District 1 chariot begins down the pathway. The crowds come alive like they've been electrocuted after years of disuse and with the onslaught of noise comes the feeling of nausea crawling up my throat.

I duck my head and breathe deeply, forcing myself to calm down. Zoltan may not have been talking to me but his advice still applies, I need sponsors. I can't screw this up. I need to make an impression, the Gamemaker liked me, now I need the Capitol to love me.

It shouldn't be that hard, I scored eleven. I'm a safe bet, if people are looking for a winner then they'll be searching for high scorers. That's me.

The chariot jerks and my heart skips a beat as the midnight black horses lead me headlong into a spotlight I don't want any part in. My head pounds as the lights zero in on me, blinding me immensely. The people in the stands cheer louder at the sight of Dimitri and I, the roar of the crowd causes a dull ringing in my eardrums. Like someone smacked a gong next to my head.

"Smile!" Dimitri whisper shouts, accidentally stepping on my foot. I suck in a tight breath of air to keep myself from showing how much that actually hurt. I convince my lips to twist themselves into a glorious smile, flashing white teeth. With one hand, I grip the railing tightly and use the other to wave.

The crowd roars with happiness, yelling and screaming various names. I think I hear mine a few times, but that might also be the result of holding my breath for so long. The chariot ride is long and torturous, my chest feels constricted until we come to a stop and the cheering pauses to give the president the floor for his annual speech.

The president stands from his chair to address the room, his voice bounces off the walls as he stares down at each one of us with cold, intimidating eyes. "Welcome, Tributes, we welcome you to the Capitol. We salute you for your courage, strength, and sacrifice." He pauses for dramatic effect, allowing the citizens of Panem to show their love and appreciation for us through hollers and screams of admiration. "We wish you a happy Hunger Games and may the odds be ever in your favor!" The crowd goes wild and my ears are introduced to a whole new level of ringing.