sollie
Member
willow adler
district 7
Relieved, Awe
Training Tower | Floor 7
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A moment away from the chaos to exist.
More tributes emerged from the bottom floor of the Remake Center, and the crowd roared yet again but as they passed by each roped off section, the cheers for her and Gareth didn’t cease. In fact, if it was possible, the more they waved and smiled, the more Gareth threw his arms in the air and laughed with the crowd, it seemed the louder they got. The closest thing Willow could link it to was the wind during winter, blowing loud and filling your ears. It didn’t matter where you went, it was always roaring. Gareth turned to Willow, clearly soaking up their attention much more than she was. “They love us! They love us!" He cheered triumphantly, not giving more than a second to look at her reaction before turning back to interact with the crowd.
The names of all 24 tributes swirl in a cacophony of sound, being thrown left and right. She can hear people calling out ‘Willow’ and ‘Gareth’ but can’t pinpoint where or who shouted it. The best Willow could do at that point was wave and smile and try no to rip the heavy headpiece off herself.
The chariots begin to enter the City Circle, looping around until all 12 chariots have made it. One more loop around the Circle and the chariots settle, situated and facing President Snow’s mansion. Though the music ends, the buzz of the crowd still lingers, impossible to settle and simmer them down after such a boisterous show of support for their favorite tributes. Was it possible to get a sponsor now that she’d shown herself to the citizens of the Capitol? Or would District 7 lay in the shadows and remain sponsorless like many of the outer districts? Willow didn’t know but oddly enough, it didn’t discourage her. Her family lived their entire life with minimal help from the Capitol. She could survive the Games without them too. Although… she wouldn’t detest a sponsor or two, if they were to show up and offer her support…
The music ends and the opening speech commences, President Snow droning on and on the usual prewritten and preperformed speech. Willow didn’t pay attention, finding her eyes drifting to other tributes. Even through their district costumes, she’s trying to see farther into them. What makes them dangerous? What makes them weak? After a moment too long of staring at the boy from two, she rips her eyes away just as President Snow concludes his speech. The tributes are whisked away in an instant under the national anthem, taken from the City Circle straight to the Training Center, suddenly surrounded once again by designers and prep teams.
This is the first time all the tributes have been in one room together– Well, properly. Before the opening ceremony, the fuss of getting into outfits and mounting one's chariots took away from looking at other tributes. The energy was tense and violent. But what else did she expect? Every person in that room was trying to kill her except maybe Gareth. But then again, if push can to shove, would Gareth cut her throat if they were the last two in the arena? Willow couldn’t tell.
As Opal and Diamond go to work removing the intricately crafted costumes from Willow and Gareth, it’s hard not to notice the watchful eyes jumping from tribute to tribute. The pair from one seem to be the only ones not taking the time to assess their competition, instead bickering with each other over a criticism of the Opening Ceremony. It made Willow want to laugh, but only a corner of her mouth came up in amusement at the foolish pair. For once, it looked like Career District One wasn’t coming with its best. Willow sighed in relief at the departure of the heavy headpiece, massaging her scalp to soothe the soreness caused by the heavy thing. “Apparently we get our own floor!” Gareth said. “In this building and all. Each District does, at least. Isn’t that cool?”
His enthusiasm towards being in the Capitol was disturbing. But it was better than sullenness. Once they began training, she had no doubt the reality of their situation would sink in to the young boy. Some of the Careers are chatting, sharing smiles and jokes. Even away from the cameras, they’re doing their best to appear picture perfect. There were a lot of young tributes, Willow noted, most around her age. The older tributes would have an advantage, if only in numbers. Though, the sullen pair boy from District 10 told Willow all she needed to know. Careers weren’t the only ones there to play.
“Come now, you two.” Aema said, appearing to the left of their Chariots, after they’d been stripped on their costumes. “Your entrance wasn’t half bad. Though Gareth had the enthusiasm for both of you..” She led them towards the elevator, crystal and clear and taller than an adolescent tree in District 7. “Thank you!” Chirped Gareth. “We will be arriving at the apartments now. Each District has a floor attached to this building. Since you two hail from District 7, we will be on the seventh floor. Simple enough?”
“Where’s Rowan?” Willow finally spoke, looking around the empty elevator which only housed the three of them.
“Doing the work I can’t. As your chaperone, I can only show you the ways of the Capitol and at least make you seem disgustable. I can’t get you Sponsors like he can. So I’m sure Rowan’s fluttering about trying to convince someone you’re worthwhile. I’m not sure how successful he’ll be though. For you, at least. Gareth’s reception was spectacular, even despite his age.” Aema said.
“That means I’ll get more Sponsors, right?” Gareth looked up at their escort with a glimmer of hope in his eyes.
“Right. Rowan and your stylists will meet us for dinner while you two get yourselves cleaned up. Now, let’s go…” Aema pressed the number 7 on the keypad and in an instant, the crystal elevator was moving swiftly and smoothly up to their floor. Willow hardly noticed when it came to a stop, opening up to one of the biggest spaces she’d ever seen. As Gareth and Willow stepped in, the magnificence wasn’t lost on them. The room was ornately decorated, of course being slightly gaudy and bright, as all things in the Capitol were. But everything looked so expensive. And nice. And plush. The grandeur of it was enough to distract from Rowan, who was standing in the center of it all. And it was enough to make Willow forget, at least momentarily, the fashion atrocity she wore.
The names of all 24 tributes swirl in a cacophony of sound, being thrown left and right. She can hear people calling out ‘Willow’ and ‘Gareth’ but can’t pinpoint where or who shouted it. The best Willow could do at that point was wave and smile and try no to rip the heavy headpiece off herself.
The chariots begin to enter the City Circle, looping around until all 12 chariots have made it. One more loop around the Circle and the chariots settle, situated and facing President Snow’s mansion. Though the music ends, the buzz of the crowd still lingers, impossible to settle and simmer them down after such a boisterous show of support for their favorite tributes. Was it possible to get a sponsor now that she’d shown herself to the citizens of the Capitol? Or would District 7 lay in the shadows and remain sponsorless like many of the outer districts? Willow didn’t know but oddly enough, it didn’t discourage her. Her family lived their entire life with minimal help from the Capitol. She could survive the Games without them too. Although… she wouldn’t detest a sponsor or two, if they were to show up and offer her support…
The music ends and the opening speech commences, President Snow droning on and on the usual prewritten and preperformed speech. Willow didn’t pay attention, finding her eyes drifting to other tributes. Even through their district costumes, she’s trying to see farther into them. What makes them dangerous? What makes them weak? After a moment too long of staring at the boy from two, she rips her eyes away just as President Snow concludes his speech. The tributes are whisked away in an instant under the national anthem, taken from the City Circle straight to the Training Center, suddenly surrounded once again by designers and prep teams.
This is the first time all the tributes have been in one room together– Well, properly. Before the opening ceremony, the fuss of getting into outfits and mounting one's chariots took away from looking at other tributes. The energy was tense and violent. But what else did she expect? Every person in that room was trying to kill her except maybe Gareth. But then again, if push can to shove, would Gareth cut her throat if they were the last two in the arena? Willow couldn’t tell.
As Opal and Diamond go to work removing the intricately crafted costumes from Willow and Gareth, it’s hard not to notice the watchful eyes jumping from tribute to tribute. The pair from one seem to be the only ones not taking the time to assess their competition, instead bickering with each other over a criticism of the Opening Ceremony. It made Willow want to laugh, but only a corner of her mouth came up in amusement at the foolish pair. For once, it looked like Career District One wasn’t coming with its best. Willow sighed in relief at the departure of the heavy headpiece, massaging her scalp to soothe the soreness caused by the heavy thing. “Apparently we get our own floor!” Gareth said. “In this building and all. Each District does, at least. Isn’t that cool?”
His enthusiasm towards being in the Capitol was disturbing. But it was better than sullenness. Once they began training, she had no doubt the reality of their situation would sink in to the young boy. Some of the Careers are chatting, sharing smiles and jokes. Even away from the cameras, they’re doing their best to appear picture perfect. There were a lot of young tributes, Willow noted, most around her age. The older tributes would have an advantage, if only in numbers. Though, the sullen pair boy from District 10 told Willow all she needed to know. Careers weren’t the only ones there to play.
“Come now, you two.” Aema said, appearing to the left of their Chariots, after they’d been stripped on their costumes. “Your entrance wasn’t half bad. Though Gareth had the enthusiasm for both of you..” She led them towards the elevator, crystal and clear and taller than an adolescent tree in District 7. “Thank you!” Chirped Gareth. “We will be arriving at the apartments now. Each District has a floor attached to this building. Since you two hail from District 7, we will be on the seventh floor. Simple enough?”
“Where’s Rowan?” Willow finally spoke, looking around the empty elevator which only housed the three of them.
“Doing the work I can’t. As your chaperone, I can only show you the ways of the Capitol and at least make you seem disgustable. I can’t get you Sponsors like he can. So I’m sure Rowan’s fluttering about trying to convince someone you’re worthwhile. I’m not sure how successful he’ll be though. For you, at least. Gareth’s reception was spectacular, even despite his age.” Aema said.
“That means I’ll get more Sponsors, right?” Gareth looked up at their escort with a glimmer of hope in his eyes.
“Right. Rowan and your stylists will meet us for dinner while you two get yourselves cleaned up. Now, let’s go…” Aema pressed the number 7 on the keypad and in an instant, the crystal elevator was moving swiftly and smoothly up to their floor. Willow hardly noticed when it came to a stop, opening up to one of the biggest spaces she’d ever seen. As Gareth and Willow stepped in, the magnificence wasn’t lost on them. The room was ornately decorated, of course being slightly gaudy and bright, as all things in the Capitol were. But everything looked so expensive. And nice. And plush. The grandeur of it was enough to distract from Rowan, who was standing in the center of it all. And it was enough to make Willow forget, at least momentarily, the fashion atrocity she wore.
/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */
© weldherwings.
