I Bet On Losing Dogs

Chapter 7

Authors note: Please comment i am begging y'all. I love writing this but I need to know if any actual humans are reading this. 

They arrive at the Avenue of Tributes with plenty of time to inspect the other teams. Ms Bloom has adorned herself in yet another one of her immaculate creations, gold leaves of palm along her gorgeously refined silhouette.

Flash and Ember both arrive with their stylist in gleaming outfits in their usual shades of Oranges and Bronze, accentuating Gloss' crimson suits with glamour. Gloss and Flash' outfits were in the same series of design styles, both engaging strong metallic images of unbreaking power and perseverance. The true qualities of a Victor, her Uncle would say to the camera soon enough she presumes.

The clicking sound of heels and bickering murmurs, Cashmere and Maverick stride towards them. Last year the outfits of Gloss and Glory had called upon the myths of Nike, an Old Age tale of Speed and Strength. This year, in all their crimson glory, Cashmere appears as a ode to Athena with her partner dressed as Ares.

And they looked like Gods.

She could hear the excited whispers begin to echo throughout the tunnel from other districts and stylist. Maverick's head has been cleaned of all the District muck, giving him almost Marble-esque skin that had been kissed by the sun. Cashmere's unruly curls had been tamed into ever flowing waves of beauty and power, dripping gold onto her carmine gown. She can't help but chuckle slightly at Cashmere's heels though, almost comically large to place her at a similar stature to her District Partner. A split second, unnoticed by anyone else, the girl almost stumbles over her large train, momentarily leaning onto Maverick's shoulder for stable ground. "I swear to God, Johansen. If you try to knock me over one more time." She sneers at the man and he sighs, rubbing his temples gently as to not disturb his makeup.

"Sterling, it's not me. It's the fact you wanted sticks for shoes." He groans, mocking her golden stilettos.

"It's Capitol, you Boho." She teases back at him as they are both ushered to their positions on the chariot. She notices that Gloss has begun to fall behind as they approach, eyes dazily looking towards his younger sister.

"She won't bite." Dottie is made to reconsider as she looks to see the fellow blonde's fiery look in her eyes. "She won't bite you with this many cameras, at least." She reframes with a smile.

"Cashmere, you look lovely." Gloss notes, his eyes are warm with memories untold, a natural smile creeping onto his face to join his sister's company. She locks vicious eyes with him and chuckles to herself before hissing.

"I feel like a tampon." The responses erupt from the collective so violently, you would have thought the Canons had already begun.

Maverick sighs in familiar frustration, "You've got to be kidding me."

"What in the Gem of Panem?", Trifle gawks as if she had taken her razor sharp shoes and thrown them at his precious and precocious head of silver hair.

Gloss groans, pulling his hands through his golden hair. "All mighty, Mira!"

Cashmere rolls her eyes at their hisses and shrills in protest, inspecting her brand new set of hand painted rose nails, in honour of the previous head designer herself. "Can we get on the carriage or not?"

"Here I'll help." Gloss reaches his hand out to help her step up, only to be swatted away by scarlet nail polish.

"I can get up myself." Cashmere's eyes are cold and chilling to the whole ensemble witnessing their interaction. She grips onto Maverick shoulder as a boost instead, Gloss' hand slower lowers itself back to his side as his eyes linger on his little sister graciously flicking the stray strands of hair behind her shoulders once more.