The Fandom Hunger Games (A Novella by @voldymorte_and_valour)

Section 7.6 of Chapter 7: Preparations

7.6 - In the Capitol, District 12 preparation area-THG:

       Peeta gave a yell as he opened his eyes, wanting to charge and impale Evan Walker. Evan, whom he had trusted, had led him to be gassed. Him and Katniss both. When Peeta realized that he was alone, his heart gave a great pang. Not only did he have to face the bad memories associated with this room, but Katniss would have to go through this on her own. 'No matter', Peeta thought. 'Katniss is strong, I'm the one who needs her company. She's probably not even too too worried, and strategizing even now.' He figured that's what he should try as well, before the Capitol stylists came in. And so he did, he took a glance around the room and noticed there was a big cabinet full of some unknown objects right in front of him. He managed to pry his fingers into it, and used his brute strength to open it. He peeked inside, and surely enough, there were indeed objects in there. But these were not just any objects, they were weapons. Miniature guns to daggers the size of his index finger. He took a few in his pockets, then paused. He quickly transferred the contents of his pockets to inside his socks, and after making sure they wouldn't cut him, he closed the cabinet and pushed the lock back in place. He heard voices, gradually increasing in volume, and quickly limped over to his bed. That leg had never been the same since the First Games, when it was cut by Cato and Katniss had to put on a tourniquet. The fact that it was an artificial leg didn't faze him, but he still limped. He sighed as he put one leg up onto the bed, then heaved the other over. He'd have to deal with Evan and his gang later. It was now time to prepare for his third Hunger Games. 'No wait, technically this would be my fourth, considering the Capitol's traps that one year.' He shuddered as he remembered those particular horrors, then decided to push that thought aside. His stylists entered the room, and with many greetings and smiles, they got to work. They mussed up his hair and then waxed him too, being careful to avoid Peeta's left leg. Once the stylists were done, Peeta knew the drill. He had to go don some good-looking clothes that represented his District. But he'd already done coal and fire, what more could District 12 possibly represent? He spared a glance at the room, and inside it was a bunch of overalls... Mining.

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