Terry O'Brian
"Hi.." Clover says " So what do you think of our outfits?" she asks.
"I think that they're stupid outfits that stereotype us based on our district. You don't see all the kids from the Christmas District dressing as Santa Claus?"
"Fun fact! The French version of Santa Claus will sometimes turn kids into Avoxes if they misbehave. Actually, they have been doing that for hundreds of years, even before Panem was established."
"Who gives a shit?" I mutter
She gives me a condescending look "Duh. I do. That's why I said it."
I roll my eyes at her and she does the same. Our matching leprechaun outfits and our not-so-cheery dispositions are so contradictory. The chariot has a corny rainbow and two pots of gold amid a free field of four leaf clovers. How much more cheesy could you get?
"Send the first chariot out!" A man yells and the gates open. The crowd starts to cheer thunderously. I glare at Clover who puts on a huge, fake smile. This will be fun.
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Lucky Patricks (Now by OhSoKatniss, Bumble deleted his account, we think)
The condeming light fueld my confidence. My shimmering green eyes scattered around, staring at each member of the rabid crowd.
The lived for these moments. Moments that would go down in history, and in a few years time I'll be nothing but a whisper of a gossip.
I looked down at Patrick and smiled as he jumped over the end of our chariot. It was thick black to resemble a hollow cauldren and a trail of colours dreamily followed behind it, boasting as though a rainbow. Now all it needed was one thing.
Gold. Lucky and Patrick were that gold, tight and proud in a golden shimmering unisuit that sparkled with white gleam as it met the lights gaze. Patrick and her wore shimmering emarald contact lenses though Lucky thought she'd need not have them, either way they stalked ahead as though blades of grass from a windswept meadow.
The crowd began to throw coins at their carriage and so Lucky, much to the crowds pleasure, lifted the disgruntled Patrick on her shoulders and they continued along the strip in pride.
Pride in their district, and pride in themselves.
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Patrick Shamrock
The light shone, dancing off the crowd and golden chariots as the tributes rolled silently down the cobblestone path. The crowd went wild at the costumes, as the second group of St Patrick's day tributes rolled in, silence followed.
Patrick stood straight, trying to appear taller, with little success, Lucky stood next to him, he wondered if anyone in the crowd would understand their costumes. After a second, loud cheering assaulted Patrick and he stared at the crowd in wonder, they were cheering for him, and Lucky!
A pot of gold, something their district was famous for, and they were being it. Patrick tried not to scratch the tight gold uni suit that encased his body, or his eyes, which had contacts that made his eyes appear larger and greener then the emerald they already were: he thought Lucky looked better then himself.
Why couldn't he have just wore his regular cloths? They resembled something a leprechaun would wear anyways.
He took a moment to look around in awe. The crowd sat packed in stands that reached to the ceiling, where bright lights shone.
A flickering of rainbows alerted his attention to the back of their chariot, he struggled not to turn, but knew the rainbow illusion that completed their look had begun by the screams of delight from the on-lookers.
Patrick looked up at the large screen that showed the tributes and saw Lucky and himself. He nudged her and she turned, her eyes flashing, she grabbed his hand as he nodded to the screen and they stared in awe until it switched to another chariot.
He hadn't thought they looked that good until he had seen them, high and mighty, the screens had even made him look good!
Their bodies flashing gold, as if they were painted, their eyes a startling green, it was impossible to look away, and the multicolored rainbow stretched behind them: it was perfect, and it seemed like the people of the Capitol thought so too.
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Clover Whisk
Clover leans out of the chariot, squinting to try and see what's ahead. Vaguely, she can make out the shape of the very first chariot and the two tributes inside of it grinning. She scowls, slumping against her own chariot and rolling her eyes.
The rainbow hanging loosely behind her shines on, and attempt to cheer up the chariot. Clover scoffs slightly, there's no way to cheer her up, she doesn't want to flaunt herself for the boys in the Capitol and give them the goods. Her arms sling across her chest, her grass green eyes piercing the air around her. She's already made remarks to Terry about how the chariot is only for the shallow sponsors to make their choices, but the man simply responded that he doesn't like her. She's certain she caught the odd mumble that he doesn't like her. Gold coins tickle her foot, for a second she considers kicking the pot of gold out the chariot, directly at the stylists. She attempts to talk herself out of it, now is not the time for an act of rebellion, it gets you nowhere.
It's not just the scenery of the chariot that has attempted to make the tributes look cheerful. Clover feels ridiculous. The white blouse is uncomfy enough without the annoying green dungarees to try and make her into a more feminine leprechaun. Clover's personal opinion is that the outfit is very unoriginal, and giving her shoes too small for her does nothing but add to her scowl. Having refused the hat to match Terry's, instead she has had clovers woven through her hair. Irony, how genius of them.
She knows smiling will earn her some shallow sponsors, but those lot are idiots and send rubbish gifts. She'll earn her sponsors on her training score, thank you very much.
She slips her hands in her pockets and feels the chariot lurch from underneath her. They're off. For a second, she feels like a little kid having fun before the scowl comes back and she casts a disapproving look over the crowd. She mouthes something to the crowd. Stupid.
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