大家好，我又回来了，没有饥饿游戏的图了，所以甩一张帅哥图(╯3╰)

最近好喜欢他←_←

243'

A few hours later, I am dressed in what will either be the most sensational or the deadliest costume in the opening ceremonies.
I’m in a simple black unitard that covers me from ankle to neck. Shiny leather boots lace up to my knees.

But it’s the fluttering cape made of streams of orange, yellow, and red
and the matching headpiece that define this costume.


Cinna plans to light them on fire just before our chariot rolls into the streets.

“It’s not real flame, of course, just a little synthetic fire Portia and I came up with. You’ll be perfectly safe,” he says. But

I’m not convinced I won’t be perfectly barbecued by the timewe reach the city’s center.

My face is relatively clear of makeup, just a bit of highlightinghere and there. My hair has been brushed out and then braided down my back in my usual style. “I want the audience
to recognize you when you’re in the arena,” says Cinna dreamily.

“Katniss, the girl who was on fire.”
It crosses my mind that Cinna’s calm and normal demeanor masks a complete madman.

Despite this morning’s revelation about Peeta’s character,
I’m actually relieved when he shows up, dressed in an identical costume. He should know about fire, being a baker’s son
and all.

His stylist, Portia, and her team accompany him in,and everyone is absolutely giddy with excitement over what a
splash we’ll make.

Except Cinna. He just seems a bit weary as
he accepts congratulations.
We’re whisked down to the bottom level of the Remake Center, which is essentially a gigantic stable.

The opening ceremonies are about to start. Pairs of tributes are being

loaded into chariots pulled by teams of four horses. Ours are coal black. The animals are so well trained, no one even needs to guide their reins. Cinna and Portia direct us into the chariot and carefully arrange our body positions, the drape of our capes, before moving off to consult with each other.

“What do you think?” I whisper to Peeta. “About the fire?”

“I’ll rip off your cape if you’ll rip off mine,” he says through gritted teeth.
“Deal,” I say. Maybe, if we can get them off soon enough,we’ll avoid the worst burns. It’s bad though.

They’ll throw us
into the arena no matter what condition we’re in. “I know we promised Haymitch we’d do exactly what they said, but I don’t
think he considered this angle.”

“Where is Haymitch, anyway? Isn’t he supposed to protect us from this sort of thing?” says Peeta.

“With all that alcohol in him, it’s probably not advisable to have him around an open flame,” I say.

And suddenly we’re both laughing. I guess we’re both so
nervous about the Games and more pressingly, petrified of being
turned into human torches, we’re not acting sensibly.
The opening music begins. It’s easy to hear, blasted around the Capitol. Massive doors slide open revealing the crowdlined
streets.
The ride lasts about twenty minutes and ends up at the City Circle, where they will welcome us, play the anthem,and escort us into the Training Center, which will be our home/prison until the Games begin.

268'

The tributes from District 1 ride out in a chariot pulled bysnow-white horses. They look so beautiful, spray-painted silver,
in tasteful tunics glittering with jewels.

District 1 makes luxury items for the Capitol. You can hear the roar of the
crowd.

They are always favorites.
District 2 gets into position to follow them. In no time at all,
we are approaching the door and I can see that between the overcast sky and evening hour the light is turning gray.

The tributes from District 11 are just rolling out when Cinna appears with a lighted torch. “Here we go then,” he says, and before
we can react he sets our capes on fire.

I gasp, waiting for the heat, but there is only a faint tickling sensation. Cinna
climbs up before us and ignites our headdresses. He lets out a
sign of relief. “It works.”

Then he gently tucks a hand under
my chin. “Remember, heads high. Smiles. They’re going to love you!”

Cinna jumps off the chariot and has one last idea. He shouts something up at us, but the music drowns him out. He shouts
again and gestures.
“What’s he saying?” I ask Peeta. For the first time, I look at
him and realize that ablaze with the fake flames, he is dazzling.

And I must be, too.
“I think he said for us to hold hands,” says Peeta.

He grabs my right hand in his left, and we look to Cinna for confirmation.
He nods and gives a thumbs-up, and that’s the last thing I see before we enter the city.

The crowd’s initial alarm at our appearance quickly changes to cheers and shouts of “District Twelve!” Every head
is turned our way, pulling the focus from the three chariots ahead of us. At first, I’m frozen, but then I catch sight of us on
a large television screen and am floored by how breathtaking
we look.

In the deepening twilight, the firelight illuminates our faces. We seem to be leaving a trail of fire off the flowing
capes.

Cinna was right about the minimal makeup, we both
look more attractive but utterly recognizable.
Remember, heads high. Smiles. They’re going to love you! I
hear Cinna’s voice in my head. I lift my chin a bit higher, put on my most winning smile, and wave with my free hand. I’m
glad now I have Peeta to clutch for balance, he is so steady,solid as a rock. As I gain confidence, I actually blow a few
kisses to the crowd.

The people of the Capitol are going nuts,
showering us with flowers, shouting our names, our first names, which they have bothered to find on the program.

The pounding music, the cheers, the admiration work their
way into my blood, and I can’t suppress my excitement.

Cinna has given me a great advantage. No one will forget me. Not my
look, not my name. Katniss. The girl who was on fire.

For the first time, I feel a flicker of hope rising up in me.

Surely, there must be one sponsor willing to take me on!

And with a little extra help, some food, the right weapon, why should I count myself out of the Games?
Someone throws me a red rose. I catch it, give it a delicate sniff, and blow a kiss back in the general direction of the giver.

A hundred hands reach up to catch my kiss, as if it were a real and tangible thing.