Chosen... [Indicolite!]

OOC: I just wanted to say that this is for us to practice roleplay... the title Chosen refers to the topic. I'd like to practice by writing about getting chosen for the hunger games. You know... them calling your name and everything?? You start please(:

OOC Well if you mean the reaping, that's for seperate Districts so it wouldn't really make sense for a roleplay

OOC OHH! Okay, and yes. The reaping. But I understand now... how about when we are with our designers and stuff; and they are preparing us for the games. You know... like when they were getting Katniss ready to go out in front of everyone? Then. When she wore that fire dress thing. Your first!!

So yeah.. You can go first!

Indi had been pinched, poked, and prodded out for what had seemed like hours. The incessant touching... she flinched anytime someone moved a hand near her. Would she never be able to overcome her dark past? Her face was even more masklike than usual with it's overabundance of makeup. Her lashes were curled, her hair had been put in rollers until her tresses fell int elegant curls down her back, and she had shimmering pink paint the exact same color as bubblegum slathered across her lips. There was some sort of bright liner around her eyes that matched the lipstick perfectly. Her entire body had been covered in sparkling powder before she was dressed.

And what a dress it was! Indicolite had expected an extravagant gown because District One was famous for it's luxury, but hers was really something. At first glance, it was silver, but once the light hit it, the fabric erupted into a prism of colors and sparkled like a gem. Blues, pinks and golds jumped off of the dress in the shades of her namesake gem. It was snug at the top and only slightly wider at the bottom, but where the dress touched the floor, there was a train that was a yard wide around the sides and two yards in the back. It was low-cut in the front and even lower in the back. Had it not been for the sparkling powder all over her skin, Indi's scars would have been clearly visable.

After she had been made acceptable for viewing, her team dissolved to go to work on the male tribute, whose name she did not know or care. To win the Hunger Games, she would have to kill him. She knew that if both tributes from a District survived, both would win, but her father would think no higher of her if she brought him along for the ride. While she had a moment to herself, she stepped off of a small, circular platform, wobbling in her heels, and moved over to a vanity. Indi looked at herself thouroughly, poking herself as if to make sure she was still real. She may have been real, but she felt numb.

Indi thought she heard footsteps approaching, but she didn't turn around to great them or even see who they were.

OOC Here you go! (It took a little bit of time)

Rue sat in the chair she had been in for an hour. Her team just sat there, repeating her name over and over. She had heard them discussing her in the other room. They were disgusted with her. Beauty she had, no problem. But what to do with her? They hated her because they felt they were wasting their talent on some young girl who would just be thrown off to the side and murdered in an instant in the games. They felt that she was worthless. She glanced at her wristband. Promise. She couldn't let them bring her down. Nobody could bring her down. She was the kind of girl who was gentle, harmless... until now. Rue understood that she had to be bloodthirsty in the games. That was the whole point of them. She turned to them.
"I... I had an idea." she said. She explained to them that since they were the district turned down upon because of the rebellion, they had to show that they still had game. And that they were still the best. Her team huddled and discussed about what to do with her, and finally started applying makeup and messing with her hair. They threw an outfit on her, and pushed her to a vanity mirror.
Rue studied herself. She didn't look 12 anymore... now she looked 15. Her hair hung down in tight ringlets. Her makeup was detailed perfectly. Around one eye she had a butterfly painted with eyeshadow. On her eyelids was gold eyeshadow, sparkling. They put on thick eyeliner that was neon purple, aloing with dark black mascara. They left her cheeks alone, apart from a little shimmer. Her lips were solid pink. She looked almost like a fairy. Dainty, petite, small, but powerful. She admired her outfit. She had one word for it; exotic. It was a camoflauge tank top with a cami cardigan; all green. Her capris hung just over her knees, broiwn like mud. There was something in the pockets, but she decided that she would observe that later. Her shoes were thick and ready for whatever the arena held. She soon realized what their vision was. Rebel, but also ready to shine. She smiled, but didn't like the thick makeup and costume they applied on her. It wasn't... her. She shrugged her shoulders and turned to them. "Thanks." she muttered angrily. She was annoyed at the fact that they still thought nothing of her. Oh well, she thought. Just shake it off.

Indi could only stare at herself for so long and it was only a few minutes before she grew tired. Her new face was thought-provoking, to say the least, but she flushed all feelings from her mind as she pulled away from the mirror. Her design team had certinly taken advantage of her natural beauty, though she wasn't sure how she felt about that. She wondered how they could possibly make her 'team mate's' look any similar to her without robbing him of all masculinity. She almost pittied the fool, but she did not regret her decision to kill him first. Any of the career District tributes would be tough, but that was why they had to go immediatly.

Indi looked around the room. She had just noticed that the entire room seemed to sparkle, there were so many shimmering dresses in it. Having been put into over twenty to see how they looked, she guessed that there had to be at least fifty dresses on the racks lining the walls. Indi had liked some of the others better, however it was irrelevant and franlly it didn't matter. She supposed that they picked the particular dress she was wearing because it would win her favor with the male audience. Such pigs. They wouldn't think her so pretty when she slaughtered the tributes from their Districts. No, they would think of her as a machine built for killing with a charming exterior.

She was growing increasingly bored and hungry inside that room. Indi required a constant supply of food to keep her from starvation due to her fast metabolism. She hoped that it would not be her downfall. She would make sure to grab something to hunt with when the Games begun. She was fast and she hoped that she would be able to outrun the competition. Her father would be so ashamed if she didn't find a knife or a fishing pole or even some beef jerky. If she won and didn't retrieve something in the beginning that could work to her advantage... that knife could cut her soft flesh so easily...

Indi opened the door that led out of the dressing room and began to walk down the hall. It was long, seemingly endless. They were all unlabeled, as well. She wandered a bit and saw an entire crew of designers leave to walk into another room. She assumed that the room had food in it and that they were on her lunch break. She opened the door, but instead of finding food she saw a tiny girl that she was sure looked younger under all of her makeup.

"Oh, I'm sorry..." Indi began, slowly closing the door. She then opened it up again once her mind registered that the girl was in cargo pants. "Wait... would you happen to be the District Twelve tribute?"

Rue turned away from the mirror that reflected someone fake. She hated it. However, she wasn't going to disagree with the stylists. She was beautiful, actually. Suddenly, she giggled, a little louder than she had hoped. She wondered how they dressed the other District Twelve tribute. She walked gracefully back over to the chair from which she had sat in anticipation earlier that day. She studied herself once more in a mirror that hung beside the chair. Suddenly, she understood. They made her beautiful so that people would pity her when she was killed. Her stylists had no hope for her. But, Rue knew she was strong. She would fight her hardest... and she fights to win.

It hurt knowing nobody thought anything of her. However, she knew that it couldn't get in the way of her goal. She spun around in the turning chair, amusing herself unitl she became dizzy and lightheaded. Nobody thought anything of her. The one thing she had hopes for was to find one person that she could surely trust. Someone not from District Twelve. She knew she could trust the male tribute, but it would be so hard after what had happened so many years ago with him..... She shook her head and cleared the thought. There was no way she would join in alliance with him. But, who could she trust? Sure, someone might say she can trust them. But there is only one victor. They could easily kill her in her sleep. When she's turned around. At any moment. They had to prove trust; and, it would be difficult. One tribute to trust.... But, in the end, one would eventually kill the other. After what Katniss did, that is the only way.

Suddenly she heard her stylists leaving the room. No means of farewell spoken to her. Not even a glance. It wasn't fair; they didn't care about her one bit. As she began to spin again, she heard the door creak open, and saw the unclear face of a tribute. Suddenly the door swung shut, then opened again, revealing Indicolite.
"Wait... would you happen to be the District Twelve tribute?" she asked.
"Actually... yes. I'm Rue... Rue Ladeight. You're Indicolite Dean, correct? I saw you on the Reaping replay.... Why?" I questioned.
She hesitated and then spoke..... "".