Role Play: Styling

[Emily]

Rue looked at her stylist. Unsure whether to run, hide, or stand and be pinched and pulled by these people.

[Leah]

Leah gulped. Having arrived only minutes before in the candy-colored Capitol of Panem, Leah was already staring into the faces of her prep team. The bluish tinted man with green spikes that stood 2 inches. The beaming lady with pink swirls in her yellow hair. And the lady with dark shades to cover her eyes and metallic tatoos sprouting from her shaven brows. "These are no ordinary people," thought Leah, "They must be Capitol mutts."

[Emily]

Rue felt unnatural here. Her prep team looked like a bag of random candy with all their colors and styles. One had a big pink beehive, while another had golden skin. Another had gone with the simple look of stretch pants and a black shirt. The wide, brown sunglasses were a perfect touch. She loved his hat, a berau. She stood there in awe and mortal terror unsure of how to think of these strange people around her

[Leah]

It was only a moment before Leah was whisked away to be "prepped for success" as the Blue Man, named something unpronouncable, had said. Feeling pinched and pricked and very claustrophobic by these birds of paradise, Leah was scared to meet what was sure to be her freak of a stylist. Surprisingly, however, she seemed relatively normal. "Hi," the stylist said, "I'm Melly!"

[Leah]

Chicory felt very insulted...even though she shouldn't. The flock of weirdos known as her prep team had insulted her, talking about her as if she didn't exist, or at least, wasn't there. Things only got worse when Chicory met her stylist...a strange lady with blonde hair streaked with overly bright pink, lime green, electric blue, and purple lines and a cat costume, made complete with stripes and fake whiskers. At least, she hoped they were fake. Smacking loudly on the black wad of gum in her mouth, the stylist very bluntly and cooly said, "Angelica," while simultaneously sticking out her hand, made dangerous by the seven inch claws protuding from it. Chicory refused to take the hand, but nodded slightly and answered, "Chicory."

[Leah]

The prep team stood before Alex, smiling overly large smiles. One of them said, "We're going to make you look...AMAZING." The others nodded in agreement, although Alex wasn't sure he would feel...or look for that matter...amazing. In walked the stylist. He had a mowhawk that stood at least two feet above his head, painted blue and green, and sunglasses. He walked with a slouch and made his way past Alex, not even acknowledging his presence. This was all too much...Alex wanted to be home.

[Emily]

The stylist came in and started observing her. Rue felt so exposed the way he looked her up and down again. "I am Rory," he said in a capital accent so strong she barely understood it. "We are going to make you look like Mother Earth. I am finished. Her structure is good but we will need to clean up those scratches. She has a nice tan skin. Clean those nails!" Then they whisked her away to a boiling hot tub filled with scents were they began their work.
The beehive spoke first.
"Did you hear about Melissa?"
Sunglasses spoke,
"What? Did she go and screw up in front of the boss again?"
Beehive replied,
"No, but she might be getting the cut because of 1 too many alterations."
Golden piped up,
"You can never have too many alterations. Its like body art, a way of expressing yourself."
Sunglasses told Golden,
"You better stop thinking that way or you could get cut too."
Beehive interrupted,
"They already have a replacement. Name's Cinna. Cat Whiskers is out of here for good soon."
Sunglasses spoke out,
"Poor Melissa. That will be hard for her."
Then they all stopped talking and turned to Rue.
Beehive said,
"You know, she really does have a lovely figure."
Golden said,
"Rory will love working with her. Did you hear about Maxine?"
And once again Rue was alone.

[Hilton]

Bob felt out of place among the pink haired, candy colored skin walking freak shows that were around him. One of the stylists walked in the room and screamed. I didn't know what all the fuss was about. It's not like I was starving to death. I had just eaten a good breakfast. After the the stylist stopped her crying fit, she asked,"How can you let your nails be so short?" I didn't see anything wrong with my nails. Her nails however looked like the nails of a rat that we had caught in the house. The only thing that made them different was that her nails were golden instead of being yellowish black. As I looked at her face, I noticed that it looked like a rat, too. She had wiskers!