Chapter 5 Chapter 5 Changes in the Chess Game

Another force to fight against, another power in power to play me in the palm of my hand, even though the game of chess is always changing and unpredictable.At first, the organizers of the Hunger Games made me their star, and then they had to scramble to try to undo the bad influence caused by the poisonous berry incident.Then President Snow tried to use me to extinguish the flames of rebellion, only to intensify the flames of my rebellion.The rebels snatched me from the arena with their iron claws, designed me to be their mockingjay, only to find to my surprise that I didn't want to be that bird at all.Now Cohen, armed with nuclear weapons and sophisticated machinery, finds it harder to make a Mockingjay than to catch her.But she was the first to spot me as a self-assertive, unreliable person, and the first to label me a "threat."

I fiddled with the thick foam in the bathtub with my hands.Cleaning and bathing is the first step in creating my new image.My acid-etched hair, tanned skin, and ugly scars are all things my makeup artist needs to transform first, before I re-bite, burn, and fall in more dramatic ways. "Bring her back to the basic state of beauty." This was the first instruction Flavi gave this morning. “Here’s where we start.” A base beauty state is one’s fresh, natural state when one wakes up in the morning, which means my nails are polished but untouched, my hair is soft and shiny but unstyled, and my skin is smooth and clean But without makeup.But it seems that rebels appearing in front of TV cameras have new standards.

I wash off the soap suds and Octavia is waiting for me with a towel.She has changed a lot since she was on the Capitol.Gone are her gorgeous fashions, heavy make-up, and exquisite accessories.I remember one day she showed up to me wearing a sparkly bright pink accessory in the shape of a mouse.She told me about several mouse pets in the house.At that time, I felt disgusted when I heard it. In our eyes, rats can only be cooked and eaten. They are harmful animals.But Octavia likes them, maybe because they are small, soft, and squeaky, just like her.I tried to get acquainted with Octavia while she wiped me.Her hair turned out to be auburn, and she was plain, but very sweet.She was younger than I had thought, perhaps only in her twenties.Her fingers looked stumpy and trembling after removing her three-inch ornate nails.I want to tell her it's no big deal and I won't let Cohen hurt her again.But the bruises under her green skin told me how pale my words were.

Likewise, Flavio looked pale and tired without the purple lipstick and fancy dress.He tried to keep his orange curls neat and tidy.Only Vinia has changed the least.Her pale green hair had been let down instead of coiled up, and gray hairs could be seen growing from the roots.That tattoo, however, is her most distinctive signature, and it's as bold as ever in gold.She came over and took the towel from Octavia's hand. "Katniss won't hurt us," she said to Octavia, her voice soft but firm. "Katniss doesn't even know we're here. Everything will be fine." Octavia He nodded slightly, but still didn't dare to look at me.

Getting me back to basic beauty was no easy feat.Plutarch had presciently brought tools, cosmetics, accessories from the Capitol, and my makeup artist had done his best, but what Johanna left behind by taking the tracker from my arm A scar is hard to deal with.None of the doctors who stitched up my wound thought about its appearance.Now I have a pimple scar the size of an apple on my arm.Usually the scar is hidden by sleeves, but Cinna designed the cuffs of the Mockingjay costume to come right up to the elbow.The matter was so serious that Fulvia and Plutarch had to be called to discuss the matter.I bet Fulvia would have had a gag reaction at the sight of the scar.For someone who works with the organizers of the Hunger Games, she is extremely sensitive, perhaps because the horrors she sees are limited to the screen.

"Everyone knows I have a scar here." I said sullenly. "Knowing and seeing are two different things, and the scar is repulsive. Plutarch and I thought about it over lunch." "It's no big deal." Plutarch waved his hand indifferently, "You can wear an armband or something." What they said bored me immensely.I got dressed and got ready to go to the restaurant for dinner.My makeup artists huddled by the door. "Did anyone bring you food?" I asked. "No, we have to go to the restaurant for dinner," said Vinia. Thinking of the situation where these three people followed into the restaurant, I couldn't help but secretly sighed.But who cares, people are always staring at me anyway, and this time it's the same as before. "I'll take you to the restaurant, come on." I said.

The peeps and whispers I usually get wherever I go are nothing compared to the reaction to an eccentric make-up artist.Everyone who saw them opened their mouths wide, pointed and poked, and even exclaimed. "Ignore them," I said to my makeup artist.They stood dumbly in the queue behind me, eyes downcast, and took their lunch: a piece of gray fish, a bowl of stewed okra, and a glass of water. We sat at the table next to the people from the Seam, who were slightly more restrained than the people in the 13th district, maybe just because they were too awkward.Levi, a neighbor in District 12, cautiously called out to my makeup artists.Gail's mother Hazel, who must have known about their captivity, held up a spoonful of the stew and said, "Don't worry, this tastes better than it looks."

But the person who can most alleviate this embarrassing situation is Gail's five-year-old little sister Percy.She slid over to Octavia from the bench and tentatively ran her fingers over her skin. "You are green, are you sick?" "It's a fad, like someone's wearing lipstick," I said. "It's for looks," said Octavia.I could see tears rolling in her eyes. Posy thought about it, and said matter-of-factly, "I think you look good no matter what color you are." A smile appeared on Octavia's face, "Thank you." "If you want to impress Percy, you've got to dye yourself bright pink," Gail said, pushing his dinner plate next to me. "That's her favorite color." Percy said. Giggling, she fell into her mother's arms.Gail nodded towards Flavius' plate and said, "If I were, I wouldn't wait for the food to cool before eating it, and it wouldn't taste better that way."

Everyone began to bury their heads in their meals.The stew tastes good, but it's sticky, as if you have to swallow it three times for every bite. Gail usually doesn't talk much at mealtimes, but today he tried to find something to talk about, and he asked about the Mockingjay costume.I knew he was trying to lighten the mood.There was a heated argument between us last night, and he blamed me for leaving Cohn with no choice, and because I offered a couple of winner's exemptions, Cohen had to offer her own to balance it out. "Katniss, she's the ruler of the district. She can't appear to be following your orders in public."

"You mean she can't tolerate any dissent, even if it's true?" I retorted. "I mean, you're putting her at a disadvantage by making her pardon Peeta and the others, but who knows how much damage they're doing," Gale said. "So I shouldn't do this at all, and let them try their luck? In fact, it's not a big deal, we are all trying our luck anyway!" At this point, I slammed the door angrily, Shut him out.I didn't sit with him at breakfast, and I didn't talk to him when Plutarch sent him to practice.I knew in my heart that he cared about me for what he said, but what I needed was for him to be on my side, not Cohn's.How could he not even know this?

After lunch, according to the schedule, Gail and I will go to the Special Defense Department to find Bit.As we rode in the elevator, Gail said, "Are you still angry?" "You still haven't apologized?" I replied. "I stand by my opinion, you want me to lie?" he asked. "No, I want you to rethink and come up with the right answer." I said to him.But after hearing what I said, he just laughed.No way, let him go.There was no point in trying desperately to correct his thinking.One of the reasons I trust him is because he can tell the truth. The special defense department is deep underground, almost as deep as the floor where the make-up artist is held.It's a hive of small rooms full of computers, lab equipment, research equipment, and test instruments. When asked where Bit was, someone showed us the way.We walked through a labyrinth of rooms and finally came to a huge glass window.Through the window we had the best view of the 13th arrondissement: a large lawn with real trees and flowering plants where hummingbirds swarmed.Pete was sitting motionless in a wheelchair in the middle of the lawn, watching a mid-air emerald-green hummingbird sucking nectar from an orange flower.His eyes followed the hummingbird as it swiped away, and then he saw us too, and he waved us enthusiastically to let us in. The air here is fresh and cool, not as humid and stuffy as I imagined.The sound of hummingbirds flapping their small wings came from all directions. If it was at home, I would have thought it was the cry of an insect.I really want to know what kind of technology is used to create such a lovely place. Bit, still recovering, was pale.His glasses didn't fit well, but his eyes sparkled with excitement behind the pair of lenses. "Don't you think they're awesome? Area Thirteen has been working on aerodynamics here for years. Flying forward, backward, up to sixty miles an hour. Katniss, if I could build you one too Such wings would be great!" "I doubt I can control them, Beet," I said with a smile. "They fly here for a while, and then fly elsewhere. Can you shoot them down with an arrow?" he asked. "I've never tried it, they don't have much meat on them," I said. "Yeah, and you don't shoot 'em for archery, either. But I dare say it's not easy to shoot 'em," he said. "You can set up a net and catch them." Gail said, seeming to recall the situation when he used to set up a net to catch animals. "Take a fine net and cover an area, leaving an opening a few feet square. , Put flowers with honey in the net. When the birds come to eat, they close their mouths quickly. They hear the sound and want to fly away, but the net just catches them." "Catch the bird?" Pete asked. "I don't know, I just figured that maybe they wouldn't be fooled," Gale said. "Possibly. You were talking about their instinct to escape. Putting yourself in the shoes of the animal you're hunting...can catch their weakness," Bit said. His words brought back an unpleasant memory for me.I remember that in the preparation stage before the start of the Century Xtreme, I saw a video of Bit participating, when he was a child.He connected two wires together, electrocuting the children who were chasing him.Those writhing bodies, twitching, deformed faces are still in my mind.Bit, many years ago, watched other "tributes" die before his eyes as he walked towards the winner of the Hunger Games.It's not his fault, he's just defending himself, and we're all acting in self-defense too... Suddenly, I wanted so badly to get out of here, get out of here before someone lowered their nets to catch hummingbirds. "Bet, Plutarch said you have something to show me?" "Yes, that's right, your new bow and arrow." He pressed the button on the wheelchair, and the wheelchair carried him out of the glass room.When he was walking around in the room of the special defense department, he explained to us about his wheelchair: "Now I can walk slowly, but it is easy to get tired, so it is convenient for me to go back and forth How about Finnick now?" "He...he has trouble concentrating," I replied.I don't want to say he's broken down. "It's hard to concentrate, huh?" Beetle said with a wry grin. "If you knew how Finnick got here the last few years, it would be a miracle that he's still with us. But you tell him I Working on a new harpoon for him, okay? Maybe it'll distract him." Distraction seemed like the last thing Finnick needed, but I agreed to bring him the letter anyway. The door to one hall is marked Special Armoury, and four guards guard the door.They checked the timetables on our arms, which was just the first step, followed by fingerprints, retinal and DNA scans, and we went through special metal detectors.Beet needs to leave his wheelchair outside, and they will give him another wheelchair after security checks to go inside.I think this security check is really strange, I can't imagine how people who grew up in the thirteenth district can be a threat to the government, and why they should be guarded against.Could it be that these protective measures are aimed at the recent influx of refugees? Crossing the hall to the door of the Armory, there was a second round of ID checks—it seemed like my DNA would change within minutes of crossing the twenty yard hall.After all the security checks, we were finally allowed to enter the armory.The amount of weapons and ammunition in the armory really surprised me, with rows and rows of small arms, launch vehicles, explosives and armored vehicles. "Aviation ordnance is kept separate from these, of course," Beetle told me. "Of course," I said, as if it was self-evident.I had no idea a simple bow and arrow would be placed with such a high-tech weaponry.After a while we came to a place where we saw an entire wall of deadly bows and arrows.I've seen various weapons in my training with the Capitol before, but none of them were used for military purposes.My attention was drawn to a lethal-looking bow, complete with sights and gizmos.I'm sure I can't even lift this weapon, let alone shoot it. "Gal, maybe you want to try some weapons?" "Really?" Gail asked. "Of course, sooner or later a weapon will be issued to you. If you are a member of Katniss's squad, this weapon will definitely look more eye-catching. I think you must choose one that suits you." Beetle said. "Yes, that's right." Gail said as he picked up the one I was looking at just now.He raised the bow to his shoulder, and through the perspective mirror, he aimed at different directions in the room. "It doesn't seem suitable for hunting deer with this thing," I said. "It's not for deer hunting, is it?" he replied. "I'll be right back," said Beetle.He pressed a button on the control panel, and a small door opened.I watched him go in the wheelchair until the little door closed behind him. "Here, do you think it's easy to use this weapon? On a human?" I asked. "I didn't say that." Gale lowered the bow and poked it on the ground beside him. "But if I had a weapon that could stop the Capitol from bombing Sector Twelve...if I had a weapon that could keep you out of the arena...I'd use it." "Me too." I admitted.But I don't know how to tell him how he feels after the murder, the shadow is lingering in his brain. Beetle returned in his wheelchair, carrying in his arms a large, clunky black rectangular box that stretched from the pedals to his shoulders.He stopped in front of me, handed it to me sideways and said, "This is for you." I put the box down on the ground, unlocked the latch on the side, and lifted the lid.The box was covered with maroon velvet cushions, and inside it stood a large black bow. "Oh!" I whispered in amazement, and lifted it up carefully. This bow is exquisitely designed, well balanced, and the bow is gracefully curved, much like a bird's wings spreading its wings in flight.Also, I had to hold it firmly in my hand to be sure I wasn't hallucinating.No, this bow is alive.I put it close to my cheek, and there was a soft humming sound from the bow. "What is this?" I asked. "Greeting you." Bit grinned and said, "It has heard your voice." "It recognized my voice?" I asked. "It only recognizes your voice," he told me. "Look, they asked me to design a beautiful bow and arrow as part of your look. But I kept thinking, what a waste. I mean, in case -Do you really want to use it? Not just as a fashion decoration? So I designed the appearance very simple, but I used my imagination on the inner design. Of course, you will find it when you really use it It's different. Want to try it?" certainly.The archery field is ready for us.The arrow designed by Bit is also extraordinary.I shot with perfect accuracy at a distance of over a hundred yards.Arrows come in a variety of types—sharp, flaming, and explosive, each clearly marked with a different color on the shaft.I can disable its voice recognition system at any time, but I don't see the need to use it.To turn off the bow's special features, all I have to do is tell it "good night" and it will go to sleep until my voice wakes it up again. After looking at the weapons, I was so excited that I went back to the make-up artist, while Gale and Beet stayed in the armory.I patiently let the makeup artist finish my makeup and get dressed, and they also put a blood-red bandage on the scar on my arm, indicating that I had just participated in a stand-up fight.Vinia pinned the Mockingjay pin to my chest.I took a bow of Beeter's design, and a quiver of ordinary arrows, and they would not allow me to walk around with arrows filled with gunpowder.Then we came to the studio.There, they were busy again, adjusting makeup, lighting and smoke effects, and I stood and waited for probably a few hours.In the end, the mysterious figure behind the glass gave less and less instructions over the intercom, and Fulvia and Plutarch spent more and more time researching the broadcast plan, giving me more and more time to adjust my makeup. come shorter.Finally, the studio fell silent.They stared at me for another good five minutes, and then Plutarch said, "I think that's all right." They greeted me to the control room, played back a video for several minutes, and showed me the woman on the screen.She seemed taller and more composed than I was.Her face is smudged with smoke, but sexy.Her thick black brows revealed her rebelliousness.There were smoke marks on her clothes, which indicated that she had just escaped from the flames, or was about to be thrown into the flames.I don't know who this person is. Finnick, who had been busy in the studio for hours, came up behind me and said, in his usual humorous tone, "They're either trying to kill you, or kiss you, or be you." Everyone present was extremely excited and very satisfied with the work done.Lunch time was approaching, but they insisted on going on.Tomorrow's filming assignment is a TV interview and a speech, pretending I've just been in a fight.Today's shooting task is to complete a one-sentence video, which is a slogan, and then send it to Cohen for review. "People of Panam, we will be brave, we will fight, we will end hunger for justice!" That's it.From the moment this line came out, I could tell they had spent months, if not years, coming up with it and were incredibly proud of it.But I find this sentence long and awkward, and very stiff.I can't imagine anyone talking like that in real life - unless it's being said in a Capitol accent as a joke, like Gail and I used to imitate Effie Trinket Said: "May good luck be with you always!" And Fulvia stood before me, telling me how I had just fought in a battle, how my comrades died in it, how I lived for the union People shouted this sentence to the camera! Then I was sent back to the studio, and the aerosol was sprayed out.Someone shouted: Quiet, the camera started to rotate, and I heard a "shooting".I raised my bow and arrow above my head, and with as much fury as I could muster, I shouted, "People of Panam, we will be brave, we will fight, and we will end hunger for justice!" There was silence at the scene, and I chanted this slogan over and over again. Finally, Haymitch's mocking laugh came over the intercom.At last he could bear it no longer, and said: "Look, my friend, that's how revolutions die."