| Kismet's Parade (D8) - THGRP |

Instructions

「 ✦ 1. Preparation ✦ 」 Kismet's stylist, Jazz Noir, had done an excellent job. Even for the high fashion standards of District 8, it was certainly impressed. He was dressed in purple with hints of gold; stars dotted along the fabric and some had been painted onto his fur as well. But as they looked in mirror of their bathroom, just before it was time for the parade, he gazed at his reflection. And two eyes, gold and lavender stared back at him. But those eyes were not his own. 「 ✦ 2. Heights ✦ 」 How laughable was this. Kismet stood in the woven basket of his chariot, not even capable of peering over the edge. It was far too short. The chariot lurched to a start. Kismet could only assume it had begun moving, but it was hard to tell. It would be proper to make an appearance, right? He was a tribute. He needed sponsors. They couldn't just hide. So after gathering whatever courage it could muster, Kismet placed one paw after another on the edge of the chariot and pushed himself up. Quite a shock it was to be suspended a lethal height off the ground. 「 ✦ 3. Panic ✦ 」 Kismet immediately shriveled down, eyes wide in panic. What had he expected? The chariot had been attached to... something. But Kismet had been distracted. Like always. And now, quite surprisingly, they were airborne in a basket attached to what seemed like some sort of cloth lantern. It wasn't necessarily the height that bothered them. It wasn't really the possibility of falling either, although he was certain that would bother everyone. It was the shock. The unexpectedness. The realization that Kismet had let its guard down, the one thing he promised himself not to do. And that left a pit in his stomach. Made their heart race. Made his eyes sting with tears that threatened to overflow any second if it couldn't get a hold of itself. Because he knew that if this very thing happened in the Games, it would lead to certain doom. 「 ✦ 4. Aspiration ✦ 」 Something drifted up in front of his face. It was lavender. Glowing softly. Peacefully, almost. He took a deep breath and watched it. Their eyes were wide, but it wasn't from fear anymore. It was from awe. And just like that, it wasn't worried anymore. And just in time, too. With a half-smile, Kismet watched as several more lanterns began to surround him. The things were all sorts of colors, and he finally noticed they matched the lanterns attached to the other tributes' floating chariots. And his smile only grew as he made the quite-obvious realization that the mini lantern in front of him and the larger one that clung to his own chariot were matching. Somewhere, down there in the crowd of capital citizens, someone was rooting for them. Or perhaps a few someones, as it spotted several more corresponding ones. Perhaps no one was rooting for him specifically. Maybe it was for the other District 8 tributes: Kenny, Eider, or Star. But he allowed himself to hope that there was a possibility someone believed in him. And hope was all it needed.