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whalegirl234
  1. Todd Capaski [D4]
    18th Feb 2013 18:39
    11 years, 2 months & 27 days ago
  2. Orion Levan [D1]
    6th Dec 2012 12:02
    11 years, 5 months & 9 days ago
  3. Penette Huron [D2]
    26th Nov 2012 15:51
    11 years, 5 months & 19 days ago
whalegirl234 1 Comments
Todd Capaski [D4]
11 years, 2 months & 27 days ago
18th Feb 2013 18:39

[center]tumblr_mdpbc5ovwk1r7oqmro1_250.pngtumblr_mdpbc5ovwk1r7oqmro2_250.png[/center]

Name || Todd Capaski

Age || 16

Gender || Male

District || 4

Appearance || I sometimes forget what I look like, you know? It just slips my mind. The lack of mirrors around my home limits me to warped reflections in cups of water???sometimes the ocean waves???and bent silver that's lost its luster. Looks don't appeal to me and, seemingly, mine don't appeal to others. It isn't a bother. I'm quite used to being ignored. But when I do recognize myself, in those rare reflections that hold my face for short moments, I'm reminded that "Hey, that's me! That's Todd." It'll floor me, really, when I see my own chocolate hair and piercing green eyes. It makes me wonder why my face, out of so many others, remains invisible to the eyes of others. But then my mother will remind me, with a few well-spoken words, that I am special and that no one can make me otherwise. She means well, I know it, but sometimes even her compliments don't pull me from my sullen stupors.

There is nothing more that I'd like than to be noticed. There is also nothing I'd hate more. It's not like there is anything physically wrong with me that makes me so insignificant to others; it's just I'm hard to notice. I blend in, well enough to go unnoticed. But when I am seen, maybe for the first time in weeks, it's normally a bad thing. A rough hand will crash through my wavy hair, acting as though it belongs to a person that's my friend. Yet, when my green eyes find the gaze of the being that has just acknowledged me, I never feel the warmth of friendship. Instead, deep in my hollow stomach, a knot will twist up so tight, I think I might just hurl.

"How are we today, pretty boy?" the brutish boy, who's so much taller than my small form, will ask. I'll only tremble in response. What are my thin arms in comparison to his? When practically everyone in District 4 has been sculpted, either by the hard tasks of fishing or by Career training, I'm no comparison. I'm not skeletal, yet I am no behemoth. Normal. Average. Ordinary. That is what I am. And I'm hopelessly content and frustrated with it all at once.

It's a rare occurrence???being noticed???so I don't mind these few scenarios nearly as much as others believe I do. Most of the time, I'm practically invisible to everyone. They'll even speak with me, if for only the briefest moments with commands like "move" or "scram", and not realize who I am. As their eyes pick apart the slight spatter of freckles that riddle my cheeks, they still won't see me. I guess there is always something better, something more interesting, to look at instead.

Personality ||
People pass me by as though I don't dwell in their same realm. Like a ghost that lingers beside living relatives, I'm so close, yet so far. I blame myself most of the time. My dad said it was because I blend in too much. After hearing it so many times, I don't doubt its truth. I've always gone out of my to stay under the radar, to avoid both the joy and danger of being noticed. "Just put yourself out there more," my mom always tells me the same thing and I'm never able to fulfill her little request. It's such a small wish, such a small hope, but I'm even smaller. I'll tell myself, "Do something. Say hello. Say anything." Beginning with a weak voice, quiet as the volume I speak, my thoughts eventually burst into a roar. A sound that matches my father's voice, the one he used to rouse icy fear in my veins when he only wanted something???anything???from me. He wanted a noticeable son, not me.

But even if I'm not noticeable, I notice. Sometimes people are the most interesting things in the world, more so than the beach or the ocean's darkness. Who better to watch them than the one who they refuse to acknowledge? For this, I take a small sliver of pride. It's not enough to bring forth anything other than my submissive disposition, but sometimes it gives me hope. Like a flash of lightning against the backdrop of a stormy sky, I see good within people when I watch them. Almost everyone, actually. Not a living soul has ever dispelled my theory that good lies in every heart. I know???I really am such a fool sometimes???but for now, I'll just keep waiting on that one person to prove me wrong.

Even as I cradle the tiny fire that burns with the hope for humanity, I feel myself suffocating the struggling flame. It will flicker so violently sometimes, when I see someone do something that really changes my perspective, only to burn me later. This horrible cycle of me believing that maybe???just maybe???that guy gave my sister flowers because he does actually care for her, not just want to sleep with her. But then he goes and messes up that one chance I gave him and I get so angry.

My anger, that little monster that has buried itself so deep in my core, scares even me sometimes. It's so violent that I tremble with its aggression, my body quivering as I attempt to keep it within. When my hands tingle with the desire to hurt, I go so far within myself I swear I'll never return. Everyone always says they wish they could escape, wish they could see who they were as a person, but me? I already know. I've stared into my core and seen a monster full of hate that salivates for freedom. I've closed my eyes and departed from the world I live. Sometimes I think I'm so unnoticeable because maybe I never fully returned. Somehow, I left that little piece of myself???the thing that makes me stand out???back near my core, back near the beast that begs to see a world it has only encountered once. Maybe he has eaten it already.

History ||
Being neither the eldest nor the youngest of four children, I am, once again, nothing special. I was actually born third, so my rank among the family kids falls on the younger portion of the spectrum. Born first, the title of eldest goes to my brother Keane. At the age of 20, he's one year older than my sister Spencer. Then there's me at the awkward age of 16. Following not shortly after, my younger sisters of 13, Bee. We're an odd bunch, each uniquely different than the other, but we normally get along well. Or, what I mean is, we kind of stay out of each others way. All of us have our own goals, own lives, and I don't intend to break the fragile balance we have ever again.

I did once. Not too long ago, actually. And, even though it wasn't entirely my fault, I'm still trying to repair the damage. While my parents could never really juggle having four mouths to feed, it wasn't until things got really bad did I ever feel tension between my family. Coexistence was essential. In the sink or swim economy of District 4, where far more people drown than those that float (even if we are considered a Career district), my family's small fishing operation was everything to us. It provided food and money and a place where we all could meet the ocean with open arms. But I'll never forget when the ocean tried to collect its dues for all it had provided over our short lives. That was the day I crossed the lines that separated all of us from one another, the lines that kept our family's equilibrium in check.

All four children had been called to service aboard our parent's boat the day the ocean lurched with illness and groaned with pain. A storm had corrupted the waves, leaving our small boat at the mercy of the sea. "One more haul, guys," my father's voice was insignificant as it tried to overcome the screech of the wind and slap of the water, "Just one." Keane had been working the hardest that day, his toned arms tugging up nets and throwing them back. I'll even admit, he'd done most of my part as well as his own. On the rain-slick deck of the ship, I had stuck to trying to keep my footing while making sure to watch out for Bee.

The waves were relentless as they crashed time and time again against the hull of our ship. It wasn't until when Keane let out a snarl of both pain and determination as he threw one of the last nets over the side that I moved to help. "Let me get the last one," I offered to finally take on the end of the job with a loud voice that still barely made it over the sounds of the storm, "Watch Bee for a sec." My fingers wrapped around the net's rope and let my eyes fall away from my little sister. She was dancing in the rain, her little boots slapping on the deck as she giggled with childish delight that I no longer experienced. Keane stood not too far away, breathing heavy as the cold droplets pierced his sore muscles. Mind consumed with the task at hand, tugging the final net from the ocean's grasp, I let them fall away from my attention. It wasn't until I had finally pulled the last remains of the mesh up did I realize it was a mistake to let Bee leave my sight.

"Where is she?!" my voice was a snarl against the storm, a roar that made me shake with anger. I was frantic, consumed with panic as I stared at the space where Bee had just been.
"She was just there," Keane's voice was heavy with the same chaos I felt and mixed with the exhaustion from the day's work. The words barely reached my ears above the wind and rain. Turning away, I lunged for the railing of the ship, my body colliding painfully with the metal. Against the darkness of the waves, I barely saw the fair hair of my sister's head before it was consumed by the water.

I remember hitting the water hard, the cold shocking my form as I reached blindly for Bee, for air, for the ability to swim. Gripping the still arm of my little sister, I burst to the surface and pulled her from the sea's grasp. We were so heavy together. I remember that the most. Combined, our forms weighed more than the nets or the fish we pulled in with them. I don't remember much else, besides waking up on the sand with Keane leaned over me. Mom was crying. Spencer was too, her body shaking as our dad held her. Bee was holding my hand. I could feel her trembling, either with the cold of the water we had just survived or with emotion. "You saved me," her voice was so quiet I still swear, to this day, that I imagined it. I've never had the courage to ask her for the truth.
"I told you to watch her," my voice came out rough with the stress of having engulfed so much saltwater. Keane withdrew almost instantly, but not fast enough to avoid my fist as it drove into his nose. My body depleted from the rescue of my younger sister, I had a horrible time rising to my feet. It was even harder to hurtle myself at my older brother, to raise my exhausted arms and repeatedly strike his body. I remember Spencer screaming for me to stop. I remember Bee's silence. I remember my dad's roar. I remember my mom's sobbing. I remember the pain exploding in my head as Keane hit me once.

That was all it took for us to never be the same.

Token || A bracelet made of blue rope from my father's fishing nets. There is a small, silver anchor that holds it together.

[center]2jesl7c.jpg[/center]

Training Score || 4

whalegirl234 0 Comments
Orion Levan [D1]
11 years, 5 months & 9 days ago
6th Dec 2012 12:02

[center]tumblr_m7ja6xp55A1qim2ju.gif

Me and my God-Complex? Watch us go.[/center]

Name || Orion Levan

Age || 18

Gender || Male

District || 1

Appearance ||
You will never find a more perfect human being. I am perfect, therefore, I am all you could ever hope to find on this forsaken planet. Deny my charm, my allure? You cannot. You will not. If you do, I shall strike you do with all your impurities. Worship at my feet and perhaps you may stay, just long enough to provide the constant attention I need. Just don't touch me. Never let your filthy fingers brush against my perfectly tanned skin or the hard-earned contours of my muscles. I shudder at the thought. You are imperfect, impure, and as such, have no right touching a God. Yes, I am a God. Do you not understand that? Look at my height and see how I dwarf you. Rounding in at 6'3", I tower over you. Defy me and my abilities so that I may crush you. I'll wipe your impurities from the earth and it will mean nothing.

Stop staring at my perfect body. Your eyes have not earned the right, and they never will. Lust for it all you want, I will not let you touch it. I've spent years forming this, myself, from weights and training. Your grime will not defile it. Day after day, through the sacrifice of sweat and time, I have sculpted a being so fine, none will compete with me. My bare arms pulse with the definition of such power that is unattainable by normal mortals. But don't you forget now, petty being, I am a God. You will never be able to understand my power or my beauty, for I am the sheer essence of perfection. Abandon your foolish struggle to understand, for it is a lost cause.

My hair was gifted from my father, while my blue eyes from my mother. Even so, I consider my creation as having nothing to do with them. Everything about me screams divinity, yet how can that be so if I was birthed by mortals? This is why I will forever deny my lineage. They are not mine and will never be mine. I have no earthly parents and they never quite understood that. Controlling such an unruly child and later, a vicious teen, was an awful burden. Through their own weakness, they failed to contain me. I do not blame them. Afterall, they are simply human and I, on the other hand, am not.

Personality ||
You will never understand me, so why must I explain? Dull beings that you are, acting as simple playthings of my own, humans offer me little companionship. Some say I am cruel, unnecessarily so, while others believe me to be the most awe-inspiring thing they have ever encountered. Even so, like flies to a bug zapper, you all come in the end. Drawn by my power, my Godly allure, you cannot help yourselves. You'd kill to bask in my glory and I love it.

Ruling my small kingdom, I'll command you at my will. You'll throw your life away for me and that is how it should be. But do I need you to sacrifice your life for me? No. Don't fancy yourself for even a moment that I would think that highly of you. I fight my own battles, draw my own blood, and no one is a match. Why would I need you to die for me? I don't. I want you to die for me. To have complete power over everything, including your decisions, that is my goal. Even if you don't realize it, it's your own goal as well. I am a God, remember? You simply can't forget it. You simply can't ignore it. I'll ask you to take up arms with me and fight and you will.

Holding anyone close to my heart is impossible. I cannot understand how those around me and find any attraction to each other. They are all so impure. Finding the flaws in everyone with my fierce, blue eyes, I can never find anything else. Nothing good rises to the surface and nothing probably ever will. If I won't even let you touch me, what makes you think I could ever love you? Anybody for that matter. You are my servants and you have no right being anywhere near the level of a king, no, a God.

History ||
ONCE AGAIN, WIP. FILLLA. I PROMISE I'LL GET THESE STUPID HISTORIES FILLED IN LATER WITH AN ACTUAL STORY. JUST WANTED TO GET WHAT I HAD POSTED UP. BLAH. BLAH. BLAH. PARENTS ABANDONED HIM AT THE AGE OF 14, WHEN HIS GOD-COMPLEX GOT WAY OUT OF CONTROL. BELIEVES THE ONLY WAY TO HELP PURIFY THE WORLD IS TO GO INTO THE GAMES AND MAKE HISTORY. WILL DOMINATE IN THE ARENA AND SPREAD HIS IDEAS OF BEING A RULER TO EVERYONE ONCE HE HAS REACHED HIS CROWN. HAS NO MERCY OR HEART. LACKS ANY REAL EMOTION BESIDES HATE, ANGER, RAGE, ETC. BELIEVES HIMSELF TO BE EQUAL TO A GOD. NARCISSISTIC TO THE MAX. YADAYAYADAYAYADADADA. BLAH. YUP. LATER. I PROMISE.

Token || A silver crown charm on a silver chain that rests in his pocket. It symbolizes his victory and his reign as the ruler of, well.... everyone.

[center][img]https://encrypted-tbn2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRgbJ5D08uJSIKCPPALXTzxGOoiU0B7o2Lb0oVwNHkNU-m8TcC6uQ[/img][/center]

Skills ||
Nothing is beyond me or my knowledge. Yes, I am a God, therefore, I will not fail. Give me my sword, which always lays neatly in my belt, and I will slay any opponent. Cleansing the earth with the massacre of the impure, I will rise above all else with my power. I will run my blade through those inferior to me and those who refuse to accept my power. No one matches me and no one knows this better than me. Into the arena I shall walk, tearing through the Gamemakers hell and sending all other 23 impure tributes to sleep. My power to wield any weapon, even if I prefer my sword, will give me the edge that I need. This perfect body that has no end to its own energy, will push through the Games until I have my crown. I will not stop, and I cannot fail.

Weaknesses || I have none. I will not waste my time learning first aid or how to gather plants. That knowledge is not needed. But don't you dare claim this as my weakness! For I have none. These skills that others call a necessity are not something I desire. I am a God, and Gods don't bleed. If I have any weakness at all, you would never understand them. My weakness is the impurity so abundant in others. You all drive me crazy, insane, with your impure lives. Why does a God desire so greatly to rule such an impure people? Because through my own reign, I shall cleanse them all.

Training Score || 10

whalegirl234 2 Comments
Penette Huron [D2]
11 years, 5 months & 19 days ago
26th Nov 2012 15:51

[center]t6r14p.gif[/center]

Name || Penette 'Pen' Huron

Age || 18

Gender || Female

District || 2

Appearance || Seen as falling to the more attractive side of the scale, Pen fits the rather cookie-cutter vision of a beautiful young Career that simply wishes to perform well in the name of her district. She harbors deep chocolate hair color, similar to that of her mother's. Its straight, silky appearance is a rather prominent signature of her family's lineage, as the Huron's have carried the trait throughout several generations of women. Due to this, Penette often tries (futilely) to hide this fact. She isn't swollen with pride like most of her family, but has a much more level-head about their entire image. Putting her hair up in a bun or ponytail seems to take away from its more notable style, often infuriating her mother who claims her "hair looks amazing down," but really means "that's Huron Hair, flaunt it!". Where's the perfect little killing machine that also loved to show off her beauty; that baby girl that Mrs. Huron always desired? Hidden in the shadows of Penette's very core, maybe she had just what she desired, just maybe.

As well as her hair, Penette carries another family heirloom???her blue eyes. This isn't so much a noticeable feature as her hair, but it is still a part of what defines her as Penette Huron. It???s a clich?? belief, really, that those with blue eyes are all seen as prosperous, simply due to the pigment around their pupils. Pen cannot fathom the grounds for which this notion was built, as it only makes her distrustful of people like her with the crystal eye color. Why trust those that share something in common with her? She's not so credible a source herself.

Something unfamiliar to most others in the small Huron family is Pen???s rather average height. While the boy's in the family tend to tower, no one predicted that Penette would reach the height she did. She had always been smaller, but an elegant young adult that rounded in at about 5??? 6??? was nothing close to the height of her family members. It was average, and no one particularly aimed for average in the Huron family. She's no small matter for a girl of her age, however, compensating with a fiery attitude and slightly large build. Whether it is from training at the academy, wrestling with her two older brothers, or simply a genetic wealth, Penette has a healthy physique. She is not as swollen with muscle like her brothers, but the girl still has quite the definition. This trait, even though somewhat doused by her height, creates a girl that looks quite intimidating, if it weren't for the charismatic smile that always plays on her features.

Yes, yes, everyone may say they have a "winning smile," but in truth, Pen honestly does. She often can't help but let the wide grin split her features. It???s normally just a reaction to being nervous or stressed, but also comes out when she is angry but actually can't do anything about it. When filled with silence but portraying her grin, Pen is simply making it known that she doesn't know what to say and possibly doesn't have anything to say at all. She doesn't like this cheesy aspect of her, but it has definitely become something she is known for. "Smiley" or "Smiles" are the teasing nicknames that her brothers constantly annoy her with, and she often dissuades anyone else from using them.

Personality ||
Penette is quite the complex person, as she often finds even herself doubting how to react to different scenarios and how to behave around others. She's blunt to a point, due to years of hardening with her brothers. Telling people that she doesn't like them or that they are doing something that annoys her is her specialty. No one is allowed to bother Pen without being notified. Even if she has the guts to say something, it more often than not, results in an undesired solution???laughter. Why everyone always assumes her to be kidding, even if it is really an intended bite from her slightly wicked sense of brutal honesty, Penette never understands. She tells it like it is, normally flashing her cheesy grin in the process, whether unconsciously or out of habit. This is most likely the reason why no one seems to take her seriously, believing she just has rude humor.

Penette is also quite apathetic to those around her, hence her lack of care for how people take her "honesty" (except when they irritate her by taking it as a joke). This sprouts from her hatred of awkward situations, which always happens when someone is upset around her. She simply doesn't understand how to handle the situation and often resorts to anger in order to fix it. "Get over it," often spills out of her mouth when she really just wants to say, "I'm sorry." This paints the image that Pen really doesn't like anyone, not even those true friends who come asking for some support in a tough situation. A heartless Career to many, Penette often finds she can't express her true feelings to others. Whether her apathetic side is legitimate, no one really knows.

Her tendency to be cruel often leads her to be judgmental of many. She's quick to snap and quick to categorize. On her first encounter with you, it's either she likes you or she doesn't. There really isn't a between and the task of moving categories is something accomplished by very few. As well as judging others hastily, Penette's habit of losing her temper is quite notable. She isn't one to go out of her way to make enemies and prefers the saying "Keep your friends close and your enemies closer," but often finds herself with a long list of adversaries due to her short fuse. It only takes a few wrong words or an ill-timed sentence to make her vicious. She doesn't stand for people getting in her way or causing unnecessary stress to her life. Doing what she has to in order to get by is how Penette works.

If you do, in some form of a miracle, ever end up reaching the truth about Penette, you've got a real friend for a long time. This girl knows what it means to be willing to sacrifice for someone and if you can earn her respect and faith, she'll go the distance for you. Once someone gets past the Career part of her, they will definitely be rewarded for their determination. She doesn't like to admit it, as it doesn't quite fit the image most people have of her, but Pen can be a true softy. Many times, the girl will become emotional over little things, keeping it to herself and letting the feelings bubble in her stomach. This fact also makes her quite vulnerable to those who are willing to get to know her, as it leaves an opening for someone to hurt her. Making real friends is a hard task because of the fear Pen harbors for letting others get too close. Her Career front is a way of getting rid of that risk.

History ||
WIP. WIP. TO BE DONE LATER YADAYADAYADA. HER MOTHER DRANK AND GAMBLED THEIR FORTUNE AWAY. DAD DIDN'T DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT. HER AND BROTHERS TRAINED TO BE CAREERS. THEY ARE NO LONGER OF AGE TO BE REAPED. MOTHER WANTS PEN TO GO INTO THE GAMES TO WIN AND GET ALL THE RICHES. SOOOO MUCH DEBT FROM THE MOM'S GAMBLING PUTS STRESS ON ENTIRE FAMILY. PEN CONSIDERS VOLUNTEERING HER LAST ELIGIBLE YEAR FOR THE GAMES TO HELP FAMILY. WIP. WIP. TO BE DONE LATER YADAYADAYADA.

Token || A small, wooden and red ball on a silver chain. It is meant to signify the phrase her dad used to tell her all the time. "Just get the ball rollin' and go with it."

[center]bgwfwm.png[/center]

Skills || Penette's strengths fall mostly in the category of physical attributes. She has muscle and speed, which allows for skilled hand-to-hand combat. Her weapon familiarity centers around the Spear family, the brunette having grown up around them her entire life. While some grabbed swords, she enjoyed training with tridents, harpoons, and pikes. Anything that fell in the category of spear-like, the girl often found herself drawn to them. Like a deadly extension of her arm, the girl has mastered the art of handling spears, even with the more difficult task of throwing them for long distances.

Weaknesses || This girl? This Huron girl? Have weaknesses? Well, no. She doesn't. At least, not in her eyes. While educated in the basics of wilderness survival and capable of doing more than most other Careers in terms of self-sustaining, Penette has never experienced true wilderness. She also doesn't know hardships, at least, not like the other District tributes have probably faced. As well as her cushioned lifestyle, Penette is blinded with her own attitude. It is not that she sees no flaws, but rather that she will never see herself failing until it is too close to avoid.

Training Score || 11

  1. Todd Capaski [D4]
    18th Feb 2013 18:39
    11 years, 2 months & 27 days ago
  2. Orion Levan [D1]
    6th Dec 2012 12:02
    11 years, 5 months & 9 days ago
  3. Penette Huron [D2]
    26th Nov 2012 15:51
    11 years, 5 months & 19 days ago



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