Post by MOUSE REDDING on Jun 13, 2012 23:23:00 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #ededed; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #000000 solid; border-bottom: 10px #000000 solid;] Mouse Redding Name: Age: Fifteen Date of Birth: January 24 Sexuality: heterosexual District: District 11 Occupation: tree picker Affiliation: against the games Face Claim: Katty Besnard Tell me about your name. Any interesting story behind it? My name? Well... as I was being born, a mouse ran across my mothers foot. She screamed mouse; ironically just as the doctor had asked what my name was going to be. So henceforth I was Mouse. I tend to beg most people to call me Mo. I seriously hate being called mouse. That's fascinating. How's your relationship with your family? Do you get along well with them? Eh. My dad isn't around much cause of his job. Mom's stuck at home raising my little sister all the time, and I'm out picking the trees myself; so I don't see them all much. When I do though I don't think we have any troubles though. I'm not very privy to my family's emotions, honest. Wow, give me a little insight of your life! I'm sure it's very interesting! I'd rather not, but alright. So I was raised to believe that everything would be okay given time. And so far, it has. Three years have passed since I've started the reaping's and I haven't gotten chosen yet, which is a plus. I've always expected more. If push comes to shove I'll run away one day, but I don't think I could yet. I'm too weak; and my sister needs me. Next year is her first reaping, and I wouldn't want to leave her to that alone...I mean, what if she got reaped? What if in some ironic way, she was chosen to fight? I couldn't live with myself if I left her to do that by herself. I would volunteer in a heartbeat to protect her; no lie. Anywhom; my life is pretty average for a teenage girl in District 11. I go to work, come home, eat, sleep for a bit, and then go back to work. I don't, won't, and probably will never have much of a social life. Unless if magically things change; change for the better. Great story! What do you think of yourself? Describe yourself in a few words and why. I'd love to know! I'm called bluntly honest. Brutal honesty is a trait that runs in my family, something I take pride in. I don't know exactly why I take pride in being honest; other then the fact that I am not afraid to tell people what I really think of them; peace-keeper or not. People also tell me that I have an amazing imagination. I tend to talk about my vivid dreams and people always listen. They call me a storyteller on the farm; for some reason during our short breaks people always come up to me and ask me to tell them about my dreams, even if its the same dream from the previous night. I don't know what else to say about myself... or maybe I don't want to. I suppose I could be called mysterious, I don't like people knowing much about me; or my history. What are you likes and dislikes? I love singing. We sing in the fields, and people love to listen. Peace-keepers have been heard singing our songs sometimes, it makes me laugh. I also love it when it rains. It tends to mean shorter days for us; simpler days for us. Sometimes it means we don't work at all. I hate liars though, they annoy me. And the laws. I want them to change so badly. So much. I don't really appreciate when people set high expectations for anyone, too. It's ridiculous. What do you think you strengths and weaknesses are, and why? I can stand watching people get put through pain. Not necessarily my family, but people I don't really know. I don't enjoy it, but I can sit through watching the games without puking, something no one else in my family can do. I think another strength I have is my mind. I apparently have a very logical mind, so figuring out problems isn't something that is very difficult. I can't stand seeing people pushed too hard, a slight contradiction, but true. I don't know about many other weaknesses I have; most are just simple, regular ones. I hate spiders; I tend to run and scream when I see one. My faithful idea is that anything with more than four legs is creepy. Any hopes and dreams? Goals? I dream that one day the Games will be over with. That people will just stop watching and it'll end. I also have a goal to be a major part in a revolution against them, if it's ever to happen. I'm tired of the tirade that the Capitol puts on us, the constant fear; the no hope policy. Excellent. How are you planning on surviving the games? What's your strategy in mind? My strategy? Climb. Jump down and attack. Simple as that. A guerrilla-warfare strategy. I attack then retreat quickly, leaving no sign of my ever have been there. I can't help but be a little nosy - tell me a secret or two! My lips are sealed. A secret or two... hmm.. I wish I lived in the Capitol. That I never would have to put up with the fear of the reaping's ever again... and another secret I have is that I don't ever find anyone attractive. Be it that I haven't met that certain someone, or that I'm just incapable of love, I seriously would rather not delve into my mind very much farther. What's your current relationship status? Have you met your special someone yet? Single. There isn't anyone; as said before. And that's all for now! Thank you for your time. I hope to see you soon. Thank you for listening. It's been a while since I've been able to talk that much and have someone listen. Bye! The haunted look in her eyes. The ghost of a smile. The crazed face. She was someone to be scared of. She was someone to run from. She was a loony. Insane. No one could see past the insanity that haunted her eyes. But maybe, just maybe, she might be able to escape. To rid her of the monster, the insanity that haunts her. Takes her into its arms, to prier on her soul, her life, to succeed in its own. She fidgets at the sound of a twig breaking, her messed hair, clumped in parts hangs oily from her face. Her scars. They went further than physical. They were mental. Emotional. She would never be able to escape them. She walks through these streets, hunched over, mumbling quiet words to herself, words audible to only herself. Her eyes search the world around her. Maybe looking for a victim, but maybe an escape. Something to free herself from what she is. But really we all knew nothing could save her… Her face is twisted, shadowed by the darkness of the insanity that smothers it. She walks through the streets, her feet echoing around her. bouncing off the dirty walls of the houses that lay either side of her path. She says nothing out loud, but under the sounds of her steps, you may be able to make out her quiet mumbling, but she talks to no. only to herself. She is insane, after all. She wants nothing more than to sink her nails into the flesh of a body, a body with a pounding heart. She wants nothing more than to hear the scream of her victim. Her smile grows as the thoughts run through her mind. Her mouth waters, as she thinks of all the ways to make her victim cry in pain, beg for mercy, the way she had seen so many times before. It crawls desperately through her veins, taking control of her once again. You feel nothing deep down here, nothing that you want to feel. You feel none of the love, that you want so bad, no hope, just the cold bitter happiness of the insanity that haunts you. You wish, even if it’s just for one day, that you could have your body back. Then you may end it. that you may rid yourself from this body… The streets around her are quiet as she scuttles through them. She wanted so desperately to hear screams of pain. She craved it. She thought back to when she had kill her ‘sister’ when she had taken this body to heal her needs. The screams as the knife ploughed through her chest. The betrayal she saw in the eyes of her victim. She had though it was her sister that had murdered her. well it was… but it was her possessed sister. One that no longer had control of her body, she had lost it so a more powerful being. Insanity.. She now searches the streets, her eyes glued straight ahead, as she made her way slowly towards the centre of town. The part of town, where she could really have some fun. alias. age. other characters. |
table by CALIFORNIA DREAMING of CAUTION 2.0.
