demonology
๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐.
the hanging tree
the cast.
ยฉ REVERIEE
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- Thread starter demonology
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demonology
๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐.
CARMEN DAZAI : DISTRICT 12
sakaguchi kentaro.
the hawk.
โกcoded by uxieโก
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demonology
๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐.
INGA MUรOZ : DISTRICT 8
elysia crampton.
the tower.
โกcoded by uxieโก
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.V1LLAINISM._
๐ ๐ ๐ ๐ ๐ ๐ ;;
Remora Odair - DISTRICT 4.
#the good girl is always a ghost
#the body is always a wound
โกcoded by uxieโก
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.V1LLAINISM._
๐ ๐ ๐ ๐ ๐ ๐ ;;
THE AUTEUR.
#The blood keeps running.
#On and On It Runs and Runs.
โกcoded by uxieโก
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orpheus.
.๐๐ ๐๐ข๐ค๐ ๐ ๐๐ฆ.
Placeholder
honeycoves
back from being concussed (:
adonis sierota - district 7
๐กdanny griffin as the berserker
๐กmurder, murder in my mind
โกcoded by uxieโก
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jones573
gen, you viper
the reaper
-district 9
-Medalion Rahimi
โกcoded by uxieโก
Note: Age, Game, and general timeline subject to change due to collaboration!
Basics:
Name: Esther Gerst (known as Tess or Tessa by the few close to her)
Age: 31
Gender: cis woman, uses she/her pronouns
District: 9, Grain
Games Won: 88th Annual Hunger Games at age 19, having been 18 at the time of the reaping
Reputation: Esther's reputation is largely dependent on who you are speaking to. To Capitol citizens, she is half of one of their favorite couples, a devasted young woman who found love with another of their darling Tributes. To residents of District 9, she is a withdrawn woman- Generous at times, but not very involved in her community. To residents of other districts, she is the girl who killed their children without mercy or emotion, who now flaunts her happiness on propo reels.
Motivation: Nothing will ever bring her family back. She has long since given up on the idea of revenge, or even justice. But maybe, if she can stop what happened to her from happening to someone else, it will be enough.
Additionally, she does have a vested interest in protecting those she values- the Star, the Hermit and the Hawk- but she isn't sure she will be able to. She wants to keep her relationship with the Star and keep the Star alive, but isn't sure she can do both.
Appearance:
Esther is approximately 5 and a half feet tall, with an average build. She was more muscular in her youth, but that has become less defined with age and the comfort of a Victorโs life. She has light brown skin that tans and freckles easily, and large brown eyes beneath thick brows. Her dark brown hair is generally very curly, but is relaxed into gentle waves during Capitol appearances. Lately, there have been a few strands of gray.
Faceclaim: Medallion Rahimi
Character Background/Summary:
content warning for domestic violence & child abuse, mentions of prostitution, and descriptions of canon-typical violence
Aren't you my smart girl, then, her mother always said. And Esther was. She was bright and inquisitive, and always asking questions. She paid attention to the details, and noticed patterns in changes.
Perhaps, her mother said, if they saved enough money, they could one day send Esther to school. Real, proper school, not the basic education where the population learned to read and write and do simple sums. School where the Overseer's children went, where they learned to manage irrigation and crop yield and grain storage. It was rare, for a worker's child to attend. But if they could pass the test and provide the money, they were in.
And then, Esther dreamed, she could be the one providing for her family. Because someone needed to do it. Her father was a drunkard. He was mean when he was drunk, of course, but he was worse when he was sober. He was cruel, when he was sober.
Her mother took the worst of it, though Esther and her sister got it as well, always putting themselves in between him and their younger siblings. She got beat for anything and everything under the heat of District 9's scorching sun, and that was just the way it was. Until her mother failed to accomplish some trivial task, and her father punished her by pressing a hot iron to the baby's feet. Her brother's screams awoke something in nine year old Esther- Maybe this was how it was, but it wasn't going to be how it always would be.
It took a week and a half. Mostly that was waiting for her father and her to be out in the field together and alone, but she had to find a broken sheath too, to replace the one over their tractor's splined drive shaft. Then she had to remove the good one, and bury it deep in a field. It was a mildly warm planting day, and she watched with a blank face as her father's shirttails caught in the tractor's joints and he was pulled under. She put the broken sheath over the offending part of the machinery, and reported the accident.
The family received some meager compensation, as the death had been due to the poor maintenance of the equipment by their Overseer. Esther hoped, briefly, that the education her mother had once promised might then materialize. But instead the money went to medicine for her brother's feet and for her ailing grandmother's persistent cough, to new clothes for all of them, and the rest saved to buy additional food during the winter, so she and her sister might not have to take tessarae. They ended up having to regardless.
But Esther did not mind, and held no resentment towards her family. You had to make sacrifices, for those you loved.
Every summer, Esther watched the Hunger Games with rapt attention, though her mother always tried to dissuade her from it. She had always been a somewhat odd child, and she found the Games fascinating, if gruesome. There were patterns in it. When and where food was available, what percentage of Tributes died of disease or 'natural' causes, how the victors performed in their interviews and what sponsors gave to them. She even made small bets here and there- Never on who would emerge as Victor, but on who might die in the next day. Who might receive a life saving gift.
Despite the frequency with which her sister had taken tessarae, she was never called in the Reaping. Esther assumed it would likely be the same for her as well- So many other children took it, for even bigger families than hers.
But she assumed wrong. She was eighteen- nineteen, in a week and a half- when she was Reaped. And everything changed.
Perhaps, her mother said, if they saved enough money, they could one day send Esther to school. Real, proper school, not the basic education where the population learned to read and write and do simple sums. School where the Overseer's children went, where they learned to manage irrigation and crop yield and grain storage. It was rare, for a worker's child to attend. But if they could pass the test and provide the money, they were in.
And then, Esther dreamed, she could be the one providing for her family. Because someone needed to do it. Her father was a drunkard. He was mean when he was drunk, of course, but he was worse when he was sober. He was cruel, when he was sober.
Her mother took the worst of it, though Esther and her sister got it as well, always putting themselves in between him and their younger siblings. She got beat for anything and everything under the heat of District 9's scorching sun, and that was just the way it was. Until her mother failed to accomplish some trivial task, and her father punished her by pressing a hot iron to the baby's feet. Her brother's screams awoke something in nine year old Esther- Maybe this was how it was, but it wasn't going to be how it always would be.
It took a week and a half. Mostly that was waiting for her father and her to be out in the field together and alone, but she had to find a broken sheath too, to replace the one over their tractor's splined drive shaft. Then she had to remove the good one, and bury it deep in a field. It was a mildly warm planting day, and she watched with a blank face as her father's shirttails caught in the tractor's joints and he was pulled under. She put the broken sheath over the offending part of the machinery, and reported the accident.
The family received some meager compensation, as the death had been due to the poor maintenance of the equipment by their Overseer. Esther hoped, briefly, that the education her mother had once promised might then materialize. But instead the money went to medicine for her brother's feet and for her ailing grandmother's persistent cough, to new clothes for all of them, and the rest saved to buy additional food during the winter, so she and her sister might not have to take tessarae. They ended up having to regardless.
But Esther did not mind, and held no resentment towards her family. You had to make sacrifices, for those you loved.
Every summer, Esther watched the Hunger Games with rapt attention, though her mother always tried to dissuade her from it. She had always been a somewhat odd child, and she found the Games fascinating, if gruesome. There were patterns in it. When and where food was available, what percentage of Tributes died of disease or 'natural' causes, how the victors performed in their interviews and what sponsors gave to them. She even made small bets here and there- Never on who would emerge as Victor, but on who might die in the next day. Who might receive a life saving gift.
Despite the frequency with which her sister had taken tessarae, she was never called in the Reaping. Esther assumed it would likely be the same for her as well- So many other children took it, for even bigger families than hers.
But she assumed wrong. She was eighteen- nineteen, in a week and a half- when she was Reaped. And everything changed.
It was a bit of a blur. Being ushered away from her family, seeing the fear in her mother's eyes, boarding the train. But eventually she got her wits about her, and began to take stock of what she knew. Since the Rebellion- since long before the Rebellion, even- there had been no Victor from District 9. That meant she was without a Mentor, for the time being. No doubt they would assign her one when she reached the Capitol, but whoever it was, would have less interest in keeping her alive than someone from her own home might. For now at least, it was just herself and her escort on the train, and the nameless staff.
Her escort was a man with hair as wild as she had ever seen on Caesar Flickerman, and at dinner, she ooh-ed and aah-ed at all the right places. When she tried a delicious new dish, she insisted he try it too, though he protested he already knew what it tasted like.
When she tried a new drink, she certainly insisted he try that.
He was, all things considered, a relatively easy man to persuade, and not very good at holding his alcohol. She plied him with questions, and he was eager to talk. None of the other tributes from District 9 had seemed very interested in his job, he complained. But not Esther. She wanted to know all about it.
Not that he knew that much. A lot of it was worthless drivel about the competitiveness between the escorts and stylists- Who wanted to be assigned to which district and how likely or unlikely that was to happen. But he had a few odd tidbits here and there, that Esther appreciated. He'd heard the Gamemakers were planning something 'unusual' for the arena this year. This would the third game in which they used the new aerial camera drones. What happened to Tributes, once they became Victors.
She figured he thought there was no harm in speaking to her so openly about his petty squabbles. That even if she was more attentive to him than his predecessors, she would be fodder in the initial bloodbath regardless.
Esther had other plans.
"Why, aren't you the most beautiful thing we've seen out of District 9 in some time," Flickerman told her, and Esther blushed on cue. "The best thing since sliced bread, my mother always said," she replied with a tinkling laugh. She did her best in her short interview- To seem sweet and likable, but not too weak. To seem... Desirable.
She did all right in her training, but not spectacular. Years of field work and tessarae had made her strong, but she couldn't compare to the muscles of the Careers. At least she wasn't so weak she could barely lift one of the supplied weapons, like the little girl from District 11 who spent her training with a pen knife, whittling a piece of wood into a horse.
Esther told herself it didn't matter how well she did in training- She was getting back to her family. They would have a Victor's house, and the whole family would move in. Her mother and her younger siblings, but also her remaining grandparent and her pregnant sister and new brother in law. They would be safe, and well fed, and happy. Together.
She had killed for them once already. What was a few more times? You had to make sacrifices, for those you loved.
The girl from 11 dropped the horse she'd carved during the countdown, as they stood on their podiums- Esther always suspected it was intentional. The smoke and fire of the explosion caused some cover, and Esther couldn't tell if there was a ringing in her ears or some quiet, buzzing bee behind her. She ran to the Cornucopia, grabbing the first thing she put her hands on. A large pack. She searched wildly for a weapon of some sort, but after a few seconds of finding nothing, she gave up. She swung the large pack on her shoulder, grabbed a smaller bag and ran.
It was a field, mostly, with tall grasses and the occasional copse of trees or a stream. And strangely enough, little buildings. Esther ran past the first few without much thought. Anything close to the Cornucopia would become the Career's territory and Esther wanted no part in that.
She ran as far as she could, finally collapsing in the grass to steady her breathing. There was the slightest sound above her, like the hum of a very polite bee. After a long while and careful observation to make sure no one else had come this direction, Esther picked herself back up and made her way to a stand of trees, where the faint humming finally stopped. There she went through the things in her bag- Food and water, some basics supplies like a simple first aid kit and sunscreen. A long rope. In the smaller bag, there was something else that looked medical, but that she couldn't identify. She stared at the building nearest to her for a long time, unsure. It was built close enough to the trees that seeking shelter in the ramshackle shed might mean she could be ambushed from the trees. But seeking shelter in the trees might mean she could be ambushed from someone behind the shed.
In the end, she kept walking. The little buildings that dotted the landscape were curious, but likely a trap, she decided. Her goal was to put herself as far away from the Careers as possible.
As night fell, only two canons sounded. Which was odd- One was the girl from District 11, which meant only one other had fallen in the bloodbath. Not much of a bloodbath, was it?
That humming she'd noticed again as she began to walk was replaced by a new noise. A snarling, dangerous noise. Coming from the edge of the Arena, and headed inwards. Esther ran.
The mutts were huge, and more terrifying than anything she had seen before, even at a distance. Not that she tried to look that closely. Eventually, she came back to the odd little barn-like structure she'd passed only twenty minutes ago in her walking, and threw herself inside, slamming the door behind her. The noises stopped. And were replaced by the most dangerous sound of all.
The voice of another Tribute. He seemed friendly enough, or at least not intent on murdering her immediately. He was from District 8, and she reckoned she could probably take him in a fight. He was awfully skinny. They agreed to a tentative truce- They would spend the night in the building together, and depart in the morning, or whenever they could no longer see the mutts outside the window.
He wanted to explore, opening the drawers and cabinets. There was food and water in the first few he opened, and he suggested they split it. They divided it evenly among themselves, though neither ate. She couldn't be sure if he was merely being a smart rationer, or if he suspected as she did- That if something had been provided in the Cornucopia, it wasn't to be found in the arena.
And then he opened the farthest cabinet. And in it were several sharp, steel knives. Perfect for gutting your opponent. "Wait," Esther shouted, noticing the unusually stark line in the floor around his feet. But he reached in with a grin to pull out a knife- And the ground dropped out beneath him. There was a sickening crunch as his body hit whatever was below. So Esther went through his supplies, and took what she could carry.
The next night, she found herself hiding from the mutts with two kids from District 5, and a girl from 10. The kids from 5 had figured out one of the weapons traps, and each held two knives. Neither would give up a knife, and the group took shifts- Esther and one of the 5's would keep watch on each other first, and then the other 5 and the 10. As the others slept, Esther asked her 5 if he had found any food, at the cabin where they'd found the knives. No, he said, and Esther passed him some of the food she'd taken from the night prior.
It was sealed in Capitol packaging, so he ripped open a nutrient bar and ate it quickly. Within minutes, he was dead. She took his knife and slit the other two's throats as they woke up from the sound of the cannon.
She killed another kid the next day, in broad daylight, that same barely there buzzing in her ear. It was easier this time. That night, she had a building to herself, but she didn't sleep, too afraid that one of the Tributes might make it past the mutts to where she hid.
She lost the knives and the smaller bag the next day to the long grasses in a fight with a Career, from which she barely escaped. When she went back for them, they were gone and she cursed herself endlessly for losing the knives. Most of the buildings within her radius had already been picked over, or had traps too difficult for her to spend half a day puzzling out.
She went over the math- 10 cannons had sounded in total. The girl from the bomb, the unknown from the first day, the boy she'd seen die in the trap. The four she'd killed. And three more. She didn't know how the unknown Tribute had died, but even if she assumed they'd been killed by the very same person who'd killed the other three - which seemed unlikely- that was four kills each. If someone was making bets, they might start betting on her. At the very least, they might think helping her would make more interesting games. Maybe she could even persuade some of them that they wanted her to be the Victor.
She found a stream, and tested the water with a finger. Her skin stayed on, so even if she wasn't going to chance drinking in it, she was probably fine to wade. She then proceeded to take the biggest risk of her life: A bath.
It wasn't a proper bath, really. She kept her pants and her lightweight bra on. But she rinsed her arms and her clavicles slowly, and laid down in the shallow water so that her hair floated above her and her clothes stuck to her when she stood. That nearly imperceptible buzzing noise became somewhat more perceptible.
Those fucking perverts, she thought. She went next to the building nearby, the one with the most difficult of traps. She made a few more attempts at solving it, with little luck. But that wasn't why she'd come. She began to cry, weeping quiet tears but keeping her face as composed as possible.
Poor, beautiful Esther. All alone, with no weapon to protect her.
Her tears began to dry, not really sustained by anything, and she feared the ploy had not worked. But there was a soft beeping sound, and she ran outside to retrieve her gift.
It was larger and heavier than she expected, and when she opened it, she found a burnished iron sickle. She would have preferred another knife if she was being honest, but she reckoned this was meant to pay homage to her district, never mind that wheat was harvested with industrial machines these days.
But she swung it through the grass and the stalks fell neatly, so she supposed it would have to do.
With each death on her hands, Esther felt her family get closer. She had to win, to get home to them. Or else, what had all this killing been for?
Eventually, it was just her and a girl from District 2. They grappled, but the other girl was the far better fighter, and she knocked the sickle from Esther's hand as they fell to the ground. She strangled Esther, and as the air left her lungs, she heard that very small hum move closer.
Rather than continuing to try for the out of grasp sickle, Esther reached up, grabbed the cloaked surveillance drone, and brought it down on the other Tribute's head.
What happened next took maybe thirty seconds.
The blow didn't kill the other girl, of course, but it gave Esther a momentary advantage of surprise. She dropped the broken drone, rolled herself and opponent over, grabbed her sickle, embedded it in the other Tribute's eye, and wrenched it down through her eye socket. She sat, breathing heavily on the dead girl's chest, having managed what no other tribute before her had done.
What happened next took maybe thirty seconds.
The blow didn't kill the other girl, of course, but it broke the drone's camera's. It was cast aside, the lenses showing a fractured view of the sky, then grass. The Gamemakers hurried to deploy a new camera, while others tried to right the fallen one. The feed switched off for half a moment, as the new drone took its place, zooming in on Esther from afar. She sat, breathing heavily on the dead girl's chest, having managed what no other tribute before her had done.
Esther had given her competitor a private death.
Her escort was a man with hair as wild as she had ever seen on Caesar Flickerman, and at dinner, she ooh-ed and aah-ed at all the right places. When she tried a delicious new dish, she insisted he try it too, though he protested he already knew what it tasted like.
When she tried a new drink, she certainly insisted he try that.
He was, all things considered, a relatively easy man to persuade, and not very good at holding his alcohol. She plied him with questions, and he was eager to talk. None of the other tributes from District 9 had seemed very interested in his job, he complained. But not Esther. She wanted to know all about it.
Not that he knew that much. A lot of it was worthless drivel about the competitiveness between the escorts and stylists- Who wanted to be assigned to which district and how likely or unlikely that was to happen. But he had a few odd tidbits here and there, that Esther appreciated. He'd heard the Gamemakers were planning something 'unusual' for the arena this year. This would the third game in which they used the new aerial camera drones. What happened to Tributes, once they became Victors.
She figured he thought there was no harm in speaking to her so openly about his petty squabbles. That even if she was more attentive to him than his predecessors, she would be fodder in the initial bloodbath regardless.
Esther had other plans.
"Why, aren't you the most beautiful thing we've seen out of District 9 in some time," Flickerman told her, and Esther blushed on cue. "The best thing since sliced bread, my mother always said," she replied with a tinkling laugh. She did her best in her short interview- To seem sweet and likable, but not too weak. To seem... Desirable.
She did all right in her training, but not spectacular. Years of field work and tessarae had made her strong, but she couldn't compare to the muscles of the Careers. At least she wasn't so weak she could barely lift one of the supplied weapons, like the little girl from District 11 who spent her training with a pen knife, whittling a piece of wood into a horse.
Esther told herself it didn't matter how well she did in training- She was getting back to her family. They would have a Victor's house, and the whole family would move in. Her mother and her younger siblings, but also her remaining grandparent and her pregnant sister and new brother in law. They would be safe, and well fed, and happy. Together.
She had killed for them once already. What was a few more times? You had to make sacrifices, for those you loved.
The girl from 11 dropped the horse she'd carved during the countdown, as they stood on their podiums- Esther always suspected it was intentional. The smoke and fire of the explosion caused some cover, and Esther couldn't tell if there was a ringing in her ears or some quiet, buzzing bee behind her. She ran to the Cornucopia, grabbing the first thing she put her hands on. A large pack. She searched wildly for a weapon of some sort, but after a few seconds of finding nothing, she gave up. She swung the large pack on her shoulder, grabbed a smaller bag and ran.
It was a field, mostly, with tall grasses and the occasional copse of trees or a stream. And strangely enough, little buildings. Esther ran past the first few without much thought. Anything close to the Cornucopia would become the Career's territory and Esther wanted no part in that.
She ran as far as she could, finally collapsing in the grass to steady her breathing. There was the slightest sound above her, like the hum of a very polite bee. After a long while and careful observation to make sure no one else had come this direction, Esther picked herself back up and made her way to a stand of trees, where the faint humming finally stopped. There she went through the things in her bag- Food and water, some basics supplies like a simple first aid kit and sunscreen. A long rope. In the smaller bag, there was something else that looked medical, but that she couldn't identify. She stared at the building nearest to her for a long time, unsure. It was built close enough to the trees that seeking shelter in the ramshackle shed might mean she could be ambushed from the trees. But seeking shelter in the trees might mean she could be ambushed from someone behind the shed.
In the end, she kept walking. The little buildings that dotted the landscape were curious, but likely a trap, she decided. Her goal was to put herself as far away from the Careers as possible.
As night fell, only two canons sounded. Which was odd- One was the girl from District 11, which meant only one other had fallen in the bloodbath. Not much of a bloodbath, was it?
That humming she'd noticed again as she began to walk was replaced by a new noise. A snarling, dangerous noise. Coming from the edge of the Arena, and headed inwards. Esther ran.
The mutts were huge, and more terrifying than anything she had seen before, even at a distance. Not that she tried to look that closely. Eventually, she came back to the odd little barn-like structure she'd passed only twenty minutes ago in her walking, and threw herself inside, slamming the door behind her. The noises stopped. And were replaced by the most dangerous sound of all.
The voice of another Tribute. He seemed friendly enough, or at least not intent on murdering her immediately. He was from District 8, and she reckoned she could probably take him in a fight. He was awfully skinny. They agreed to a tentative truce- They would spend the night in the building together, and depart in the morning, or whenever they could no longer see the mutts outside the window.
He wanted to explore, opening the drawers and cabinets. There was food and water in the first few he opened, and he suggested they split it. They divided it evenly among themselves, though neither ate. She couldn't be sure if he was merely being a smart rationer, or if he suspected as she did- That if something had been provided in the Cornucopia, it wasn't to be found in the arena.
And then he opened the farthest cabinet. And in it were several sharp, steel knives. Perfect for gutting your opponent. "Wait," Esther shouted, noticing the unusually stark line in the floor around his feet. But he reached in with a grin to pull out a knife- And the ground dropped out beneath him. There was a sickening crunch as his body hit whatever was below. So Esther went through his supplies, and took what she could carry.
The next night, she found herself hiding from the mutts with two kids from District 5, and a girl from 10. The kids from 5 had figured out one of the weapons traps, and each held two knives. Neither would give up a knife, and the group took shifts- Esther and one of the 5's would keep watch on each other first, and then the other 5 and the 10. As the others slept, Esther asked her 5 if he had found any food, at the cabin where they'd found the knives. No, he said, and Esther passed him some of the food she'd taken from the night prior.
It was sealed in Capitol packaging, so he ripped open a nutrient bar and ate it quickly. Within minutes, he was dead. She took his knife and slit the other two's throats as they woke up from the sound of the cannon.
She killed another kid the next day, in broad daylight, that same barely there buzzing in her ear. It was easier this time. That night, she had a building to herself, but she didn't sleep, too afraid that one of the Tributes might make it past the mutts to where she hid.
She lost the knives and the smaller bag the next day to the long grasses in a fight with a Career, from which she barely escaped. When she went back for them, they were gone and she cursed herself endlessly for losing the knives. Most of the buildings within her radius had already been picked over, or had traps too difficult for her to spend half a day puzzling out.
She went over the math- 10 cannons had sounded in total. The girl from the bomb, the unknown from the first day, the boy she'd seen die in the trap. The four she'd killed. And three more. She didn't know how the unknown Tribute had died, but even if she assumed they'd been killed by the very same person who'd killed the other three - which seemed unlikely- that was four kills each. If someone was making bets, they might start betting on her. At the very least, they might think helping her would make more interesting games. Maybe she could even persuade some of them that they wanted her to be the Victor.
She found a stream, and tested the water with a finger. Her skin stayed on, so even if she wasn't going to chance drinking in it, she was probably fine to wade. She then proceeded to take the biggest risk of her life: A bath.
It wasn't a proper bath, really. She kept her pants and her lightweight bra on. But she rinsed her arms and her clavicles slowly, and laid down in the shallow water so that her hair floated above her and her clothes stuck to her when she stood. That nearly imperceptible buzzing noise became somewhat more perceptible.
Those fucking perverts, she thought. She went next to the building nearby, the one with the most difficult of traps. She made a few more attempts at solving it, with little luck. But that wasn't why she'd come. She began to cry, weeping quiet tears but keeping her face as composed as possible.
Poor, beautiful Esther. All alone, with no weapon to protect her.
Her tears began to dry, not really sustained by anything, and she feared the ploy had not worked. But there was a soft beeping sound, and she ran outside to retrieve her gift.
It was larger and heavier than she expected, and when she opened it, she found a burnished iron sickle. She would have preferred another knife if she was being honest, but she reckoned this was meant to pay homage to her district, never mind that wheat was harvested with industrial machines these days.
But she swung it through the grass and the stalks fell neatly, so she supposed it would have to do.
With each death on her hands, Esther felt her family get closer. She had to win, to get home to them. Or else, what had all this killing been for?
Eventually, it was just her and a girl from District 2. They grappled, but the other girl was the far better fighter, and she knocked the sickle from Esther's hand as they fell to the ground. She strangled Esther, and as the air left her lungs, she heard that very small hum move closer.
Rather than continuing to try for the out of grasp sickle, Esther reached up, grabbed the cloaked surveillance drone, and brought it down on the other Tribute's head.
What happened next took maybe thirty seconds.
The blow didn't kill the other girl, of course, but it gave Esther a momentary advantage of surprise. She dropped the broken drone, rolled herself and opponent over, grabbed her sickle, embedded it in the other Tribute's eye, and wrenched it down through her eye socket. She sat, breathing heavily on the dead girl's chest, having managed what no other tribute before her had done.
What happened next took maybe thirty seconds.
The blow didn't kill the other girl, of course, but it broke the drone's camera's. It was cast aside, the lenses showing a fractured view of the sky, then grass. The Gamemakers hurried to deploy a new camera, while others tried to right the fallen one. The feed switched off for half a moment, as the new drone took its place, zooming in on Esther from afar. She sat, breathing heavily on the dead girl's chest, having managed what no other tribute before her had done.
Esther had given her competitor a private death.
โAnd what did you mean by that, that stunt with the camera,โ her escort asked her when they were reunited.
She looked at him, puzzled. โI meant to survive.โ What other meaning could there have been?
It wasnโt a good enough answer.
_____
Esther returned home, elated. The six months between her Games and her Victory Tour were the best time of her life. Her family got the first choice of houses in the Victorโs Village, and they chose the largest. Her grandmother moved in, as did her sister and her husband. Her nephew was born. Her younger siblings were a little scared of her at first, but they warmed back up quickly enough- Apparently, their mother had made them stop watching Estherโs games shortly after she had killed her first three opponents. Her older sister at least, seemed to understand what she had done and why she had done it, and that was a great comfort. Her mother was distant, her smiles tight around the edges. But that would fade over time, Esther was sure. Her mother would forget over time, what she had seen her daughter do. Her mother would see, how careful but generous Esther was with their new wealth. Her mother would love her again, she was sure.
Her Victory Tour was a more painful process. She no longer had interest in playing the beautiful young ingenue with the sweet smile and charming laugh, but that was who the Capitol wanted to see. The Districts of course, didnโt care, but if her familyโs continued happiness hinged on this, and just one yearly visit to the Capitol to be prostituted and paradedโฆ She would perform. You had to make sacrifices, for those you loved.
And then there was the surprise announcement. That Estherโs family would be meeting her in the Capitol for a week of sightseeing. Wasnโt that exciting?
Esther didnโt think so- She didnโt want to have to play this part in front of the people who knew her best. And nothing like that had been done before, so why now?
Esther was woken from her Capitol apartmentโs canopy bed in the early hours of the morning and brought through the city, supposedly to meet her family at the train depot. By the time she and her escort arrived, she knew something was wrong. Nevermind that they werenโt at the train depot, but where were the cameras? Didnโt they want to film this reunion and sensationalize it for everyone to see?
Instead, Esther stood in her nightgown in front of a one way mirror. She could see a sterile room beyond, with a drain in the floor. One by one her family memberโs were marched into the room, blindfolded and gagged, even the baby. She pounded on the glass and screamed, she dislocated her shoulder trying to force the door open. She had to be forcibly pulled away by the Peacekeepers when she began to strangle her escort. They forced her to watch, as her family was slaughtered, and she could do nothing.
A train was found derailed, bodies inside wearing clothes from District 9. The work of rebels from District 4, who were so cruel as to strike at a Victor in this way. One who had worked so hard to get back to her family, only to have them taken away. At least she would still have her family in the Capitol, Flickerman assured the masses. The people of the Capitol would always keep her in their hearts, wouldnโt they?
Esther was sent back to District 9 to await the next games, with Peacekeepers stationed at her house for her โsafetyโ from the rebels. She wished she could say she began to plot her revenge then, but mostly she plotted how to get drunk with as little effort as possible.
Upon her return to the Capitol, she was introduced to the first man who wanted to pay for a night of the pleasure of her company. Heโd been the one to send her the sickle, he told her proudly.
Esther broke his arm.
In killing her family, Snow had lost his leverage over Esther. There was only her life to bargain with, and she valued it very little.
In the end, a compromise was reached, brokered by the new escort for District 9. Esther never bothered asking what had happened to the earlier one. She hoped it had been a painful death.
Esther would live in District 9, and be left to herself for most of the year. During her yearly visits to the Capitol, she would take part in a โrelationshipโ with another Victor. Videos of them would be filmed of the two of them, and at least once or twice a year, she would visit the other Victor in their home District, and them in hers.
The Capitol citizens wanted her to be happy, after all.
It wasnโt prostitution, or guards around her home at all times, or a lobotomy, and Esther took it.
She might not have, if she had known then that she would still be just as much of a pawn in Snowโs machinations as anyone else.
She looked at him, puzzled. โI meant to survive.โ What other meaning could there have been?
It wasnโt a good enough answer.
_____
Esther returned home, elated. The six months between her Games and her Victory Tour were the best time of her life. Her family got the first choice of houses in the Victorโs Village, and they chose the largest. Her grandmother moved in, as did her sister and her husband. Her nephew was born. Her younger siblings were a little scared of her at first, but they warmed back up quickly enough- Apparently, their mother had made them stop watching Estherโs games shortly after she had killed her first three opponents. Her older sister at least, seemed to understand what she had done and why she had done it, and that was a great comfort. Her mother was distant, her smiles tight around the edges. But that would fade over time, Esther was sure. Her mother would forget over time, what she had seen her daughter do. Her mother would see, how careful but generous Esther was with their new wealth. Her mother would love her again, she was sure.
Her Victory Tour was a more painful process. She no longer had interest in playing the beautiful young ingenue with the sweet smile and charming laugh, but that was who the Capitol wanted to see. The Districts of course, didnโt care, but if her familyโs continued happiness hinged on this, and just one yearly visit to the Capitol to be prostituted and paradedโฆ She would perform. You had to make sacrifices, for those you loved.
And then there was the surprise announcement. That Estherโs family would be meeting her in the Capitol for a week of sightseeing. Wasnโt that exciting?
Esther didnโt think so- She didnโt want to have to play this part in front of the people who knew her best. And nothing like that had been done before, so why now?
Esther was woken from her Capitol apartmentโs canopy bed in the early hours of the morning and brought through the city, supposedly to meet her family at the train depot. By the time she and her escort arrived, she knew something was wrong. Nevermind that they werenโt at the train depot, but where were the cameras? Didnโt they want to film this reunion and sensationalize it for everyone to see?
Instead, Esther stood in her nightgown in front of a one way mirror. She could see a sterile room beyond, with a drain in the floor. One by one her family memberโs were marched into the room, blindfolded and gagged, even the baby. She pounded on the glass and screamed, she dislocated her shoulder trying to force the door open. She had to be forcibly pulled away by the Peacekeepers when she began to strangle her escort. They forced her to watch, as her family was slaughtered, and she could do nothing.
A train was found derailed, bodies inside wearing clothes from District 9. The work of rebels from District 4, who were so cruel as to strike at a Victor in this way. One who had worked so hard to get back to her family, only to have them taken away. At least she would still have her family in the Capitol, Flickerman assured the masses. The people of the Capitol would always keep her in their hearts, wouldnโt they?
Esther was sent back to District 9 to await the next games, with Peacekeepers stationed at her house for her โsafetyโ from the rebels. She wished she could say she began to plot her revenge then, but mostly she plotted how to get drunk with as little effort as possible.
Upon her return to the Capitol, she was introduced to the first man who wanted to pay for a night of the pleasure of her company. Heโd been the one to send her the sickle, he told her proudly.
Esther broke his arm.
In killing her family, Snow had lost his leverage over Esther. There was only her life to bargain with, and she valued it very little.
In the end, a compromise was reached, brokered by the new escort for District 9. Esther never bothered asking what had happened to the earlier one. She hoped it had been a painful death.
Esther would live in District 9, and be left to herself for most of the year. During her yearly visits to the Capitol, she would take part in a โrelationshipโ with another Victor. Videos of them would be filmed of the two of them, and at least once or twice a year, she would visit the other Victor in their home District, and them in hers.
The Capitol citizens wanted her to be happy, after all.
It wasnโt prostitution, or guards around her home at all times, or a lobotomy, and Esther took it.
She might not have, if she had known then that she would still be just as much of a pawn in Snowโs machinations as anyone else.
88th Annual Hunger Games Summary:
Esther's Games took place in a prairie-like Arena, dotted with small buildings. The Cornucopia contained the only edible food or water, and no weapons. Weapons could only be acquired through gifts from sponsors, or by dismantling the traps around them in the buildings. Mutated animals were let out every night, forcing Tributes until the buildings together. Esther surprised her final opponent by smashing her over the head with an invisible camera drone and then killing her, inadvertently causing footage interruption.
With 11 Tributes dead by her hands, Esther is the Victor with the most individual kills in the history of the Hunger Games. Others have killed more, but none were Victors of their Games.
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neverbackdown
To live would be an awfully big adventure
jones573
gen, you viper
the imposter
-district 2
-Anar Khalilov
โกcoded by uxieโก
Name: Aleks and Adrik Petrov
Age: both 27
Gender: both cis guys, use he/him pronouns
District: 2
Games Won: 91st Hunger Games at 18 years old
Appearance: The twins have large brown eyes, and a nose with a slight crook towards the bottom. They share a mop of light brown curls and thin lips. They have very prominent facial bones, and in recent years this has led to Adrik looking almost gaunt.
Faceclaim: Anar Khalilov
As young children, the twins were inseparable. In narrow bunks at night, they would talk and talk, only falling asleep as the day dawned. It worried their mother as they grew old enough to start school, and she feared their performance would suffer.
But it wasnโt the case. In fact, they excelled. They were both charming and personable, making friends almost as fast as they learned. As they grew older they could often be found after school sitting in the dimly light kitchen, Aleks reading aloud as Adrik took apart their parentsโ radio and timed how fast he could reassemble it.
Eventually, though, there was a divide. Aleks wanted to join an Academy. He had been training himself, he told their parents proudly, and was the fastest kid in their class. He was excited about the opportunity to join the Games and bring glory to their family and their District.
When asked if he wanted to join an Academy alongside his brother, Adrik considered.
He was very rational as a child, and didnโt share his brotherโs optimism about the whole thing. The chances that a childhood spent in an Academy would lead to a chance to compete in the Games? Slim. The chances of surviving the Games themselves? Statistically, less slim. But slim all the same.
Adrik did not want to become a Peacekeeper. And he certainly didnโt want to die.
So.
Their paths diverged. Aleks went to the Districtโs best Academy, and Adrik didnโt. Instead, he pursued his studies- How things worked, and how to make them better. He would have a bright future in mechanics, repairing and replacing the machines that kept the Districtโs industry going.
Things went on that way for awhile. Aleks excelled at the Academy, and Adrik in shadowing various mechanical engineers. They saw each other less and less frequently, but remained the otherโs closest friend.
When it came time for Aleks to compete in District 2โs Olympics, the family held their breath.
Aleks was far more muscular than his lean brother, but he lacked a certainโฆ Physical intimidation factor that was shared by most Career Tributes. They neednโt have worried.
Though it was true that his lowest score was in hand-to-hand combat, he more than exceeded expectations in every other category. He was the fastest candidate by a bit, his survival skills- an area often ignored by Academy students- were among the highest scored in the Olympicsโ history, he demonstrated an ability to problem solve far more quickly than his opponents, and he ranked highly in the use of every weapon. It was a close call between him and the boy heโd lost his hand-to-hand trial to, but eventually the judgeโs decision came down: Aleks Petrov would be District 2โs second volunteer for the 91st Hunger Games.
If Adrik had been concerned for his brother during the Olympics, it was nothing compared to the fear he felt when Aleks boarded the train.
โIโll be back in the month- Less, if I can swing it,โ Aleks told him, a grin on his face and a sparkle in his eye, patting his brother on the back.
And true to his word, he was.
Aleksโ Games were fairly unremarkable. He charmed Flickerman and the audience with his affable and easy going nature. He succeeded in creating an alliance between himself, his fellow District 2 tribute, both Tributes from District 1, the girl from District 4 and the promising young fellow from District 8. The arena was a popular enough setting- a wild forest- and the bloodbath at the Cornucopia was led by Aleks and his pack.
Adrik watched in horror, to see his brother slit the throat of a girl younger than their sister as if it were nothing.
At dinner that night was where things diverged from the usual course of events. Having gone through the contents of the Cornucopia after securing it, Aleks and his pack knew there was no food there, and set out to hunt some. Aleks set snares and caught two rabbits, which he promptly set about cooking. He even flavored them with herbs he had found.
โThat smells delicious,โ one of his new friends told him. โGuess weโll have to keep you around,โ he joked, and Aleks nodded with a smile.
Aleks divided up the portions, and began to eat his. The others followed suit.
Usually, it takes a few days for the Career alliance to fall apart. Aleks killed his alliance that first night, as the others in his group began to eat and one by one, fell down dead. He finished his portion, and then calmly began to eat what the others had left behind.
It was simple enough, Aleks explained to Flickerman later. He had made a study of which plants and poisons appeared in the Games most often when he first joined the Academy, and then over the years, he had built up a resistance to the top five. Simple.
With the sudden removal of the majority of the top contenders, it could have been anyoneโs Games to win. Aleks killed twol more Tributes when he came across them, but mostly he tried to wait them out, allowing the others to kill themselves with poor survival choices or each other in fighting. This was not a terribly popular approach in the eyes of the Gamemakers, who came up with increasingly elaborate ways to force Aleks to compete more directly with the remaining Tributes.
After a few days of running from various mutations and โnaturalโ disasters, Aleks gave them the show they wanted, and was crowned the winner.
Aleks hugged his family warmly when he returned home, and if anyone noticed a hint of discomfort in the brothersโ reunion, no one said anything.
Aleks was a model Victor. He was always available for an interview or comments, he gave generously to his District and preached the values of Panem, and mentored his Tributes with the intent that they would win. He was in the Capitol more often than was really required of a Victor, rubbing shoulders with the wealthy and influential. He seemed happy in his life and his role, and no one seemed to notice that he asked a lot of questions about an awful lot of topics.
And then three years ago, Adrik committed suicide. Devastated by his brotherโs death, Aleks withdrew to his Victorโs home, and did not emerge for months. Eventually the Games began again, and he returned to the Capitol as a mentor.
He had lost weight and muscle mass, obviously not eating well. There were dark circles under his eyes from a lack of sleep, and he wasโฆ Reckless. His humor was dark and biting, and shared to those with whom he should have held his tongue. He flirted with anyone in distance, and fell into bed with those who had not paid for the pleasure of his company. He became a terrible mentor, and all but abandoned his young Tributes to be looked after by District Twoโs other Victors in order to seek out his hedonistic pleasures. He drank heavily, and picked fights he couldnโt win. It was heartbreaking for his District and the Capitol, to see one of their most beloved Victors brought so low by his brotherโs death.
But hereโs the thing: Adrik didnโt kill himself. He didnโt even die.
Instead, it was Aleks who had vanished. Previously unknown activities were uncovered by the Peacekeepers, and it was presumed he had left to join the Revolution. The truth was the sort of scandal the Capitol could not afford. Even a coverup- that Aleks had died in unknown circumstances- might be seen as suspicious, and at the very least would steal away one of the Capitol citizenโs favorite Victors. It seemed wasteful to ignore such a convenient alternative when a spare was readily available.
So, Adrik was given a new life, a lie. He would take Aleks place entirely, or his familyโs lives were forfeit. A funeral was held with a closed casket, and the deception began.
Of the brothers, Aleks had always been the stronger one, not just in physicality but in character. If their situations had been reversed, Aleks might have carried the burden with care and deference. But that wasnโt what had happened. Adrik made for a poor imitation of his brother, and abused his new power and position. The resentment in his heart grew, and he did whatever he could to forget that he had been forced into this role by the very brother he had so dearly loved.
When his name- his brotherโs name, really- was called in the Reaping, Adrik couldnโt really be surprised. He hadnโt behaved the way his Capitol handlers wanted him to, and now they saw a convenient way to be rid of him, and punish Aleks from a distance too.
He lived his brotherโs life for a few years. Now he gets to have his brotherโs death as well.
But it wasnโt the case. In fact, they excelled. They were both charming and personable, making friends almost as fast as they learned. As they grew older they could often be found after school sitting in the dimly light kitchen, Aleks reading aloud as Adrik took apart their parentsโ radio and timed how fast he could reassemble it.
Eventually, though, there was a divide. Aleks wanted to join an Academy. He had been training himself, he told their parents proudly, and was the fastest kid in their class. He was excited about the opportunity to join the Games and bring glory to their family and their District.
When asked if he wanted to join an Academy alongside his brother, Adrik considered.
He was very rational as a child, and didnโt share his brotherโs optimism about the whole thing. The chances that a childhood spent in an Academy would lead to a chance to compete in the Games? Slim. The chances of surviving the Games themselves? Statistically, less slim. But slim all the same.
Adrik did not want to become a Peacekeeper. And he certainly didnโt want to die.
So.
Their paths diverged. Aleks went to the Districtโs best Academy, and Adrik didnโt. Instead, he pursued his studies- How things worked, and how to make them better. He would have a bright future in mechanics, repairing and replacing the machines that kept the Districtโs industry going.
Things went on that way for awhile. Aleks excelled at the Academy, and Adrik in shadowing various mechanical engineers. They saw each other less and less frequently, but remained the otherโs closest friend.
When it came time for Aleks to compete in District 2โs Olympics, the family held their breath.
Aleks was far more muscular than his lean brother, but he lacked a certainโฆ Physical intimidation factor that was shared by most Career Tributes. They neednโt have worried.
Though it was true that his lowest score was in hand-to-hand combat, he more than exceeded expectations in every other category. He was the fastest candidate by a bit, his survival skills- an area often ignored by Academy students- were among the highest scored in the Olympicsโ history, he demonstrated an ability to problem solve far more quickly than his opponents, and he ranked highly in the use of every weapon. It was a close call between him and the boy heโd lost his hand-to-hand trial to, but eventually the judgeโs decision came down: Aleks Petrov would be District 2โs second volunteer for the 91st Hunger Games.
If Adrik had been concerned for his brother during the Olympics, it was nothing compared to the fear he felt when Aleks boarded the train.
โIโll be back in the month- Less, if I can swing it,โ Aleks told him, a grin on his face and a sparkle in his eye, patting his brother on the back.
And true to his word, he was.
Aleksโ Games were fairly unremarkable. He charmed Flickerman and the audience with his affable and easy going nature. He succeeded in creating an alliance between himself, his fellow District 2 tribute, both Tributes from District 1, the girl from District 4 and the promising young fellow from District 8. The arena was a popular enough setting- a wild forest- and the bloodbath at the Cornucopia was led by Aleks and his pack.
Adrik watched in horror, to see his brother slit the throat of a girl younger than their sister as if it were nothing.
At dinner that night was where things diverged from the usual course of events. Having gone through the contents of the Cornucopia after securing it, Aleks and his pack knew there was no food there, and set out to hunt some. Aleks set snares and caught two rabbits, which he promptly set about cooking. He even flavored them with herbs he had found.
โThat smells delicious,โ one of his new friends told him. โGuess weโll have to keep you around,โ he joked, and Aleks nodded with a smile.
Aleks divided up the portions, and began to eat his. The others followed suit.
Usually, it takes a few days for the Career alliance to fall apart. Aleks killed his alliance that first night, as the others in his group began to eat and one by one, fell down dead. He finished his portion, and then calmly began to eat what the others had left behind.
It was simple enough, Aleks explained to Flickerman later. He had made a study of which plants and poisons appeared in the Games most often when he first joined the Academy, and then over the years, he had built up a resistance to the top five. Simple.
With the sudden removal of the majority of the top contenders, it could have been anyoneโs Games to win. Aleks killed twol more Tributes when he came across them, but mostly he tried to wait them out, allowing the others to kill themselves with poor survival choices or each other in fighting. This was not a terribly popular approach in the eyes of the Gamemakers, who came up with increasingly elaborate ways to force Aleks to compete more directly with the remaining Tributes.
After a few days of running from various mutations and โnaturalโ disasters, Aleks gave them the show they wanted, and was crowned the winner.
Aleks hugged his family warmly when he returned home, and if anyone noticed a hint of discomfort in the brothersโ reunion, no one said anything.
Aleks was a model Victor. He was always available for an interview or comments, he gave generously to his District and preached the values of Panem, and mentored his Tributes with the intent that they would win. He was in the Capitol more often than was really required of a Victor, rubbing shoulders with the wealthy and influential. He seemed happy in his life and his role, and no one seemed to notice that he asked a lot of questions about an awful lot of topics.
And then three years ago, Adrik committed suicide. Devastated by his brotherโs death, Aleks withdrew to his Victorโs home, and did not emerge for months. Eventually the Games began again, and he returned to the Capitol as a mentor.
He had lost weight and muscle mass, obviously not eating well. There were dark circles under his eyes from a lack of sleep, and he wasโฆ Reckless. His humor was dark and biting, and shared to those with whom he should have held his tongue. He flirted with anyone in distance, and fell into bed with those who had not paid for the pleasure of his company. He became a terrible mentor, and all but abandoned his young Tributes to be looked after by District Twoโs other Victors in order to seek out his hedonistic pleasures. He drank heavily, and picked fights he couldnโt win. It was heartbreaking for his District and the Capitol, to see one of their most beloved Victors brought so low by his brotherโs death.
But hereโs the thing: Adrik didnโt kill himself. He didnโt even die.
Instead, it was Aleks who had vanished. Previously unknown activities were uncovered by the Peacekeepers, and it was presumed he had left to join the Revolution. The truth was the sort of scandal the Capitol could not afford. Even a coverup- that Aleks had died in unknown circumstances- might be seen as suspicious, and at the very least would steal away one of the Capitol citizenโs favorite Victors. It seemed wasteful to ignore such a convenient alternative when a spare was readily available.
So, Adrik was given a new life, a lie. He would take Aleks place entirely, or his familyโs lives were forfeit. A funeral was held with a closed casket, and the deception began.
Of the brothers, Aleks had always been the stronger one, not just in physicality but in character. If their situations had been reversed, Aleks might have carried the burden with care and deference. But that wasnโt what had happened. Adrik made for a poor imitation of his brother, and abused his new power and position. The resentment in his heart grew, and he did whatever he could to forget that he had been forced into this role by the very brother he had so dearly loved.
When his name- his brotherโs name, really- was called in the Reaping, Adrik couldnโt really be surprised. He hadnโt behaved the way his Capitol handlers wanted him to, and now they saw a convenient way to be rid of him, and punish Aleks from a distance too.
He lived his brotherโs life for a few years. Now he gets to have his brotherโs death as well.
91st Hunger Games: These Games are best remembered for the moment when Aleks poisoned his alliance of Careers on the first evening with a meal he had made, and also ate himself. Though the Gamemakers were displeased to learn he had studied which poisons were common in the history of the Games in order to inoculate himself, it was largely considered a brave and daring move by the audiences and he suffered no consequences from upper leadership, with the exception of the various trials the Gamemakers put him through during the remainder of the Games.
Last edited:
demonology
๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐.
SUN-HI
sora choi. district 4.
the jester.
โกcoded by uxieโก
Last edited:
Dorodoros
(โ อกยฐ อส อกยฐ)โ
MAYA LATIER
THE HAMLET.
I AM HOME TO HOPE & HATE.
โกcoded by uxieโก
Dorodoros
(โ อกยฐ อส อกยฐ)โ
"HAZEL"
THE DOVE.
MURDER OR MARTYRDOM?
โกcoded by uxieโก
reverice
life is a party and i'm the piรฑata.
joan calypsi shaheen
# district 2
# the auteur
# bella hadid
โกcoded by uxieโก
arthur morgan.
be loyal to what matters
Life has little meaning anymore
why should i keep fighting
the banshee
โกcoded by uxieโก
arthur morgan.
be loyal to what matters
Last edited:
jones573
gen, you viper
the hamlet
-district 3
-rose saito
โกcoded by uxieโก
Note: Age, relevant Games, and general timeline subject to change due to collaboration!
Name: Delilah Craine
Age: 71
Gender: trans woman, uses she/her pronouns
District: 3
Relation to Victor: Daughter of the winner of the 19th and 24th Hunger Games
Faceclaim: Rose Saito
Appearance: Delilah is 5'5", with a slim build that's gotten more gaunt as she grows older. She has long, silvery white hair often worn down to her waist, but tied back when working. She typically dyes her eyebrows a darker color, and always keeps them plucked in a fine arch. Her face is lined- Not with laughter exactly, but lined nonetheless. Despite of all the advancements in anti-aging procedures (many of which her research was responsible for), Delilah has never seemed too concerned with her visible progress into old age.
More info to follow!
