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 Posted: Sat Jan 15, 2011 6:20 pm
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Posted: Sat Jan 15, 2011 7:01 pm
Erm, my name? Mieryn Evelyn Bane, umm...Oh. You want the basics I guess. As I said already, my name Mieryn, but could you call me Mira? I'm a female who calls District 5 home. I was born on a snowy February 18th, fourteen years ago. My parents are Ty Bane and Adromeda Zephr-Bane.
I would describe myself as simply introverted. With everything that as happened in my past, I have grown away from people. I love to just sit in read in somewhat dark corners with a warm blanket. I've never been a fighter, but do find myself rather stubborn. I love to draw, and mind creativity is my escape. It's my Narnia. Anyway, I've been called mentally unstable, but for the time being I have retained my sanity. I am often given weird looks and have truly no hope left. I have nothing to live for. Really, I am nothing.
When I look in the mirror, I see a girl, in her early-ish teens. She only stands about four, almost five feet tall. She has long dark curls had have long since fallen limp around her mid-back. Her eyes are a pale, foggy blue but her skin is pale, not seeing a lot of sunshine. This girl is scrawny and gives off a look of being underfed. She radiates sadness, and has no glimpse of hope in her eyes.
My story isn't a nice one, but if you want to hear it...
It was a snowy February night in the small Bane household, at the far side of District 5. The doctor that tended to all the animal herders and their families was there, giving the couple a dire warning. He told Andromeda Bane, who was merely hours away from birth, that the woman's body couldn't take childbirth. Either the baby or the woman, or both wouldn't make it. But what could be done now? Nothing. The doctor unwillingly stayed, hoping there might be a slim possibility of life left in the candle-lit house. But, four hours later, the doctor let out a sigh. A baby in his hands, and a woman lying dead in the bed, a smile on her cold lips. The little girl was given to her father, along with a brief sorry before the doctor was gone, just at dawn.
That was my beginning. My life began with my mother's death. After that time, my father was never quite the same. He still went to the fields and worked, but my older brother basically took care of me. He was strong and brave and a little too protective, but we managed to get by. We were never exactly well fed but no one in the poor section of our district was.
Then, tragedy struck our already broken family. When I was ten, my brother was reaped into the Hunger Games. My brother, my life line was pulled right out from under me. District 5 never had good stylists. We were often forced into odd animal costumes, but I watched my brother ride around in a chariot covered with cow patterned unitard. Days later, when training scored arrived he received a simple 7. Not all that good, not all that bad. When the actual games began I watched Riley Bane survive. He was doing good, allied with Maple Hernin, the other district 5 tribute. They thrived in the woods. I watched every school day at lunch, praying what seemed like every minute for him to win, to come back alive.
But of course it could not be. On a sunshiny Sunday morning, I turned on the TV with my father to see an unexplainable event taking place in front of my eyes. Maple had been keeping watch while Riley slept when she left her post. The girl slunk towards my sleeping brother, dagger in hand. In one quick motion she had slit his throat, stolen his bag, and run off into the woods. When the cannon shot, I could have sworn I was dead too. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move. My mind was foggy and my head was dizzy. But if I thought I had it bad, it was nothing compared to my father. The man had fallen to his knees, shaking with tears. We just sat there together, the only sounds were those of the TV and of my father's crying.
I didn't go to school the next day. My father didn't go to work. When his boss came to our house, to see if my father was ill, the man only let out a sigh. My father had lost every ounce of sanity. Only a half hour later, peacekeepers came to our house. They grabbed my arms, whispering words I couldn't hear. Then my father's eyes went wild. he picked up a book, throwing it at a peacekeeper. It was deflected, but the peacekeepers' actions were redirected. One held my arm tight, while the other two were trying to fend off my father who was throwing more and more objects. A man tried to reason with him, when my father shattered a mirror over the other's head. The peacekeeper fell do the ground, and in the same instant, the other pulled out a gun and shot a bullet through my father's skull.
I cried out. I tried to fight. But the man holding me wouldn't allow me to move at all. The peacekeeper pulled me away, the image of my dead father forever etched into my mind. He took me to the community home. A place full of despair, full of children with no hope. Who's parents were either dead or unable to take care of them. Just like me.
Several times I felt my sanity begin to slip, but it was never lost. I came close when I was finally allowed to see my brother's body, shipped from the Capitol. I went into a depression, spending almost all my time by the rough grave marker with the name Riley Zander bane carved into it. After two years, I began putting my name into the reaping bowl. One year, two and now, we're up to the present...
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Posted: Tue Jan 18, 2011 3:45 pm
Name -
Age -
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Gender -
Weapon - ( only one )
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Written Description -
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Hey there, I'm Kaen Shrin Terminachi but please, call me Kaen. Der-da-der I'm a girl dimwit, and from District Two. I just turned sixteen years young, on May 19. My parents got me a new sword. You know, since I'm from Two, I've been trained pretty well, just in case I do get reaped. Not that being reaped is a bad thing. Where I come from, it's an honor!
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Posted: Mon Nov 26, 2012 6:49 pm
xxxxxxxxxxxxxx█ █ » ＩＴ'Ｓ ＨＯＬＤＩＮＧ ＭＥ， ＭＯＲＰＨＩＮＧ ＭＥxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxAND IT'S xxxxxFORCINGxxxxx ( me to s t r i v e )
xxxlＴＯx ＢＥ xxxxＥＮＤＬＥＳＳＬＹ ↺ ↺ ＣＯＬＤ ＷＩＴＨＩＮ
αɴd dreαмιɴɢ тнαт━ ι'м αlιve Beep. Beep. Beep. A low grunt of irritation rose from the jumble of covers on the bed as a pale hand emerged from the mess, feeling around on the box that served as her bedside table for the clock, which continued it's assaulting of CJ's ears. When her hand finally found what it was looking for, the alarm clock that received her anger every morning, she slammed her fist down on the snooze button with triumph only for it to continue it's obnoxious beeping. CJ mutter a curse under her breath, the memory of her hitting the clock a little too hard last week and breaking the snooze button returning to her. A sigh escaped the girl's lips and she forced her body out of the warmth of her cocoon of blankets and into the chilly morning air that came with leaving her window open over night. Goosebumps rose all over the skin of her almost bare legs and arms, the girl refused to sleep in anything other than shorts and a tank top, despite the weather, and made her way to the outlet before unceremoniously yanking the plug from the socket.
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With the infernal beeping had finally ceased, CJ finally began moving, as she knew she must. She wasn't the type of girl who spent hours on end getting ready in the morning before school, in fact she was the exact opposite. The girl set her alarm for 7:00, allotting herself a twenty minutes to eat and get ready, she showered at night, twenty minutes to get to school and ten minutes for anything that might mess up that schedule. She had to be in first period by 7:50 and her system hadn't failed her as of yet and allowed her the maximum amount of sleep she could get. CJ also wasn't the type of person who could run on only a few hours of sleep, she had to get at least six hours of sleep on a school day to even come close to functioning correctly.
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The redhead pulled a gray t-shirt, clean tank-top, and jeans from the laundry basket sitting on her desk chair and quickly changed into them, throwing a black and white striped jacket on over top to calm the icy chills running up her spine. She made her way out of her bedroom and two doors down to the small, not quite clean bathroom down the hall. CJ wasn't in the mood to try and tame her fiery red hair, so she just attacked it with a spray bottle, parted it, brushed it and hoped for the best. After brushing and flossing her teeth and finishing up her other business in the bathroom she pushed her glasses up on her nose, the world becoming much clearer around her. After looking the mirror for about a second and a half she turned on her heel and made her way back to her bedroom, passing Erik on the way there. Once back her room she slipped on a pair of ankle socks that didn't match and a pair of beat up sneakers before again leaving the room and entering the kitchen. CJ's stomach rejected the idea of eating this morning, so she just made her way tot he microwave, warmed up some milk and poured a packet of instant hot chocolate into it. The girl drank hot chocolate how some people might drink coffee, so she poured it into a Styrofoam cup, which she and her brother kept in the pantry, grabbed her backpack and began her usual walk to school.
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CJ was old enough to get her license but she never saw the point. They couldn't afford another car or driving lessons, so she just didn't bother. Erik used her father's old car, but they didn't need to waste gas driving CJ to school, the walk wasn't too far at all. It usually only took about fifteen minutes on foot, and even less on bike but today she felt like walking. She sipped the scolding hot beverage which lasted her until she got to school. Upon arriving, she threw out the empty cup, and was glad that the school was at least somewhat warm on a chilly day like today. She honestly hated school, but at least she wouldn't be cold. Everything from there on was a blur until she sat down in her physics class for first period. The seat beside her was empty and half the class was still missing, even with only five minutes left until the bell rang but this was normal. CJ pulled out a rough notebook with a gray cover and opened to the next blank page and began doodling absent-mindedly awaiting the torture of equations and laws that came with her science class. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx☾ :: x ＩＴ'Ｓ ＢＵＧＧＩＮＧ ＭＥ， ＧＲＡＴＩＮＧ ＭＥ ❛ x αɴd тwιѕтιɴɢ мe αroυɴdx
xＹＥＡＨ Ｉ'Ｍ ＥＮＤＬＥＳＳＬＹ ↘↘ ＣＡＶＩＮＧ ＩＮ xＡＮＤ ＴＵＲＮＩＮＧ ↺ ↺ ＩＮＳＩＤＥ ＯＵＴxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
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Posted: Tue Aug 20, 2013 7:02 pm
 cιɴder • мyrα elαιɴe wιɴɴow • pнoeɴιх • cerαмιcThe sun couldn't quite break through the clouds on this particular September day but they felt all to familiar to the red haired girl walking down the street, for her mind always felt at least a bit clouded. Of course, the haziness of her mind was not due to the weather, how could it be? Instead of white of gray, the clouds were green and accompanied by a voice that wasn't quite her own. The voice belonged to a spirit who enjoyed hijacking Myra mind and bodies for random assortments of time when it seemed fit, but that was just another usual day for the Oracle of Delphi, or at least her host. Myra had been the host of this spirit since she was a child, much too young for it to successfully use her but, then again, she had never willingly accepted her role, as most do. Instead, she was chosen, whether it was by accident or by fate she didn't know. The girl had long since given up on figuring it out, the spirit hardly ever gave her any insight into events concerning herself and, of course, she couldn't even remember some of her visions. There was a point in time that she had tried carrying around a tape recorder, one of those old things that used cassette tapes, to be able to listen to the words that had come from her mouth but when she had managed to hit record during her vision, Myra had found the tape in the cassette turned to ash and the recorder destroyed. Clearly, she wasn't meant to know anything, only to be the voice box.
There were a lot of things she had expected to happen and wished she'd known about them sooner, but none so much as the attack on Camp. On that day, merely three months ago Myra had been at the archery range, a son of Apollo had been attempting to teach her how to shoot, although it had been in vain. They were so engulfed in their activities that it took them far too long to realize what was going on. The two of them could see the campers fighting, and some falling, above even before they heard the yells. The son of Apollo, Hadrian, had told her to stay put and run off with his bow and quiver of arrows to join the fight. Of course, Myra never had been very good at following directions and began to follow him up toward the others. When she grew closer, she took out the bronze dagger she'd been given in case of emergencies but she knew she'd have no chance trying to use it. In the end, Myra's mortality saved her. Many of the surviving campers were retreating away from camp and towards the city, herself included. She ran as fast of her legs could take her when suddenly a arrow went straight through her chest. It's a strange sensation, having something seem to phase right through you but it was much preferable to actually being skewered by it. It seemed that the demititans hadn't been expected a mortal to be running from the camp which allowed Myra to escape unharmed.
σ. σ. c.x • x words
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