{poppy disreas}{d10}{fin}

[Dreams]

Name: Poppy Varissa Disreas
Age: 16 17
Gender: Female
District/Area: District 10
Appearance:

Personality:

History:

teehee you'll see

Codeword: odair
Comments/Other:

FC: Sydney Sierota

[Dreams]

and like a butterfly
i'll spread my wings
and fly away
into the sunrise
of another day

poppy disreas ♢ district 10 ♢ female ♢ fifteen

-- take a glance --

Wind swept hair is tousled in front of her face, strawberry blonde and glowing red in the sunlight. Clover orbs are set on a what would be called delicate face, if it weren't for the startling determination in her radiant green eyes. Her skin, unlike most others, is not sun kissed tan but rather a pale shade. It refuses to darken and is much more fond, it seems, of burning, much to the girl's annoyance. Her frame resembles a butterfly, with long arms and lacy fingers, as well as a wiry frame, delicate shoulders, and bones that could easily be snapped if one was strong enough. But she's too quick for anyone to get their hands on her. She isn't tough enough to get away if they do catch her, but if she runs they'll never be able to. Her ribs seem so easily countable, it's almost scary. She's too skinny and small, it seems. But it's only the aftermath of being born in Ten. Being underfed is a problem, especially for her.

Her thin legs make their way over to the rough fence that outlines a property. Under any normal person's weight, it would most likely groan and snap. But this light girl got up just fine, though she had a bit of balance problems before she got a steady stance. And then, pace by pace, she started walking down the fence line. She held her arms out, but even then she wobbled every so often. Her balance wasn't wonderful as she started out, but she began to run, and her neatly placed, small feet didn't even have time to worry about whether their owner would fall off. Her arms, this time, were outstretched forward, and then she leaned, revolving all the way around and was back on her feet again. It was amazing, how her back bent so far, how her lanky arms could have held. Her off white teeth showed a smile through her thin, cracked lips as she hopped off with no noise at all, walking through the golden grass fields that laced Ten.

-- close your eyes --

Poppy is what she looks like. Delicate. Soft. Easy to break, easy to fall. She's sensitive. It's so easy to hurt her, to get inside and destroy her heart. She trusts much too quick and loves too many people. She throws her feelings around more than she should, trying to please and, with that, forgetting about herself. Manipulation is something she hates but can't avoid, she could be lied to and never be suspicious. She reads people at first glance and than goes on. She has it in her mind than everyone is good and kind and nice when they aren't. Well, everyone except for the Capitol, that is. But she doesn't judge anyone by looks are attitude. She is somewhat like a dog. She could be beaten by her owner and still come back faithfully. She could be shown a cage and walk in. She's very likable, and likes too many.

Poppy is also quite the bookworm. There isn't much to spare, but when she gathers enough coins she finds on the streets, she buys a book that sparks her interest. Usually, after school, she will just nestle up in her room and read. She's easily inspired by the words and one day wants to write as well as that. One day she wants to somehow think of words that will inspire others, too. One day she wished her words would flow. But she is a big stutterer. There is nothing wrong with her, she just is shy. She has no friends, and it's the reason why. She mainly gets picked on because of her broken words.

But there is a time when Poppy never stutters. And that is when she sings. She sings a lot, when no one's looking. When she's sure no one can ever here. She writes lyrics and she sings and dances alone in the fields and meadows. It's her own secret. Sometimes she wants to just sing every word she could say because it would be smooth and fluent and sweet, like a bird. Poppy sings to get out of hard times because music is the only friend she has, the notes form around her like a bed and the words hugs her with arms of warmth that she needs. And music is always there, and it always will be, for her at least.

-- remember when --

Poppy had a quite unfortunate childhood. She was born to a family that never even wanted her. She was shouted at and hurt by her own parents. She was so scared to step out of line, so scared to make a mistake. So scared, that her stuttering started when she first talked. It's never been different. She was a terrified child, full of wondering what would happen next. Her parents would act so happy in front of others with her, they would act so proud. But at home, they turned to the devils they always are. She is given too many chores that she has to complete all in one day. But she's grown accustomed to them, to work with no pay. She can do them all so fast, she has free time to do some running and reading and performing tricks no one ever sees on fences.

Poppy, when she was ten years old, found a small baby kitten in bad shape. It's ears were nicked deep and worms swarmed everywhere. But she took it in anyway, because she couldn't just let it bake in the summer sun. She somehow cured it with trial and error, though it was quite a miracle it didn't die. Her father hated cats, and Poppy had to hide it from him so he wouldn't know. Every night, after dinner, she has been saving extra for her secret pet, even though she was starving herself. Her parents aren't exactly the richest people in Ten, it's hard to support even three people. One day, her father found it, begging on the front porch for food. Poppy was about to go out for school when she heard screeches and ran back to her house. His big, meaty hands were holding down her poor kitty under water in a bucket. Poppy screamed and shoved him over, even though it meant quite the punishment. The cat escaped from his steal grasp. He was so angry at her, she showed up with bruises everywhere that day. She found her pet traumatized by everything, but it came to her with caution. This time she was careful. She made sure it was far, far away from her house every morning and every night, but the cat has probably learned it's lesson.

Poppy is now living, unloved by everyone, with only a lone cat to keep her company. She lives in a decaying shack with her strict parents and dinner coming in smaller proportions every day. She doesn't have much to do other than read or go outside or write or try to speak without stuttering. Sometimes it works, but it only works with phrases she uses numbers of times over. It keeps her plenty occupied, though. She wanders the outskirts of Ten all the time, discovering hideouts she wish she could just stay in. She still has never felt the real sensation of love, but would love to. She would love to feel needed. But, right now, there isn't much to go around.

-- and you will fly --



wc here

sydney sierota

Oh gosh don't kill me nothing came out like I wanted it to.

gaze at the stars
let the wind ruffle your hair
dance like no one is watching
life is so much better
living without a care

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[Dreams]

Finished!

[cass]

I think she turned out wonderful! <3

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