Post by issaquah on Oct 31, 2018 20:42:58 GMT -5
(Dont mind me coming in with another hot wip kid)
Pepper Jolokia, 15, District 11
Gender:
Female
Appearance:
Pepper’s skin is a deep mahogany, and her hair is thick, slightly curly, and incredibly short - it doesn’t even make it past her ears. (This is for good reason, of course - when she was younger, she watched a girl get her hair caught in some machinery. She ended up losing her nose and some fingers while trying to rip her hair out of the cogs and coils.)
Her eyes are a deep black, and her emotions channel primarily and fluidly through them.
Her facial features are sharp and thin, but she’s (in contrast) one of the kindest, warmest, and most welcoming people you’ll ever meet.
Personality:
You know the kid you meet when you’re younger, who’s already thinking about things bigger than themselves, even though they just started to learn how to write a year ago? Pepper’s that kid. She’s always pecking where she shouldn’t, for knowledge of the times before the Games, before the Dark Days, and before Panem. Philosophy is one of the things that keep her tethered while working beside her brothers and baby sister in the harsh, hot fields of her district.
She’s lost too much sleep staying up at nights, thinking about what else could be past her bedroom, her home, her district, the fields-past even the great blue sky.
She’s well known around her area of 11 for constantly falling asleep when working in the orchards and doing her best to watch over the younger kids, making sure they bandage any cuts or wounds and keeping them out of trouble with the Peacekeepers.
History:
Shortly after Pepper was born, her mother was caught by one of her brother’s having an affair with one of the richer residents of their district. Upon being found out, she decided to try and flee from the shame of it all - she was quickly and easily caught by Peacekeepers and publicly beaten to death.
As a toddler she never saw her dad a lot - he was either too busy drinking while holed up in his room at night, or stuck in a warehouse trying to keep count of all of Eleven’s harvests.
