Re: Gerya Keeni -- District 6

[chaseee]

Well, you've got the Perfect disguise and you're lookin' o.k.
From the bottom of the best of the worst, well what can I say?
Cuz you cocked your head to shoot me down
And I don't give a damn about you or this town no more
No, but I know the score

Need me to fall down, so you can climb up
Some fool ass ladder, well good luck
I hope, I hope there's something better up there
Cuz you cocked your head to shoot me down

And I don't give a damn about you or this town no more
No cuz I know the score
broke my back, broke my back, broke my back

Name: My full name is Gerya Keeni {Jer-i-a}, but you may call me Jer.
Age: I am fourteen years, and two months old. My birthday is 7/12/??
Gender: Female!
District/Area: District Six


Appearance:

I have never thought of myself as looking particularly good-looking, although I have been told my face holds a certain natural beauty. Perfectly chiseled cheek bones. Flawless skin. Dainty freckles clumped around my nose. It gives me the appearance of someone who laughs when someone breakes wind. Who stiffles a giggle when someone says "balls."

My head, although not perfect, has a nice oval-shape. My chin juts out farther than it is supposed too, but it gives me a nice stubborn look, which I am fairly proud of. My ears, being rather small, are barely visible when veiwed from the front. Both have been peirced (by my hand) and hold diamond studded earrings, hand-made by the crafters of District One, a luxury most would not be able to afford.

My hair is a radiant orange-red color. Even if not natural, it corresponds with my features very well. My original hair color, a dull brown, reminded me of mud, and it brought my looks down a notch, which I did not like at all. So I visited my neighbor (who happened to know a few things about hair), and requested a dye-job.
The length is astounding. Over four years neglecting to trim off a few inches, it has grown rather long. Currently, it hangs only a few centimeters past my buttocks. I love the way it swishes around my body when I walk. How when a particularly strong gust of wind blows around me, the think locks are brought up, and wave behind me like a flag.

Eyes! The window to the soul! Well, if this were true, they would be a crimson color. Like the blood that... well that's a different story. My real ones, however, are rather unusual themselves. The one on the right is a hazel, with flecks of chocolate brown. The left, however, is a brown, flecked with hazel-gold. I have been told that they are simply astounding. That they are very flattering, some have said. They lie. I, myself, beleive they are the ugliest things I have ever seen. They are unique, of course, but sometimes that is not always good, in my opinion. The fact that they are both opposites disturbs me. Why, out of all the people in Panem, must I be cursed with this unusual oddity?

Ah, noses. It's quite funny, really, that the one thing people care about the least, has turned out the best on my face. In fact, it's shape is damn near perfect (which is about the only thing, on this face of mine). It's nice and skinny, making a little curve down my face, ending right above my nose. The tip rounds off a bit, but not so much as to make it unnatractive. Although the means of which I take care of it do. For example; there is almost always a few hairs poking out of both nostrils (remind me to get those trimmed, will ya?), and there is more often than not a single golden nugget lodged up there.

My mouth honestly isn't that interesting. It goes up it goes down, the lip goes around, and then we're done. The arches at the top go a little higher than most, but with a nose as purdy as mine, there is bound to be some disfigure on my face. They are almost never chapped or sore, due to me always making sure there is always a fine layer of chapstick on them, and I am careful not to lick my lips too often in the freezing cold of Winter.

Ooo, now we're getting to the good part. My torso is very shapely, for an eighteen-year-old. My curves are to die for (yes, I have been told this), and my bottom sticks out a good couple inches from the rest of my body, making me eversoproud. I am happy that some of my clothes from three years ago are finally deciding to become too small for my frame (for growing purposes, I am not gaining weight!), and I am looking more mature than I was a while back.

And now, clothes. I have been told girls are meant to love them. That we are supposed to relish in the soft fabrics of skirts and spaghetti-strapped tops. Yeah, well no thanks. I usually deem faded jeans (as long as they're tight-tight-tight!) and graphic tee-shirts worthy of my body. But then again, I sometimes find myself dressing up. So, maybe the fabric I cover my skin with isn't so worthless after all?

Personality:

Alright, so out of appearance and into... how I act? Well, this a whole new topic altogether. I can tell you one thing though. It isn't pretty.

So, yeah, I started out a little angel and all of that shit, and worked my way to demon-status. Nice one, Gerya. Well, I guess it all started when my parents had their little split when I was a baby. I had found out listening through a crack in the door when my father came into my room at night and... well yeah, that's a whole 'nother story. I guess after that, I just sorta spiraled out of control. Went insane. You know, the usual.

I learned when I was eleven years that I was immortal. I would never die. (See other.) Of course, I still aged. I forced myself to. If I hadn't I would certainly be taken to one of those high-tech labs and be tested on and junk. Especially considering where I live? Not good. So I kept it a secret. Especially from my homcidal brother, Bear. Creep.

But that's just the tip of the crazy iceburg. I also hear/see dead people. I'm not lying, ya know. One time, my best friend was killed by some crazy axe murderer (I love axes, don't you?), and she came back to me that night. Mhm. So I discovered I can see dead people and the like.

I have been told I am like my brother. Homicidal. Scary. Insane. But, who cares? I may be all of the above, but it doesn't change a thing. So what if I go around chopping off people's arms, and heads. I would still be the lovable girl I am today. My dad told me so.

Who do I see when I look in the mirror? (Other than myself!) I see someone who's kind, and compassionate. Caring. I love many things, including animals, which is why I would hate to have been born in 10. Eesh! I am slightly rebellious against my parents, but who wouldn't be? Your mother being a prostitute and your father spending all his time at a good-for-nothing lab doing who-knows-what. So, naturally, I do everything I can to set them off.

---

Gerya thinks she is a sugary angel, but she's not. Once you meet her, you kinda get the whiff that there's something... troubling going on in that girl's head. She is a total bitch to people she has not met, and has not heard of, and she can get a bit controlative at times.

She thinks she is immortal, due to her father once telling her he would never let her die, when she brought up the subject of the possibility of her being Reaped. Thus, the immortality. Also, the dead people thing, is a symptom of Schizophrenia. When she greives (or doesn't depending on the person) that person pops up. She talks to the hallucination, and it talks back.

All in all, Gerya is a manipulative, crazy bitch out to kill anyone in her way. Reminds me of a certain sibling...

History:

I was born four years after my older brother, Bear. I had always seen myself as the mature one though. While he was out, eating dead women, I was at home finishing my homework. Of course, the answers were all wrong on purpose as an act of rebellion against my parents, but hey. I did it all the same.

My parents split when I was four months old. My mother was not ready for the responsibility of two children, therefor, she ran from my father in the middle of the night (only after getting her nightly screw, though).

I guess you could say I had a rough childhood. A careless mother. An abusive father. A creepy brother. But I never noticed. My daddy was my daddy, even if he whipped me daily for saying the wrong thing. Even if he tried to covince me to go in the broom closet with him. Even if my brother kept sneaking out, and ignoring me completely. Who cares? I had a loving family, and that's all that mattered.

I was eleven when Bear met Cassandra. I had liked the girl. She was nice to me, and occasionally brought me a plate of cookies her mom had made for her. But then she just... dissapeared. I can't really explain how I found out my brother had something to with it. Maybe the countless nights spent spying on hims through the keyhole of his bedroom door. Maybe it was because I always followed him when he left the house. But somehow, I figured out my brother had ate the girl of his dreams.

My brother was a cannibal, and my life was falling apart. My cousin had been Reaped, too, and died. But who cares? He hadn't. My brother ate human flesh.
I thought of telling my father, but I had thought of all the things Bear could do to me if he had found out I knew. Torture. Death. Eaten alive. It was terrifying. I had told no one.

So I left it alone, and talked to the dead people. Cassandra had shown up quite a few times, swearing revenge. Bear got a job at the morgue. I couldn't stand the thought of him near lifeless bodies. They couldn't fight back. I was immortal. I blocked Bear out entirely. I talked to the dead more and more often, even more of them turning up. I began to suspect they were more of Bear's helpless victims. Oh well.

I am Gerya, and I am special.

Codeword: <img src="http://i41.tinypic.com/16h2ibt.png">
Comments/Other:

Color = CC5252
Some events and disorders are fuzzy in her perspective, since she is rather idiotic and can not tell her finger from her toe.

[Deleted]