Shylan Maral: District 8

[thnksfrthjllybns]

Name: Shylan Maral
Age: 16
Gender: Male
District/Area: 8









Appearance:

  Shylan is "slightly under average height": ergo short. He stands at a meagre 5'5", a height he despises, but one which sometimes comes in use. He is wiry and flexible, able to fit through most gaps with comparative ease, but life in District 8 has not been kind on him. His hands bear many scars from mistakes on the sewing machines and his eyes, the colour of water under a sheet of ice, flick about quickly like the whirring of the shuttle, unable to stay focussed on much for long. His fingers are thin and nimble, often tracing the thread of sewing patters. 

   His face is developed, bony and gaunt. His nose is small and timid, not sticking out far at all. His face bears slight pockmarks from a disease which had once ravaged his community, but one which he had escaped without suffering as badly as many had. His rustic-brown hair is cut short and naturally slightly spiked, often behaving contrary to its owners wishes.

Personality:

      Shylan is rarely calm. Working in a factory for his life made him paranoid at everyone around him, and he always has to look over his shoulder. The few people who have earned his trust receive kindness and respect from him, and, as a complete opposite, he will divulge everything to them. Shylan also has a chip on his shoulder, and as a result is ruthlessly ambitious, sacrificing whatever or whoever he must to get to his goal.

Shylan’s height is his Achilles’ heel and he is more than protective about it. Growing up as the short kid makes you used to having to stand up for yourself and he is not unused to getting into tussles to earn respect. He does not mind being alone, as his pride forced most people making an attempt at friendship away. 
 
   Shylan has never had a girlfriend, or any sort of relationship with anyone. Always isolated he quickly learned that girls avoid the kids they won’t be accepted with and has never tried to explore that world. Often, after his shift, he climbs to the factory roof and looks out at his female co-workers leaving their own posts, admiring their beauty, lamenting what he’s lost.

History:

  Shylan was born on the outskirts of District 8, in one of the outlying villages close to the fence. He grew up in a family of Weavers, who make the clothes for their own District. His mother, Skyla O'Pran, was firm but fair, their relationship was not just of mother and son but of employer and worker, he respected her but deep down yearned to be loved as a son. His father, Donnal Maral, was the village's handyman, there was no-one in the village who hadn't called Donnal over to repair their roof or plug a hole in their wall. Due to this the family was popular and respected in the village.

  Then came the Plague. They didn't know where it had come from, people guessed the Peacekeepers-although they of course had got over it-but no-one knew. The symptoms were obvious, buboes, swelling as large as an apple, and sneezing. It was called the Week Plague, due to how long one had in between getting the symptoms and dying. Shylan's father caught the disease and died in agony, his mother also caught it but escaped with a price: she was unable to have children ever again.

   After the Week Plague his mother was barely able to keep her and the son alive. This was when they decided to move into the main city of District 8. Shylan, due to his small fingers and skill at weaving he was allotted the position of doing manual sewing without machines, doing the fine stitching for the Peacekeeper Officer's uniforms and for Capitol Dresses. Even without using the machines working in the factories was dangerous, and his hands became riddled with scars. Things became worse when his mother started to develope stiffness in her fingers (arthritis) and soon had to give up sewing completely. However, Shylan had an advantage he could use: when he had moved to the city his identity had been destroyed, no-one knew anything about him besides his name, and his records had been erased. So, at ten years old, he started taking tesserae out for the games to support the family.  
Codeword: oDair
Other:  Just a quick note: I got my image from Photobucket so I'm not sure of it's validity

[Sunrise Rainier D2 // [Thundy]]

Hi there! So, there are a few things that I need you to fix before your character can be accepted.

First, the face that you've picked for your character (Jensen Ackles) is already taken by somebody else. Please go consult the Face Claim while looking for another face.

Second, could you add more information to the appearance and personality sections? They're a bit too short, so try to think of more to add.

Third, his identity wouldn't have been erased just by moving somewhere else in the District. Plus, I don't know if what you'd call the central part of the District a 'city' and the outside parts 'villages' - while people might be spread out throughout the District, there's still one main square and it's still basically one community.

Once you're done fixing these things, post here to bump up the thread!

[thnksfrthjllybns]

Mar 6, 2014 1:22:41 GMT -5 thnksfrthjllybns said:

Name: Shylan Maral
Age: 16
Gender: Male
District/Area: 8



Appearance:

  Shylan is "slightly under average height": ergo short. He stands at a meagre 5'5", a height he despises, but one which sometimes comes in use. He is wiry and flexible, able to fit through most gaps with comparative ease, but life in District 8 has not been kind on him. His hands bear many scars from mistakes on the sewing machines and his eyes, the colour of water under a sheet of ice, flick about quickly like the whirring of the shuttle, unable to stay focussed on much for long. His fingers are thin and nimble, often tracing the thread of sewing patters. He ways approximately a hundred pounds.  

   His face is developed, bony and gaunt. His nose is small and timid, not sticking out far at all. His face bears slight pockmarks from a disease which had once ravaged his community, but one which he had escaped without suffering as badly as many had. His hair is, unlike the rest of his family, a light, almost bleached blonde, a feature which earned him curiosity among the communities. Miraculously, despite the hardship which he has been through he has only lost one tooth on the way, a molar at the back of his mouth. The rest are sparkling white despite lack of treatment. However, his skin is rough after hours sewing in the District and he is often muddy due to the road condition outside of the factories.

Personality:

      Shylan is rarely calm. Working in a factory for his life made him paranoid at everyone around him, and he always has to look over his shoulder. The few people who have earned his trust receive kindness and respect from him, and, as a complete opposite, he will divulge everything to them. Shylan also has a chip on his shoulder, and as a result is ruthlessly ambitious, sacrificing whatever or whoever he must to get to his goal. Materially he is selfish, rarely sharing food or lending tools or clothes, because he worries about how they would come to use in the hands of other, less capable, morons.

  Shylan’s height is his Achilles’ heel and he is more than protective about it. Growing up as the short kid makes you used to having to stand up for yourself and he is not unused to getting into tussles to earn respect. He does not mind being alone, as his pride forced most people making an attempt at friendship away, in fact he despises groups and what they represent. Shylan is also remarkably brave, not being afraid to stand up to anyone he thinks he could take in a fight and a few people who are stronger than him. However, the risks he take are usually calculated, he would never gamble if he had a lot to lose.
 
   Shylan has never had a girlfriend, or any sort of relationship with anyone. Always isolated he quickly learned that girls avoid the kids they won’t be accepted with and has never tried to explore that world. Often, after his shift, he climbs to the factory roof and looks out at his female co-workers leaving their own posts, admiring their beauty, lamenting what he’s lacks. Shylan is a poor judge of character, he sees people, especially women, for their worse qualities and is cynical about who they are underneath the masks they put up for society.

History:

  Shylan was born on the outskirts of District 8, in one of the outlying slums close to the fence. He grew up in a family of Weavers, who make the clothes for their own District. His mother, Skyla O'Pran, was firm but fair, their relationship was not just of mother and son but of employer and worker, he respected her but deep down yearned to be loved as a son. His father, Donnal Maral, was the village's handyman, there was no-one in the village who hadn't called Donnal over to repair their roof or plug a hole in their wall. Due to this the family was popular and respected in the quarter. His mother was wary of getting a job in the factories, having heard of the poor working conditions and the gory accidents which occurred there, and steered her son away from them.

  Then came the Plague. They didn't know where it had come from, people guessed the Peacekeepers-although they of course had got over it-but no-one knew. The symptoms were obvious, buboes, swelling as large as an apple, and sneezing. It was called the Week Plague, due to how long one had in between getting the symptoms and dying. The Maral family were one of the luckiest in the District when the Plague came, for they did not lose a single member of their family. However, both of Shylan's parents caught it and survived with dreadful consequences: his father was unable to walk after a buboe forced his spine out of place and his mother was unable to have children. 

   After the Week Plague his mother was barely able to keep her and her family son alive. This was when they decided to get a job in the clothes factories District 8. Shylan, due to his small fingers and skill at weaving he was allotted the position of doing manual sewing without machines, doing the fine stitching for the Peacekeeper Officer's uniforms and for Capitol Dresses. Even without using the machines working in the factories was dangerous, and his hands became riddled with scars. Things became worse when his mother started to develope stiffness in her fingers (arthritis) and soon had to give up sewing completely. However, Shylan had an advantage he could use: his twelfth birthday had arrived and, from then, he had taken out tesserae for the Hunger Games.

Codeword: oDair

Attachments:

[thnksfrthjllybns]

Oh god, sorry about that, for some reason I must have done a whole reply rather than a simple edit.

[Baby Wessex d9b [earthling]]

ACCEPTED!