Pandora Stone - D1 | Hunger Games: The RPG

Pandora Stone - D1 Jul 6, 2014 19:01:55 GMT -5

Post by arya on Jul 6, 2014 19:01:55 GMT -5

Name: Pandora "Puck" Stone

Age: 17 years old

District: One

Codeword: Odair

They say I was born on a breezy night, when the stars shone brighter like pearls high up in the dark winter skies resting over Panem. The story that has been told says I entered the world with a face as perfect as a doll, with even skin as soft as silk and thick blonde hair covering my skull. They claim that I was a baby as beautiful as I was born of angels themselves, but my passing to this world came to be the downfall of my graceful story. The family that welcomed me into this world with all the love and appreciation they could find in their shallow, cruel hearts. They had waiting for years to have a baby, so naturally they were thrilled at my birth. What I didn’t know then was that they wanted to train me, to shape me into one of them. My parents were filthy traitors, who spent years and years denying the capitol as the true and rightful power. The life they had planned for me was to be their little puppet, who they could raise as one of them. Luckily, peacekeepers – bless their hearts – caught them in action. Needless to say, they were made avoxes and put to serve the capitol for the safety and comfort of our beloved, beautiful nation. A part of me hopes they can make up for their sins and once again be offered the possibility to accept the capitols generous care into their hearts. I would never even dare to speak those words in front of my new parents, they would tell me I am just a silly little girl with big dreams for lost cases, my parents are mad filthy traitors. I know that, yet I still wish to cleanse my name and my ancestry.

As you might have understood by know, when my parents were captured I was put into fostercare. Thank the ripred that the courageous guardians of our nation decided to bash our door open and collect me, even if it was at great personal risk. They found me, just a defenseless child still crying in my crib. I only had to spend a few weeks as an orphan, before my generous and lovely adoptive parents picked me up. Much unlike the couple that gave birth to me, they turned out to be decent people. That they even considered about adopting me, a daughter of two traitors shows what caring and selfless souls they have. They couldn’t bear to see an as lost case as me, a child of those filthy traitors who had been brainwashed with my birth parents rebellious propaganda from the second of my birth to later on be left as an orphan. I never really knew what my parents did to support these crazy ideas of a rebellion, my new parent prefer not to talk about my past, they say that the details are none to be spoken of to a child. I might be better of without knowing, since I must have oppressed those earily memories for a reason. All I know is that they participated in some form of plot that was meant to promote a rebellion. Anyways, my life was bound to turn out to a sad story due to the brainwash my parents had fed me, yet my parents saved me. If it weren't for them I would be more or less incapable of turning into anything else than an ignorant, foolish traitor just like my birth parents. My adoptive parents refused seeing that happen in front of their own eyes, not only for my but also of our great nations sake.

As mentioned eariler, my life came to a turning point when my new parents adopted me. They taught me all about our world and our history, about how the districts had betrayed the capitol, our generous and beloved protector, whom we just stabbed in the back, just like that. So, considering that, it isn’t too surprising how the capitol feels about us now. Due to their generosity and undeserved love for us District citizens, they found it in their hearts to forgive us. Many see the Hungergames as a punishment for our behavior, but I see it as a token of gratitude for their never ending magnanimity. It wasn’t so much of an decision for me to become a career, it has always been my faith somehow. I want to thank the capitol for their gratitude towards not only me personally but also my people. I want to bring pride and dignity to District one and show capitol that we are capable of change, that we appreciate what they have done for us and never would dare, or even wish upon turning our back upon them again.

I was put into training instantly by my foster parents as fast as I came of age. The first years of training were rather challaging for me. I never knew what to say on my interviews, I always seemed to get in fights with other trainees, outside of training. I always seemed to fail, not only outside of training but in it aswell. It was so disturbing, so disappointing. It wasn’t very surprising though, since I came from traitor blood. The disappointment was unconditional, not only to me but also to my parents. I wanted to show them that I would do anything in my way to defeat my inheritance and once and for all prove myself worthy of their love and care. It took quite a while before I managed improving at all. Most likely, I will never be perfect, but according to my own judgement, I’ve come quite a bit. By each day, I get a little better. When or even if the fortune truly smiles upon me, I will be able to participate and maybe even win the games. Then, the capitol and my foster parents will forgive me for both mine and my parents sins and I will have deserved to be treated as an equal. I will prove myself as a loyal and worthy citizen of Panem.

As I grew a bit older, about 8 years of age I must have been when I first opened my eyes for love. I fell head over heals for a young boy in my class. He was just gorgeous, with brown curls and big brown eyes. I don’t think he ever even noticed me, but how I could dream of those eyes. I never approached him, since I was very shy back then. Once, in the playground I remember him giving me a simply gaze, our eyes only locked for a few seconds, still my heart felt like it was about to jump up my throat. It raced as never before. Ever since I’ve been a true sucker for love. I am a passionate, unconditional romantic. I can find myself fantasizing for hours about my knight in white armor. Sometimes, it’s a sad story. At times, I even imagine myself meeting the my other half in the games. In my fantasy, our love is so tender and unconditional. Naturally, the beautiful love story bound to come to an dreadful and misfortunate end. Occasionally, we are both slain together as we hold each other’s hands, we drag ourselves thorugh dirt and blood, just to taste each other’s lips one last time. Our faith will be tragic and the biggest sacrifice of them all to the capitol. All my made up love stories aren’t as sorrow filled and bittersweet as that one but they all got one thing in common – they are all silly fantasies.

I don’t know why I can’t seem to find love. It's not even that I can't seem to find the right one, I can't seem to find anyone. I’m not ugly, I would even dare claiming the opposite. I’m rather beautiful. My hair is long, it gets bleached by the sun in the summer but even in the darkest of winters it stays honey blonde. My eyes are the same color as the leaves when they finally bloom after a long winter, and surrounding it is a dark, almost brown circle framing the leaf green iris. My cheekbones are marked, but still not hollow as the children you can see from the lower districts which makes the shapes of my face really stand out. The family I was adopted by is quite rich, so I never had to hunger. My body is properly built for a girl my age, I am neither too fat or too skinny, and my womanly parts has blossomed out years ago.

Could it be that my eyes are too far apart? Maybe, it is because of the fact that my teeth are too big? It could be that my nose is to narrow. My lips are probably too big, they don’t fit in my face and has bothered me for long, ever since my foster father pointed it out years ago. He and my adoptive mother has always been complaining about my height. They say I’m too short, that real beauties are taller. That’s why I always wear high heels, so I’ll be one to be noticed. Since I was a child, I’ve been taught to move gracefully. As it turns out, I’m not the most elegant individual. My adoptive mother is the most classy, magnificent person I have ever come to meet, yet her tries to teach me the same delicacy has been doomed to instant failure. They tend to end the same way, with her signing loudly and claiming that I simply am my birth parents daughter and cannot be ever be taught even the most simple manners. Those words doesn’t only offend me but also, they make me furious. I am not my parents daughter, I am not a filthy traitor and I’ll die proving it if I have to.

Perhaps, it’s my personality that keeps scaring all the potential partners away. When I first started school, I was bullied. Not bullied in the way that they were pushing my head down in the toilet or beating me with sticks. No, the other children kept calling me crazy, or if I recall correctly the nickname they frequently used was ‘nuthead Puck’. I knew right away that I am no nuthead. To assure myself, I asked my adoptive parents who repeatedly confirmed my assumptions. After observing the other children interacting with their parents, I came to the conclusion that many of my fellow citizens are what we in my family call “closet-traitors”. They are just as foolish and simpleminded as my birth parents, but they aren’t even courageous enough to act on it or express their treachery. Those kind of traitors are the scariest ones, because they will always remain in our society, hidden and protected by the society that loves and protects them. After quite some time, I learned to handle all sort of characters, even the traitors. At that point, I was in serious need of some friends. Luckily, my change of heart provided me with that. I grew from that point, and ever since I’ve been a rather outgoing and social person.

I always knew that their taunts were just stupid, without even the slightest truth hiding inside it. But, I still learned how to hide the part of me that what was considered to be ‘crazy’. I just needed to be observant, to see what people were looking for in friends. In that way, I managed making myself an often important and by my own conclusions skilled person in social events. Even as a child, I have always been sharpminded. For me, the fact that I am rather observant has constantly seemed to provide me with perspective on personal or social issues. According to me, that is a most important ability in socializing.

Once, I’ve been accused of being naïve. It was by my bestfriend at the time, just after I had told her the story about my filthy traitor parents. She said I had to question the capitol propaganda my adoptive parents had fed me. I grew furious once I realized that she was just like them, a filthy traitor. I beat her bloody, afterwards, I was rather ashamed about that. It's not praticularly classy to be violent. I was furious with her, offending me like that after telling her such a personal, private story. Even despite my anger, I couldn’t find it in my heart to turn her in to the peacekeepers, even if I knew it was the right thing to do. She would have gotten the proper punishment she deserved, but I am weak like that. I must have gotten that characteristic from my birth parents. I decided to end the relationship between us. I have to remain true to the Capitol so I won’t turn into a traitor myself. I know where my loyalties lie and I will forever be loyal to my one and only protector.

Panem today, Panem tomorrow, Panem forever.