Aloes Lumiere, D1
Aug 23, 2016 2:45:24 GMT -5
Post by Sleepy Fluttershy on Aug 23, 2016 2:45:24 GMT -5
![](http://assets-prod.harpersbazaar.co.uk/people-and-parties/nell-hudson-square.jpg)
Faceclaim: Nell Hudson
Name: Aloes Lumiere (Al/Als/Allie... Whatever you want to call her)
Age: 16
Gender: female
Career
Career
District/Area: District 1
Appearance:
One-two-three-four...
"A thin pale girl is running on and on, her golden-blond hair shining in the bloody-purple sunset. The wind is blowing in her face and her piercing-blue eyes stare determinedly into the darkness..." Well, it's not completely dark here, actually, but that last phrase sounded more romantic this way. Nevermind. It's just me, jogging around the district in the evening and thinking foolish things. They are not that foolish to me, but if others know what kinds of ideas pop up in my head sometimes, they'll seriously think I'm a freak, which I most certainly am (deep inside, of course). Today I was thinking what being a writer feels like and trying to compose a few sentences. I didn't know what to describe, so, obviously, I started with myself running. It sounded good... But it didn't feel like a real me.
One-two-three-four...
I'm counting my steps to concentrate on what I'm doing and avoid bumping into someone...
Maybe, something there was true. Take my hair, for example. It really is blond, maybe even golden-blond a little. I'm thin and skinny, though not small, And my skin is really pale, sometimes almost white, like a blank sheet of paper. But my eyes... They are piercing blue (and grey a little bit), deep set and often staring at something. However, I wouldn't say the stare is determined, it's rather serious, thoughtful and absent-minded at the same time. Together with my lips, which are pursed most of the time (sometimes my mouth just opens by itself, mostly if something interrupts my thoughts, but I don't let it happen too often) and my eyebrows (high arching and thin, they give me a surprised look), it makes me look strange for a quick and unbeatable Career, which I always tried so hard to become.
Personality:
One-two-three-four...
No one can be unbeatable, but one can be the best amongst others. It requires a lot of hard work, aching muscles, sweat and blood. Despite suffering all these things, I am still not the best, but at least damn good at fighting. I never thought about trying it anytime except for the training hours, though, because it just feels wrong to hurt someone without a good reason. Probably that's why I'm much better at running long distances and shooting. It is one of my deepest concerns, actually, because I know that I'm not the Hunger Games type, for sure, but nobody will ever forget if I don't take a chance to volunteer as tribute or have someone volunteer for me. I just hope I will never get anywhere near being reaped. Every time I see someone kill their fellow tribute in the Games, my heart stops.
One-two-three-four...
Life in all its forms seems so precious and fragile to me, that I believe it's not for the humans to destroy. I often think about life when I observe a flower by the road or the sky. Flowers are one of my weaknesses. I honestly can't pass by without throwing a quick glance at them. They look just as unique and mysterious as people do. They live, grow and enjoy the sunlight, presenting everyone with joy and happiness... Well, not everyone, only me. I look around and notice it's almost dark already, time to return home. What was I thinking? Time to stop being childish. No matter how hard I scold myself, I'll never get rid of this habit to stare right in front of me and think about something absolutely useless, from a rational point of view. I've always tried to be more disciplined, wear smart clothes, keep my things in perfect order and never abandon accuracy. But I couldn't stop dreaming all the time, often in the most inappropriate places...
One-two-three-four...
This is the reason of my liking for the stars, probably. Everyone says they're not living creatures and they are right, but the way they blink high above my head I know charms me. I can spend hours sitting on the windowsill and looking at them, thinking about a lot of things, remembering what happened earlier. I think about Bumpy often, for instance, and when it happens, I feel like he's still right here, beside me.
History:
One-two-three-four...
Bumpy was, perhaps, the best friend I've ever had. He was a stray dog I picked up in the street after he literally bumped into me. He must have had problems with his eyesight, because he always bumped into something or someone. That's where his name came from. I can still recall the memories of him amusing me by playing around the house, licking my hands, waking me up in the morning, barking happily all the time. Bumpy always knew, how to cheer me up, how to comfort me. He died two years after I took him, probably because of some illness. I couldn't find myself another puppy and I never will, I suppose. I won't stand any dog jumping around the house, it will always be a sad reminder of my wrecked friendship. And maybe my family wouldn't be really amused by the idea of a new doggy barking mad at five o'clock every morning.
One-two-three-four...
I don't know if they were opposed to me keeping Bumpy or not, though. I just never asked. I brought him in, said he was my dog and led him to my room where he settled for the rest of his short life (except for the time when we went out for a walk) without making contact with anybody. I'm not that different, really. I like people, but I like watching, observing them more than communicating. I put a lot of effort into acting cool and casual, even flirting (absolutely hate this part of my everyday life) when I'm not at home, but when I come back, there's no use in pretending I'm somebody else, so I prefer to keep the distance between me and everyone.
One-two-three-four...
I never liked the idea of being close to anyone, because I would have to spill all my dark secrets out. I had started being very secretive when I was still a child and had my first dream I couldn't forget about. You'll never guess, how foolish it was... I dreamed of being a fairytale princess, wearing a pink dress and looking fashionable, like a Capitol citizen. I was so afraid my friends would laugh at me, that I never told them about it. I tend to be a terrible liar, so I tried to prevent myself from letting anyone know about my dreams and thoughts. In front of my "friends" I can pretend to be crazy, strong and hot, but I am all worn out and not able to control myself when I come home, so I just keep silent.
Other: I don't drink alcohol and don't date anybody, because I don't want anything in this universe to make real me as crazy and careless as the fake me is.