winnie crossway {five} finished
Jan 22, 2017 22:20:04 GMT -5
Post by solo on Jan 22, 2017 22:20:04 GMT -5
WINNIE CROSSWAY
Basics:
When I was born, it took my parents a long time to think of a name for me. They had never planned on having kids, and I was basically an accident. That's okay though, because they both love me now, and I think of myself as a little surprise to the rest of the world. Eventually they settled on Winnie Crossway, after some grandmother I never met. You wouldn't believe it, but I'm 16 years old, almost 17. I've always looked much younger than I am. My parents and I live in District 5, along with my younger sister, Charlotte.
Appearance:
I have always looked a few years younger than I really am. I'm just below average height, maybe 5' 2", and kind of skinny. I've always had a flat chest, which I think is part of the reason I look so young. My skin is a dark, chocolatey brown, my hair frizzy and black. I try to keep it under control by pulling it back into one or two braids, but sometimes that doesn't work. Sometimes I like to let it hang loose and poof up around my head, although it can get in the way when I'm trying to do schoolwork.
I'm mostly made up of legs, despite being kind of short. My torso is proportionally small compared to the rest of me. I used to be good at running and climbing, but then the power plant incident happened, and I've had a limp in my left leg ever since. It's not too bad when I'm walking, and I don't get tired faster than anyone else, but it's a problem when it comes to running and climbing. My hands are long and thin, my right thumb twisted at a bit of an odd angle, and a long scar running up the back of it. I'll tell you what happened later. I have a habit of cracking my knuckles, which mom says is bad for them, but I haven't stopped.
My face is small and kind of heart-shaped, my teeth healthy and straight. My lips are a shade pinker than the rest of me. I've got a snub nose, weak eyebrows, and almost-black eyes that are slightly bigger than most.Dad says I have a friendly face, innocent at even. That's probably part of the reason I look so young.
My clothing style is simple, mostly made up of jeans and a nice brown leather jacket that I wear whenever I leave the house. I like plain shirts, nothing too colorful, usually darker shades like black and brown. Occasionally something like a navy blue or brown-red. I really like dresses, but they're kind of expensive, so I only have a single strapless one that I like to wear when it's warmer.
Personality:
I'm happy to tell you I'm a fairly interesting person, at least in my opinion. Hopefully I'm entertaining enough to keep you interested.
First off, I'd consider myself to be on the extroverted end of the social spectrum. I love talking to new people, I'm good at making friends, I think I'm pretty easy to talk to. That's probably because I do most of the talking. I'm really good at holding up a conversation, you know? I guess I don't have many strong friendships, but I'm acquaintances or surface friends with pretty much anyone I've ever come across, and that's a lot of people.
Ever since I was little, I have loved the outdoors. Being in District Five can make that a little difficult at times, but you know, I get by alright. There's a teeny tiny patch of forest near the fence that I like to play in, and it's a really good spot for collecting bugs. Live ones anyways. The dead ones are much more common in the power plants, especially around winter.
Oh yeah, I guess you should probably know that I like collecting bugs. Dead ones, anyways. It started when I was seven or eight and we dissected these huge dragonflies in a science class. They weren't real, just plastic ones, but after that I started to get interested in anatomy and collecting dead bugs. Sure, it's a little weird, but you know what, I have fun. My dad brings home unused pieces of styrofoam from the factory he works at, I snatch some pins from my mom's sewing kit, and then I stab 'em and stick 'em on the styrofoam. I've got quite the collection. One square for bees and hornets, one for moths and butterflies, one for various kinds of fleas and ticks...you know, stuff like that. Unfortunately I have no way of naming them all properly, so I can't label anything. I just think they look cool.
Let's see here...what else is interesting about me? Ah, I know! I have a penpal down the street who I've never spoken to. Weird, right? It's fun though. The only reason I don't talk to her is because then I'd lose my penpal, and that would be extremely unfortunate. She's my age, and her name is Heather. When I was little, I put identical letters in all the mailboxes along the street, asking if anyone wanted to be my penpal. I got three responses, but the other two were older people, and they eventually got bored. Heather and I have been sending letters back and forth ever since then. I'd say she's probably my best friend at this point.
Now, there's a few other weird things about me. I use the word weird a lot, if you haven't noticed, mostly because it's a great way to describe who I am. An oddball. A black shoe. The-one-not-like-the-others. Anyways, I've always been afraid of dogs. Well, not always, because it started at some point when I was younger. I'll get to that point in my history though. I don't panic when I see one, but I certainly don't trust them, and I like to keep my distance, you know? I'm also afraid of nosebleeds, which I guess is a little weird, but so is everything else about me. There's just so much blood. You'd think I'd be afraid of bi cuts as well, but that's not the case. The thing is, with cut, you can see the source of the bleeding and stop it. With nosebleeds on the other hand, you can't exactly see the source, and you kinda just have to sit there and wait it out. I've never gotten one myself, but I've seen my friends get a few, and it always scares the living daylights out of me.
This one is not-so-weird, but I'm also a picky eater. Thankfully my family is fairly well off in the district, so we're able to afford food that I like. No eggs, no fish, no asparagus. Just little things like that. I hate it when the food on my plate touches, and I really don't like eating anything that's mixed together. I'm not a big fan of sauce either. My parents tried to work the habit out of my when I was little, but as you can see, it didn't work very well.
When I was ten or so we found out I was allergic to strawberries. It was my birthday, and my parents had saved enough money to buy some along with a bit of chocolate from the market. They melted it, dipped the strawberries in, and then froze them overnight. I had a few friends over, ate a few strawberries, and suddenly I was covered in hives. It was awful and they didn't go away all day. My parents rarely bought strawberries in the first place, but I haven't seen any in the house since then.
The last thing I can think of is that I've always had a terrible sense of direction. Let me loose in the district square, and you probably won't see me for another two or three hours. I usually have to ask for a directions, which I don't mind doing, since I love talking to people. Everyone knows me pretty well at this point, and I find it hilarious when people greet me with, "Are you lost again, Winnie?"
History:
Well, I was born in District 5, six years before my little sister. I was my parent's first child, and as I said earlier, I was an accident. At the time, they couldn't afford to add a third person to the family, because my dad was the only one working. But since they had me, they got a little extra money from the Capitol, and mom got a job as soon as I was able to go to school. After that we were pretty well off, and they realized how much they loved having a kid, so they had another. They named her Alba, after the other grandmother I'd never met. She's ten now, and loads of fun to be around. She likes collecting snake skins when we go to that little patch of woods together.
Anyways, I had my encounter with the dog when I was four, before Alba was born. I don't remember it very well, but mom says I tried petting one of the Peacekeeper's dogs in the middle of a whipping, and it bit me pretty hard. That's where I got the nifty little scar on my hand.
The accident at the power plant happened when I was seven. Mom was out later than planned with some friends, so dad had to bring Alba and I to his work. He left us in one of the offices to play, but of course I wouldn't stay put. I wandered out near some loose electric wires, and I got a nasty shock against my leg when I walked past them. Dad tells me I blacked out. I don't remember much of it, but I remember some guy who used to be a doctor waking me up. He told me my leg was going to hurt for a while, that I shouldn't walk on that, and that I'd probably have a limp. Something about damaging the nerves in my leg. The skin there has been a little darker than the rest of me ever since, and that's where I got my limp. I guess I'm pretty accident-prone.
Other than that, my life has been pretty simple. Alba started going to school, I learned how to walk with a limp, I got really good in biology and science, started collecting bugs. We've never moved, mostly because we don't need to, but also because I doubt we could afford it. My parents have always had a good relationship with us. When I was little, my mom would sing a song and my dad would tell me a story before bed. I'm too old for that now, but they do it with Alba. She likes it I think. I've kept up my letter-writing with Heather, although, as I said, I've never actually spoken to her. Mom says that something exciting is bound to happen to us soon, since we all share such a boring life. But I like my life the way it is, and I hope it stays this way.
Face Claim:
Shailyne Pierre-Dixon
When I was born, it took my parents a long time to think of a name for me. They had never planned on having kids, and I was basically an accident. That's okay though, because they both love me now, and I think of myself as a little surprise to the rest of the world. Eventually they settled on Winnie Crossway, after some grandmother I never met. You wouldn't believe it, but I'm 16 years old, almost 17. I've always looked much younger than I am. My parents and I live in District 5, along with my younger sister, Charlotte.
Appearance:
I have always looked a few years younger than I really am. I'm just below average height, maybe 5' 2", and kind of skinny. I've always had a flat chest, which I think is part of the reason I look so young. My skin is a dark, chocolatey brown, my hair frizzy and black. I try to keep it under control by pulling it back into one or two braids, but sometimes that doesn't work. Sometimes I like to let it hang loose and poof up around my head, although it can get in the way when I'm trying to do schoolwork.
I'm mostly made up of legs, despite being kind of short. My torso is proportionally small compared to the rest of me. I used to be good at running and climbing, but then the power plant incident happened, and I've had a limp in my left leg ever since. It's not too bad when I'm walking, and I don't get tired faster than anyone else, but it's a problem when it comes to running and climbing. My hands are long and thin, my right thumb twisted at a bit of an odd angle, and a long scar running up the back of it. I'll tell you what happened later. I have a habit of cracking my knuckles, which mom says is bad for them, but I haven't stopped.
My face is small and kind of heart-shaped, my teeth healthy and straight. My lips are a shade pinker than the rest of me. I've got a snub nose, weak eyebrows, and almost-black eyes that are slightly bigger than most.Dad says I have a friendly face, innocent at even. That's probably part of the reason I look so young.
My clothing style is simple, mostly made up of jeans and a nice brown leather jacket that I wear whenever I leave the house. I like plain shirts, nothing too colorful, usually darker shades like black and brown. Occasionally something like a navy blue or brown-red. I really like dresses, but they're kind of expensive, so I only have a single strapless one that I like to wear when it's warmer.
Personality:
I'm happy to tell you I'm a fairly interesting person, at least in my opinion. Hopefully I'm entertaining enough to keep you interested.
First off, I'd consider myself to be on the extroverted end of the social spectrum. I love talking to new people, I'm good at making friends, I think I'm pretty easy to talk to. That's probably because I do most of the talking. I'm really good at holding up a conversation, you know? I guess I don't have many strong friendships, but I'm acquaintances or surface friends with pretty much anyone I've ever come across, and that's a lot of people.
Ever since I was little, I have loved the outdoors. Being in District Five can make that a little difficult at times, but you know, I get by alright. There's a teeny tiny patch of forest near the fence that I like to play in, and it's a really good spot for collecting bugs. Live ones anyways. The dead ones are much more common in the power plants, especially around winter.
Oh yeah, I guess you should probably know that I like collecting bugs. Dead ones, anyways. It started when I was seven or eight and we dissected these huge dragonflies in a science class. They weren't real, just plastic ones, but after that I started to get interested in anatomy and collecting dead bugs. Sure, it's a little weird, but you know what, I have fun. My dad brings home unused pieces of styrofoam from the factory he works at, I snatch some pins from my mom's sewing kit, and then I stab 'em and stick 'em on the styrofoam. I've got quite the collection. One square for bees and hornets, one for moths and butterflies, one for various kinds of fleas and ticks...you know, stuff like that. Unfortunately I have no way of naming them all properly, so I can't label anything. I just think they look cool.
Let's see here...what else is interesting about me? Ah, I know! I have a penpal down the street who I've never spoken to. Weird, right? It's fun though. The only reason I don't talk to her is because then I'd lose my penpal, and that would be extremely unfortunate. She's my age, and her name is Heather. When I was little, I put identical letters in all the mailboxes along the street, asking if anyone wanted to be my penpal. I got three responses, but the other two were older people, and they eventually got bored. Heather and I have been sending letters back and forth ever since then. I'd say she's probably my best friend at this point.
Now, there's a few other weird things about me. I use the word weird a lot, if you haven't noticed, mostly because it's a great way to describe who I am. An oddball. A black shoe. The-one-not-like-the-others. Anyways, I've always been afraid of dogs. Well, not always, because it started at some point when I was younger. I'll get to that point in my history though. I don't panic when I see one, but I certainly don't trust them, and I like to keep my distance, you know? I'm also afraid of nosebleeds, which I guess is a little weird, but so is everything else about me. There's just so much blood. You'd think I'd be afraid of bi cuts as well, but that's not the case. The thing is, with cut, you can see the source of the bleeding and stop it. With nosebleeds on the other hand, you can't exactly see the source, and you kinda just have to sit there and wait it out. I've never gotten one myself, but I've seen my friends get a few, and it always scares the living daylights out of me.
This one is not-so-weird, but I'm also a picky eater. Thankfully my family is fairly well off in the district, so we're able to afford food that I like. No eggs, no fish, no asparagus. Just little things like that. I hate it when the food on my plate touches, and I really don't like eating anything that's mixed together. I'm not a big fan of sauce either. My parents tried to work the habit out of my when I was little, but as you can see, it didn't work very well.
When I was ten or so we found out I was allergic to strawberries. It was my birthday, and my parents had saved enough money to buy some along with a bit of chocolate from the market. They melted it, dipped the strawberries in, and then froze them overnight. I had a few friends over, ate a few strawberries, and suddenly I was covered in hives. It was awful and they didn't go away all day. My parents rarely bought strawberries in the first place, but I haven't seen any in the house since then.
The last thing I can think of is that I've always had a terrible sense of direction. Let me loose in the district square, and you probably won't see me for another two or three hours. I usually have to ask for a directions, which I don't mind doing, since I love talking to people. Everyone knows me pretty well at this point, and I find it hilarious when people greet me with, "Are you lost again, Winnie?"
History:
Well, I was born in District 5, six years before my little sister. I was my parent's first child, and as I said earlier, I was an accident. At the time, they couldn't afford to add a third person to the family, because my dad was the only one working. But since they had me, they got a little extra money from the Capitol, and mom got a job as soon as I was able to go to school. After that we were pretty well off, and they realized how much they loved having a kid, so they had another. They named her Alba, after the other grandmother I'd never met. She's ten now, and loads of fun to be around. She likes collecting snake skins when we go to that little patch of woods together.
Anyways, I had my encounter with the dog when I was four, before Alba was born. I don't remember it very well, but mom says I tried petting one of the Peacekeeper's dogs in the middle of a whipping, and it bit me pretty hard. That's where I got the nifty little scar on my hand.
The accident at the power plant happened when I was seven. Mom was out later than planned with some friends, so dad had to bring Alba and I to his work. He left us in one of the offices to play, but of course I wouldn't stay put. I wandered out near some loose electric wires, and I got a nasty shock against my leg when I walked past them. Dad tells me I blacked out. I don't remember much of it, but I remember some guy who used to be a doctor waking me up. He told me my leg was going to hurt for a while, that I shouldn't walk on that, and that I'd probably have a limp. Something about damaging the nerves in my leg. The skin there has been a little darker than the rest of me ever since, and that's where I got my limp. I guess I'm pretty accident-prone.
Other than that, my life has been pretty simple. Alba started going to school, I learned how to walk with a limp, I got really good in biology and science, started collecting bugs. We've never moved, mostly because we don't need to, but also because I doubt we could afford it. My parents have always had a good relationship with us. When I was little, my mom would sing a song and my dad would tell me a story before bed. I'm too old for that now, but they do it with Alba. She likes it I think. I've kept up my letter-writing with Heather, although, as I said, I've never actually spoken to her. Mom says that something exciting is bound to happen to us soon, since we all share such a boring life. But I like my life the way it is, and I hope it stays this way.
Face Claim:
Shailyne Pierre-Dixon
LOST IN THE PLAYGROUND
LATE NIGHT NOSTALGIA
LATE NIGHT NOSTALGIA
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