Crius Wilkerson | D2
Aug 5, 2020 4:24:44 GMT -5
Post by Trost on Aug 5, 2020 4:24:44 GMT -5
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Name: Crius Wilkerson
Age: 15-years-old
Gender: Male
District/Area: District 2
Appearance:
I think I'm pretty good looking. I've got medium-length brown hair, including bangs that can easily swoop back with a little grease, and soft brown eyes. I've been told I can have piercing stare but I don't know, I like to stay focused. It's probably my face. In the right angle, I look sharp enough to cut stone. A few freckles dot my face but that's the only place I have them. I keep myself clean shaven – it just looks better. Besides, why would I hide the smirk I've worked so hard to perfect? I try to look confident and I think it works pretty well.
'Course, it helps that I've got a tight body. It's hard to not feel confident. I've dedicated hours of my life to being in excellent physical condition, running, jumping, lifting, and even some swimming, as my Pa didn't want to discount the fact I may be dispatched to District Four one day. I'm kinda short for my age but Ma thinks I've got plenty of time to grow still. No point in worrying about it, you know? I'm on the leaner side but still packed full of muscles. Pa and I fashioned stone weights just as his Pa had taught him long ago, residue from an ancestral background in stone masonry. I've got a brutal left hook that's caused a few noses to set crooked. My knuckles are hard; Pa thought punching wood was a fitting punishment for lying. He never made us hit it hard enough to break anything but it sure did leave an impact. I'm not afraid to get dirty despite being “pretty” and I've got the callouses, the scars to prove it.
I like to carry myself highly. Not like a snob, there's a line you have to draw in order for it to be effective. I keep my back and neck straight any time I'm not at home in my room and away from my potential influence on others. I maintain eye contact and rest assured my rear would be raw if I dared to give a loose handshake. Ma ensures I have fresh, clean clothes every day. I dress simply but appropriately. I know how to dress up when the situation calls for it but overall I prefer to be in something that can be as casual as it is athletic.
With all that being said, I'm a little scared about my future. At least for my looks. My health too. See, Pa was pretty dashing when he was young according to my mom but near the end of his twenty years of service, he took a sharp decline. I've never seen Pa before but now, he's a rugged mess of a man. Face covered in thick wrinkles and sun spots, shoulders painfully hunched, back crooked. It's not just Pa either, it's yet another family tradition that I know I'm destined to burden upon my shoulders.
Personality:
Growing up, I've always had to fulfill expectations.
Be loyal. Be obedient. Be serving. Be grateful. Be better.
If those expectations weren't met... Well, nothing good came of it. So I adapted. Frankly, I was a troublesome baby. I wasn't born knowing my destiny, I had to learn and grow. Ma's protective grasp could only shield me for so long before Pa decided she was unfit to properly discipline me. I don't remember much at all of this power transfer but I do remember flashes of pain and angry words dripping in disappointment.
But those fleeting moments were enough to mold me into what I think is a respectable young man. I'm fiercely loyal to my family, friends, and all our values. My values. I plan on faithfully serving as a Peacekeeper but... I've toyed with the idea of being a volunteer. My family has always favored becoming Peacekeepers, deeming it safer overall (though they'll never admit it), but they do it see it as honorable. If you die as a tribute, it's disappointing but they still respect you. At least in theory, 'cause like I said, nobody's really had the guts to try for it yet. Sometimes I like to picture myself in the arena while I'm training or supposed to be focusing on my schooling. I picture myself brutalizing tributes from lesser districts, I picture myself returning home to a proud family...
Anyways, even if I never get a chance to be in the Games, I'll make an excellent Peacekeeper. My obedience is deeply instilled and there is no hesitation as authority is to be unquestioningly obeyed. I'm hard-working with an eagerness to please. My practicality means I'm a good choice for a wide range of tasks. I think about hurting people but I've got enough resolve to save myself the trouble and that ought to be attractive, right? Self-restraint. Most importantly, I'm candid. Honest. I'll tell the truth but I'll say it in a way that satiates those above me and herds the ones below me. Growing up how I did enabled me to master the art of placating.
In my head I'm always analyzing and judging. Maybe I'm even a little too critical of those I see as below me but how I see it, what's so bad about some constructive criticism? People need to be more careful of themselves. Humanity sorely lacks self-awareness and that's why humanity needs somebody to enforce order and protect society. I'm not sympathetic, never have been. Can't afford sentimentality when there are far more important things to worry about. Sympathy was a sign of weakness to Pa and he didn't like weaknesses. He taught us to quickly stamp out any flicker of empathy by hurting animals, any animal he could find would do. Mice were a favorite of his. Nature versus nurture. Does your environment or your genetics influence who you are as a person? Sometimes I think I know the exact answer to that ancient debate.
I'm not interested in romantic relationships and I'm especially not interested in anything sexual. Peacekeepers have to serve twenty years without families. Letting a... Somebody take my heart would be suicide. I know how to love. Pa loves Ma and they're open about it. I think he loves my brother and I too, he just has his own expectations to fulfill. For now, I'm content letting that be a dormant aspect of my life, giving me more time to focus on training and schooling.
I'm not a total stiff. I laugh a lot. I know how to make jokes, how to relax and enjoy the moment. Those I've befriended I enjoy talking with and I like to think I offer a variety of subjects to talk about. Education is important, I try to absorb everything but at this point I think I know what will be pertinent in the future. Do I relish or despise that fact?
History:
“People like you and I, son, we keep the peace.”
I will never forget those words are as long as I live. My dad was born and raised to be a Peacekeeper. It's deep in our blood and something we're expected to carry on. Anyways, the story goes he and my ma met by chance something like twenty years ago in the town square. They had a whirlwind year of dating culminating in marriage. Then they had Orion and me not too long after that.
My Pa, Astraeus Wilkerson, long-time resident of District 2 and proud cog in a well-oiled machine, retired after his twenty years of service. I think it was the arthritis that really did him in, I've seen how it makes his fingers curl and face twinge in near constant pain. Some of the other Peacekeeper kids have reported to me stories from their parents, involving my father mutilating animals. I always pretend to be surprised but I'm not. I'm well aware. Frankly, he has his reasons and I'm sure of that.
My Ma, Margot Morton, was nineteen when she met Pa. She's also a long-term District 2 resident, with her family deeply involved with stone, stone, and more stone. She never had to deal with much stone, favoring a life of homemaking. She's always got a pleasant smile on her face. I think she fell for Pa because he could offer a stable life. She could tend to her own family and home. The Capitol certainly makes good of their promise to care for their loyal soldiers.
Orion is my brother. We don't have the best relationship. He liked the sciences growing up but the sciences had no true value in our household, at least not if it wasn't supplemental to our future as Peacekeepers. Pa liked to make me watch Orion's beatings. He didn't want me to forget and make the same mistakes. I will never forget. I don't think Orion will either. He turned eighteen not too long ago and abruptly left, announcing he was wedding his childhood sweetheart, Amethyst Sims, and started a life well away from our family's hot and cold atmosphere. He's working in a weapons engineering plant right now and last I heard he wants to become a big shot one day.
As for me, I'm fifteen-years-old. I feel I've done a lot in my lifetime but also so little. I began properly training when I was twelve. I live a comfortable life at home, now that I'm older and know how to keep Pa happy. Pa barks commands and I obey, oh so true to myself. I think I'm happy.
But then I think about my ma gingerly wiping the blood from Pa's hands and kiss his bruises before tending to her son, moaning on the floor. Nature versus nurture. The art of placating.
I think about my dad and the mice.
I also think about our family standing outside and staring into the nighttime sky, trying to catch glimpses of constellations and other space abnormalities.
I think about my dad's weathered face grinning as I lift a new personal record or run an especially quick mile.
I think I am happy. I feel fulfilled. Fulfilled because my path in life is clear. Not everybody can say that about themselves. My short past has unsavory moments, sure, but I wouldn't be who I am without them.
That's a good thing.
Right?
Name: Crius Wilkerson
Age: 15-years-old
Gender: Male
District/Area: District 2
Appearance:
I think I'm pretty good looking. I've got medium-length brown hair, including bangs that can easily swoop back with a little grease, and soft brown eyes. I've been told I can have piercing stare but I don't know, I like to stay focused. It's probably my face. In the right angle, I look sharp enough to cut stone. A few freckles dot my face but that's the only place I have them. I keep myself clean shaven – it just looks better. Besides, why would I hide the smirk I've worked so hard to perfect? I try to look confident and I think it works pretty well.
'Course, it helps that I've got a tight body. It's hard to not feel confident. I've dedicated hours of my life to being in excellent physical condition, running, jumping, lifting, and even some swimming, as my Pa didn't want to discount the fact I may be dispatched to District Four one day. I'm kinda short for my age but Ma thinks I've got plenty of time to grow still. No point in worrying about it, you know? I'm on the leaner side but still packed full of muscles. Pa and I fashioned stone weights just as his Pa had taught him long ago, residue from an ancestral background in stone masonry. I've got a brutal left hook that's caused a few noses to set crooked. My knuckles are hard; Pa thought punching wood was a fitting punishment for lying. He never made us hit it hard enough to break anything but it sure did leave an impact. I'm not afraid to get dirty despite being “pretty” and I've got the callouses, the scars to prove it.
I like to carry myself highly. Not like a snob, there's a line you have to draw in order for it to be effective. I keep my back and neck straight any time I'm not at home in my room and away from my potential influence on others. I maintain eye contact and rest assured my rear would be raw if I dared to give a loose handshake. Ma ensures I have fresh, clean clothes every day. I dress simply but appropriately. I know how to dress up when the situation calls for it but overall I prefer to be in something that can be as casual as it is athletic.
With all that being said, I'm a little scared about my future. At least for my looks. My health too. See, Pa was pretty dashing when he was young according to my mom but near the end of his twenty years of service, he took a sharp decline. I've never seen Pa before but now, he's a rugged mess of a man. Face covered in thick wrinkles and sun spots, shoulders painfully hunched, back crooked. It's not just Pa either, it's yet another family tradition that I know I'm destined to burden upon my shoulders.
Personality:
Growing up, I've always had to fulfill expectations.
Be loyal. Be obedient. Be serving. Be grateful. Be better.
If those expectations weren't met... Well, nothing good came of it. So I adapted. Frankly, I was a troublesome baby. I wasn't born knowing my destiny, I had to learn and grow. Ma's protective grasp could only shield me for so long before Pa decided she was unfit to properly discipline me. I don't remember much at all of this power transfer but I do remember flashes of pain and angry words dripping in disappointment.
But those fleeting moments were enough to mold me into what I think is a respectable young man. I'm fiercely loyal to my family, friends, and all our values. My values. I plan on faithfully serving as a Peacekeeper but... I've toyed with the idea of being a volunteer. My family has always favored becoming Peacekeepers, deeming it safer overall (though they'll never admit it), but they do it see it as honorable. If you die as a tribute, it's disappointing but they still respect you. At least in theory, 'cause like I said, nobody's really had the guts to try for it yet. Sometimes I like to picture myself in the arena while I'm training or supposed to be focusing on my schooling. I picture myself brutalizing tributes from lesser districts, I picture myself returning home to a proud family...
Anyways, even if I never get a chance to be in the Games, I'll make an excellent Peacekeeper. My obedience is deeply instilled and there is no hesitation as authority is to be unquestioningly obeyed. I'm hard-working with an eagerness to please. My practicality means I'm a good choice for a wide range of tasks. I think about hurting people but I've got enough resolve to save myself the trouble and that ought to be attractive, right? Self-restraint. Most importantly, I'm candid. Honest. I'll tell the truth but I'll say it in a way that satiates those above me and herds the ones below me. Growing up how I did enabled me to master the art of placating.
In my head I'm always analyzing and judging. Maybe I'm even a little too critical of those I see as below me but how I see it, what's so bad about some constructive criticism? People need to be more careful of themselves. Humanity sorely lacks self-awareness and that's why humanity needs somebody to enforce order and protect society. I'm not sympathetic, never have been. Can't afford sentimentality when there are far more important things to worry about. Sympathy was a sign of weakness to Pa and he didn't like weaknesses. He taught us to quickly stamp out any flicker of empathy by hurting animals, any animal he could find would do. Mice were a favorite of his. Nature versus nurture. Does your environment or your genetics influence who you are as a person? Sometimes I think I know the exact answer to that ancient debate.
I'm not interested in romantic relationships and I'm especially not interested in anything sexual. Peacekeepers have to serve twenty years without families. Letting a... Somebody take my heart would be suicide. I know how to love. Pa loves Ma and they're open about it. I think he loves my brother and I too, he just has his own expectations to fulfill. For now, I'm content letting that be a dormant aspect of my life, giving me more time to focus on training and schooling.
I'm not a total stiff. I laugh a lot. I know how to make jokes, how to relax and enjoy the moment. Those I've befriended I enjoy talking with and I like to think I offer a variety of subjects to talk about. Education is important, I try to absorb everything but at this point I think I know what will be pertinent in the future. Do I relish or despise that fact?
History:
“People like you and I, son, we keep the peace.”
I will never forget those words are as long as I live. My dad was born and raised to be a Peacekeeper. It's deep in our blood and something we're expected to carry on. Anyways, the story goes he and my ma met by chance something like twenty years ago in the town square. They had a whirlwind year of dating culminating in marriage. Then they had Orion and me not too long after that.
My Pa, Astraeus Wilkerson, long-time resident of District 2 and proud cog in a well-oiled machine, retired after his twenty years of service. I think it was the arthritis that really did him in, I've seen how it makes his fingers curl and face twinge in near constant pain. Some of the other Peacekeeper kids have reported to me stories from their parents, involving my father mutilating animals. I always pretend to be surprised but I'm not. I'm well aware. Frankly, he has his reasons and I'm sure of that.
My Ma, Margot Morton, was nineteen when she met Pa. She's also a long-term District 2 resident, with her family deeply involved with stone, stone, and more stone. She never had to deal with much stone, favoring a life of homemaking. She's always got a pleasant smile on her face. I think she fell for Pa because he could offer a stable life. She could tend to her own family and home. The Capitol certainly makes good of their promise to care for their loyal soldiers.
Orion is my brother. We don't have the best relationship. He liked the sciences growing up but the sciences had no true value in our household, at least not if it wasn't supplemental to our future as Peacekeepers. Pa liked to make me watch Orion's beatings. He didn't want me to forget and make the same mistakes. I will never forget. I don't think Orion will either. He turned eighteen not too long ago and abruptly left, announcing he was wedding his childhood sweetheart, Amethyst Sims, and started a life well away from our family's hot and cold atmosphere. He's working in a weapons engineering plant right now and last I heard he wants to become a big shot one day.
As for me, I'm fifteen-years-old. I feel I've done a lot in my lifetime but also so little. I began properly training when I was twelve. I live a comfortable life at home, now that I'm older and know how to keep Pa happy. Pa barks commands and I obey, oh so true to myself. I think I'm happy.
But then I think about my ma gingerly wiping the blood from Pa's hands and kiss his bruises before tending to her son, moaning on the floor. Nature versus nurture. The art of placating.
I think about my dad and the mice.
I also think about our family standing outside and staring into the nighttime sky, trying to catch glimpses of constellations and other space abnormalities.
I think about my dad's weathered face grinning as I lift a new personal record or run an especially quick mile.
I think I am happy. I feel fulfilled. Fulfilled because my path in life is clear. Not everybody can say that about themselves. My short past has unsavory moments, sure, but I wouldn't be who I am without them.
That's a good thing.
Right?
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