Remora Pike // D4
Jan 9, 2021 17:19:37 GMT -5
Post by grant on Jan 9, 2021 17:19:37 GMT -5
S O U N D
REMORA PIKE
18
FEMALE
DISTRICT 4
APPEARANCE
The wolves will chase you by the pale moonlight...
My reflection is something I look at too much. Taking into account a strand of hair in the wrong place, my face being too plush some days, my cheeks being red when I leave the water, I can't say I'm perfect. But, I look into a mirror and I smile. I let myself enjoy the view, and see a happy young woman. Somebody with potential, but not complete.
Style is rare for every district, I think. Maybe not One. But for me, I get to appreciate the fabrics, wear something warm in the winter while knowing I look in some measure presentable. I enjoy it, the textures, the fashion, the statements. I watch every Hunger Games with anticipation of the different outfits, the tribute costumes, the stylists who wear that stuff day in day out. It's fascinating, but not entirely my life. I'm an onlooker of that life, never to touch, always to observe.
Style is rare for every district, I think. Maybe not One. But for me, I get to appreciate the fabrics, wear something warm in the winter while knowing I look in some measure presentable. I enjoy it, the textures, the fashion, the statements. I watch every Hunger Games with anticipation of the different outfits, the tribute costumes, the stylists who wear that stuff day in day out. It's fascinating, but not entirely my life. I'm an onlooker of that life, never to touch, always to observe.
PERSONALITY
Drive your son like a railroad spike...
Dad calls me his very own pearl. I like to live up to that; I act with dignity, I don't let people in, and I keep pushing forward. There's a variety of notions in my head. Determination, but not confidence. Talent, but not technique. Compassion, but not empathy. I always feel half-mast. As though I'm not entirely finished yet.
I love family. The idea of it. Belonging, and the importance of sticking together. That being said, I don't really have it. My dad is brilliant. He's eccentric, always thinking, but never completing. He's a man of a million ideas and very few eureka moments. That's why I love him. My dad is a soft soul torn up by the world. Filled with his own fears, none of which he's let me in to see. But the thing I love the most in him, and others, is that he has always protected me from the harshness of the world, usually at his own expense.
I love family. The idea of it. Belonging, and the importance of sticking together. That being said, I don't really have it. My dad is brilliant. He's eccentric, always thinking, but never completing. He's a man of a million ideas and very few eureka moments. That's why I love him. My dad is a soft soul torn up by the world. Filled with his own fears, none of which he's let me in to see. But the thing I love the most in him, and others, is that he has always protected me from the harshness of the world, usually at his own expense.
HISTORY
Don't you lift him, let him drown alive.
There aren't many friends in this story, but that doesn't mean I did it alone. I've always had my dad, of course. But, probably most importantly, I've had my best friend Reef. He's almost like a brother: Always round for a meal, and sleepovers, and more meals. He's only thirteen, and has depended on my little family while at the orphanage. He'll sneak out all of the time to stay with us, as though we were his true family. Ever since he became of the reaping age, it's been a real struggle weighing his fears, my own, and my dad's of losing either or both of us. Imagine. My dad, alone, because the pair of us are reaped at the same time. That sticks with me every year. I'm so pleased to be eighteen. One. More. Year.
Mum wasn't around for very long. Not by choice, she was taken by an illness when I was too young to remember. I can still smell her every now and then. It's strange, I know, but her perfume catches the winds every so often as though there were remnants of her beauty resting on the very air. That's what I've come to love about the memory of her, and the fact that I know how happy she made my dad. I miss the idea of her, and regret never knowing what she was really like.
That's what has made me become, in some ways, the matriarch of my little family here in Four. We're a small collective of like-minded swimmers, finding our way on the shores of our district. We'll pick up some shells along the way, get distracted by shells and get caught in shoals. But, we'll always return to our little home at the top of the street, and smile at ourselves in our mirrors.
We're Pikes, and we're hard to catch.
Mum wasn't around for very long. Not by choice, she was taken by an illness when I was too young to remember. I can still smell her every now and then. It's strange, I know, but her perfume catches the winds every so often as though there were remnants of her beauty resting on the very air. That's what I've come to love about the memory of her, and the fact that I know how happy she made my dad. I miss the idea of her, and regret never knowing what she was really like.
That's what has made me become, in some ways, the matriarch of my little family here in Four. We're a small collective of like-minded swimmers, finding our way on the shores of our district. We'll pick up some shells along the way, get distracted by shells and get caught in shoals. But, we'll always return to our little home at the top of the street, and smile at ourselves in our mirrors.
We're Pikes, and we're hard to catch.
FC: Perrie Edwards