Labyrinth Fray // District One

Name: Labyrinth Ursula Fray
Age: 17
Gender: Female
District/Area: District 1
Appearance:

Another interview? Did my mother put you up to this? Surely you want a Shore or a Dempsey. Anyone but little old me. Fine, fine, I'm being paid too for my time. I mean my allowance is like, totally spectacular. So, let's get on with it. Oh, you expected the Labyrinth Fray, the protege, the chess legend? She can't be reached right now, so you'll have to settle for this model. That's what you really wanted, after all. You want to know who my stylist is, who keeps my hair this ash blonde. It's natural, actually, thank you very much. I'll admit I allow a little makeup though. Acne is the curse of the young. A little bronzer, a little mascara never hurt anyone. It does dent the IQ though. Seriously.

Which is another thing genetics blessed me with, but you don't honestly care. You'd rather know that my freckles are my father's, my eyes are my grandmother's, and that ash blonde hair... well, it's almost all mine. I have to share something with Kellan, after all. Someday I expect all these parts will add up to the whole I should be. I see her sometimes, out of the corner of my eye in a mirror, or in my shadow late in the afternoon. She's not quite there yet. I'm too knobby around the knees and elbows, too long in the neck and short in the forehead. But I might get there. I might actually grow into my looks the way I have grown into my mind.

If you honestly think any of this matters to me, other than the superficial presentation which precedes the Games, you haven't been paying attention.

Personality:

What do I like to do? What an existential question. What is doing? I attend school, the best in District One. I tutor mathematics and physics after school before heading to the training gym. I have a private instructor, a sensei who is highly regarded. Somewhere in there I eat a meal of lean protein and vegetables, before tackling my homework into the night. But all of that isn't anything about who I am. The essence of my being.

And that is the verb of choice today. To be. To do is so mundane. Anyone can do the same things I do. But no one else can be me. They've tried. There are echoes of me throughout District One, entered in the same math competitions, sparring against me at the gym, taunting me with their silver tongues. They are all so dedicated, so competitive, so focused on the task in front of them. If I let you win the math competition, it's because I going to dance circles you in the gym later and some day, when you've forgotten all about it, cut out that tongue.

But I'm not really the violent one in my family. I bide my time, and I know my brothers will do anything to protect our family. Even Kellan. I'm sure you've already interviewed him. Isn't he something? He certainly does a good job of keeping us current in the gossip circles. I don't have much to contribute on that topic. Yes, training and the like requires some amount of social grace. I think I have just enough to squeak by. Don't you? And the rest, thankfully, is based on skill. I care very little with whom Argonite Shore is hooking up with, as long as his knives are sharp and his head is clear when we're sparring. Of my brothers, I would say that I fight the most often with Sterling and Kellan. We are not equals, physically. How could we be? But my polearm brings them down often enough so that they remember to keep score. And that's good enough for me.

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History:

... Hasn't anyone else yet noticed in the inherent irony in asking someone about their history? How far back can you remember? If it has already happened, you have either forgotten it, or colored it with your own perspective. It's not truly history, and if you want to know about my past, you are better off speaking to my parents, to Sterling and Kellan, to my teachers and trainers. They are all older than I am, and thus might have some insight into what I was like as a baby. I am sure I was wide eyed and eager to learn, as I have been for as long as I can remember.

Our house has always been full. It seemed to me that my mother was perpetually pregnant, always seeking the next prodigy. It bothered me, before I mastered my emotions. By the time I entered school, I no longer cared how many copies of DNA my parents produced. I would be the smartest, the quickest, the most cunning. As you might expect, I excelled in school where the game was truly to please the teacher, not memorize all of the inane facts. I learned that brown-nosing got your hair pulled at recess, and if not for that valuable lesson, I may never have figured out the mechanics by which people manipulate one another. It's fortunate the other girls in my grade were such assholes. Of course you know them all already: Bridgit Bonham, Elspeth and Eris Moreno, Karma Prescott, Annie Lightwood, Lia Irvine. Need I say more?

The physical part of Games training came later, once my body began to change under the duress of puberty. Some of my siblings entered the training center earlier than others. For me, I trained in dance first, until my joints strengthened, and then in combat. I think you can see it in the way I drive my polearm, flip it around my back. My awards decorate as much room on the walls at home as any of my siblings. I know it's a way of keeping us all in competition, to show us that we are only as good as our next recognition. And to be reaped... well, that would be the recognition to end all others. I wonder sometimes though, late at night when I should be studying or sleeping, if my parents have other plans for us once we age over. Will we be allowed to continue our studies or our training?

Or are they playing a much longer game?

Codeword: Odair
Comments/Other:

Younger sister and competition to Kellan Fray