Fabian is not the sort of chap who is going to age well -- and you can see that already, even at less than forty. Deep creases in his overly large forehead are giving way to wrinkles, the sort of battle that leaves crevices and ripples. Fabian will never be able to hide his worries because they are etched right into his skin. When he was younger it was easier to disguise that expansive forehead, a continent unto itself. But now that his hairline is receding, there's little he can do but watch it grow and grow and grow. Like a landfill. A wrinkled landfill.

At least the hair remains silky and colored, a reddish blonde in the summer, and a darker near-auburn in the winter. His beard is another matter - that which was once a rich red gold is giving way to grey and white, outpacing the fluffy on top. He shaves and shaves, but that's nothing new. As a swimmer, he's always kept his body trim and generally free of hair. It does not, however, please him to wash grey hair down the sink.

If you can get past staring at the glossy surface above his eyes, Fabian does actually have very classic features - a pert nose, thin but ridged lips, and eyes that can take you away from this horrible place, eyes that can dazzle and bewilder. Fabian used to be a good deal better at shuttering them, but lately it's become too much of an effort. They feel as he does, his heart in those blue irises.

Fabian cares about his figure, which is the only reason he has any to speak of. His genes are not so kindly inclined, but he does love being in the water - swimming, boarding, fishing. The salt encourages the wrinkles, but the struggle against the tide feeds his muscles. For now, it's a balancing act. As long as Fabian continues to swim, he'll fit in the same suits he's worn for decades. There is, perhaps, a little less room in the waist, but he is strong, thick in the shoulders and neck, and he's not about to give that up.

He sticks to classic clothes, really whatever his wife orders for him from the tailors. He has exactly one suit from the Capitol that hands in the back of his closet, bright and strange and untouchable. Fabian would rather be in board shorts all day every day, with perhaps a nice sweater for the evening time, but he's more than willing to look the part of Mayor when it comes down to it. And a new tie? That can make his whole week.

Fabian is a different man entirely when he's in the water. There he is the boy wonder, the Career who set the fastest mile swum in District Four, which was no easy feat against all the other trim lads. He's never really lost that edge. Fabian is neat and slick in the ocean, the sort of man who continues to keep his body shaved and waxed so that he can glide through the water. There, he is king, all muscle and power and determination. There's no doubt that Fabian was once a Career to his core. And though he can no longer throw a knife with accuracy, he still retains the same thought process - what doesn't kill him can only make him stronger.

Outside of the waves, he is a dried up old man, aged far beyond his thirty-nine years. You can almost see the transformation from teenage ne'er-do-well to the overburdened father as he drags himself up the beach. It's one of the myriad of reasons he prefers to swim alone, even though it is dangerous, and as a father he should set a better example. But he just can't bear the weight of others' gazes when he emerges, face full of disappointment at leaving his mistress, the sea. Fabian has worked out a pretty good system whereby he goes to the beach mid-morning, when everyone else in his district is already at school, or the cannery, or still out fishing. He almost never has to see anyone else during this time, and that suits him perfectly.

When not pining for another dip, Fabian spends a lot of time worrying about his family - more time than he should, given that he's the Mayor. But he can't really separate the two, not after that fateful conversation with Snow almost five years ago. He learned then that his family was not safe, was not immune. Quite the contrary, it almost seemed that Snow was threatening him directly with the Reaping of his children. Thusfar no Perch has entered the Games, but there's still time, and every year the worry grinds Fabian down.

It was perhaps because of the conversation with Snow that Fabian opened his eyes. He witnessed the cruelties of the Capitol before then, certainly, but he always sided with those in the government. For the last five years, however, he has looked more at the victims, the people sentenced to be shot, hung or bled to death in his square. More and more he sees not a thief or a murderer, but a desperate parent trying to do right by their child. He's been forced to ask himself what he would do, had their positions been exchanged - and the answer isn't pretty.

He carries most of these thoughts in silence, although Fabian has never been good at hiding anything. He wears his heart on his sleeve, or more specifically in his eyes. He's been able to cast off more distant relations by claiming concern over one election after the next. But those who live in Fabian, his family and his servants, they know better. They know that this is a man haunted, a man who has seen the world for what it is, and no longer wants to live in it.

He remains for his family though, and because Fabian has no idea what else he would do.

Fabian Perch was born to one of the great captains of District Four, a man who was married to the sea and came home just often enough to sell his plentiful catches and knock his wife up. Twice. Fabian was the younger result, preceded by Fernando. The boys were born only a year apart and often mistaken for twins when they were little. As adolescence set in, however, they became less and less alike. Fabian shot up to tower a solid eight inches over his elder brother, and had a mean, rebellious streak. When he was out drinking on the beach, Fernando was studying at home. It was really their father's reputation that saved both boys - Fernando from social outcasting, and Fabian from jail.

It was a shock to all when Fabian was the first to march down the aisle, given his wayward teen years. It's no small wonder though - Mrs. Perch was everything Fabian needed in his life. She became his rock, his love, his everything. His wedding day remains the very happiest day of his life.

It wasn't long before the Perches were filling up their small home with babies. The first came easily, maybe too much so. It was years before the second, and there trials and losses in between. Fabian spent that time selling his father's catches, learning the the land-side of the family trade. He loved the water, but Fabian has no affinity for boats. It was during this time in the main market of Four that Fabian began to actually hone his people skills. The more oysters and scallops his father caught, the more well-to-do their customers. In a few years Fabian had connections to all the major families of Four, and some beyond his district as well.

He was in his mid-twenties, about the time his second child was born, that he began to contemplate running for Mayor. By the time he was elected, shortly after his thirtieth birthday, he had more children and more responsibilities than he knew what to do with. A smarter man might have stopped reproducing, or quit his job at the market, but Fabian did neither. He gave up sleep and alcohol, anything that slowed down his lifestyle.

It was the year of his baby son's birth when President Snow took him aside and disillusioned him thoroughly. The would be no safe haven for the five Perch children, no immunity from the Reaping. In some ways Fabian had planned for this end; the eldest had been trained as Careers, except for his autistic second son. In other ways, though, he had never even really considered the possibility, had only ever seen the prestige that came with Career status.

It was the rock that broke his path, his journey in life. He can no longer go down that road where being Mayor made him supreme, a god among men. Instead he must fight his way around like everyone else. The last five years, between that Quell and this, have been more exploratory than any in his life. A mid-life crisis come early? Perhaps, and Fabian has the wrinkles to show for it. He spends most of his nights alone, waking to night terrors and obsessing over how he might quietly exit his post without putting his family into more danger.

Because if Snow made anything clear that day, it was that Four needed a Victor. The Mayor has failed to provide that year after year, and he knows the President is not a patient man. Which one of them will break first is yet to be seen, but Fabian is looking at all options now, and will do anything to protect his family.

Mayor of District Four <33