AVON MIONE LIGHTWOOD, DISTRICT ONE

AVON
MIONE
LIGHTWOOD .

“SO SAVE YOUR SCISSORS”
For someone else's skin.

AGE . Eighteen, but an adult long before then.
GENDER . Female.
DISTRICT . District One.
OCCUPATION . Who wants to know.
SEXUALITY . .....Rude.
THE NO NONSENSE VOICE . In An Instant
TALKING . Vigna Angularis
DOING . Into
DEEP THOUGHT . Drifting
HEARING . Faint Blush
SINGING . Like Wildflowers


APPEARANCE .

“MY SURFACE IS SO TOUGH”
I don't think the blade will dig in.

There is no doubt in anyone's mind that Avon Mione Lightwood is beautiful. It's not just the make-up of her body or her face, but it's who she is, and how she holds herself. She stands at five foot and four inches, just above Antoinette, and eight inches below her twin brother. But with her, it doesn't matter what her height is because when she's angry she appears to be so tall that she'll block out the sun. She has this presence within her that doesn't let her be small even when she is. Her frame is slender, and she weighs a healthy one hundred and twenty-seven pounds, her stomach as hard as a rock. Her body is well toned due to years of training in combat and stylized fighting. She is rather wiry, yet filled out enough with a thirty-two B-cup breast size, filling out clothing easily, but not so much boob that it gets in her way.

Her skin is usually a soft tanned colour due to her time spent outside. Even when she's at home she prefers chores that keep her outside, such as gardening or cutting the lawn. Her skin is clear except for the small, beige freckles that dot her nose, and almost to under her eyelids. She's never had much problem with acne, and it's probably because someone out there knew that she would never even bother trying to learn how to protect herself against it. It's not unusual to see bruises underneath her closing, or small, almost disappeared scars here and there. She has a splotch of a birthmark tucked in her behind her left ear, only a slight discoloration from the rest of her skin, and goes easily unnoticed even though her hair is rather short, shorter than her older brother's even.

Her hair used to fall in gorgeous waves down to her lower mid back. Even though it was beautiful, she never really knew what to do with it, so it was always left, unbrushed and flowing, or tied up into a high ponytail, giving her the appearance of having a horse tail. Although she was born with hair the colour of dark spun gold, it tended to lighten so much in any sun that the bleaching lasted throughout the whole year, and she ended up with a beach sand brown. When she was thirteen, she cut it all off of her pretty little head however, the lightness so unbearably wonderful that she decide that she would always keep it so short. The almost gold colour of the top of her head is always in a disarray when she just wakes up, sticking up all over, until she runs her hand over it, and flattens it to her left side. She sometimes wears it differently when she decides to give a crap, for example all tufted up.

For a girl so boy-like in her personality and body, she has a rather feminine face. Her large oval eyes sit an appropriate distance away from each other, and they are a light chocolate brown colour. Sometimes they are alight with the occasional smile, but more often then not they are dull with a show of no emotion. Over them sits arching eyebrows, underneath a forehead that only looks larger with her bangs gone. Her nose is relatively big, but it happily complicates her small features anyway. Her mouth is small, with the lower lip plumper with her upper. Her mouth when turned up into a rare smile, displays carefully kept white teeth, the taste of blood in them making her scrub them sometimes until her gums are bleeding.

Her face is rather angular, with a small chin and a round upper head, making her almost look like an ice cream cone on a stick. Her ears are rather large, and they stick out about two centimetres away from her head, but not enough that she looks like a total dork. Her neck is long, and meets her body with a graceful flow so that her shoulders can say hello without being too afraid of being outdone. She has secretary hands, long and thin, but too clumsy for playing a piano or any instrument. In fact, the things that they are best at is turning pages, punching, chopping, and holding. Her feet are a size eight, but sometimes eight and a half depending on what shoe type she is wearing. Her pointer toe is longer than her big toe by a centimetre at the least.

The one thing that she allows herself to be a girl about is clothing. She has a thing for fashionable clothes, and wearing tall heels. So even though it's very impractical, she can often be found wearing the latest District One trend. Of course when she is training, or knows she might be fighting she opts for legging, a t-shirt and sneakers. Not that stilettos aren't nice for fighting, they can be turned into a weapon rather easily by stomping through a foot, and she even practices her running in them just to make sure she can. With runners she can bound away, using the rubber on the shoes to push her forwards. Although she does like fashion, she isn't the type to wear a lot of jewelry, and doesn't even have her ears pierced. But although her well toned muscles are boyish, and the way she acts isn't very womanly, there is no doubt that Avon is a beauty.

PERSONALITY .

“SAVE YOUR STRENGTH”
Save your wasted time.

The first thing to be said about the middle Lightwwod triplet, is that even though she has a thing for the books, she is still a total badass. In fact, if you ask any of her classmates, they would be sure to tell you that she is not someone to mess with. Even as her siblings lean more towards the arts, Avon leans more towards the sciences and maths. She firmly believes in having the most information possible and will spend hours writing papers and reading books on just about anything. Her favourite subjects are human anatomy which comes in rather handy when taping herself back together, and surprisingly enough, English class. She enjoys taking poems apart piece by piece and finding the realism inside of them because although she is quite intelligent, she prefers things to be simple.

Being the middle triplet, she's caught between Antoinette's hate for Riley, and Riley's love for Antoinette so securely that sometimes she hates them both almost as much as she adores them. She's got the 'triplet syndrome.' She feels the other's pain astutely, and when one of them is upset it sends her into a bleak mood as well. Honestly, she's always been closer to Riley, who quickly become her hero because he never forced her to play barbies and he treated her like the girl she wanted to be treated as. She's as girly as a sack of dirt with the odd crumpled flower sticking from it. For some reason they just connected, making Avon take her afternoon naps curled up beside Riley, under the weeping willow in their backyard, which also made their bond tighter than leather when stretched and made wet.

Where Riley is loving and a caretaker, Avon is his opposite. Not to say that she doesn't love her siblings with all her heart, no, every movement and breath of air is for her family, but she shows her love in a different way. Where Riley is gentle, she is a wall of concrete, always ready with a no, or some form of discipline, which is why they compliment each other so nicely. She has trouble showing affection with hugs or kisses on the forehead, so she shows that she cares by making sure each Lightwood is always doing the best that they can. She just wants them all to succeed. Another reason as to why she works so hard herself. Even though the Lightwoods seem to be endlessly wealthy, Avon isn't dumb and she knows that with this many children she better set herself up for a good future. She loves all her siblings equally, but if there is one that she has a soft spot for, it's Chyba. It's hard to dislike a kid with such an innocent smile, and such a love for everyone. He doesn't know why he doesn't fit in so well, and she refuses to even hint at it. She just mothers him like a hen pecks at her chicks, so even harsher than any other Lightwood, almost making it look like she hates him.

She and Riley work together like a well oiled machine, always seeming to know where the other is in the house, and what they are doing. Getting the siblings ready for school is a simple set-up of the same routine every morning, and getting them all into bed at the right time is a hassle. At least they only have to worry about Chyba and Aris now. But even making sure the other Lightwoods are where they should be is a ridiculous undertaking, so much so that Avon refers to them as chess pieces, and is such a mam bear to her siblings that sometimes it isn't even funny. If she hears anything about anyone hurting one of her sisters or brothers at school, she will hunt them down and beat the living daylights out of them. It's a well known fact at their school that if you want to bother a Lightwood, you go through Avon first.

If there is any sibling that Avon looks up to, it is her brother, Riley. Although he's pretty spindly and weak, what makes him strong and someone to look up to is the fact that he has extraordinary mental stamina and strength. Where she is all punches and kicks, he has the ability to not break down even when the going gets rough, giving her inspiration for herself. Avon's skin is probably three inches deep for the amount of patience it takes someone to get close to her. She does not let anyone in, her face a mask of impassivity, because she does not want anyone knowing her weaknesses. What is most important to her is to protect her family, and be strong for them. The minute someone tries to worm their way into her heart she shuts down, and discontinues the conversation, obtaining the appearance of someone untouched by pain, yet so very damaged.

Avon's temper is something to be reckoned with, and if one finds that she is angry, it is best to get away from her, and fast. Although she doesn't show emotion, the way she moves and the way her speech becomes scary calm, is a sure sign of her anger. It doesn't take a lot to get her riled up either, as long as one is aiming to hurt a sibling, they are an enemy. She doesn't deal with the emotion with words either, and is prone to kick or punch to show her displeasure. In fact, the whole reason she began to train her body was because she needed an outlet for her anger. Or maybe she just likes to feel and hear the smack of fresh against flesh, the raw pain that radiates from the hit area, or the satisfaction of knocking someone to her knees.

Maybe she's just as terrible a person as her deceased step father because she likes to beat the tar out of people. Because it makes her feel powerful, like she can control things. She validates things by telling herself that she beats up assholes, and therefore it's different. That even though she enjoys a good fight, it doesn't mean that she's a goddamned psychopath. Besides, sometimes she can get a good bit of money from fight rings. Sometimes she's so busy running away from herself that she forgets that people need her. That she has to be stable, so she'll firmly plant her boots on the ground and stand firm until the next time she has to just run. She realizes that it's normal for a person to need to get away every once in a while, and if it's running until air has to build a battering ram just to enter your lungs, then there isn't much wrong with that.

She's gained a bit of a silly hobby from it. Because she's already so flexible, and her limbs are so strong, she has taken up dance. Only in her room however, where no one can see her, and make fun of her. She mostly likes ballet and lyrical, trying to teach herself how to move, moving to the flow and beat of an old song on her record player. Sometimes in the mornings she'll dance instead of her regular run, because sometimes emotion can't be stomped out by slapping her feet against the pavement, breath catching and flowing. She's got a lot of flexibility, and a lot of drive to become a dancer, even though she knows that she's going to be stuck taking care of Lightwoods forever, or dying somewhere in an arena.

Avon sings, a match to her brother's guitar and her sister's piano. She used to sing all the time when the Lightwoods were growing up, making up songs on the fly, and humming to herself. But she hasn't sung for a long time now. It used to make any day seem good, but she can't find it in herself to sing anymore. She'll try and start but always falter off by the second note because she can't deal with it. The only singing she did after her father's death was lullabies to Chyba and Aris, and even then it was nothing like what she could do before. Instead of finding sollice in her music, she threw it away, trying to forget the feeling of happiness because if there was one thing that might make her cry, it would be that.

She doesn't have much of a social life, but if there is one thing that she is slightly aware of, it's the fact that she's sort of afraid of males. Not in a crazy way, like she can't even touch them, because not all males are bad, she knows that from her real father, it's just that there are a lot of bad men out there, who want more than a girl wants to give, and it gets to the point where she doesn't even want to go out to night clubs or parties that she might get invited to here and there. She's afraid of something about the way guys look at her, what they are thinking when their eyes turn up with their grin, wondering which one of them is a goddamned Xavier.

She spends a lot of her days being tired. Not tired physically, but mentally. She feels like a bike trying to peddle through water, slow, rusted and tired. Every day seems like a big march, beginning in the early dawn when she wakes up to train, right up until late evenings spent in the Lightwood library with Riley plucking at a guitar, and hot chocolates steaming quietly on the table. It's as if she's holding everything in so tightly, but she doesn't have enough hands to keep it all in there, so every now and then she loses something of herself, and let's it float away in the current. She's becoming a mechanical girl made out of rocks and string, each step heavy as hell, each breath colder than ice, and every moment she's pulled down further, and all she can do is try and weakly fight the current.

HISTORY .

“THERE'S NO WAY THAT I WANT YOU TO BE LEFT BEHIND”
Go on and save your scissors.

Avon Mione Lightwood was born a healthy baby girl, although prematurely, to her father and mother Willow and Casper Lightwood when in their late teens. The only catch was that with her came an older brother and a younger sister. They were named Riley, Avon, and Antoinette, and they all came out of the oven in that order. Later she was told that even then she had the gaze of a lioness, and her father knew that she would grow up to be someone to be reckoned with. It was unfortunate for some that this also seemed to be true of her sister's name, a girl who grew older to be a bit of a queen. Riley, with his chocolate curls was so calm when birthed that they knew he would grow up to be someone.

Although three babies all at once was a hell of a lot to handle for two people, it seemed that they didn't quite feel that it was enough for them, because Edana came nine months later. This time the Lightwoods weren't so lucky, their baby born prematurely, resulting in the girl having to have her right leg removed at the knee. The first tragedy of the Lightwood house. Soon after came Keela Lightwood, as healthy as her eldest siblings, with big blue eyes and a smile that could make your heart sore with it's beauty. In just a few short years, the Lightwood family home was full of crying babies, and rambunctious toddlers. Luckily for the two parents, it seemed that they finally leanred about birth control and the Lightwoods stabilized their output rate of babies.

Even though there was a lot of them, the Lightwoods had a life that most would envy. If someone were to write a poem about them, they'd use words like sunshine, lovely, and perfect days. Although each child was rather different in their own right, at the time they found themselves becoming known as the Lightwoods, not by name because when seen together they were always in a pack. Avon quickly sorted out that she was never meant for dolls and dress-up at a young age, while her sisters seemed to enjoy those girly things, Avon was meant for dirt and balls. She often ended up running around the yard in a fit of giggles after Riley. They would make forts with badly scrawled 'No Girls Allowed!' signs and giggle when the others would scream to let them in. Honestly, Avon probably never realized that she was not a boy until she hit puberty.

When Avon, Riley, and Antoinette hit their sixth birthday, a sixth Lightwood was born, this time a baby boy. Finally old enough to understand what it meant when a baby was born, and old enough to appreciate the little boy named Aris, Avon grew enamored of him. She loved his little baby arms and legs, and how he slowly blinked at her. Deep love grew in her for her siblings when she realized that they grew from little tiny things too, and she found herself wondering if she came from a little baby seed too. She liked to sing to Riley's guitar when he played for the baby, and make up words to make the little boy coo. But she often found herself too bored to sit with the two of them for ages, and would go off to find Antoinette and her other sisters before long.

Sometimes she would sit with her father and watch him write things down on the papers on his desk in the Lightwood Library. When he wasn't busy, he would teach her to read, and give her paper so she could write things down as well in her clumsy, childish writing, a pencil guided by a small hand with stubby fingers. She grew a connection from the hours spent in her father's quiet bubble, finding real enjoyment in learning all she could from the books given her, and feeling pride when her father tested her on them, and she knew the answer. "What was through the wardrobe?" he would ask her, and she would proudly reply with the definite answer of, "A place where nothing hurts, Daddy!" enjoying the way he would pull his hand through her alreaady long hair and call her 'his girl.'

It was a sunny afternoon when she was sitting in the library with 'Tales of Beedle The Bard' waiting expectantly for her father to come home so that he could quiz her. She heard the doorbell ring, so she slipped off the armchair she sat on to find out who was at the door. It was a messenger, telling them that their father had been injured in a horrible accident at work, and that it was really bad. At the time, she didn't quite know what really bad meant. She thought that really bad was when you tripped and skinned your knee on gravel, and that hurt really bad because it was like a burn, but also blood. She thought really bad was when mommy caught you taking cookies from the jar on the counter, on the shoulders of your innocent looking brother.

She had no idea that really bad meant that her father was in a place called a hospital. She had no idea that really bad meant that you were so covered with tracker Jacker stings that it was hard to discern features. Until the swelling began to go down, Avon thought that when they went to the hospital they were just visiting a stranger. Two days went by, then three. Casper seemed to be getting better, but then another day went by, and another, and when Riley went into the hospital room, and then came out again a few minutes later, Avon didn't have to ask him to know that father was dead. She didn't have to look into the room to know that her father wasn't in there anymore. She was busy being frozen with shock, her knuckles whitening around the book seh had been clutching, reading all week, waiting for her daddy to open his eyes up and see her there.

After that things went bad. Mommy didn't come out of her room anymore. Avon didn't know what to do. She hadn't cried yet. She had cried over cutting her leg open on a rock before, but now she felt that if she cried it just made him being gone less, because it made the pain equal to that of being cut open on a rock. So she didn't cry. She sat curled up on her father's office chair in the library, swinging around and trying to read the paper he had been working before he got stung, but it was too difficult for her to understand. She didn't know how to console her sisters, and her baby brother who wouldn't stop squealing. A nanny got sent over, but when Avon asked her about the baby boy, she ignored her.

Avon didn't know what to do. She was just a six year old girl with the loss of two parents on her shoulders, and too confused to cry. But Riley was there. He took care of them all, doing stuff even when the nanny would not. He made sure that they were fed, even though he was only six. Things continued on like that, him herding them all about like a sheep dog, Avon numbly letting herself be shepherded, so frozen that she didn't really notice much going on around her. Confused about how her father had died in a tracker jacker incident. And still she studied his papers, referencing dictionaries when she needed to. She became obsessed with learning everything she could about anything. She even studied up on tracker jackers, their habits, where they were kept, and more. She became an expert.

She barely even noticed when her mother remarried her uncle. She didn't really care what he was like, or who he was, as long as he left her alone. She didn't really care about her mother cooking dinner again, or leaving her rooms, because in her opinion, her mother had died two years ago with her father. It really only made sense, it also explained why she hadn't seen her mother in just as long. She met him, sure, was privy to their wedding, and even stood in the new family photo. The only thing she cared about was finding her father in the things he had left behind and written. By the time she was ten, she had drifted off so completely that she stopped joining the family for dinner, locking herself in the room she had claimed as her own. One night, as she scavenged in the pantry for a snack though, she was finally pushed out of her dream land.

There were sounds coming from the library, her favourite room of the house. She didn't know how the completely stupid idea formed itself in her head, but for some reason she thought that maybe it was her daddy, come back to finish writing the last paper he ever half finished. Without even thinking about it, something that never happened, as Avon really was quite intelligent, she burst into the room, not expecting the scene before her at all. She looked in confusion, the first real emotion in months playing itself across her face to see Riley against the wall, holding his side, Xavier Lightwood standing over him. The door had slammed shut behind her, the wild echo telling the two in the room that there was someone else there. Anger ripped through her as she saw what was happening, anger at herself for not realizing what might have been going on for a while, and intense anger at Xavier Lightwood. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could say a word, he was across the room.

He grabbed her by her hair, pulling so hard that it felt like she was stretched out, the roots screaming at her in wild pain. Xavier pulled her across the room to Riley so fast that she couldn't catch her footing. Then he lifted her. He was holding her, against the wall, her eyes tearing up from the wild pain of it. She didn't let tears roll as he held her there, because pain wasn't the same as the other pain. She simply stared at him in anger, as he put his lips to her ear, and threatened her. "If you ever tell your mother anything, I will hang you by your hair. Is that clear?" She simply stared at him, all her anger seething in her eyes, trying to take root on him. She wanted to reach out and punch but she was a weakling, and there was nothing she could do. "IS THAT CLEAR?" he said, shaking her roughly, pulling at her hair even more. After a minute, she slowly nodded, and he released her, all elbows and knees to fall on top of her brother. "That's my girl," he growled, what her dad used to say. Oh,b but she was anything but his girl.

They didn't speak of what happened. But it changed something in Avon. She stopped being so numb and dumb and decided to do something about it. That evening, she grabbed the hair scissors her mother used to trim their hair with from the kitchen, and locked herself in the bathroom attached to her room on one side, and Antoinette's on the other. Carefully, she cut off every last hair until her hair was as short as the boy's at her school. She wouldn't let anyone crab her by the hair again. Swinging her head around in the mirror, she found that she liked the affect as her head felt at least ten pounds lighter. On top of that, she stopped spending so much time in the library, and started spending a hell of a lot more time with the careers of her District, never telling Riley of course, who would get mad at her for it.

She trained with them for the next four years, building up her scrawny body so that she could beat the tar out of Xavier Lightwood. She studied gymnastics, martial arts, lifted weights, and ran. In the mornings, she would wake up before even the sun did and run, meditating in the yard's garden by eight o'clock sharp. She spent every minute of every waking hour training, working to get bigger so that she could give Xavier bruises like he had given her brother, but she still wasn't good enough. She worked until she began to even surpass the careers two years older than her, because her drive was revenge while their's was to fight. She wanted nothing more than revenge. So that's why she was all for it when Keela and Riley came to her with a plan.

They wanted to ironically kill Xavier Lightwood the same way that their father had been killed, and as it turned out Xavier had killed him. She didn't flinch at that, she didn't care anymore. To her, all that mattered was the kill. Keela pointed in the direction of the black market for the Tracker Jackers. Well, of course she couldn't go to their father, asking for money to kill him with, so she decided to steal it from the black market. Disguising herself with some black fabric, she went into the thriving place, and calmly picked up the jar of Tracker Jackers sitting on the table between her and the seller. When she began to walk away, the guy didn't appear to happy, and came around to take them back. Which was fine with her, because if she couldn't beat up her stepfather, she sure as hell could beat up a tracker jacker guy.

She could have left easily by threatening to smash the jar then and there. Instead she placed it on the ground and roundhouse kicked the guy in the face, the trail of blood flowing from it, mixed with mucus and something else telling her she had broken it. After that, there had been a lot of fists flying, Avon had probably broken a rib or two, she had a couple of good bruises, and she had taken a shovel handle to the back, but the good news was that she escaped from the place relatively quickly, and only had to beat the living hell out of five adults, and four teenagers like herself to do it. She was sore, but happier she had been in a while. The pleased look on Keela and Riley's face was enough to make her happy when it came down to it as well. She could ignore the pain in her body just by seeing how relieved they looked, if not a little pale and guilt- ridden they already felt.

She bore witness to the killing of Xavier Lightwood, watching as the life slowly drained from him with the terrible stinging as no one came to his rescue. Saw when the jacks became uninterested and flew off. And even as her siblings began to run away, she walked purposely over and kicked him hard in the hard, and then ran after her siblings to await the news of yet another death, the fate rather similar to the other Lightwood brother. Things went the same way as the other death. Mother dearest packed herself up in her room again, but the atmosphere was strangely weird. The Lightwood children actually appeared happy? Even the four year old born from Xavier's seed seemed calmer without his father there.

Chyba, was his name. Not many of the Lightwoods like him. But Avon loved him. She loved the way he need someone. In the weeks after the murder of Xavier, Riley locked himself in his room, and no one else seemed to want to deal with the little boy. So at first she begrudgingly took care of him. But ever so slightly, she began to adore him. Chyba was a wonderful boy, noting like the monster of his father, and Avon grew to love him, even as she couldn't seem to remove herself from the shell of training and books she had built for herself. To show her love for him, she read to him, the way her father had, and played with him, showing him a fort that she and Riley had built what felt like decades ago.

She took care of the kids for a while, exhausting the hell out of her, until soon enough, Riley came out of his room and things slowly began to go back to normal. By the time four years later rolled around, Willow had a new beau, and had pretty much left the taking care of children deal to Riley, who leaned on Avon for help as well. She remarried, Avon ready now for a new terror, and all the children on edge, wondering if the new man would be friend or foe. It wasn't long after that she told the children that they could expect another sister or brother soon, resulting in Avon shaking her head in disdain for her mother and leaving the room. Because just what Riley and her needed was more stress. Oh joy.

ANYTHING ELSE ?

There is something that I must confess to you tonight
To you tonight
And that is I expect nothing less from you tonight
From you tonight

OUT OF CHARACTER .

FACE CLAIM .
EMMA WATSON • AVON MIONE LIGHTWOOD

OTHER CHARACTERS ?

Click.

I, ELEGANT .
am a cat, I'm a kitty cat, and I dance dance dance, and I dance dance dance. I'm a cat, I'm a kitty cat, and I dance dance dance, and I dance dance dance. Hit me up by pm if you wanna talk to me, or ask for my oovoo if you wanna get ~*personal*~

CODEWORD . odair