Artemis Valencia / District One

the sun is bleeding and the ash is snowing

There's a good deal of people that Artemis doesn't like, but girls who obsess over make-up and hair are probably at the top of that list. She's never been especially fond of what her district deems "proper" - shoes have never been her style and one could not wrestle her into a skirt if their life depended on it. She doesn't give a damn about other people's opinions, not when the majority of them are just stupid masses of muscle that think they can accomplish anything with the swing of a sword. No, Artemis will wear what she wants, thank you very much, a wardrobe that mostly consists of ripped up jeans and worn canvas sneakers of an undetermined color. She avoids the world of glamour and glitter as much as possible, preferring to smirk at the faces of other teenage girls, which happen to very closely resemble preschool crayon drawings in her opinion.

The only girly feature she allows herself to have is her hair, a tangled mess of blonde locks that hangs down to the middle of her back. More often than not she pulls it back so that it doesn't get in the way during training. Her features are hard and sharp, conspicuous cheekbones and hollowed out cheeks evidence of the many strange diets she goes on in an attempt to reach physical perfection. Cold, icy eyes appear to always be judging, picking out flaws and deficiency with ease. Willowy limbs are far from all skin and bones, with awkwardly rounded muscle sitting atop delicate bones. Artemis doesn't smile often, but when she does it's a dangerous tilt of her lips that strikes a fear far deeper than any glower ever could. Artemis is far from fragile - she's small but mighty, and anyone who bothered to spare her more than a passing glance would realize that in an instant.

in the distance the fire is growing

Artemis Valencia was bred to hunt and born to kill.

At sixteen years old, she's more of a machine than she is a girl. She seems too young to be such an intense, passionate Career, but she is. Murder is wired into her brain, a practiced art that sometimes feels like the only thing she's good at. Artemis hears the other girls twittering about their dreams if they don't become a Victor. She's spent hours listening to Ro rambling on and on about how she wants to be a jewelry maker when she grows up. For Artemis, there is no if. She will go into those Games, she will kill each and every one of those teenagers without mercy, and she will wear that Victor crown. There's no doubt in her mind about it. That's why she trains so hard, and forces her mind to effectively block out all distractions - such as boys or nail polish - and focus on learning twenty ways to kill a person with her bare hands.

While Artemis excels in almost all areas of weaponry, she has a particular fondness of archery. It's everything she strives to be - quiet, clever, and lethal. Gripping the bow and staring down her target, she often looks the very picture of the goddess for whom she was named, a statue built in her honor until the string releases and suddenly the young girl is very, very real. And yet, a good shot is never enough for Artemis. She doesn't want to be good. She wants to be great, she wants to be perfect. She wants to to win, because winning is the only thing that ever makes her feel like she actually has a purpose. Her twin often tries to give her the 'winning isn't everything' lecture, but usually she's halfway across the room before he's even gotten warmed up. He should know that she's a lost cause - by this point, victory has become the equivalent of survival in her mind.

Though she may seem cold and courageous, there are a few things that Artemis fears. At the very top of that list is her father's hand. Her entire family fears it, really, but Artemis always seems to take the worst of his blows. And yet, that hand is something she admires, too, for the bruises and cuts it leaves on her shape her into the master Career she is. In a sick, twisted way, she needs that hand to push her to do her best. But that doesn't stop her from breaking down and cowering in a corner, the very opposite of her nature, when he brings it down upon her mercilessly. That is the only time Artemis Valencia ever cries. Maybe that's why the idea of killing doesn't bother her so much. Maybe that's why she almost anticipates it, adrenaline shooting through her veins at the thought of taking down her opponent.

Deep down inside, Artemis wants them to know how it feels to be just as broken as she is.

the trees are shrinking and your heart is sinking

Artemis and her twin were named for the circumstance of their birth.

The two were a result of their father's affair, which he had kept secret for a good long time. When Eva, his mistress, became pregnant, she swore to tell no one. After all, Lawrence had a reputation to keep - what would people say if they found out that such a rich and powerful man had fallen for street scum after her? But things did not go well. The first child's birth went smoothly, but had weakened an already malnourished Eva immensely. A few minutes after the second was born, she passed away, her last instructions to the healer being to take them to their true father. The twins caused a large stir in the district then, seeing Lawrence did not deny that they were his. His wife was furious and almost refused to accept them. She only gave in when he reminded her how badly it would look if they did not take care of the twin babies. In bitter spite, she named them Artemis and Apollo, after the god and goddess her were born as a result of Zeus' affair.

The wife, Felicity, named all of her children after gods and goddesses with the ridiculous belief that it would make them great. Over the years Artemis' many half siblings came up with nicknames for themselves - Aphrodite, for example, instructed everyone to start calling her Ro upon her tenth birthday. However, Artemis liked her association with the goddess of the hunt, and chose to keep her name.

The little girl grew up with a father who had a large distaste for her because of all the trouble she had caused him. As a result, he forced her to train harder than all of her other siblings, reminding her of how worthless she was to him if she wasn't a Victor. He told her she was even worse than Apollo, because at least he was an heir, while she was a despicable female with absolutely no purpose other than bringing her family fame and fortune. When insults stopped working, Lawrence started using beatings to keep Artemis on the right track. He wired into the little girl's brain the ways of killing, telling her it was all she would ever be good at. It was abuse and everyone knew it, but no one dared stop him - not even Apollo, who loved his twin more than anyone else.

The first portion of her childhood was when Artemis cried the most, feeling a horrible mixture of hurt and hatred toward herself for never being able to meet his expectations. Gradually, however, she began to harden over. She learned to be cold and cruel, to claw her way up to the top without even bothering to care about who she hurt along the way. The beatings lessened in frequency as she became better in training, though they never stopped altogether. The approval of her father was always what Artemis strove for, though she never realized it. In her mind, she was doing it all because she wanted to. She was a cruel killer because she was born that way. She never even thought about her father as she drove the arrows deep into the hearts of the dummies. She blamed it all on herself, calling it her nature.

Artemis grew up hating herself, and she didn't even know it.

yet you've never felt more alive

Codeword : odair
Faceclaim : Ksenia Komleva
Lyrics : Ashes Ashes, by Katie Costello
Notes : Partly based off of the goddess Artemis