Entaelia Lanine D2 {FINISHED!}

Entaelia "Tae" Lanine
Sixteen
Female
District Two

Appearance

The sunlight reflects off of my pitch black eyes as the knife lodges itself in the center of the target. With a flick of my wrist, I send another one flying. My tall shadow casts over the grass while I'm throwing knives. I whip my last knife to the target, striking it in dead center again, and strands of hair fall into my face. I thought I bound my hair tight enough, I think as I sweep the black hair out of my eyes and pull tightly on my long ponytail. It's summer, so I might as well hone my knife throwing skills before training starts again.

People always say I'm pretty, and screw them, because I know that. I've heard them repeatedly tell me like I'm deaf. Sometimes I want to scream "SHUT UP!" in their faces. Sometimes I do. They point out every single positive feature I have, like how I'm thin and tall, or how my hair is "pretty". People never point out that because I'm thin and tall, I look like a stick. Or that it takes an awful long time to keep my hair "pretty" and not looking like a chicken nest. And my feet are awful looking because of all the blisters and calluses.

My arms aren't exactly "weak", but they're not that strong, either. I have enough strength to get a good lodge in a wall with a knife, but not enough to swing big machetes. I can run pretty fast, and I'm agile, too. My stamina is adequate, but my defense combat skills stink. For me, it's either attack or die. I wear things that are flexible enough for training. I don't wear sassy dresses and I don't paint my nails pink. In fact, that's what I despise most about girls. The ability to look preppy and pretty translates into the ability to look weak, in my language.

Personality

My full name is Entaelia Yue Lanine, but everyone just calls me Tae for the sake of taking out three syllabus. Why wouldn't you want to make something easier if you can? I do it all the time. If you can't, well, just live with it. The "try your best, no matter what" thing is for losers. If there's no point, would you still try your best? I wouldn't. Otherwise, I do believe in the "try your best on stuff that actually matters" thing. I strive for perfection. And I like to do it alone. If I could do something, I would rather get full credit instead of half credit, or worse, less than that. A part of the team is never enough.

I do agree with people who say I have a fiery temper. It is true, but under some circumstances I can manage to control my rage. They say I always try make myself perfect, which I do. I am the artist, I am the canvas. I paint myself to perfection, or at least I make it my biggest goal to. There's no room for mistakes in my life, so I have to get it right the first time. If you're talking about school, that's no problem, because I succeed academically. If you're talking about training, then, that's harder. Our training program focuses on everything, from spear throwing, to archery. I'm terrible when I use swords, or spears, and I don't have much patience to improve.

I hate preppy girls, because, well, they're just stupid! They spend their whole day gossiping, and talking about makeup tips and that junk. No, I have never considered other peoples' point of view at the situation. I've never imagined how it would be like in their shoes. That's what makes it easy to be mean to them. And when I myself get treated likewise, I feel worse. I don't want to start pitying people, because if I did, I would have a hard time killing people if I were in the Hunger Games. And that's exactly the opposite of what the trainers trained us to be.

History

Academics were pretty much everything to my identity when I was a child. I went to a special kindergarten for smart kids, where they taught us stuff we wouldn't see for years. Later, when my parents decided to stop funding my education there, I moved to the public school. My time there was life changing. I started to hang out with real people and train with real people, not just a bunch of nerds. I started training in first grade, which was late for my age, and I learned that I was pretty good at throwing things. I had thrown baseballs, books, spoons, and whatever I could find when I was a kid, so what difference would a knife be?

Sometime, when I was 12 or so, this kid named Braco started bullying me. Well, Braco picked the wrong girl. Everyone feared him, because he was the school's worst bully. Possibly because he was extremely ugly. Once, he challenged me to a fight with weapons behind the school, and when I slashed his arm, he ran home crying. My parents didn't get that mad at me. This was a kid twice my size who was trying to kill me, and I beat him. My uncle gave me a diamond coated dagger as a gift, and I told him, "It wasn't that hard! Turns out Braco is just a crybaby!". I still accepted the diamond dagger, though.

Another time, some muggers on the street tried to kidnap me. They were at the wrong place, at the wrong time, with the wrong person. I was just coming home from training, so they got beat pretty bad with these metal rods I had. I wouldn't say my combat skills with metal rods is very good, but it was good enough to take out a few muggers. I didn't expect them to expect that this little girl could defeat them. Some peacekeepers helped arrest one of them. And then again, I should of did this myself.

More and more of training developed me as I showered dummies in knife blades. My accuracy improved with each throw. I was also trained to use knifes in hand to hand combat, along with swords and spears and bows, but I preferred the knife. It was small, like me, not a giant monster, but it was still very lethal, like me. My schoolwork was less focused on, now, but I was still an A student. School flew by every day so I could return to my favorite activity, knife throwing. Somehow, it let my anger out into the blade and though the air, away from me. Striking targets and dummies, I bet at least 10 tons of rage were peacefully let out.

odair