Jason Knight {D7} `fin`

=-={info}=-=
{ jason josef knight
{ district 7
{ male
{ fourteen, as of the 64th games

=-={family}=-=
Alex Hood }
Alexander Hood Phoebe Lionel }
Owen Rook }
Jason Knight }
Ellie Bishop }
Orville King }

=-=-=-=-=-={appearance}=-=-=-=-=-=

Despite only being half-siblings, there is an undeniable resemblance between me and my brothers — particularly Owen, as pointed out by literally everyone since the 63rd Games. "You look just like your dead asshole older brother!" Yeah, real nice guys. That's exactly what I wanted on my mind right now. The selfish asshole reason I ended up in the community home to begin with, with constant nagging supervision and no freedom to do as I please. Phoebe took one for the team, but you had to go and throw away everything she worked for, huh? Yeah, thanks. Jackass.

So no, I don't give half a shit that we share the same hard blue eyes, the same sandy blonde, lightly tousled hair. Same thin nose, same smirking lips. The similarities end south of there, however; my jaw comes to less of a point, and my face is altogether smaller, not quite as long, not quite as broad. Basically what I'm trying to say is Owen is a block-head. My features are all in all more serpentine, more elegant — unless, of course, you are Ellie and you want to point out that I could definitely pass as a mouse, as soon as my whiskers start coming in. Yeah, if only. Much as it pains me to admit, I'm still growing peach fuzz.

I'm waiting for the day I get the last couple inches I need to be taller than Owen. He was tall and broad, but I'm still all lank and all speed. And still growing, but my limbs are pine, strong yet slim. In that regard, I'm more like my dead big sister than my dead big brother. It's nice, though, being 5'11" and still growing. I'm gonna beat him on height, I'm pretty sure. Fingers crossed. It's nice being slimmer, too, cause even though I can't lift quite as much, I am certain that I am much quicker. That's why that tiny girl got the better of him, she danced like a reed and he was a lumbering live oak. So I think if I were reaped ever, I'd stand a pretty good chance of winning. I mean, Owen made it as far as he did, and Phoebe did just as good. Would've done better if the ice hadn't split. They did that on purpose, I bet.

=-=-=-=-=-={personality||history}=-=-=-=-=-=

It was cool that her buddy won, though. I remember seeing him on tour, all haunted looking on the stage. And he gave all those tokens to Owen, and I still think we ought to have sold them. In fact, I plan on it. We got Mace's back with the dead asshole in the pine box, so we still have that complete set. I found the rest in an old pair of his boots after he left for the Capitol, and I'm just waiting for a buyer now. Might get enough money to buy back that little house we used to live on out in the outskirts of town, down by the woods. It can't cost that much, cause it definitely was a shitheap. Ripred knows where our mother's gone off to now, but to be honest, I couldn't care less. She was a bigger asshole than Owen. Honestly.

I haven't told Ellie about the tokens, cause Ripred knows she doesn't need anything else to get all up on her high-horse about. I can picture it now, her disagreeing with me for the sake of disagreeing with me, whining and telling me that I am wrong and stupid. And using the word 'heirloom' over and over again. "Jason, they're family heirlooms at this point, you can't possibly want to sell their tokens. They're special, Alexander and Owen wore them into the arena, which makes them heirlooms and you can't sell heirlooms it just isn't right!" Something like that. At least as annoying. And honestly, I don't see what's so special about them. A broken bit of twine, a little brass coin. Wow, so cool you guys. A bit of smooth wood used to patch a boot hole, strung up on a shoelace — seriously, just because it was around Phoebe's neck when she died doesn't mean it's any kind of special or useful at all.

Mace's — Owen's too, that asshole token moocher — is admittedly kind of neat. Seems like the sort of thing you'd only get out of District Ten, which is a lot more interesting here in Seven than a bit of wood on a string. I made sure I grabbed it off of Owen before he was put in the ground. I never got a chance to examine it before then, and I didn't really like it at first because it was too detailed, really. It's a bone carving of some kind of animal skull, and it was really irritating to try to rinse the dried blood out of all the little facets in its surface. Pain in the ass, let me tell you. It's neat, though, and if I end up selling the other tokens individually, I could maybe see myself keeping that one.

Probably not, though. I mean, it's not exactly useful for anything. Yeah, it looks pretty awesome, but what am I gonna do with it? It isn't as if I could wear it anywhere without getting mugged — and even if I could, I wouldn't, because nobody just wears stuff like that. On anyone but a tribute, little pins and brooches and crap look ridiculous. Even on the tributes they look kind of funky. I have an eye for the little stupid things like that — and let me tell you, there have been a lot of stupid tokens. Rings and necklaces, sure, fine, whatever, but there's been some weird stuff in the Games I've seen. One kid — I remember, Phoebe cut his arm off in the bloodbath — had a bar of soap, even. And the girl with the note from Owen's year, that half the arena started crossing things off on. Oh, the Capitol had a field day with that one. Maybe it was kind of cool, smeared with all sorts of ash and blood and partway eaten by those weird moths.

Still, I don't really get it. Maybe cause I've never really had something that resembled a 'home' enough to want anything to tie me back to here, if I was one of them. If I have a family but I don't really like them, does it even count as having one? I mean, I don't remember much of Alex, I was six when he died. Maybe seven. Phoebe was awesome, the rare occasions she was home, and she did so well in the Games, too. Most of the rest of my brothers and my sister were pretty grim when she died, but I just remember being proud. It was so much better the first time I had a tribute for a brother. And after she died, Owen turned into an asshole, of course. I never much liked him before hand — thought he was bossy — but afterwords he was so much worse. Cause he's four years older than me, and I'm older than the only siblings we had left at that point — and he didn't have Phoebe to take orders from anymore.

We used to butt heads a lot. I think that was more him than me, though, even if I tend to butt heads with everyone. Isn't my fault that I do, I swear. Owen's an asshole and Ellie's a smartass, so what am I supposed to do, let them be? So I was always at odds with Owen before he went off and died, and I'm always at odds with Ellie, who's just stepped right up and filled the role of thinking she's in charge of everything. Completely ignoring, I might add, the fact that I happen to be a full year older than her. At least Orville and I are okay usually. He's mostly just quiet.

I don't bother talking much about my past ever, mostly because everyone already knows the story. Whole mess of half-siblings, cheap hooker for a brood mare, the oldest ones keep dying off once they hit a certain age. Gee, how thrilling. Haven't heard that one half a million times before. And even if they hadn't, who really gives a rat's ass about some broke little orphan-y kid? I don't want to be someone's sob story. That's not what I'm about. So I've been doing my own thing, really. Ellie keeps warning me not to get mixed up in any bad business, but I can handle myself just fine. Honestly. I swear she just needs something to get all holier-than-thou about, the little freak, always on my case about something or other. One week it'll be about staying out too late or cutting class, the next it'll be over the apple I lifted from the market in town — which wasn't even good, I might add.

Back when I even bothered taking my progress reports home from school, they used to say things like Jason has serious problems with authority and there has never been a time in my life where I haven't taken that as a compliment. I don't like being told what to do, and I see nothing wrong with being independent and autonomous. I may only be fourteen — and not to play that card, but I've been through some crap — and as hard as it may be for some old people to understand, I actually know what the fuck I'm doing. I can handle myself just fine, and everyone who thinks they know me better than I do — well they can just fuck off.