Argonite Shore // District One

It's not hard to pick Argonite out of a line-up, especially if that line-up is comprised of Shores. Next to Opal, he smiles the most. Catch his gaze across the room,in the market, or even class, and it's there, that ever present smile. And it isn't a grin or a smirk. There's genuine positive feeling flowing through Argonite, embodied in the set of his white teeth, his flat lips, and the vaguest impression of dimples. To smile so easily has certainly gotten him into trouble; when listening to a lecture, or being ushered into a time-out, Argonite can't help but fix that smile to his face, sometimes ironically, sometimes rebelliously.

The rest of him is pretty unremarkable. Hair of a forgettable color. Heavy eyebrows that he's just started to groom, after pestering from his bevy of siblings. A nose without any flare, and a body that's just starting to fill out. He's never been tall or gangly, but there was something missing in the transition from childhood to man. Now that he's eating his weight every day, he's finally starting to retain some muscle. It's not really something he worries about or even thinks about. The Shores have plenty of money to keep him in fitted clothes, so what does it really matter?

The one obsession Argonite allows himself is hats. Fedoras, caps, beanies, straw, cowboy, you name it, he has it. It's his style, his flare, his signature, other than that welcoming smile. And you might think that's it, that's all anyone can about Argonite: nice guy, great smile, strange fetish with hats. Only, you'd be wrong.

The real irony about Argonite is of course, his name. An inert gas that blankets flames, it is better at putting out fires than starting them. Not Argonite. He is the cheery candle burning too close to an outlet, a warm campfire spreading embers into a dry forest. For the vast majority of the time, Argonite is easy going, attentive, even kind. You would expect him to show up with brownies to help his friend over a particularly nasty breakup, or go over the latest Capitol vid in detail with one of his siblings, until it had been thoroughly dissected and understood. To his friends, this is Argonite: stable, reliable, good guy. To the Shores, this is the hot summer before the forest fire. The time he spends being the good guy is appreciated, cherished by some, but his temper is always lurking.

The real truth of it is that Argonite likes those rare explosions, those moments when the room goes silent and everyone listens to his harsh, often hateful words. This kitty has claws. He doesn't plan to snap, can't control it, and yet there is a release when it happens. A clarity and a high unlike any he has known, even in training, even in spending time with his favorite siblings. He's definitely not the most stunning Career produced by the Shore family, but at least he has a marker, a way to stand out from the pack.

Argonite buys into the Shore propaganda hook, line and sinker. He is always early for the film viewings, whether they are for training in the off-season, or the nightly recap of the Games. There are few things he enjoys more than being surrounded by his family, listening and sometimes mediating the discussions on strategies. It is comfortable for Argonite in a group, where he can blend in easily, and be there when someone makes an awkward joke and needs the nice guy to laugh. And Argonite has a rare laugh, richer than his newly cracked voice, and as genuine as his smile.

Being in the middle of the brat pack Shore siblings came with plenty of advantages. He can model his social interactions after Phena, and his training after Opal. Of course, with so many competitive siblings, there's bound to be friction. It took Argonite years to be anything other than the punching bag. But with enough abuse, enough taunting of his wild child smile, he finally snapped. His first outburst, at the age of eight, came at the dinner table. He had stuffed himself with creamed spinach, which had stuck between his teeth. When he smiled, one of his siblings teased him that if he didn't brush his teeth right away, all of them would rot, and then who would care about him?

It started off with a flush of tears, and then Argonite was screaming, screaming incoherently. Don't you tell me what to do! Don't you even look at me! You don't deserve to!. This he said when before the only words on his lips had been those of acceptance and love. He'd spent the rest of the night locked in his bedroom, rocking himself. It took him, and provocation, but it happened again. And again. Argonite cannot predict the eye of the storm, but he relishes the brief burst of power that comes with breaking character, letting the dark into the light.

And it is in those moments that he is neither Phena nor Opal. He isn't even in the same league. Phena would never lose her temper so publicly, and Opal has none to speak of. When Argonite loses control, he is more like Pyrite, his very least favorite of his siblings. There could be understanding there, learning how to control the anger. Instead, Argonite avoids his sister as best he can, choosing to sit at the opposite end of the couch or table. He judges and envies how she embraces her darkness. It is the illusion of control he craves, the ability to force down that nauseating anger. But once his stomach is one fire, he can do nothing else but spew all of the yin of anger and hate to his status quo yang of love and understanding.