august anders | district two | f i n

ミSailor彡
Merchant

226 POSTS

last seen Aug 10, 2015 9:38:42 GMT -5

i decide what the tide brings~

august anders | district two | f i n Jul 11, 2014 21:19:10 GMT -5

Post by ミSailor彡 on Jul 11, 2014 21:19:10 GMT -5

Name: August Anders

Age: 18

Gender: Male
District/Area: Two

Appearance:

sometimes i'm adorable~

Personality:

sometimes i'm silly & dance awkwardly

History:

& sometimes i'm super serious and in black & white

Codeword: O D A I R +
Other: ben whishaw <3

Last Edit: Jul 14, 2014 21:06:02 GMT -5 by ミSailor彡

-sailor's scouts-

dreaming of a lighthouse in the woods

ミSailor彡
Merchant

226 POSTS

last seen Aug 10, 2015 9:38:42 GMT -5

i decide what the tide brings~

august anders | district two | f i n Jul 11, 2014 21:27:01 GMT -5

Post by ミSailor彡 on Jul 11, 2014 21:27:01 GMT -5

I wake up with a splitting headache, the kind that feels like your skull in splitting into two. The throbbing runs from the nape of my neck to the crown of my head, like needles being drug across my scalp. This is only one of several painful spells I've endured over the last two weeks. There's something wrong, I feel it creeping in my bones. Could it be the years of pushing myself to be the career my mother wants me to be? The exhaustion, the way my body is pleading for a break, everything just shutting down on me... It makes perfect sense. I see it during my training sessions and I've been getting a lot of slack for not being able to perform the way I used to. I hardly talk to my mother about the pain thats been dominating the majority of my days because she just keeps demanding more from me. I'm sure if I could just have one week to rest or even just cut out a few training sessions during the week, I'd be back in the game. Mother would never have it though.

The headache reaches it's peak and it blurs my vision as I stumble my way to the bathroom, knocking over odd and ends throughout my room and the hallway. I hastily run the sink and throw handfuls of cold water at my face, as if I could drown this horrible pain from my body. This is by far the worst episode I've had, by far. I grab the nearest cloth to wipe my damp face dry and as I look into the mirror in front of me, I see my blurred reflection slowly come into focus. There I am. Well, for as much pain as I'm in, at least I still look good. Wavy, chestnut brown hair covers my ears. I need to visit the district barber soon, because the heat is starting to get unbearable with hair this long. The headaches sure don't help either. I pull the skin below my eyes down and lean in closer towards the mirror to examine my pupils. My eyes are an odd grey-green color that most people have a difficult time immediately identifying, unlike blue or brown eyes. When my vision isn't blurred from the headaches, I've taken notice to my pupils dilating during every painful event. The more excruciating the pain, the bigger my pupils grow. I've been relating this to the lack of sleep I've gotten the last few months. The late nights and early mornings might have gotten a lot accomplished but the crows feet I've developed are anything but flattering.

I lean back away from the mirror and let out an exasperated sigh. This mornings headache has finally fully subsided but all I can do is wait for another one to knock me off my feet. I remove my night clothes and jump into the shower, letting the warm water run over me, wishing it could wash away all the pain and torment. I'm 5'11 with a lean, muscular build. My height is misleading because with clothes on, I just look tall and lanky. But without clothes, you can easily see my muscles defined. It'd normally take a lot to take me down but apparently this fact has been ignored by whatever has been plaguing me. I run my hand over my chin and feel the stubbles of my morning shadow. I start to contemplate whether I'm going to take the extra five minutes this morning to shave but thats when I hear the loud stomping coming up the hallway. I hear the decorations hanging on the wall shake, anticipating for something to come crashing to the floor, as a fist bangs against the bathroom door. "August, boy! Get your lazy ass out of the shower! You were supposed to leave for training ten minutes ago!"

Oh, my mother. My tormenter. The reason behind the exhaustion and lack of sleep, standing right outside the door. I'd tell her to piss off and let me rest if I wasn't such a firm believer in respecting my mother. If only it was someone else that had decided to make my life hell. She's hardly noticed my headaches, always running off to more important things. When I take the time to mention the headaches, she shoves me off to training. "Some excersize will get you feeling better," she'd always say in her peppy, fake voice. My whole life, she's been the stereotypical district two mother. She's been sending me off to the training center five days a week since I was seven. She's always been so busy using her children to impress her hoity-toity friends and whoever else that I doubt she'd even notice if there really was something wrong with me. When us kids complain about the strict training schedule she has us on, she always replies with, "Honey, I do this so that if you ever get reaped, you'll survive and win!" But I know somewhere, deep down in my heart (~~i still love you~~) that she doesn't want us to win for the sheer fact that we'd still be alive but because one of us winning would give her infinite bragging rights throughout the entire district. She'd wear that accomplished smug to her grave.

As I arrive at the training center, I'm amazed at the fact that I haven't been attacked by another episode. We all go through the motions for the next fews hours, some of us enjoying it, some not. This entire building is always filled with such mixed emotions, day in and day out. I'm not sure where I fit in here. I'm respected because I'm good at what I do but whether I'm proud of that or not is still a mystery to me. I'd venture to say that my IQ is probably miles higher than 85% of the people that frequent the training center. For some people, things like hand-eye coordination and depth perception come naturally. For me, the key to everything to do with killing, or anything really, comes down to calculation. Angles, degrees, measuring wind patterns and even the thickness of the air can play a part in whether you slice someones femoral artery or just knick their elbow. When I take my stance to aim, whether it be a knife or a bow, just a few seconds of math in my head gets the blade where I want it to be. Others tease me and say I should have been born in district three, and most of the time I think they're right. With three's resources, I probably could have done a lot of good for Panem.

We're in the last hour of the training day and I'm motivated because my head has been clear since I've gotten here and I feel fresh again. I bounce on my toes as I grab a throwing knife and set my sights on a far off target. I try to focus but for some reason, I'm failing. I shake my head, trying to lock my sights on my target but something in my brain is screaming at me. The knife slips from my hand and I watch it, confused, as it falls to the ground. My vision start to split in two as everything seems to start spinning away from me. The feeling is razor blades dragging across the insides of my skull and it immediately brings me to my knees. The pain shocks me again, ricocheting throughout my body, causing me to twitch uncontrollably. I look up and the world is tilting from side to side, I see blurred figures running towards me and suddenly I'm on my back. My hands instinctively holding my head, pulling my hair, just trying to redirect the pain somewhere else. All I can see is fuzzy, pixelated, nameless faces hovering over me. Muffled voices shouting unrecognizable words. My last coherent thought before everything goes black. This is it.

Light. I see lights. Blurred pigments, like watercolor paint strewn across a canvas. Furniture starts to come into focus and I realize I'm not dead. I'm in a room I don't recognize. I'm startled as a cold hand touches my arm. My sight still hasn't fully come back to me but I turn my head and instantly recognize the figure attached to the ice cold hand as my mother. I'm convinced that a lecture is coming my way. Something about how somehow this all happened because I didn't work hard enough or because I'm not the best. But instead, as my vision finally focuses on her face, I'm met with a somber look. Empty eyes. "Oh, shit." The words escape me because I've never seen my mother so upset and vulnerable before and just the sight of her old sunken eyes, filled with tears brings me to the realization that something must be really wrong. Her look takes a sympathetic draw when she see's how confused I am. "What happened, mom?" My voice strains to escape my throat. She grabs my hand and I still can't help but notice that she's freezing and trembling. "You- you had a seizure at the training center. Collapsed right there in front of everyone. They've been doing tests to see what caused it a-and-" I feel her hand squeeze mine as I watch her walls break down and a waterfall of tears dance down her cheeks. I see guilt, curling her face up, wrinkling her forehead and pursing her lips. I know she's taking blame for whatever she's about to tell me. The way she ignored my headaches, pushed me to train, never let me hear the end of how I'll never be good enough. And if I didn't love her the way I do, if it was anybody else, I'd have blamed her too. Because what she was about to tell me goes against everything she wanted from me. If something were to happen to me, she'd rather me die an honorable death in the Games. She'd be sad to watch me die on the television but wouldn't be able to watch me die right before her eyes. The more I think about this, I come to a sudden realization. Why the hell am I still caring about how this effects her? Why can't I just consider my own feelings for once? Because what she's about to say could change my entire-

"You have a brain tumor."

-life.

made by remi of i'm so curious

Last Edit: Jul 14, 2014 23:31:14 GMT -5 by ミSailor彡

-sailor's scouts-

dreaming of a lighthouse in the woods

ミSailor彡 Merchant 226 POSTS last seen Aug 10, 2015 9:38:42 GMT -5 i decide what the tide brings~	august anders \| district two \| f i n Jul 14, 2014 21:00:51 GMT -5 Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by ミSailor彡 on Jul 14, 2014 21:00:51 GMT -5 finished~ & i hope whoever reads this enjoys my random 'best cry ever' reference hidden somewhere in there <3
	-sailor's scouts- dreaming of a lighthouse in the woods

cass
Retired Staff

4,822 POSTS

last seen Oct 24, 2021 18:11:43 GMT -5

august anders | district two | f i n Jul 14, 2014 21:07:41 GMT -5

Post by cass on Jul 14, 2014 21:07:41 GMT -5

Hiya Sailor! Can you pretty please just separated your paragraphs, when you scroll down it looks like one giant block of text and it makes it difficult to tell if you've reached the minimum requirements for your bio. Thank you! ^^

ミSailor彡 Merchant 226 POSTS last seen Aug 10, 2015 9:38:42 GMT -5 i decide what the tide brings~	august anders \| district two \| f i n Jul 14, 2014 21:15:08 GMT -5 Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by ミSailor彡 on Jul 14, 2014 21:15:08 GMT -5 Done! Sorry about that~
	-sailor's scouts- dreaming of a lighthouse in the woods

cass
Retired Staff

4,822 POSTS

last seen Oct 24, 2021 18:11:43 GMT -5

august anders | district two | f i n Jul 14, 2014 21:49:53 GMT -5

Post by cass on Jul 14, 2014 21:49:53 GMT -5

Hiya Sailor!

I understand that he has a brain tumour and all and I can see that you have researched how it affects you and such but I'm still feeling as though it is a bit unrealistic.

"I could probably confirm a tumor growing somewhere on my brain without all the fancy medical equipment that doctors require."

A top notch career that trains five days a week probably wouldn't know much about a brain tumour, let alone being able to diagnose himself with such a condition. I doubt the first aid skills they gain in career training are enough to allow them to treat and name a brain tumour.

Not only that, but how does he manage to hide all the symptoms from his mother as well as the people he trains with for five days a week? Brain tumours cause sever pain in ones head and without pain relief or treatment the pain is a lot worse. Let alone the fact that exercise means the chances of gaining a headache or having a fit increase tenfold. For someone to go months into training before having a fit seems rather unrealistic.

I think you need to look it up and research it a bit more. I've been reading up on it myself and from what I can see you've systematically listed off symptoms, not everyone has the same symptoms and some people have completely different ones. The likelihood of him going months without anyone noticing (especially considering is career training schedule) is extremely unlikely. In fact the symptoms change depending on what part of the brain the tumour has affected (here).You have an amazing character here so far, but can you please just do a little bit more work on this and make it a little bit more believable.

Thank you! <3

-- Cass

ミSailor彡 Merchant 226 POSTS last seen Aug 10, 2015 9:38:42 GMT -5 i decide what the tide brings~	august anders \| district two \| f i n Jul 14, 2014 23:32:57 GMT -5 Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by ミSailor彡 on Jul 14, 2014 23:32:57 GMT -5 And fixed! (at least, I hope) Hopefully this is a lot better, let me know if anything else needs to be changed. Thanks again for the tips, Cass <3
	-sailor's scouts- dreaming of a lighthouse in the woods

cass Retired Staff 4,822 POSTS last seen Oct 24, 2021 18:11:43 GMT -5	august anders \| district two \| f i n Jul 15, 2014 0:04:43 GMT -5 Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by cass on Jul 15, 2014 0:04:43 GMT -5 A better improvement! Good job, Sailor, I hope you can expand more and delve more into his character as you write with him! Accepted! <3