Mystic "Mystical" Solaire | District 6 {FIN}

Mystic "Mystical" Solaire
Age— seventeen.
District— Six.
—odair.
fc: soley sigurpors
the stars are held within her very eyes.
a flourishing galaxy flows through her veins.
and dreams delve deep into her brain.

♕

.:Personality:.

“Thief! Thief!”

Thief?
I am no thief, well at least not in my eyes. I suppose no one would necessarily understand the struggles that I face. I am no thief. I take, take, take, but I also give, give, give, I’m no selfish being. I take what is needed most, and I give to those who need them, including myself. Everything I've ever gained from such a dangerous game, either came from the pick-pocketing of unfortunate wanderers throughout the District, or was cautiously snatched from the shelves of markets. Taking perspective from one who couldn't empathize with me, even in the least bit, they'd suggest my very morals as corrupt. In their words the only thing that defines me is thievery.

Distrustful. Selfish. Immoral. Greedy.
The very words that escape the mouths of those who know little to absolutely nothing about me. My friends, my family, the people I help, to anyone who has ever made time to know me, they'd describe me as courteous, kind, helpful, accepting and considerate. I usually can always be seen wearing a smile, whether it be physical, or in my eyes on a bad day, I always try to look for the light and positivity in moody situations. My life is definitely not the ideal one, but it's the only one that I live and I've come to find acceptance in it. Creative. Imaginative. Accepting. Understanding. Risk-taking. These very things define my true personality, whether people choose to see it or not. I hold a deep passion for art, drawing and painting are my life, not just a simple hobby. I tend to find myself sitting upon my rooftop, a blank canvas sitting in front of my, legs folded, eyes set focused on the stars. Both Astrology and Astronomy were things that interested me deeply.

Thievery. Solace.
More and more recently, shadows begin to settle on the place that I love the most, the celestial kingdom ruled in the unlimited boundaries of my imagination. My mind becomes troubled by the emptiness from within. It all began with a 'perfect' start that some would perceive as 'rocky'. I am still running to the finish line, or at least trying my hardest to. Over time, I've slowly been coming to a halt to finish, I've began to cease from finding motivation. I'm jealous. I'm jealous of the lucky ones whose lungs aren't corrupted, while I fortunately pass day by day, heaving. I've gradually become accustomed to the poisoning, burning sensation that one gets when downing the sweet solace of the 'weak'. Injecting purity into my veins to roam with the galaxy that flows inside, I've found peace in even the hard times. Even through this I must wear a smile, it is what people want to see the most, right?

—

.:Appearance:.

“How'd you get your hair like this?”

Whenever walking anywhere, this seems to be the topic of discussion. It is simply, really, blackberries. Blackberries were the remedy for my lavender hair color. Mashing up the blackberries, working them into my hair after, then letting them sit for hours before washing it out is what causes a darker shade of purple, then it begins to fade out. My original hair color is a light dirty-blonde, one that I never grew fond of. My hair had a lot of ways to get on my nerves, whether it becomes flaky, tangled or frizzy, it never worked with me. I gradually learned to accept it and let it do what it wants, which is why people see frizzes and wisps flying about. My hair had the tendency to stick to my oily skin whenever the hot sun would beat on me. I sweat fairly easily, but that's due to me always being outside and either working at my shop, or snatching items off of others.

My eyes are a very prominent feature on my face, they stood out the most, besides my hair. I believe they are mystic, full of wonder, and secrets. My eyes are big, and though people compliment me on them, I don't necessarily like it, I feel as though they aren't evenly spread apart. I tend to wear stars on my lower eyelid, many don't understand the reasoning behind it, but I feel as though it suits my personality. My eyes sit just below the trim of my brows that follow the trail of them, up until the curve and peak. I've never been a true fan of my ears, as I feel as though they are too big for my face, therefore I hide them behind my hair. My second most noticed feature, in the eyes of others, are my lips. They sit upon my face with little added plush, the bottom being more than the top. Naturally they are a darker shade of pink, which I feel works with my pale skin very well. My build is less than average, I am skinny and weigh in at about one hundred and ten pounds, more or less, and most likely less. I've always been more thin than the rest of the teens my age, so I am more used to it now.

—

.:History:.

“When you're seventeen, a wealthy prince will have the things you want. He'll have a giant diamond ring and golden crown, he'll build a palace just for you. He'll love you with all his might, and he'll never leave you, just like I won't.”, my father was always a man of many words. He used to be so full of happiness, creativity, and imagination, must be where I get all of mine from. On the eve of my eighth birthday, he spoke these very words, reassuring me that I will soon find happiness in such a lost reality. He was such a caring, hardworking man, he was popular throughout the District, always helping around and giving a friendly attitude to everyone. He was the kind of man where one would think everything went absolutely well for him, that he got everything he ever wanted in life, but that's where one would think wrong. It's hard to fully think of him as gone, because I don't fully think of him as gone and out of this world, reality, yes, but gone entirely, no. I can sense his presence with me in the hardest and best times, and so, I do not fully believe in his passing.

“They've found out, Mystic. I need you to be strong and watch over them, I'll be back soon. I promise...” My brother was a caring and kind one, even if he cause ruckus occasionally. In the eyes of the District, they would describe him exactly how they describe me now, a thief, distrusting, greedy, selfish. My brother was a known felon, going against Peacekeeper authority, stealing mass products at a time, pick-pocketing from anyone in sight. He was a taker, and it was his game, it was all natural for him. He didn't take because he was selfish, no, he took it because his family was in need, just like how I provide for us now. Ever since our father passed, due to a work tragedy with sabotaged machinery, my older brother was deemed the man of the family. However, things were not like this for long, you see. Several years passed by, my brother getting away with tons of loot and everything was going great, until one tragic day. I can remember back to the very day, he ran into the house, flustered and rambling about nonsense, it was as though he was stuck in tongue twisters. “They've found out, Mystic. I need you to be strong and watch over them, I'll be back soon. I promise.”, I tried my best to reassure him that everything was going to be alright, although I absolutely had no idea that nothing would be alright. Several minutes had passed by, until the peacekeepers were knocking vigorously at the front door, they were here for my brother, and weren't going to leave without him. He had committed crimes, plenty of them, for our survival and to him he saw that as nothing wrong. I can vividly recall him lashing out in self defense, I was so young back then, I couldn't help him, and then it was all done. A shot to the chest. A body to the floor. A person to set the blame. My brother was dead. Gone. In an instant, and I couldn't do anything to save him.

Years and years. Months and months. Days and hours. Minutes and seconds. It was mixing together evenly, and by this time I couldn't necessarily recall back to how much time had passed by since such tragedies, all I knew was that it felt like eternity. An eternity had passed by ever so slowly, and I grew accustomed to taking my mind off of counting time. Since the tragedies and deaths of my father and brother I have grew to be the alpha of my home. My mom was always too full of lethal toxins to do anything, she was out of control. While I shared my mothers sweet solace, I was more in tap with how to handle myself. I followed exactly in my brothers footsteps that he left in his track, and I could only hope I don't meet the same demise as him. My job was to provide for my family, and that doesn't come easily. About everything we've ever gained was from emptying shelves, or pick-pocketing wanderers. Meanwhile, I held a passion for art, drawing and painting. To gain extra money I would create artwork and sell what I could in the town square at my little hand-made vender booth. It wasn't very successful, but I made little sales from here and there, earning spare change in my empty pockets.

♕

misc.— #964cda