odette king } { district four | fin

["If the morning light doesn't steal our soul-"

An enchantress, born with a heart double dipped of gold and poison. The dance of modern warfare is displayed with the gracious complexion of her body as it shimmers and shines brighter than the night sky. An allegory of virtue hidden in the swaying motion of her body and the sweet droplets of crimson blood, sweat and tears that descend along her tender frame.

A goddess made pure and true, ruling over the serpentine and dragons. An armor of beauty is made fragile, for show is its only purpose. An armor of iron is made strong and durable, hidden deep within her layers. A ferocious and fierce demeanor is marked with the words that escape her plush lips. A raging fire slips from deep inside and it only takes but a few mere seconds to catch aflame. She is a goddess made pure and true, ruling over the serpentine and dragons.


The girl of the night.
A shot in the dark, and blood runs deep in a pool of thick, burning, crimson fluid. The heir to a bloody throne, her gentle words result in spilling of blood, of those to who she is uncaring for. The embers of a burning fire breathed from her lips and the smell of smoke lingered with each syllable that marked its count.


A stream of faded smoke blew from between her subtly parted lips, a fire ignited in her lungs. A cough wasn't followed, for a dragon has breathed fire for its whole lifetime.]


A serpentine elephant carved to perfection, resembling its owner, hangs down upon a chain. Laid along her neck, the elephant carries a treasure on its back. Held between her nimble fingertips, her gentle, plush lips kiss the side of the elephant for good luck.

["Teenage girls-"]

Creating the rules to be followed by none other than the group, she is the leader. Dishing out the punishments if they are not, she doesn't care to lie between her teeth. Her career born mindset holds her demeanor above the radar, and her innocent appearance is a tool for manipulation and chaos.


A private school education, Odette was born into a strict household. Holding the intelligence of a mastermind on not only the games, and survival, but she rivals her classmates as top of her class in her academy. The King Wood Academy for girls is a prestigious school, letting students only enroll with excelled scores and knowledge. 

["There's something about them-"]

Living a double life, Odette was born to a strict household growing up. Her father used to be a leading academy trainer, it was a natural talent of his to fight and train, doing so for a majority of his life just like her. Odette's mother is the head mistress and owner of the King Wood Academy, raising innocent girls to be trained for blood lust for over twenty years.


A life lived in wealth resulted in the desires to be left fulfilled. Odette was always the favorite child of her very few siblings, being the oldest of them all. The most obedient in her parent's eyes, she holds a respectable and strict-taught in their presence. However, when she is let loose, she unfolds into who she truly is, unseen for the marks left of her real ways. Her parents are blind to anything else but thinking their little angel is what they always raised her to be.


Odette's personality resembles the dragons and serpents. Fierce, manipulative and chaotic. Blood lust cakes along her finger tips at the sensation of sweet victory over opponents in training. She is vicious and one who tends to break others rules, rather than follow, only staying true to her own principles.

["Something dangerous."]

Her long, black hair cascades down from her head to her mid back. Her tan skin resembles the beaches and shoreline's along the ocean, as the crystal tides roll in. Staring into her abyss of eyes, they stare back at you with nothing to offer, but a lot to take in.

"As you stare into the abyss, the abyss stares into you."

Odette's features resemble that of her mothers around the same age. A glimpse of true perfection coats along the eighteen year-old girl, however nobody is perfect, no matter how much they seem to be. A scar, grotesque and unappealing, is traced by a steady finger tip, along her side and towards her back. Cut almost to perfection in a diagonal, a suture line scar that never healed completely, from surgery that happened as a child. It is one thing she wishes she could change, but will have to live with.