Jasper Dandarian D12 {fin}

Name: Jasper Dandarian

Age: 17

Gender: M

District: 12

Jasper Dandarian always got what he wanted.

Part of the reason was his well-groomed look. There was no denying that Jasper has a natural attractiveness to him, but he went out of his way to make sure he looked good before leaving the house each day. The ability to do so was a rare privilege for a District 12 resident, a fact that didn’t go unnoticed to Jasper. He was grateful for it, but at the same time, he didn’t feel bad for those who fared worse than he did. Every morning, he would rise out of bed, taking his 6’1” body to the bathroom to get ready for the day. At 17, he was almost at his physical peak. He was fit and sturdy, but not overly muscular. He was comfortable with his body, but never felt the need to show it off, which is why Jasper didn’t wear too much tight clothing. When with friends, Jasper could normally found donning his leather jacket, a valuable item the original owner had never claimed from his his parents’ pawn shop and that they’d decided they’d rather keep than sell. It was a gift for Jasper on his 16th birthday, when he started working in the shop. When working, Jasper made sure to be as groomed as possible, hair combed neatly to the side and dressed in a crisp button-down, sometimes topped with a dark sweater.

Of course, aside from dressing nicely, Jasper was always quite the looker. That doubtlessly helped him sway others, especially customers, to his way of thinking. Unlike most merchants’ kids, Jasper didn’t have blonde hair and blue eyes, a byproduct of his paternal grandfather originally being a Seam resident. Jasper didn’t mind his coffee-colored hair and chestnut eyes, however. They contrasted well with his pale skin, which he had inherited from his mother. For some reason, no matter how much time he spent in the sun, Jasper just couldn’t tan, so his face was a constant cross of light and dark, which he always used to his advantage.

He could move one eyebrow at a time, creating quizzical facial expressions that were equal parts amusing and challenging. “Could I possibly be wrong?” he would ask silently, one eye raised above the other. “You trust me, don’t you?” However, his most effective, most attractive feature was his smile. Not overly radiant, but rather coy, “I know something you don’t,” it seemed to say. On another person, it would create a sense of distrust, but not on Jasper. He wielded it masterfully, flashing it just at the moment when another was most vulnerable. It created a sense of inadequacy in the person, a feeling that the only reason that they hadn’t already agreed with Jasper was because they didn’t know enough to see he was right.

Jasper Dandarian always got what he wanted.

Nobody was immune to his charms and witty tongue. Jasper was gifted with natural charisma, an understanding of others and how to appeal to their desires. Add that to his gift at mathematics, and it should come as no surprise that his parents decided to let him work the register at their pawn shop when he was only 16 years old, instead of 18 like they’d planned. When he was in his element, working the customers Jasper emanated the skills a trader who’d spent more time in the field than Jasper had spent on earth. His specialty was dealing with women, especially the desperate ones. The poor often had no idea just how valuable the belongings they were bringing in were. They just cared about getting enough money to last them a few weeks, maybe only a few days if they were really struggling. Jasper never let them down, but he also made sure to undervalue their items enough to let his family turn a profit whenever the district’s wealthier residents, even Peacekeepers sometimes, came looking for some new trinket to take home. After all, the downtrodden residents of the Seam, and even some of the relatively middle-class residents, almost never had enough money to buy back their possessions. With a few well-placed words, the proper posture and gestures, and of course, his signature smile, Jasper made sure unsatisfied, himself least of all.

Jasper Dandarian always got what he wanted.

He never felt bad about cheating his customers. That’s because he didn’t think he was giving them a poor deal. Sure, their possessions were worth more than he paid them, but if he gave them the net worth, the business would fail. His parents would have to close the store, and where would they all be then? Undervaluing the goods was the only way to keep the shop going, so if anything, the customers should be thanking him. They always walked away with some money in their pockets, just as they had hoped for, and they knew that next time, Jasper would be standing at the register, ready for another deal. At the end of the day, thought Jasper, it was all about economics and survival. He did what he needed to in order to survive, well, maybe a little more than just scrape by, and that was that. After all, even if he might not admit it to himself, Jasper was reliant on the relatively comfortable lifestyle he had. He wouldn’t have been able to handle the conditions of the Seam. So when it came to doing business and tilting deals in his favor, he didn’t gain satisfaction from it, well, maybe a little, but he certainly didn’t feel bad about it.

Jasper Dandarian always got what he wanted.

In school, he surrounded himself with like-minded individuals. Not sheep or brutes who couldn’t think for themselves, but people who would usually agree with what he said, but who would dissent every so often on a given idea or plan. Jasper lived for those times, when he could take on the challenge of persuading intelligent people that he knew best. After all, it was pretty easy to cheat a poor bottom-dweller out of some cash. It was a whole different story when faced with a worthwhile opponent. Over time, however, his friends came to the realization that there was no arguing against Jasper once he had his mind set, as no matter what someone said, he always seemed to be able to throw it back and turn it against them. When it came to making decisions, Jasper knew the rest of them well enough to subtly manipulate them, pulling them to his side. Yet, as everyone would testify, Jasper was always courteous. He was extremely well-spoken and never raised his voice to make his point.

Jasper Dandarian always got what he wanted.

Except when he didn’t.

And that’s when all hell would break loose. Because Jasper didn’t just have a temper. Oh, no. He had a beast inside of him waiting to be unleashed, the moment things went awry. In the rare instance someone got the better of him, when he encountered opposition he couldn’t tear down with his charm or his wit, Jasper would turn red as a tomato. His mannerisms wouldn’t change, but on the inside he’d be boiling. The next time anyone would see him, he would have dried blood on his knuckles. “I fell on my way home,” he would say, or on the way back, or walking down the steps, any lie that served as an explanation.

Only he knew the truth. When he would get home, his punching bag would be waiting. He had gotten it when he was 8, to deal with his anger. Before that happened, he used to throw anything in his room that wasn’t attached to the walls. When that wasn’t enough, he would attack the walls themselves. He would throw a series of punches that would leave the wall with as many dents as it left him with cuts and bruises. Nowadays, that sole bag in the corner of his room served as the sole target of his frustrations. Whenever he was fuming, he would picture the cause’s name and face in his mind, take a bold red marker, and draw it on the bag. He would then yell and scream, punch and jab, until his throat and arms were equally sore, until all he could do was collapse in exhaustion and stare at the bag, eyes filled with hatred. Eventually, that too would fade, and Jasper would stand up again, composed, fix his hair, and move on.

Only Jasper and his family knew the truth. His parents had seen his anger issues develop over time. They were the ones who had bought him the bag, after all. In all fairness, it was probably more so because they grew tired of covering up the dents than anything else. Not that it completely fixed the issue. Jasper’s anger, when severe enough, caused him to ignore the bag and turn back to the wall. He needed to feel the pain of his fist colliding with something solid. It was just another challenge to see what would give first, the wall or his skin. When Jasper was that angry, his parents knew to stay out of the room and leave the kid alone until he had calmed down. It wasn’t worth the effort, and he was bringing in too much money for them to want to anger him further.

Jasper’s brother knew this too. But he hadn’t always. Zach, three years Jasper’s junior, had always had a kind heart. Even now, he worried about Jasper’s health. But when Jasper was 9, Zach 6, the younger brother walked in on Jasper during one of his episodes. He saw the wounds on his older brother’s hands, and being the young, innocent, caring boy he was, Zach had rushed forward to see if his big brother was OK. Instead, he became Jasper’s new target. “What are you doing here? You want some of this too?” the older boy had yelled. Punch after punch, the Jasper assaulted the little boy. It was only when he realized that there was blood on his lips that he’d stopped, instantly reverting to his usual self.

“I’m so sorry,” he’d cried. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Zach. You’re my brother and my responsibility, and I’ll never let anyone else harm you like that again.”

Jasper had taken quite a scolding for that incident, but afterwards, he stayed true to his word. He never laid another finger on Zach, and over time the two built up a strong brotherly bond. Yet Zach still wonders to this day, what would happen if he were to enter Jasper’s room at an “inconvenient” time. He won’t try to find out.

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The door to the pawnshop opens, and in steps the newest customer, a bearded, middle-aged man holding a pendant of sorts, clearly intent on peddling it away.

Jasper stands behind the register, top button of his shirt unbuttoned and hair carefully combed to the side. “Hello,” he greets the man, a friendly look on Jasper’s face. “Welcome to the Treasure Trove. How can I help you?”