Bronn | District 2 | FIN

Living like a rat on the streets, just as it sounds, it isn’t exactly a pleasant livelihood. Having a different type of shelter every night, foraging for food, always having to look behind; that’s how Bronn was introduced to this world. Nobody to guide him but the fellow rodents that kept him company, learning the tricks of the streets from the well-aged professionals. Even in such a lavish District like Two, the life of a street rat is just the same as any other District, just the scraps that are left behind are more tastier.

Dragged up wearing rags,Bronn rarely ever saw his reflection, he just had others describe it for him. He had to make do with broken pieces of mirrors, puddles and shop windows. But as soon as he struck the deal with Tyrion, he was able to prune his appearance to whatever he liked. Light green eyes, finally he was able to see them clearly in a pristine mirror. Dark brown wild hair, tamed slightly to the style that he liked. Food quickly began to fill his plate, he was no longer the long scrawny boy but alas fat slowly resided on his gut while his muscles were aided by the ideal nutrition.

Although nothing will help wipe away the marks that are scattered across his body. Permanent bruises and scars, caused by the street fights and his father’s rage. Probably the most distinct scar is on his chin, the result of an unfair fight, where blades were involved. He didn’t stand a chance from defending himself from the bloody attack. Forever he is reminded of the unfair lifestyle that he had to begin in his life but thankfully he has something brighter to look forwards too. Now he no longer wears the rags, instead he is draped in the finest garments, provided by his friend.

Unlike most of those that surround him, Bronn is more down to Earth, after all he has experienced the worse and the best stages of the world. Growing up with nothing, he has learned to be appreciative of having very little. Even if he is now getting everything handed to him on a plate, he doesn’t overdo himself with the gifts. Wanting a life that is in the middle ground, he tries to deter himself from the upper society lifestyle but doesn’t venture too far away from it. He’d rather not step back into the life of poverty that he grew up knowing.

Having to look after himself, Bronn had to grow up in maturity quickly so has the equivalent life experience of a thirty year old than that of a sixteen year old. It’s as if he has been there, done that and has the scars to prove it….quite literally. Obtaining a great mindset, Bronn has the necessary life skills to survive, he may not be intelligent in the academic field but he sure does possess a great deal of common sense. He probably has more common sense than the rich kids of the Capitol who are put through the finest schools.

Sharing the streets with many different types of people, Bronn met his fair share of drunks and whores. Being able to have a taste of their poisons, Bronn does enjoy a good little drink now and then a woman in his bed. Whenever he is not accompanying his friends, he is usually sneaking alcohol from the taverns and inviting ladies of the night to his bedroom.

Brought up seeing death and pain, knowing what is the right and wrong thing to do is hard for Bronn to get the grasp of. Never scolded for being naughty, Bronn doesn’t exactly have social discipline and isn’t affected by other people’s emotions. That’s why he is the muscle of the group. Unconcerned with the rightness or wrongness of something, if he is given something to do by anyone, he’ll just do it; disregarding any of the possible consequences which may follow suite.

Entertaining himself any others with his dark sense of humour, many a times, he pains someone with his dark witty words although most of the time he gets the room laughing. Teasing people to get them to like him, he usually likes to pick on Tyrion lightly although is usually told when to limit his harsh words.

Born in the poorer parts of District Two, Bronn was an only child. Dying before his first birthday, his mother was taken by illness so he was left with his father. Dragged up by the scruff of his neck, as soon as he was able to walk, his father tossed him out on the streets while he was on his periods of drowning his body in alcohol. Befriending many of those in a similar predicament as him, Bronn believed his only family were those outside of his house. He could rely on them for comfort, for shelter and food. They provided more for him, despite having very little than what his father did. Bronn only occasionally returned home when his father was sober, if he did ever venture home in his drunken episodes, Bronn would be granted with a few punches to the face or a bottle thrown at his head.

When he grew older, Bronn found himself joining an illegal street fighting betting ring, taught to fight with his bare knuckles, he was put up against opponents similar to his age. Spotted to have some hidden talent in fighting, Bronn was taught to use weapons. Even though they were broken swords, fake replicas of tridents, nothing compared to the resources in the training centre.He still excelled in most things thrown at him, the organisation he fought under gained a lot of money from betting in his fights so paid for him to go into the training centre.

If it wasn’t for the kind benefactor, he wouldn’t be living the lifestyle he is today. Meeting the rich family named the Lyons, Bronn struck a deal with one of the members, Tyrion. Something about a family dispute, Bronn willingly accepted to be Tyrion’s muscle, for a fair price. Not questioning anything, Bronn is pleased with the income he is gaining from the deal. Only caring about the money and working on his fighting skills, Bronn is saving his money for when he passes reaping age so that he can buy a decent house and a few women to be at his side.