Bastian Fray ; District 1 — fin

For a last name to carry as much weight as his own, Bastian could careless the power it gave him among the rest of District 1 with it simply being something he was born into. He had not earned his place among his family until he could prove himself in the games, which became an obsession that mirrored every other Fray Career. The obsession only grew with age as cherished moments of childhood would only consist of becoming a good swordsmen and an even better hand-to-hand fighter.

He was only six years old when the weight of a sword fell into his grasp as he was directed to strike hard into a fellow trainee; not because he had to do it but because he needed to prove his wrath was there. He had to have the ability to strike someone down who did not deserve it, and it was at this young age that he proved he was truly a Fray as he cracked the skull hard until blood pooled out over the floor.

 

Moments like this carried forth through his training as everyone grew to fear the moment they had to turn their back on him; for he was known for striking those at their weakest. Bastian became one of the most ruthless children to train in becoming a Career because he felt his place among those around him had to be proven. No one really whispered about those within the Fray family, but he could see the looks on everyone’s face when they didn’t think he was paying attention. They never had to prove anything to carry their name, only be born.

This reality bothered him so much that to be a Fray was to not be born into it, but to be born from it. He wanted to make the name more than recognizable; he wanted to make the name feared more so than it already was. He would die in glory no matter if it was within the games or within his own district; glory was his to possess.

When the child of wrath became a boy of war, Bastian knew that his destiny was playing out perfectly without missing a single step. Every boy and girl of the district falling for his practiced words and constant promises of something he would not truly give them. He took more than he gave, and this made him feel superior to everyone around him.

Training only cemented these thoughts in his head as his fist were drums of a promised war, and he made use of them every chance he got. Fights among the other Careers being a regular occurence as his mouth had no need to pause, and his hands had no need for rest. His knuckles may have been made out of bruises and cracked bones, but he refused to stop using them if it meant protecting the reputation he fought for.

When fighting became more of a chore than a necessity, Bastian found himself roaming the district for darker work that could push his limits; work that had the potential to ruin him. It was exhilarating to think that he was putting everything on the line that he had worked for, but months passed before he would truly commit to something damning.

Someone by the name of Kolt gave him a chance to become apart of something that no Fray before him had. It was his destiny opening its mouth and letting him peak into the heart of it all. To say that life got complicated would be such a laughable statement as complicated meant there was confusion and twist that could ruin you. This life was more than complicated; it was something far more than that, something uncomprehendable to Bastian.

For a little over a year now, Bastian has driven himself to become more than a Fray. The legend of his last name becoming useless to the man he is now. With bank heist and beds made of money being a commonality for him now, there is still the hover of the part of him that still has Fray attached to himself as the games could easily take him away. There is so much power in living a double life that he would risk everything to keep them. It is just a question at which one will be the first to take his life.