James Delahunt - District 10

James Delahunt is a rather tall man, standing at a respectable six foot and two inches in height. Lean, with a somewhat muscular build, blue eyes and dirty blond hair kept cut short due to the correlation between length and untidiness, he doesn’t make too much of an impression in the crowd. He blends in rather well and prefers to do so. He’s not an overly showy guy, so blending in in plain sight is perfectly fine by him.

As for clothing James is for the most part unconcerned with his appearance. He never was one to keep up with short-lived fads for a certain colour or fabric or design. Generally he sticks to functional, nondescript clothes. However he does on occasion pull out one of his old uniforms when he needs to make a lasting impression. With its sharp creases and intimidating dark colour the uniform couldn’t be more of a contrast to his normal apparel.

He only has a couple of features that really count as distinguishing. The former is the tattoo on his arm, two crossed swords and a shield bearing a red dragon, which was the emblem of the mercenary company to which he belonged. The other is the scar on the abdomen from where bullet managed to find its way past his protective gear and do the job it was made for. Thankfully it didn’t do too much damage, but that scar isn’t going away any time soon.

James’ personality is an odd one considering. Despite his location he doesn’t like Panem much. He’s mostly there to keep bread on the table. He misses his home more than anything else, but at the same time dreads thinking about it, since thoughts of home bring thoughts of why he left home, and bring the nightmares that haunt his mind to the forefront. While seeming fine most of the time at nights his old experiences bob up from the waters of his mind and often he wakes drenched in sweat biting back a scream.

To outside eyes though James is rather normal. He works hard, helps people out where he can and is generally a nice guy. When he was at home he was always the person you went to when you had a problem. That’s as true in District 10 as it ever was. Whenever someone is in trouble he’s willing to help, although he might ask for a fee if the “favour” seems too close to a proper job.

However James does have a wider view of the world than most people do. He travelled extensively abroad before coming to Panem and has seen several of the districts, moving between them both legally and illegal. His education is better than many Panemites, while mostly self taught he was also able to absorb whatever information he wanted, he didn’t have to cope with the Capital’s district career tailored, propaganda tinted education system.

James is an anomaly. He was not born in Panem. His home is not Panem. Until a few years ago he’d barely heard of Panem. But Panem is where he finds himself and he makes the most of it.

James was born thirty seven years ago in a small village in the Carlingford islands in what was once Ireland. Just as America was wracked by natural disasters and war and became Panem so was Europe. But unlike Panem no unified nation emerged. Instead a mixture of small city states, self-proclaimed empires and isolated communities emerged. The political situation is fluid. Democracies, autocracies, technocracies, theocracies, socialist republics, proletarian dictatorships, monarchies, full blown anarchy. All of these and more have at one point or another managed to strike themselves up in Europe.

For his early life though James knew none of this. His village was one of the few in that area and was a peaceful little place. But eventually a group of people heard of the conflict further afield and thought they could make their fortune. They dug up an old symbol and declared themselves a company of mercenaries. James, not appreciating what he had, was one of the first to join, aged just 16.

For a few months they trained. They ran through woods and learnt how to use knives and bows. A couple even had guns so old they were antiques. By the time they were done training they thought themselves able to take on anything.

Then they were hired and thrown into the maelstrom of post-collapse France. After 73% casualties in that first job they lost their youthful zeal.

James was one of the lucky ones. He was hit, but the bullet was a ricochet. Had it hit him full on it might have been a different story, but as it was he lived, and he learned. Over the next decade they fought up and down Europe. They guarded petty tyrants and then deposed them as soon as their opponents offered more cash. They killed rebels and police just as readily. They began to lose their humanity to blood and money. Except James.

As nearly all of his friends fell in battle and the fighting continued without end, James asked if he could retire. Having served long and well he was permitted to do so. He retired as a mercenary aged 27. He tried to return home after that, but he just kept seeing the places where friends should have been. The empty stools at the tavern. The absent voices in the conversation. The missing faces in the street. After a lot of consideration he decided he needed a fresh start, somewhere more stable than Europe was but without all the bad memories of home. He heard of Panem from a trader and decided that its stability made it a perfect prospect. He sold most of his possessions and bought passage on a boat to District 10, where he took a job for a time training Peacekeepers in hand to hand combat. He got to travel from district to district from time to time and even saw the Capitol on one occasion. But after a few years he decided enough was enough. He retired again. But now with no job, no family and precious few friends James has little to do but weigh his options.

Well this is completely and utterly terrible, I await your tearing apart of it with bated breath