Mira Akua | District 12 | Complete
Apr 9, 2011 16:30:34 GMT -5
Post by Mira on Apr 9, 2011 16:30:34 GMT -5
Name
Age[/u]:[/color] 17
Gender[/u]:[/color] Female
Height[/u]:[/color] 4’5”
Weight[/u]:[/color] 60lbs
Hair & Eyes[/u]:[/color] Unbound & Long | Brown
Mira has long, naturally straight, soft brown hair that’s just a few inches from her waist. She almost always leaves it down behind her shoulders, mostly because she doesn’t bother with her hair and it doesn’t really matter to her anyway. Her bangs are so long that she can sweep them off to the left side to cover her brow and they’ll still reach her shoulders. Very rarely will her hair come forward, usually staying in place or falling back into place with a shake of her head. Rarely will Mira cut her hair, usually letting it grow out and getting it cut when it goes past her wait to just below her shoulder blades; however, her hair tends to take time to grow so once it’s within a few inches of her waist it takes several months to actually reach her waist. One reason Mira never bothers with hair styles and doesn’t seem to care about it is because she’s blind.Markings[/u]:[/color] Scars | Bruises
Despite having been born blind, Mira’s eyes retain the charming eye color of her deceased mother, Misaki Yajyuam. Her irises are a considerably lighter shade of brown than normal though, some almost saying it’s yellow or golden. Her eyes however don’t betray her emotions like normal people’s eyes would. They’re often blank and vacant—as if she’s staring off into space or having a seizure. Mira’s eyes are usually closed anyway, simply because opening and closing her eyelids seem to take unnecessary energy she needs, or at least that’s what it feels like to her. That and it’s just about the only fun she can have half the times when she's not depressed—making people who don’t know her at all think she’s sleep walking to her death, which is a rarity seeing as no one new really comes in until it’s time for the Hunger Games.
If one were to take an initial glance at Mira they would most likely wonder why she’s still alive or at least think she’s harmless… but if they actually got to talk to her and paid attention to her wrists they’d notice some thin lines there—on either wrist. Each little scar isn’t more than inch at the most, and in neat straight lines too, but very rarely will her cuts actually draw blood. Most of the scars will disappear in a few days because they’re mere flesh wounds, and extremely meager ones at that. They’re barely noticeable unless someone knew to look for them because of her pale skin tone. Most people only notice the ones where she intentionally went deeper to draw out blood since they heal back over with a vivid red line against her near corpse-like skin. She’d taken up bodily mutilation some years ago and though she’s stopped doing it on a daily basis, it’s a habit she returns to when things become increasingly difficult or stressful for her—or when she’s just craving a little blood which is starting to become more and more common for her.Overall[/u]:[/color]
Her love of blood isn't something most people know about, but since her cutting is starting to get deeper again here and there because of it she has a habit of holding or hiding her hands/arms in a peculiar way that does arouse attention—something she doesn't quite like. Her habit isn't natural though, requiring her to actually pay attention to what she's doing and forcing herself to hide her wrists. Because of this she usually winds up walking into something or someone more so than usual because she's too pre-occupied with hiding her wounds and teeth markings since just about no one she knows actually enjoys the taste of human blood enough to cut their own body up to drink in the precious liquid. And those that have found out about her odd diet usually don't take it too well on both themselves and her.
Asides from those scars, it’s not too uncommon to find Mira with bruises throughout her body. Being small for her age, usually mistaken for a child, she can easily be pushed around by most anyone, or anything for that matter, added in with her blindness and the terrain’s tendency to change, Mira gets more than her fair share of bruises, welts, and cuts. And of course, being malnourished as she is, it takes her longer to heal and recover from her injuries, though not by much considering the whole district is mostly malnourished themselves.
For the most part, Mira is usually in one of three outfits. During the warmer seasons she’s in short, dark colored shorts and a pale tank top. In the colder seasons she’s typically in dark jeans (usually worn with a belt), a pale colored tank top with a collared white shirt under a dark colored sweater with a semi big v-cut in the front, and depending on how luck she’s been she might have on an equally dark jacket or coat. On the rare occasions the District Citizens need to dress up somewhat, she’s got clean, soft white jeans that go about a hand away from her ankles and a pale, light blue tank top under an unbuttoned pink dress shirt with thin blue and white stripes, the cuffs generally rolled up twice, barely revealing her wrists. And as for shoes… it’s usually boots or tennis shoes with short ankle length socks. And unconventional as it may be, she usually wears flip-flops with her so called ‘formal’ wear, probably just because when they do have to wear formal clothes the terrain’s pretty smooth and clean underfoot, and she can tell where people are pretty easily so she doesn’t have to worry as much about people stepping on her feet or walking on or near something dangerous.
Almost always, Mira has a small, thin hair bow that fits snugly over her wrist. Though she doesn’t put her up often, she still wears once since she does occasionally put her up on the rare occasions it’s bugging her or if it’s extremely windy outside and her hair is whipping her face mercilessly. She doesn’t carry much with her either, except for maybe a very small amount of pocket change—usually whatever cash she can scrap up from dumps and small, enclosed areas where most other people can’t get in to. However, when she ventures out into the forests, she’ll keep her pockets filled with small stones, smooth or rough.
Her color scheme, largely being dark colors helps make up for her small size and child-like appearance, but not by much. Most people dress in dark, drab colors anyway. The brighter clothes usually always go out to the Capitol and the Districts were left the old clothes of the Capitol, usually faded out and worn down, or dark colored, dirty, simple clothes. Very rarely were there people about with the richer colors or fabrics that the Districts usually almost always saw on the Capitols (or in some cases… the hated Upper Class Districts). So, due to her small size, being well below the average height for girl’s her age, and maintaining the body of a pre-teen (seeing as she has little to no curves in her own opinion when in reality she’s got a decent set, and her clothes don’t emphasize any of her curves what-so-ever), as well as near flawless skin (save for the odd bruise here or there and the scars on her wrists) she can easily pass for someone who’s not yet turned twelve. Her voice is pretty quiet and soft too, giving most people the impression of a child since her nature appears to be shy anyway, so the small, quivering, shaky voice of someone who seems to take everyone and anyone’s word as truth helps.
Then there’s the matter of her actual body type. Obviously small, Mira has other assets. She’s generally weaker than most people her age, at least in District 12, largely due to her size and the fact that she barely eats enough to live, which is unfortunate because she’s got a fast metabolism, so perhaps she does get enough to eat but she just metabolizes it too quickly. Either way, her metabolism adds in to her hunger pains. The one feast she had attended in her life, thanks to Physia, should’ve been enough to last her until the next day… but by dinner time she was starving again. Over the years she’s gotten used to it and is able to ignore her hunger pains for the most part. So, in a sense she does live up to her ‘fragility’ pretty well. It's this so called fragility that makes her somewhat stubborn as well. She particularly hates it when people go out of their way to help her because of her size or blindness.
Still, the Capitol has her official records so it’s pretty easy for them to make sure she doesn’t avoid the Hunger Games or anything. Too bad the Districts don’t care too much for struggling children since they’ve got their own families to worry about. Maybe in the old days before the age of Panem she could’ve gotten some sympathy and lived a much easier life, but here? Not exactly.
Hobby[/u]:[/color] Daydreaming | Storytelling | Listening to birds
Sexuality[/u]:[/color] Bisexual
Fears[/u]:[/color] the Hunger Games
- Love
- Herself
- Ending the Capitol/District segregation
Strangely enough, despite her deeply buried hatred and violent nature deep down, she initially opposes violence. Mira’s a fair enough of a fighter though, at least when it comes to the basic usage of a sling.Overall[/u]:[/color]
She may be blind, but her blindness has allowed her to develop her other senses beyond what’s the norm. Her senses aren’t anything as amazing as a dog’s, but it’s better than most people. Still, she has a small body and a body type that’s not built for close combat. Close combat would practically be suicide for her. Mira specializes in ranged fighting. Her hearing’s good enough that she can usually figure out where something is, depending on how far away they are from her.
In an area about the size of a room all she really needs is to hear them breathing, provided the other noises about aren’t too loud, and of course, if they’re heavy breathers it’s even easier to locate them. Practice from years of dealing with blindness and then having Phyasia tech her how to fight has enabled her to accurately pinpoint not only their location, but also general details like a possible height and distance they are from her, which more or less means she can throw things at them that should land somewhere close to where she intended them to land. Bows would have been something she’d learn… if only she had enough strength needed to wield one. Instead, she stuck to slings and throwing knives. They were easier for her to carry around anyway, and most slings could be fashioned from materials at hand. Another aspect was that she could tell the differences in creatures on sound alone, as long as she was familiar with them. She could generally judge how heavy something was too, seeing as louder footsteps usually indicated heavy-set people or large prey in some cases. Sound is usually her primary weapon when it comes to fighting.
Her sense of smell has developed over the years as well. Hunting with Phaysia has taught her to be able to locate springs and streams pretty well once she’s in the general area of them and there’s some wind about. Freshwater sources tended to be surrounded by some form of vegetation or another that wasn’t grass. Flowers, lilies, animal urine, and so forth. It wasn’t too hard for her to figure it out once she was in the general area. Touch helped out a lot too, at least when she was trying to identify various plants. It didn’t help much in actual fights though, unless maybe she was tracking something and noticed how a bush’s leaves or grasses’ stalks brush across her skin strangely. Taste didn’t really affect her battles though, but could help out a little sometimes.
Of course… having increased senses does come with its drawbacks. High pitched noises could easily give her a headache, at the very least irritating her. And of course, if there was a lot of noise going on, it made it more difficult for her to focus on which particular sound she wanted to focus, even more if all the sounds in the area had the same tones. Overly strong scents, like perfume or scented candles could also give her headaches and irritate her, confusing her sense of smell easily if she was overwhelmed with a multitude of scents all at once. As for touch, it made getting used to different terrains a little difficult—it was why she didn’t like walking in tall grass much unless she had jeans. The grass might be prickly and annoying to someone else, but to her it’s itchy and irritating enough to promote her to burn a field of grass down. Burns, well heat in general, tended to be a little strong, making her sensitive to temperature slightly. And as for taste… well, for one thing bad food didn’t taste bad… it tasted horribly, horribly, horribly distasteful.
And there’s also the matter that she needs to be in range for most of her sensitive senses to work, except for something like smell, at least when it came to strong scents, or hearing when it was loud enough. It’s not much help if she has to be in an area roughly the same size as a bedroom to even make proper usage of her abilities. Obviously, she’s had to learn how to hide herself well enough for rabbits and the like to disregard her at the least. And then there’s the matter that even though she can throw projectiles… her projectiles usually aren’t strong enough to actually kill something upon impact unless it was something small like birds… Sooo once she’s launched an attack she better be able to scram outta there or else whatever she hit will know her location. Thankfully, she’s got a pretty decent foot speed.
Overall, she’s a pretty 'decent' hunter, if not a bit lower, according to Phaysia and Lushin at any rate (so in reality she's really not that great...). Her senses make up for her blindness and her speed and size make up for her low strength. She might be able to hold her own against another human, especially if it’s a long, drawn out battle that she’ll be able to use a ‘hit and run’ tactic in, but she’s not quite looking forward to having to do that any time soon. For the mean time she’ll settle for easy game animals. She might not catch as much as other hunters… but at least she gets some sometimes.
To most people Mira seems to be a pretty harmless girl who doesn’t amount to much. She’s blind, her parents are dead, she’s practically skin and bones, and she doesn’t have any extraordinary skills to contribute to survival. She’s a silly little girl who goes around the street scavenging for food or cash if she’s lucky, barely able to survive on that alone—usually throwing in more ‘lottery tickets’ to keep herself alive ever since she turned twelve. She’s only a ‘family’ of one though, so one would think the tessera would last her pretty well; it doesn’t.
Why? Deep down she really does have a motivation to live—to stop the Capitol’s underhanded method of enslaving the Districts. She just pushes the faintest thought relating to that to the very back of her mind, refusing to accept that she’s not afraid of the Capitol, but actually hates them because she doesn’t see herself as someone capable of hate. Most of the tessera she gets is painfully allotted to small, starving children in the community home she shares with. They’re probably going to die within a few months anyway, but she can’t bear to see them die of starvation itself. They at least could die from the effects of starvation… couldn’t they? Die with a semi-full belly, or as full as it’ll ever get when they’ve gotten into the community houses. That was the least she could do… right? It wasn’t like there was a rebel faction or anything going on anyway. If she accepted the fact that she really does care and wants to live, she’d wind up outright opposing the Capitol and what would that mean? Her death. No, better to lie to herself and at least help out one other person than to die and let a legion of children go off in misery.
Perhaps that’s why she’s such a dreamer—always stuck in her own little fantasy world, never admitting it except for the times she’d sit in an empty lot in the square and tell stories in hopes for some food or maybe cash. Usually it was children who went to her… she didn’t get much, but deep down she enjoyed it, hearing their excited voices and sounds of happiness. Being in the community house she knows just how bad District 12 is. Their so called ‘caretakers’ barely take care of them, usually leaving just the barest of the bare essentials for them to survive on. In a way, the community homes were like their own mini Hunger Games. In truth, she hated the caretakers and peacemakers, the people who worked for the Capitol, all of it.
She’d always been a loner and over time, she’d become an entity full of hatred… but she refused to believe it. Outright refused. Ever since her ‘sister’ had died her hatred had built and built. She alone had been the one person in her life Mira fully trusted in and truly loved. She had taught Mira how to love and make do with what little they had; she’d taught her a life that was bearable. Before her death, the gentle, innocent, vulnerable Mira peopled believed she was now had been real and existed. Not anymore. That gentleness faded, the innocence was gone, and the vulnerability stripped away from her. The gentle façade she put on was nothing more than that: a façade. But if she accepted who she really was now… her mind couldn’t handle it, not when her sister had opposed that very kind of person.
And that was what Mira lived for now. She lived on in the shadow of her sister, Phaysia. Phaysia had given her hope and taught her a lot of things—especially when it came to survival in the forests. Everything she did was in the memory of Phaysia, the charming young woman who’d won a special place in most everyone’s heart she met and always found the silver lining in every dark matter at hand. She tried to be that same ray of light in the darkness she was so familiar with, doing so stubbornly. She’s definitely got spirit and the brains to match it, but lacks the confidence.
Is it because she’s blind? No, not quite. Her confidence resides in the fact that no one’s been in her life until Phaysia showed up. Even then, she felt like she lacked the capability to do the things Phaysia did, when it was more than evident she could keep up with Phaysia despite her blindness. In reality, Phaysia wasn’t just her sister and role model, but also a person Mira loved very deeply, what first sparked her interest in females over males. And… a person who died protecting her. The people she tries to help inevitably forget her, die off, or disappear. Her constantly shifting ‘family’ ties generally means that she doesn’t receive praise or support for very long, if at all. In a world where everyone is competing for the same things, trust isn’t something that’s gained very easily let alone given out. Thus, most of the people she tries to help out in some form or another tend to distrust her, naturally.
Each little thing that goes wrong essentially affects Mira’s mental health. Someone she talks to often or helps feed who doesn’t say ‘hi’ to her might very well be the reason why she gets into another depressive mood for a week. Hearing the school kids go on about their friends and families, things she’s doesn’t have could easily set her off too. Sometimes it’ll affect her, sometimes it won’t, either way it adds up. She can easily hold a grudge against someone, or at least find everyone annoying in some form or another, but in the end she’ll find herself caring for them, coming up with explanations and reasoning out their behaviors or actions only to wind up hating herself for caring so much—it always comes back to her. Not strong enough. Not fast enough. Not smart enough. Not friendly enough. Not worth it. Worthless. Useless. Stupid. Ugly. Unneeded. It’s only a handful of the negative thoughts Mira often has of herself at any given moment. Thoughts that plague her mental health, adding onto her declining physical health. Coupled with her insomniac problems, due to a seemingly limitless amount of energy (due to her high metabolism) particularly at night, it’s almost a miracle that she’s still alive, at least in her mind. Then again, there are others worse than her, aren’t there?
Residence[/u]:[/color] District 12 | Abandoned Alleyways
Family[/u]:[/color]
- Misaki Yajyuam (Mother) | Deceased (Childbirth)
- Dante Akua (Father) | Deceased (Coal Mines)
- Phaysia Vaj (Adoptive Sister) | Deceased (Hunger Games)
- Lushin Yaj (Adoptive Brother) | Deceased (Unknown)
ç i: An Unexpected VisitThe Akua family had never really been a family to begin with. Two adults who had lived through the community house together and helped one another survive had found themselves living together under mutual agreements that without each other’s help life would be much more difficult than it already was. Misaki and Dante had never really had feelings for one another beyond that of siblings at the most. Dante worked in the mines and hunted at night, bringing most of the food. Misaki did her own hunting, but not quite as often as Dante, she herself worked more so as freelancer, doing various odd jobs within District 12 that was needed that no one else really liked to do. Dante, cool and aloof worked on his own, ‘carrying his own weight’ with the exception of Misaki. Misaki on the other hand worked to gain favor with others and have their help, as well as manipulating them for her own needs—especially when it came to those who worked for the Capitol. The two had a deep hatred for the Capitol running through their veins.
At some point though, the two eventually gave in to their body’s desires and Misaki soon became pregnant. Things began to change slightly for them. Dante began to melt, his icy layers slowly coming off one by one until it was like he’d been reborn as an entirely new man. Misaki’s heart and nature, always warm and charming, became even warmer. But just months after her pregnancy Dante was killed in a mining accident where a support beam had fallen, causing the whole tunnel to collapse. There had been few survivors. She struggled then, not with food and a place to live, but with her mind.
For her, Dante was something stable—someone who wouldn’t die before their child was born, someone who’d always be there. Day and night she worried for their unborn child and had nightmares about Dante and the future awaiting her. It came to the point where she was having hallucinations most every day. Without ever realizing it, she was killing herself from within. Her own mind was poisoning her health. Hallucinations that made everything she’d known her whole life suddenly become dark and monstrous. Her own shadow frightened her. Constantly she’d talk to herself, whispering this or that, her words rambling and incoherent. It wasn’t long before people pitied her and were given another reason to hate the Capitol.
By the time her pregnancy was coming to an end, she was already beginning to die. The people she had once worked for and helped when she was sane had all but abandoned her—the insane woman who knew neither friend nor foe, unable to tell either apart. Her beauty and charm had long since been stripped of her, all that remained that could hint that she had once been someone worth fighting for were her eyes. It was only out of sheer pity from a young teen that allowed her child to be born and saved at the very least.
A straggling teen having just come back from pillaging a baker’s shop unsuccessful, had saw her and easily recognized the strange woman his father had once said he loved as his father had often talked about her to him. Out of pity he took her to the closest community house around, asking that they at least take care of her until the child was born—despite all the clawing and screaming Misaki did and receiving a heavily bruised arm and a gash across his eye from her nails. Grudgingly they agreed, quite unaware that the woman had already gone into labor hours ago.
By the end of the day, she’d given birth. No one quite knew what to name the child until someone remembered Misaki’s last incoherent words: “Monster coming… dea—Dante blood…dust, just… mira—”. For awhile they debated over naming her ‘Dea’ or ‘Mira’, the only two sensible names they could decipher from Misaki’s broken speech. In the end they settled on Mira simply because it had been the last word Misaki uttered, if it was a word at all.
ç ii: Utter DisappointmentIn a sense, Misaki’s child had at first been someone they thought might have potential. Surely this young girl would grow up to be like her mother? But as she began to learn how to talk and walk, it became more than apparent that she couldn’t see, and she cried—cried for food, cried for someone to hold her, cried when she got hurt, nothing but cry.
It became a pain to raise her and she was often left alone if one could help it. As she passed from infant to toddler to child, she quickly learned her place. Her tears stopped coming and she remained quiet. She may have been born blind, but her mind still ran just as well as anyone else’s and she was quick to take in things. This was perhaps the only reason why she managed to survive in the community house.
Mira quickly learned that when they came to feed the children she shouldn’t try to be in front and get the good food first. No, she’d wait in the back as everyone else raced forward, fighting, and sneak off to the side, sprint forward and grab whatever her little hands could get and flee. That would be her meal, nothing more, nothing less. Sometimes she’d get something to eat, other times she didn’t. If she didn’t get anything she’d starve or go out of the house, searching for something edible.
She learned then that some people still remembered her mother and might throw her a scrap of leftovers now and again if she hung out long enough, or that while the various quotas their district had to fulfill was being collected small tidbits of food or materials might slip and fall. She’d learn the patterns the Peacekeepers took when it came to collection days and follow them silently, listening intently in the hopes that something might fall—something she might be able to eat or sell. When luck was on her side she’d zip forward as fast as she could and grab it and flee. Most times she was caught and beaten for it, but other times she managed to escape.
When it came time for her to go to school, she soon found that she need not go. The adults there took her blindness as an illness that rendered her incapable of doing anything. The Peacekeepers and Mayor didn’t find any need to keep her in school because of that very same reason. She grew up then, not knowing the subjects they taught in the schools, but knowing where it was best to go to for scraps, places where people often lost things and couldn’t get them back out again, hiding places where people couldn’t find you or wouldn’t go to. She learned from listening mostly. There was always someone talking somewhere about something. Very rarely did she actually go to school, usually only going when she was too hungry and tired to scamper about the district looking for something to survive off of or learning a new way to survive.
ç iii: The Sanctuary in the WoodsBy the time she was eight Mira had at last decided she’d go to the woods and see if she might be able to find something. She’d been afraid to at first, extremely so, but her hunger won over her fears. Tentatively, much like her father had done, she scampered through one of the openings in the gates to the woodlands. Her first time in the woods, she’d been astounded at how different it was. The woods were so alive… full of melodies she’d never heard of, and always, always there was a faint whispering of words she couldn’t understand—the calls and songs of the animals and plants and waters. They were all talking to one another and she was there listening. At first she’d been so awed that she hadn’t done much else but stand in the middle of the woods and listen, just listen.
But again her hunger won out and she ventured deeper into the woods, making too much noise. The wonderful melodies and conversations she had been listening in on quickly disappeared. Shivering, cold from the night’s freezing air and her own fears, she continued her trek unaware that faint whispers she heard in the grass was that of a wild dog pack hunting her.
Too exhausted to go on, she fell to the grassy ground, leaning against a tree, trapped there as the wild dogs had already begun to form a ring about her. They had sensed from the start that she would be an easy target, an easy meal they need not chase after or give chase to by their baying. But now, now when she was trapped, their growls and calls began. She was frozen there in fear, knowing she’d die, but as the pack descended on her a flurry of arrows came down on the pack, their harsh growls fading into yelps of pain and whimpers of death. Those that had avoided in the initial rain swore in their harsh howls and fled the scene.
Her savior had come out of the trees and dropped to the earthen ground, examining her kills, wondering why the pack had fled soon understood why. The dead and bleeding bodies of the beasts were stretched thin, their bones showing through their matted and unkempt hides. “Poor things,” she’d whisper before turning her attention to the child by the tree staring out into the loom still frozen. “Hey, are you alright?” she whispered quietly, slowly approaching her, unsure if this child was a friend or foe.
And to her utter surprise the child fell into her, clinging onto her and crying. She’d been shocked and didn’t know what to do at first, but somewhere inside of her something clicked and her arms fell about Mira, gently patting her back. “Shhh, it’s okay. You’re safe now. Shhh.” Her voice was melodic to Mira and her sobs subsided after being rocked in the young teen’s arms.
“What’s your name?” Her voice was still soft and gentle and Mira took an immediate liking to her, but in the back of her mind she was still wary of the teen. “M-Mira. Mira A-Akua.” “Mira, huh? That’s a pretty name for a pretty girl,” she smiled, ruffling Mira’s hair playfully. “I’m Phaysia. Phaysia Vaj.” It was only until she said her last name that Mira noticed the strange accent. A puzzled look flashed over her face and in the glimmering moonlight Phaysia saw it. She laughed then, a laugh that sent the mockingjays into song. “My parents are both Asian, at least that's what I can remember about them, and from the looks of it… so are you. We retained some of our customs, of course, it was in secret, but that’s why I have a little bit of an accent. Come on, you must be hungry.”
Phaysia stood up, holding out her hand to Mira. It was now or never. Mira had to make a choice, despite not knowing anything about the teen before her or what she had in store for her… Mira stood up and nodded, not aware that Phaysia didn’t know she was blind. For the first time in her life, she trusted someone. “O-Okay.” They stood in the looming darkness for awhile, each wondering when the other was going to move. “… What’s wrong? Aren’t you going to take my hand…? I was watching you earlier, you stumbled over everything. You’re going to need my help if we’re gonna get back before breakfast starts,” frowned Phaysia, wondering if she ought to just leave the girl, thinking that maybe she really was a spy for the Capitol or something. “H-Huh? I… I didn’t know. I… I can’t…” started Mira, feeling like crying again. It soon clicked in Phaysia’s head though. “You’re blind, aren’t you?! That’s why you tripped over everything… and I thought you were just too stupid to use your eyes. Uh, not that you are,” amended Phyasia quickly, noticing the faint reflection off of Mira’s face. “D-Don’t cry anymore okay? Here, just hold on tight and you’ll be getting something warm to eat in no time. Okay?” started Phaysia, holding onto Mira’s hand tightly and wiping away her tears. Mira could only manage to nod.
Sighing with relief, Phaysia bent down and pulled out various arrows and handed them to Mira. She took them without question and held on tightly. Phaysia took another glance at the five dead dogs. In the back of her mind she was willing to bet she could take in at least three or four of them if she didn’t have to hold onto Mira. In the end, she settled for two. She could always hope that the carcasses were still there tomorrow. A dog slung over her shoulder and one in her hand, she led the way out of the forest.
ç iv: Phantom FamiliesMira was soon integrated into a new family made up of teens who’d outgrown the community houses and were considered adults. The few nineteen year olds acted as parents and the other handfuls of teens were the children. All of them here knew how to hunt, and each who was old enough to participate in the Hunger Games had had their names entered multiple times for the tessera that they still needed to rely on. There had been controversy over letting Mira live with them for the sheer fact that she was blind and would be of little use to them when it came to bringing in meat to eat or sell for supplies.
Phaysia fought for her though. Phaysia and her best friend, Lushin Yaj. Grudgingly, they group agreed to take her in so long as she could pull some of her own weight. It was then that Phaysia began to teach Mira how to fight, and hunt, and so forth. Mira was a quick learner, but her strength and blindness provided to be her greatest setback. She knew all the work behind using a bow or setting up traps and how to track down an animal, which calls animals made were warning signs, which berries and roots could be eaten… but she didn’t have the strength to wield a bow, she didn’t have the eyes to see where exactly a trap should best be set up, the eyes needed to see the tracks of animals without disturbing them, the eyes to tell the differences between the poisonous berries. It would take her much time and practice to become fully acquainted with such things before she could do them without the eyes of someone else. Time was not something she had on her side. She was weak. She was useless. A burden.
But Phaysia had faith in her and the patience to teach her, Lushin too. The others doubted her ability to survive and soon left it to Phaysia and Lushin, abandoning them. True, they still lived in the same house as the others, but in no other way were they beneficial to each other anymore. But as months went by, Mira began to grow and could begin to venture into the woods by herself, going a little further each month, lasting a little longer with each trip. Her body was slowly adapting to a Hunter’s way of life, but nowhere far enough that she could actually be considered one, not even an adept.
The three of them were tempted to just live in the woods, but knew better. Others would undoubtedly come looking for them. They’d provided a decent enough of meat to sell that the others in the area would know they wouldn’t die of starvation, well Phaysia and Lushin did at any rate. No doubt the Peacekeepers would turn them in and order the Capitol to find them. Mira was growing by leaps and bounds and before long it was time for her to gain a name.
“You know, Mira, Lushin and I got our names when we could go out into the woods by ourselves and last a day alone in there. You can last a day in there now. It’s time you’re given a name.” She looked up at Phaysia and Lushin, confused. “What do you mean? I already have a name…” Lushin grinned at her, reaching out and ruffling her hair. “You have a given name, not a true name.” There was still confusion written all over her face. “See, your last name is your true name, the community houses usually know what your last name is. Your first name on the other hand, it was given to you. Your parents never got the chance to name you, did they?” “No… they didn’t…” she admitted, not bothering to add on that she didn't even have a clue about who her parents were.
Sighing, Phaysia pushed Lushin away. “You always were bad at explaining things like this. Let me explain it to her.” Laughing, he nodded and settled down on the floor cross legged as Phaysia pulled Mira into her arms. “Since your parents never named you, we’re going to name you. All the others got their first names like this too. Spree got his name from the word ‘speed’ because he’s pretty fast out of all of us. Kaller got her name cause she’s a killer, you’d know if you’ve ever seen her hunt.” “What are you and Lushin named after?” “Why don’t you take a guess? You’re a smart girl,” replied Lushin, beaming at her.
“Mmm… okay… Phaysia… Lushin…” she murmured, trying to discern something from their names. After a few minutes she took in a shaky breath. “Umm… Phantom… and… Illusion…?” asked Mira hesitantly. “You got it kiddo!” laughed the two elder teens, hugging her tightly. She was trying not to laugh, but in the end she gave way and fell back on the bed with the two still holding on tightly to her laughing alongside them. “You get to keep your name though!~” sung Phaysia. “Huh? But why?” “You’re like a phantom, an illusion, a mirage! You’re quiet enough as it is here, so when you go out hunting it’s like you’re not even there!” replied Lushin, petting her on the head affectionately. “S-So you two…” “Yeeep,” they answered unanimously. Perhaps it hadn't been fair of them to praise Mira so much and give her a false hope and confidence in herself, thinking that she really was as good as they were, but Phaysia and Lushin had saw no harm in it.
ç v: The Hunger Games… for the Blind?[/color] Even if she didn’t know just how bad it could get, from what Phaysia and Lushin had told her, she wouldn’t last an hour in the games. Not me. Anyone but me. Please. And from the rotating orbs came out her name. Numbly, she was shoved forward on stage. I c-can’t… be… It’s not possible! It’s my first time…[/color] She was in complete shock over having been chosen. “I volunteer to take her place!” Her head snapped up at that one call through the lone, low mumbling crowd, as did everyone else, trying to pinpoint who had called out.Within the next year the Mira was twelve and eligible for the Hunger Games. This would be Phaysia and Lushin’s last year in the games—each of them with well over their fair share of votes. The other Hunger Games they’d been in she had never really understood what was going on, but this year was different. She knew exactly what was going on because for once someone had finally decided it was high time for a blind girl who never could see what the hell was on the screens be told what exactly the Hunger Games were.
She had detested the games just like anyone else, but seeing as there was little they could do against it, she stood there among the other possible tributes, waiting. Anyone but me. Please. Not me. Not me.
Slowly, very slowly, the crowd parted as they realized who had volunteered. “I volunteer to take her place,” said Phaysia, louder and clearer than before. Pha…Phaysia…?[/color] For a moment she stood there a moment longer in shock, pushed off the stage into the crowd’s arms before she found her voice. ”No! You can’t do that! I—“ she protested, but someone had placed their hand over her mouth. ”MMMMmmmmM!” ”Shh. She’s already made up her mind. You know Phaysia. Once she makes up her mind, you can’t convince her to change her mind, no matter what. Let her go.” Mira only continued to struggle. She can’t do this. She can’t… Why… Why would she do this?! She doesn’t deserve this.
Mira easily blacked out of the games. All she could do was keep her eyes on Phaysia, unaware that for the first time since Phaysia had found her… she was crying. Hot, burning tears trailed their way down her cheeks un-wiped as the rest of the events went on. She can’t… The same guilty thoughts plagued her mind over and over as she stood there silent and numb while the procession went on until she was pulled away by the crowd and her feet found a familiar track, sending her back home to Lushin and Phaysia… only she didn’t go inside.
Mira stopped in front of the door, still numb and empty. Why would she do this for me? Why? She… she doesn’t deserve to die like this. Why? She knows the Games are nothing more than legalized murder, so why agree to participate in it? Her hand on the door, about to open it, she felt the tears on her face and furiously shook her head aside, her hand quickly falling to her side as she turned away and took the familiar route to the woods.
I should say goodbye to her… I shouldn’t be out here alone like this… Her thoughts were completely mixed up and she didn’t know what to do. A part of her was angry, not at Phaysia, but at herself. I’m not strong enough. I’m never going to be strong enough![/color] Angrily, she let her fingers curl up into a fist and beat the deadened ground. Damn it Phaysia! Why'd you take my place?! I should’ve fought… If I’d fought they wouldn’t have… you wouldn’t be going… Clamping her teeth together, refusing to cry out loud, her curled fingers continued to beat the earth as if it could beat away her troubles and the past.
You shouldn't have to do this! You shouldn't... you're not being fair... Lushin's not being fair... you're not fair at all... not to... to your baby... And with that final thought she drifted off into an uncomfortable sleep, too weary from the day's events and mental fatigue.[/font][/blockquote][/blockquote]
ç vi: The Capitol, Lushin, or Mira?[/i][/color][/font][/blockquote]Having a mental breakdown by now, Mira shook her head. "No... I hate the Capitol. If it weren't for them... if it weren't for them Phaysia... Phaysia... she... she didn't change did she? What they sad about her.. it's not... it's not true, right? P-Phaysia..." She didn't know what to believe anymore. And she didn't know who to blame anymore either. Lushin stepped towards her but she backed away. "D-Don't touch me..." Phaysia's death and the events involving her death were too much for her to handle. How other people dealt with the Tribute's deaths she didn't know. "H-How... How can you just stand there... Phaysia... Phaysia died," she whispered, her words coming out in between ragged breaths.The Hunger Games seemed to flee by for Mira. She could never hear enough about Phaysia. Every single day she'd spend her time in the squares, listening to the screens and the people. She hadn't said her goodbye to Phaysia... and she hadn't seen Lushin yet either. Some part of her felt as if she were responsible for Phaysia's participation in the Games. Other parts of her blamed Lushin or the Capitol. Sometimes she blamed her ancestors for instigating the Rebellion. But in the end... she blamed herself.
For awhile, she remained hopeful. So far, Phaysia was doing a pretty good job, at least from what she could hear and based on the bets going around. With that bit of hope and knowledge she took to hunting again, resuming some bit of normalcy. She worked hard, honing her skills as much as she could by herself (which really didn't amount to much more than a better understanding of how to use a sling), trying to make some money to hopefully be able to contribute something to her cause alongside of the manner other District 12 citizens.
From what she could tell, most of the people wouldn't mind giving up a small portion of their pay to a savings in case Phaysia might need something and they could sponsor her something of use. Most of them knew about Phaysia's volunteering to replace her, but that wasn't the main reason why they were lulled into helping her. Phaysia really was rather kind-hearted, and had helped out handfuls of the people there.
What Mira didn't know was that Phaysia was already in a dire state with a broken arm, her left thankfully, in the final five. No one had the heart to tell Mira that the woman who had taken her spot and was like a sister and mother to her was probably going to die now, considering the other Tributes were generally still in shape, as far as the Hunger Games went at any rate. And, seeing as Mira sticked to the section of the square that led into her area sub-district within District 12, most of the people that hung out to watch the Hunger Games in public tried to appease the young girl with soft murmurs of Phaysia's success and accomplishments only to go home later or talk when she wasn't there of Phaysia's likely doom, how violent and cruel Phaysia had become, how she'd changed completely.
At the time, it was more than evident that Mira was distraught at Phaysia's participation. Her face gave her away almost immediately, what with the tear stains and reddened eyes, her gaunt form, and the way she smiled when she heard Phaysia was still alive and going strong, that Phaysia was still her kind-hearted self despite the severity of the Games.
Mira had recently returned from the black markets and went to the square again to hear how things had gone. Seeing as the male District 12 Tribute had died early on and Phaysia had been all that was left to them, a crowd had gathered when Phaysia got involved in a combat with the leading contender. She was already dead by the time Mira arrived and everyone was abuzz with the ferocity of the battle from both contestants that those who had protected Mira earlier through the Games hadn't noticed her slipping into the square.
"That's... not... true..." whispered Mira as their words sunk in. A complete monster! She practically tore that guy's arm off. If she had survived I bet his body would be mutilated before they got the body taken away. She already cut him up pretty badly. She's so different. At least she died fighting. It was a complete surprise to me though when that guy cut up her stomach. Yeah, who knew she was pregnant? Total shock! You think the Gamemakers did that on purpose or something? You know how the Capitol is with all their technology, who knows?
Her whole body quivered with the news. "Phaysia... Phaysia's not... she wouldn't..." Heart beating wildly, adrenaline pumping through her veins, she would've done something highly destructive, well as much as she could at any rate, if someone hadn't stopped her—Lushin. "Let go of me!" screamed Mira as Lushin dragged her away into a mostly empty alley. His grip on her was steady and strong though and she couldn't get away. "It's your fault she died! You knew the whole time! You should've just let me go! It's all your fault!"
Those words, harsh and cruel as they were, were the magic words. Lushin's grip on her immediately slackened. "If you had let me protest I would've gone instead! Phaysia wouldn't have been killed!" Under different circumstances Lushin might have reasoned with her. Everyday she'd been in the square or out hunting he had been there, watching her. He'd been worried about her, so, so worried about her. When she didn't come home from the initial picking of the year's Tributes he had gone out to look for her all night, even if Phaysia had told him it was alright, that it was just how Mira was and that she'd come back on her own.
He wanted desperately to tell her Phaysia's last words to him—to her. But he couldn't. Perhaps he ought to, but he didn't. It might be among the biggest regret in his life. "You're right..." he agreed quietly, shutting up Mira. It was for her own sake, and maybe if she weren't so hysterical about Phaysia and her unborn child's death, she would've noticed Lushin's change in mannerism. Lushin, the happy-go-lucky guy who seemed more like a five year old stuck in an adult's body was acting his age for once.
"It is my fault. I should've let you protest. I knew she was pregnant with our child but I didn't stop her. I should have. It's my fault she's dead." The words easily slipped out of his mouth before he could properly think them through. He had wanted to say something else... but in the end his mind had jumped ahead and replaced it with something else. "I wish I could go back and undo the past."
She stood there shaking from the adrenaline anxious to get out of her body, but stuck festering inside of her as she stood rooted to her spot. "Liar! You're just as gentle as Phaysia is! You'd have me saved over her again if you could. You know it! Don't lie to me! Everyone lies to me! I hate it! I hate you! I hate the Capitol!" she yelled, while tears streamed down her face. W-Why can't I stop... c-crying...
"Really now, Mira? You hate me?" Nervously, he glanced around the area but saw no signs of potential threats or spies. He needed to calm Mira down and fast, before they accused her of treason and Phaysia's death would be for nothing."Lushin... when Mira gets back, tell her I volunteered to take her place because I love her. I've noticed it... she loves me," murmured Phaysia quietly, looking away from his crystalline blue eyes. "What do you mean? Of course she loves you, silly. She's just—" he replied, wrapping his arms about her waist and kissing her on the cheek, growing concerned over her sudden change in tone and attitude. "I mean that I've noticed she's developed feelings for me much deeper... feelings like the ones you and I share. I've noticed them for quite some time now, I just haven't confronted her with it. To be honest, I always thought it was just a little crush that would fade out in due time. I didn't think she'd have one this long. And..." Her explanation came out slowly, as if she were still thinking about how to word her thoughts. "Well... that's new. Something to tease her with, that's for sure, but what else is there? ... ... ... You don't like her that way too do you...? I mean, I'd be totally okay with it, but you know, she's still a kid and you're practically an adult." For a moment, Lushin considered if there was a bond between Phaysia and Mira he hadn't been aware of, but as far as he could recall there wasn't.
"No, no, of course not," she replied, leaning up on her toes and kissing him lightly. "Not at all. I just... I’m worried about her. That’s all… She must hate me. She knew about us… I could see it all over her face when I was up there. Lushin, you have to talk to her. Explain everything…
Holding onto her tighter, he pressed her closer to him, smoothing her hair. “Shh. It’s alright. I’ll explain. I will. She just doesn’t understand that we already consider her our daughter. That’s all. Shh. Don’t you worry about Mira or me. Concentrate on the games and come back to us.”
"Mira... I miss her too you know. You're not the only one who's been suffering. And Phaysia wasn't the only one who loved you, you know. I love you too."
His words both hurt and comforted her. I ran... I ran from Phaysia when she was supposed to say her goodbyes. I ran away from Lushin when he was hurt too. I... That's all I ever do. Run.[/color] And somewhere inside of her, her conscious told her to run. Run. Just keep running. And she did. She fled from the alley, stumbling and tripping over the debris on the ground and her own feet, but she ran. "Mira! Wait! MIRA!" But she never did hear him. Run. Run away and the pain will go. Run. Seek death. You're already in darkness. Death will follow. Run.[/font][/blockquote][/blockquote]
ç vii: Alone & In Denial[/font][/justify]Ever since she ran from Lushin and slipped into an empty alleyway in another district within District 12, she lived on her own. Where she had once hunted in the outskirts of the woods and been somewhat successful now and then, she no longer ventured. For the first few months after Phaysia's death she reverted back to the lifestyle she had lived as a beggar of sorts, half thinking about going back to the community homes. Denying Phaysia's death, or rather how she died, Mira came to convince herself that Phaysia died protecting another Tribute who'd been defenseless, that Phaysia had never been carrying a child in her womb, and that she didn't know who Lushin was.
About a year and half later, pigments of the past slowly began to show up again. Angry at herself yet again, she tried to make amends for her memories by trying to provide for the children she met—resulting in her taking back up hunting in the forests (poorly at that), but only it's fringes.
She didn't remember everything, and didn't quite understand why she felt so attached to children—feeling as if she owed them, but she helped them anyway. Her reasoning had been simple: Phaysia had been kind-hearted and had helped out children, she ought to too. Because of this she eventually found herself working deeper into the woods by her fifteenth year and ran into old friends of Lushin.
It had been relatively easy for them to figure out who Mira was and just by mentioning Lushin's name they brought down the walls she had so carefully built up come down in a matter of seconds. Remembering what she had strove so hard to forget and twist into something different sent her into a depression, and not just because Lushin had died of an unknown cause (he'd actually become an Avox and deemed dead by most anyone who knew him, they merely didn't have the heart to tell her the truth broken as she already was), as well as denial, only this time a denial of her own feelings for Phaysia and Lushin and the world around her.
She continued on with her support of the children—if only because it gave her something to do and a reason worth living, even if she went without more often than naught. That and it provided a nice distraction from the many suicidal thoughts running through in the back of her mind. She was, what one could say, a living zombie seeing as she really didn't know who she was anymore, figuratively speaking, or what to do with her life.
Yet, deep down inside of her where her denial was buried and hidden from her by her own walls, an ever growing hatred for the Capitol grew.
Face Claim: Jessica Jung
odair[/color]