Re: emaria daniels}capitol}fin

984ECA;; actions
EFEC52;; speech
D36DB7;; other speech

appearance;;

Usually adorned in some sort of hat, Emaria's head has always had an oval-shaped head, suggesting a mature physical appearance. Sharp cheek bones and a lanky figure causes some to mistake her for a young woman, instead of the teenager she truly is. Though some enjoy pretending to be young, Emaria has yet to pick up this trait, and tries to act the age people imagines her to be around those of important status, and when it seems it will grant her a favor.

Born with a shade of blonde nicknamed, "dirty," (as in dirty blonde), Emaria jumped at the chance to change the color of her hair. Not yet willing to completely step outside of the box, she stuck with blonde, just giving it a lighter tone. Going for the look in the television commercials and the advertisements in the papers, where the model's hair seems to glow when she stands still, shimmers when she moves. Oh, how she yearned for her head to resemble that. Asking several different hairdressers, she was directed to a brand of hair dye simply called, "Shine." The result was split ends and hair even more dull than when she first started. Disgusted in herself, she payed extra to add crimson highlights, something considered trendy in the Capitol.

i woke up with a strange tattoo
dont know how i got it, not a dollar in my pocket
and it kinda looks just like you
mixed with zach gilifianakis
la la la, whatever
la la la, doesnt matter
la la la, oh well
la la la
were goin at it tonight, tonight
theres a party on the rooftop top of the world
tonight tonight and were dancin on the edge of the hollywood sign
i dont know if ill make it, but watch how good ill fake it
its all right, all right, tonight, tonight

There's a saying in some of the districts, "The eyes are the windows to the soul." Emaria wouldn't know. She thinks it's silly to assume such a thing, especially considering some people don't necessarily like the color of their eyes. Emaria, personally, thinks life would be so much more interesting if your eye color would change at a constant rate. Maybe blue one day, green the next? But she knows a technology of that sort would not come along for years, so she purchased several different contact lenses instead. She likes to wear them according to her mood. Blue when bubbly, green when at ease, brown when something's troubling her, gold when careless (she seems to wear gold a lot more often than the others). She even found a pair that seems to have all of the colors mixed into one, which she wears when she can't quite put a finger on how she feels. Something that doesn't happen very often.

Besides the mole on her neck, and a long scar on her stomach from a biking accident, the rest of her body remains untouched, both by blemish and Capitol inventions. In fact, her parents had strictly forbade her from having anything done (plastic surgery or any body remodeling). When Emaria had thrown a fit, they relented on having her body dyed a light tan, and having their own personal doctor stencil in a swirl of designs onto her flesh, starting from the crown of her head and ending at the tip of her toes. They stretch and curve around her neck like a necklace, her wrists like bracelets. They act like a flame, tilting around her torso, a thin curl acting as a whisp of smoke. The stencils tell a story on her body, a new chapter everywhere.

personality;;

There are several words that are used to describe Emaria, and not one of them is nice or generous. Even some of the girl's closest, "friends," would tell you she's a manipulative bitch who enjoys feeding off other people's misery, including those closest to her. Especially her girlfriend. Though never openly cruel to the girl, she told her she had liked her, accepted the offer of a relationship, when she admitted to herself that there was nothing between the two souls. Probably never would be. To her, it's the meanest thing she could have ever done, and though she feels guilty about it every time she sees the girl's face, every time they share a kiss, she has never summoned up the courage to break the chains that have been holding her down.

Like nearly all Capitolites, Emaria is a stuck up brat, who demands everything she wants, and throws a fit when she can't have it. Unlike most, she looks back at what she does, and shoes some remorse toward the districts with less fortune than she. For, while food may come in bundles at home, they're starving. But she doesn't worry over it too much. Not when there are parties to plan, people to meet, and girls and boys to fu- ... talk nice with.

Behind all the bitterness and hate, Emaria really does have a heart. It just takes someone really special, someone really close to the girl (which almost no one is) to uncover all the muck. Her, "special," girl, April* has done this on a few occasions, but even then it's caked in a layer of grime. For when this occurs, they talk of their feelings toward each other. Emaria is forced to lie to her again, but the real heart is how she feels after she's done so. Guilty. Dirty. Ashamed. But she can't help but feel bored with the relationship. There's almost no excitement with the artistic girl. There's sappy romance. But no... sex? Is that what Emaria really wants from the relationship?

Though she'd never admit it to herself, Emaria's become somewhat of a slut. Though she suspects April knows, the teenager tries to cover up her sleeping around as well as she can. But there are often times when she goes to visit her girl with the scent of another woman or man on her skin, strong enough to be obvious when they share a greeting kiss. Emaria's often wondered how April would feel if she realized what was going on right under her nose, but Emaria finds this to be a painful subject, even if only thinking about it. The girl is a good friend to her. But is she also something else?

history;;

May the 22nd was a particularly warm day for spring. The temperature soared well above the seventies, maybe even coasting the triple digits. Emaria's parents tell her they don't remember, that they were too focused on something far more important that temperatures. The birthing of Emaria Marie Daniels.

A particularly healthy baby, Emaria was taken home shortly after born, her mother following a day later, in bad need of a check-up. Her father took care of her, though. Making sure the crib was sturdy enough for her to sleep in. Making sure she had all of the toys she wanted. Making she was fed, burped, and changed when needed. Being a father.

But everything changed when she came home.

Far too young to see what was going on in her household, Emaria could only watch as her father was pushed around and abused by his wife, holding almost fifty pounds to the thin, scrawny man she had married. He was powerless against a woman with her power, her strength. Not to mention the fact that she was manager of a big-time organization, one that could, "Boost even the greatest and latest technology of the Capitol!" He was sure if she went to the office sporting a bruise or injury of any sort, her employees would ask questions, and he was positive she would point her meaty finger at him.

Emaria grew to hate her mother. She began to wonder if it was because she was just like the woman.

Emaria began to take traits from her mother, and fueling them into something worse. She became a monster. From her small bed (recently upgraded from the metal crib she had seen as a prison), she could hear her parents arguing, mainly over her. Her father wanted complete and total custody of his baby girl, his mother wanted to kill him. It was only years later that Emaria wondered if they were still married, or if the woman she was forced to call, "Mom," bullied the man into staying with her, to provide for her growing appetite for power.

He left them.

Not yet understanding that it might have been a life-or-death situation, Emaria began to resent her father, too. Her only friend seemed to be her diary, which she poured her deepest secrets and fears into. She never considered that her mother would find it. Would react in a way Emaria described as her worst fear.

The bruise lasted for weeks.

By the time the mark had faded, Emaria's father had returned, begging her mother to take him back, which she did, of course. They acted happy in front of their little girl, but through closed doors and long hallways, Emaria could still hear the beatings, the insults. It wouldn't be the first time that she wondered why he stayed with such a witch, and it took her a while for her to realize he did it for her. Without her maybe-husband around, her mother would resort to unleashing her anger out on Emaria.

Emaria grew, and met a new crowd in highschool. People to replace the snobby do-gooders she used to talk with. It was time for a change.

Through the ten kids, Emaria met April. From the get-go, Emaria could tell the girl was smitten. They eventually grew closer, and Emaria realized she might not be completely straight. But she knew she wasn't completely lesbian either. Bisexual? It seemed a good in-the-middle status. It wasn't until things between the two began to heat up that Emaria realized she might not completely feel the same way April did, or at least not in the heart. Her body yearned to be with the girl, but only in a way it wanted to be with almost every other attractive person she conversed with.

Was it just a phase?

Purchasing several peices of machinery, Emaria began a business in her basement. She only opened shop when her mother was away, either at work or on some sort of business trip. Her father didn't seem to care what his little girl did. She wondered if he even loved her anymore.

Moonshine. Word spread like wild fire. Alchohol was a-sellin' and it was cheap. The stuff tasted terrible, but it got you drunk, and it got you drunk fast. Emaria refused to drink it in the house, afraid of getting caught by her mother, and receiving a beating that even her father couldn't stop. But she found herself sneaking the stuff out by the gallon, becoming the official booze-supplier of the group of twelve. The parties became even wilder, behind-the-scenes footage becoming even hotter, and all of them doing things they would eventually regret.

Emaria more than any of them.


odair