Egypt D'Vici-D7

Normal. Average. No stunner. Not at all remarkable in any way. Maybe a bit less than average, even. I don't really pay close attention to how I look. I never understood the point of pouring over your physical appearance. If you're ugly you're ugly. If you're pretty, you're pretty and there's nothing you can do about it.

Like I said, I am no hot chic who runs around on the beach in a bikini. I don't even run around on the beach. I've got brownish-blond hair that stops between my shoulder blades. It's neither straight nor curly. Not even wavy. It's just sort of there. I don't like leaving it down; it gets in my face and bothers me all the time. Besides, if I tie it back I look neater anyway. I don't exactly take extraordinary care of my hair. I spend my free time on more meaningful things that I actually enjoy. The result is that I have split ends and my hair isn't flowy and soft like stupid novels like to describe the beautiful heroine's hair. Not much more to say, really, about my hair. Why are you so interested anyway?

I have brown eyes. Very boring brown eyes. Hmm, how can I make this sound more exciting? How about this: Gorgeous big chocolate brown eyes that made you tingle inside every time they looked at you. Yeah... no. My eyes are not exactly huge. There slightly tilted, and they're brown. Deep brown. Unremarkable brown.

I'm 5'4". About average height. I told you already, I'm an average person. I'm not exactly slim: I mean I don't purposely go on diets. I really don't see the purpose of doing that either. It's just like taking extra refined care of one's hair. Pointless. But I'm not overweight. I'm healthy. I make sure of that. Getting sick could mean a big disaster, so I make sure I'm always healthy.

I have high cheekbones and a rounded chin. That's probably the feature about me I like best. My face has a nice structure. Sort of soft and refined looking. But look what I'm doing now. Blabbing about looks.

Again: Pretty average. I'm nothing spectacular. I'm a tad cynical. Kind. A small temper. Like any average person.

On the whole I'm not easily angered. I can take what people dish out, swallow it hole and not respond. In some ways that might be a fault because when I do that, I aggravate the person who's insulting me. But I can be ticked off. If someone really bugs me, well then the knot comes undone and I fly into a smaller version of Hell. Afterward I normally regret it, but at the moment I think myself fully justified.

I don't like watching pain and I don't take pleasure in seeing people upset. I try and help people whenever I can. I've seen some of the people in the hunger games. Disgusting. I don't see how anyone would want to be like that. Those figures I see on the screen... They of all people are probably the ones I would be most likely to hurt, only because they have hundreds of other people in many different ways.

I'm a little cynical. I don't think my life is ever going to change, I think that the world is going to continually get worse and worse. I'm not depressed though, and I don't get moody. I just accept that as a fact of daily life and live with it rather cheerfully. In that way I'm optimistic. So I'm optimistic and cynical at the same time.

I'm not the most social person. I'm a tad shy, but if someone approaches me I can be friendly enough. But no one really approaches each other anymore. Maybe that's why I'm single at nineteen. Not that I mind. I never saw the necessity of getting a partner. When I was a stupid self pitying adolescent I had some brief urges to attempt to get a boyfriend, but those didn't last long. Honestly, I think worrying about getting a spouse would really just make ones life more miserable.

Like I said: completely average. I don't have anything epic about my past. No murders, not even any deaths.

I have a sister, Syria. She's younger than me: she's sixteen. She's exactly what I was not at sixteen. Bratty, thinks she knows everything. She goes around flaunting herself everywhere. She's prettier than me, and maybe that's why she acts so stupid in public as if the world revolves around her. Whatever.

My mom was always aching over having a son who could farm for them in the back or something like that. Well her wish was finally fulfilled when I turned eighteen. I don't know how she pulled it off, but my mom got through one last childbirth and had a boy. His name is Adrian. What can I say about him. He's a little kid. I don't enjoy his company; I'm not that crazy about little kids.

We're not overly poor, but we do have to struggle a little to survive. I certainly think it would be easier if Syria would put less time into curling her hair and applying lipstick and put more time into working and cleaning, but we get along. Dad and I work and Syria occasionally does odd-jobs around the district. Mom stays home, cleans the house and takes care of Adrian.

Everyone else in my family is dead by now. There's not much to my history. We have not time for hobbies, I have no connections with the hunger games. Average. Like I said.