Skylar Graham -- District 5

Name: Skylar Grant Graham
Age: 15
Gender: Male
District/Area: District 5
Appearance:

Skylar was blessed with a functioning body, and not much else. Not to say he was ugly, but nothing was properly peculiar about him. He was of above average height, sure. A good 6'2". Strong as well, with broad shoulders and lean legs. Usually he had on a t-shirt and some jeans. Nothing eye-catching about the tan teenager.

Skylar's face, however, did get some looks. He had tough, though somewhat narrow chin, which was covered in stubble. His deep brown eyes held a steady, unwavering gaze. Straight and sleek black hair fell to just above his neck.

But, for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. While his looks may not have been an action, Skylar still paid for it in the form of physical ability. Just behind his left knee was a gash mark that had scarred over. Because of the older injury he had a noticeable limp and a slower run.

Personality:

Honestly, Skylar was a fatalist. Ever since he was ten years old he couldn't shake the feeling that one reaping day, his name would be drawn. He made it three years, but he still expects that, one day, he would enter the Hunger Games.

Not that he wanted to, however. Far from it. He hated the idea of it, as most in Panem silently did. He just couldn't shake the feeling that he'd be picked. So strong was this feeling, and so gripped was he by it, that he had no thoughts past the age of eighteen. No idea for occupation or future.

Since that feeling took him he wasn't much of a cheery child. Though he'd never admit what he felt, it did affect him. He was quiet almost all the time, thinking on, and waiting for, 'the day.' He tried very hard to remove unnecessary attachments from his home. Obviously, he'd never detach from his family or friends. Nor did he want to. Everything but the people in his life was emotional baggage to him. While he knew he couldn't physically train for the Games, he did emotionally. He didn't want to kill, and his policy would be self-defense. But, he wanted to make sure, if he had to, he wouldn't falter.

Skylar liked to think of himself as a nice guy, and he was. He helped those who needed it badly when he could. However, he wouldn't volunteer. Not unless a friend of his was chosen would he step up. Despite the motto, he thought the odds certainly wouldn't be in his favor; and if he didn't have to go die needlessly, he didn't want to. Although he did think a lot, that wasn't the main reason he stayed quiet. He wasn't very good at expressing himself or his emotions; and he didn't articulate words well. Which often meant the things he wanted to say in his head didn't come out right in speech.

History:

Skylar Grant Graham was born on November 21st, and lived a normal child's life. He played, he laughed, he was a part of the family. He was young though, and not bright. He didn't understand how, sometimes, he would catch his parents look at Skylar with such sadness and disappointment. He didn't understand. Not even year after year of the Hunger Games broadcast, did he understand, until the age of ten.

That Hunger Games, when he was watching, wanting to look away, it hit him. All the times he'd seen the looks his parents gave; all the previous games, when his parents wouldn't even let him out of their sight. It never struck him, despite the very reality of it, that one day, he might be on that screen; and that was what his parents were really scared of.

From then on he prepared himself. Once in awhile he'd be caught swinging around a stick in the streets. He was a kid, so it just looked like harmless play. He also prepared himself another way. He thought very long and very hard on what he'd do if he were ever in that arena. If he ever had to take a life. He had to stop his 'physical practice' at the age of twelve, when it would look suspicious. He never stopped thinking, though, and he excelled at school, and took a liking to history. Even at the age of fifteen, he's still thinking. Thinking. About the arena, about having to kill, about surviving, and about the people in his life; and how he matters to them. One could often find him sitting quietly, arm on knee, hand supporting head, starting at something, as if it held all the answers.

Codeword: <img src="http://i41.tinypic.com/16h2ibt.png">
Comments/Other:

I dunno if he'd ever get picked. I think I would laugh a little if he weren't.