Lysander Harvey {district 2}

So can you understand?
Why I want a daughter while I'm still young
I wanna hold her hand
And show her some beauty
Before this damage is done
But if it's too much to ask,
Then send me a son



Lysander Roman Harvey
District 2
41
male

{History}

Seventeen years old — even in the brutal, fast-paced world of Panem — is much too young to get married. Firm-jawed but quiet Lys Harvey didn't see any other option, however, because he'd gone gotten the girl he was seeing pregnant — didn't even consider her his girlfriend, either, that's how different they were. Elisabeth (then Liz, later Lizabeth, for the sake of clarity between the two) was the one that had told him — not asked him — that they had to be married. And it set the tone for his life ever since. She was forceful, outspoken, and passionate, an even match to his mild-mannered, reserved, submissive temperament. It seemed as if they were well-suited to each other in that regard, at least — but nobody warned the pair that such a dynamic was dangerous at best, thin ice with a hundred thousand ways to fall through.

They didn't, though, not for awhile — Lysander was the son of a stone miner, one who, as was often the case in District Two, always dreamed as a victor (or even a tribute) for a son but got a shy, gentle boy who would later make his career caring for others, as opposed to killing them. But he was never sorry to be a disappointment when he didn't agree with what was expected of him. It was this in particular that infuriated his wife, this personality trait of his that kept him from being squashed like an ant under her heel. He almost always agreed, but when he didn't, Lysander simply did what he wanted instead, never making a fuss about it. He never saw fit to.

Eighteen years old when his son was born, Lysander made an unusual choice of job for someone typically so reserved — he became a caregiver, of sorts, tending to the general needs elderly and the more unstable, wealthier clients — victors often among them — that needed or desired assistance, company, or the like. It didn't pay particularly well, but it offered some money and he enjoyed the work, despite how ill-suited he seemed to be to its highly personal nature. His wife had begun devoting all of her time to bigger and better things, starting on the path to becoming a Capitol-rate doctor. This left Lysander to be the temporary breadwinner, housewife, and babysitter all in one, meaning that their son often came along to his work. It wasn't bad — for the most part, people did not mind seeing baby Jay.

It wasn't that his wife didn't love their son; she did, whenever she had the free time — but this was so seldom that Lysander got the most say in raising their child. He'd decided not to have Jay trained for the Hunger Games — a tribute for a child was the last thing that he wanted — and while ex-Career Lizabeth disagreed, there was little that she could say, as she was not around often enough to put up much of a fight. When she was around, however, Lizabeth loved their little boy, in a way that surprised Lysander — it wasn't as though she was competing with him; she genuinely seemed to care deeply about their son, not resenting the fact that he'd forced his two drastically different parents to start a family largely against their wishes — after all, that wasn't Jay's fault.

With her career track being what it was, Lysander's wife took it extraordinarily hard — worse, even, than the parent who had spent more time raising him — when Jay died. To her, Lysander suspected, their son's death was a failure that she should have prevented but couldn't undo, even though there was little to be done about undetected congenital heart defects. Lys had never seen his wife cry before their son died. She began to pick fights over anything or nothing, treading all over Lysander just to remind herself that she could.

Several months after the death of little Jay, Lysander began finding himself wondering if his obligation to remained married to Lizabeth had been filled. After all, their son was the only reason why the young couple was a couple at all, so what reason did Lysander have for sticking around anymore? Cowardice more than anything else. He didn't want to bring up the request to separate until he absolutely had no other choice. So he waited. Things carried on in their fragile manner for another two months. Lysander wrote a letter explaining his feelings about their situation in the meantime, and eventually worked up the courage to hand it to his wife.

The most frightening thing at that point for Lysander was the quiet, calm disappointment on Lizabeth's face when she read his note. He'd expected screeching anger, had hoped for solemn agreement. The stoicism he got disturbed him. He packed two bags and left without a word, expecting and hoping to be able to start his life over; after all, he had only just turned twenty. Perhaps he'd be able to marry someone whom he truly loved, to forge a new family out of love and compassion rather than out of necessity and social propriety.

Alas, this could not be the case for poor Lysander. Two weeks later, his life was cast once again into the same vortex that he'd been spiraling down since he'd been essentially bullied into marrying Lisabeth, into the maelstrom of torment that he had been so certain he'd escaped. Two weeks later, the woman he'd left showed up at his new door, not ten minutes after he'd returned from work one evening, announcing that she was once again pregnant. She presented him with two options: he would either have to take the baby after it was born and raise it on his own, or get back together with her — after all, they hadn't officially separated. Used to not truly having options when it came to dealing with his wife, Lysander Harvey made his decision without thinking it over adequately.

For the past twenty years, Lysander has regretted his decision to not raise their baby girl on his own. It was clear from the day their daughter was born — two months prematurely — that Lisabeth would be taking a more active role in parenting than she had with their late son, naming her after her father, Janus Nascio Valerius, without even consulting Lysander. She constantly fought with him over even the smallest details; even for disagreements that he'd won when they were discussing Jay, Lysander lost this time. He did love their daughter, despite resenting her mother, but Lizabeth made it harder and harder for him to involve himself in Nash's upbringing.

As much as he tried to shield her from Lizabeth's foul temper and demands of perfection, Lysander failed time and time again, until he reached the point of absolute complacency, simply because it was easier. Not fighting with his wife was easier for him, especially since he was doomed to lose either way. So he worked, he came home, he made smalltalk, he slept, completely detached from his family and from life itself. This was Lysander's failing as a parent: he wasn't there for his daughter as she fought with her mother about the Career training he hadn't even wanted for her, as she entered her teens, fighting with her mother over the so-called help that Lisabeth forced her to get for the voices in her head, fighting, fighting, fighting, until one day, after a period of fleeing their household and returning, Nash had had enough and did what Lysander Harvey never had the guts to do: she left for good.

Though he despised Lisabeth's decision to act as though their daughter had died, rather than run away from home, Lysander was not about to start voicing his dissent. She didn't talk about their daughter; he didn't talk about much of anything at all. It was miserable, pretending that they were happy, and Lys began abusing painkillers while he spent the next two years once again working up the courage to leave as he'd done once before, as his daughter had bravely done before him. But this time he'd only gotten to draft the letter, one much longer and more agonized than the version that predated it by nearly two decades. Before he could deliver it to his wife and leave her, for good this time, Lysander was interrupted by the reaping for the 56th Hunger Games. The tribute for District Two? None other than Nash Harvey.

He wasn't going to let that stop him, however; Lysander left the woman that had dictated his every move before their daughter — his daughter — was even sent into the Arena. He got a small residence, packed, and left before he even gave his second letter to Lisabeth. He didn't stick around to watch how seeing their purportedly dead daughter in the Arena — falling in love with another girl, no less — on top of his leaving would absolutely destroy Lisabeth, but he'd heard a number of unpleasant rumors. While he wasn't sure which were true, he did know that he was the only one interviewed when Nash made the top eight.

After she died — after he lost his daughter for the second time — Lysander was left entirely alone in District Two. His family was dead or distant, and he'd never made many friends while married to Lisabeth. For awhile, he was uncertain of what to do with his life, but in desperate need of change, he began working as a stone miner — the absolute lowest form of work, the most simple yet draining hard labor job that was available in his district. Honest work, like his father had done. It was the sort of work that Lisabeth would've despised; he became the sort of worker that she would've refused to associate with. It was perfect.

{Appearance}

The first thing that anyone notices about Lys Harvey is his height. At six feet, six inches tall, broad-shouldered, broad-faced Lysander is certainly an imposing figure. When he'd hit his growth spurt, the people who didn't really know him started saying what a shame it was that he hadn't been trained as a Career — after all, he'd certainly have a size advantage over the rest of the playing field. Of course, these people hadn't accounted for his almost oafish lack of coordination, his clumsily large feet, and his posture, which is almost hunched, as though he's always trying to duck under a doorframe built by someone who didn't consider the 99th percentile of height.

Beyond that, Lysander is largely unremarkable. Most people find his longer hair to be somewhat unusual, but aside from length, it too is quite average: straight, mousey brown. This hangs off to either side of his head, looking somewhat misplaced. It is fairly well kept, if occasionally messy, but does absolutely nothing to cover his forehead, which, like much of his face, is quite broad. This vast expanse of forehead makes his eyebrows look like they're located too far down on his head, squished on top of his eyes as if hastily placed by someone who ran out of room.

Just below his wide-set eyebrows (ever so slightly too far apart, adding to the aura of broadness cast his face) are Mr. Harvey's most distinct feature: his wide-set eyes. For his entire life, they've been unmistakably doleful, even though before his youth ended, they had little reason to be. Sunken, brown, and faintly almond-shaped, for the longest time Lys's eyes always made it look like he was silently pleading for his life despite knowing that the answer would be no. (The answer was no.) There was a point some ten, twelve years into his marriage that this was gradually replaced with an utter lifelessness, though if there was someone who could tell the difference, no one spoke up.

One of the few features on Lysander's face that couldn't be described as broad is his sailboat flag nose. It is perfectly triangular from the profile view and does not jut too far to either side into his cheeks, which, if it weren't for their more recently acquired hollow, dejected shape, would be classified like the majority of his features: broad. Below this sits a jaw (broad) that, if worn by the right person, would be considered proud, but Lysander's personality never filled it out the way it was meant to be. Perched between his clean-shaven chin and his pythagorean nose is a thin pair of lips, turned down at the corners and seldom opened for speech.

{Personality}

A clearcut Type B personality, Lysander Harvey has always been patient, relaxed, and generally easy-going. Being complacent and easy to get along with has made him well-liked by most, though some occasionally find him to be too apathetic. It isn't that Lys doesn't care — he spent the bulk of his adult life caring as a living — he just doesn't care about the right things. He has always found it difficult to argue, and is rightfully called a coward for his extreme pacifist tendencies. While his size and stature makes him imposing to strangers, anyone who is acquainted with Lysander knows that he is passive-aggressive to the point of just being passive.

This serious lack of drive has been a problem for Lysander, who would much prefer to retreat into his own head than to deal with the things that bother him. It's the reason why he continually gets trapped in obligations he feels he owes to people — not just his awful relationship with his wife, but to any minor commitment he makes. Lys is very easily bound in such a manner, even when he can't do something, and always used to try his best to never let people down. He follows through with tasks not out of personal pride, but out of a need to not disappoint others. Often, Lysander feels as though he's failed them regardless; generally this is not the case, though there are some glaring examples of where this feeling is more than accurate.

Perhaps the strongest aspect of Lysander's personality — if there's an aspect that can be classified as strong — is his occasional tendency to do what he wants, regardless of what others say. Though this has been increasingly rarer, Lysander still will do whatever he pleases even if it wasn't the decision that was reached. While this upsets some, but is tempered by the fact that Lys never says outright when he is going to be defiant — he simply does whatever he feels ought to be done without making a big deal out of it. Perhaps his redeeming quality, these small acts of rebellion have decreased exponentially as he has grown more and more disengaged from life as a whole.

{ooc}

Honestly I don't know what I'm going to do with him. Nothing, probably. But I've been working on him intermittently since March and it's nice to have him done.