♫|shean zwielich|wanderer|♪

♫|shean zwielich|wanderer|♪ Jan 30, 2011 13:18:16 GMT -5

Post by shrimp on Jan 30, 2011 13:18:16 GMT -5

shean raenger zwielich
actions -- 5B6C74 / words -- 1383B3
memories -- A4B2BA / ♪ -- D6D2D9

- male -
- born and raised in District 11 -
- 19 years of age post 57th-
- heterosexual -
appearance

Shean Zwielich was never really known for blending into the crowd. He can be easily spotted, for he tends to be a tad bit taller than most. His 6'1" stature makes him considerably tall, especially when it is compared to his family. His father was the one who had the tall gene, passing it onto his son, but not his daughter. Elizzaebeth is only about 5'2", and she is two years his junior. Shean doesn't necessarily hate his height, but he dislikes being looked at simply because he might stand out. It's just height, he thinks. It's not that important.

He weighs 140 pounds, putting him on the cusp between either being underweight or being considerably "normal", when compared to his height. It does show on Shean - the weight is distributed around his body, making his ribs show slightly, and his muscles look more toned than bulky. There simply isn't enough fat on the body to make him look like some of the Careers; rippling 6-packs, biceps as large as their hands, etc. He just doesn't have that, and he doesn't think he ever really will.

Tanned skin is evident during the summer, where District 11 is at its warmest. The boy doesn't burn easily, so instead of a rosy red color after working, it'll seem more baked, the kind of tone that many Capitolites might wish that they had, and would cause them to tan to extreme amounts, ending up looking similar to oranges. Shean's skin color during the summer is more like a light gold than a bronze color. In the winter however, it still retains some of the sun that it absorbed in the summertime, and therefore has a cream-like color instead of the darker, warmer color that tends to be showcased more often than not. The skin on his arms is dusted with a layer of freckles, and there is a slightly raised mole on his left arm too, but even if it would cause a disease, he doesn't have enough money to combat it.

His hair is a light blond color, and becomes even lighter in the summertime - almost resembling the sun's hue when you stare directly into it, but not quite as painfully bright. The hair is feathery - it tends to blow in the wind sometimes, and there isn't a whole lot of it. Once or twice, he wonders if he'll go bald prematurely, which probably will be the case. But for now, his head is somewhat covered with light, feathery spikes of hair. It's cut short, so it doesn't get in the way of his sight. He needs his eyes to work, after all.

Speaking of his eyes, one might describe them as almond shaped. They're slightly narrowed, and tend to be slightly squinting often. You see, he has somewhat bad vision. His lazy eye prevents him from being able to see perfectly - his left eye can see better than his right. It annoys the boy; he doesn't want to have to squint when he reads, and not understand anything even when the words are somewhat legible (but we'll discuss that later).

personality

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Pre-Accident

Shean always was one of those silent types. He tended to think before he spoke, often he became lost in the confines of his mind, analyzing something in his own way of thinking. You see, he was never a particularly bright kid, always being a bit behind in class, never fully understanding what everyone was talking about. Eventually, he grew to have a live and let live attitude to things. His analyzing of events eventually all ended with a "it is what it is" kind of conclusion, with him not really learning anything in the process.

However, being a teenager, he still was able to understand practical things, like working in the fields, or cooking and cleaning, things like that. It was just all of the school stuff that confused him. He felt that there was no use in learning about math, for instance, for if it wasn't going to help increase his salary, or help make life easier immediately, then what use was it to him?

Instead, as aforementioned, Shean liked to contemplate things to the best of his ability, walking through the world, slightly blind. It didn't really affect his social life, however. He was a friendly kid, rather generous, if not overly so. He was easily misled by his peers however, into doing too much for them at times. Often, he would end up lumbering into his house at odd hours of the night, having worked multiple shifts for his "friends". He didn't mind, however, as he felt that he was appreciated, more or less.

Whenever night would fall, the boy always sat outside, ontop of a hilltop, simply gazing up at the stars and softly playing his harmonica. He loved, and still loves music; it's one of his passions. Occasionally while working he would hum a tune, or whistle. He was always fascinated by how, just by using your voice, or by some odd contraption, you could lift someone's spirits, which is one reason why he took up harmonica playing.

Post-Accident

Now, he's simply shocked. He can't really believe what happened, and just attempts to complete the same routines over and over again, to give him a sense of normalcy in life. However, he seems different, a tad bit lifeless. Shean has stopped attempting to help everyone that he sees. Instead, he'll just wander away, worrying about what might have happened if he had stopped to help out. Perhaps he would have made it worse, he doesn't know.

His grades have dropped; a feat which seemed impossible, given the fact that he was almost failing to begin with. Now, he is bringing home Fs and Ds and whatnot, and he really doesn't care, much to the chagrin of his parents. To him school seems even more meaningless than before. His nonchalant attitude has become more prominent, as he just has flat out stopped even bothering to try and pass.

Evenings are now spent alone, in his room. He avoids that hilltop, as well as his harmonica nowadays, for every time he picks it up, or sees the grass that overlooks the horizon, he's reminded of that day, and that's the one thing that he wants to forget.

[/size]history

Malcolm and Leisa Zwielich had never really intended to have a child so quickly into their marriage. Granted, they were in their early 30s when they got married, but the two had intended to wait a couple of years, make sure that they were solidified in their careers as farmers. However, that wasn't what fate had in store for them. A good year after their marriage, the two had Shean. As baby, Shean was always looking around, silent. This type of thinking made his parents give him a nickname "Professor Zwielich". Eventually, the nickname was forgotten when two years later, Malcolm and Leisa were extremely stressed with raising two children, the next one born being Elizzaebeth.

Entering school, it was realized that Shean wasn't really the Professor that they thought he'd be. It was somewhat hard for him to grasp simple concepts, like reading for instance. However, it didn't affect his ability to be friendly, for he quickly made friends. As time passed however, his friends began to look down upon him, thinking that they were superior simply because they got better grades. He struggled, attempting to catch up, but eventually he simply let it happen. He became less stressed as he received his bad grades, knowing that he simply wasn't trying hard enough. In this way, Shean felt that he wasn't failing because he couldn't understand, he was failing because he wanted to.

Eventually, he began to work. He labored in the fields, working long hours in strenuous conditions with little pay. On top of that, his friends began to become interested in dating, and asked him to work their shifts for them. Being the generous guy he was, he accepted. However, they quickly took advantage of this, leaving him to work until it became rather late. That's where he met Lainey.

They had run into each other after work, walking home in the same direction. She had spoke first, a quick "hello". He simply smiled a bit, nodding in response. The path towards their homes was long, so they had plenty of time to get to know one another, and after a few days of idle chitchat, they delved into conversations with more sustenance. She, a straight A student, aiming to become a teacher. A rebellious one, independent, daredevil. He, on the other hand, was content to do what others wanted. The two seemed extremely different, yet somehow, they became friends. They would meet, everyday, on a hilltop that overlooked a large portion of District 11. He'd play his harmonica, and she would listen.

Slowly, but surely, he began to harbor feelings towards her, ones that were a bit more elevated than the simple "friend" level. He guessed that she was oblivious towards this, because she continued to act like she always had. She seemed to not be attracted to him at all, actually, and once or twice he saw her gazing in someone else's direction, but turned back towards him before he could see who it was. Nevertheless, eventually the boy resolved to tell her his feelings.

The day had been bright, yet cloudy. Lainey and Shean had ventured to the orchards - they didn't need to go to work today; it was Reaping Day. Both of them had escaped the wrath of the Hunger Games (poor girl, she was only what, 14?), and they felt it was a time for silent celebration. Recently, Lainey had taken a liking to heights, and had decided that she would climb up that apple tree, even though she had little to no experience in climbing at all. Shean watched from the ground, unsure about the whole situation. But he trusted her judgment, so he didn't make any arguments against the ordeal. But then, there was a noise, and he looked up to see his crush tumbling towards the ground.

He tried to reach her, he really did. But she just fell too quickly, or he started running too late. Either way, he would never forgive himself for not being able to save her life.

Later, he found out that she wouldn't have liked him anyways - she had already been in a relationship with another girl her age. But that didn't help ease the grief that he held towards her death. He didn't go to her funeral; he couldn't stand seeing her being lowered into the casket, never to see the sky again. He just sat there, in his room, and silently cried.

After the Games (poor girl - killed by those weird snake things), Shean went back to the hill, with his harmonica. But... it felt different, like it wasn't whole. She wasn't there, listening as he slowly played the notes. She was gone, and so was his incentive to be on that hill, that overlooked the stars and the square and a good amount of the fields that were sprawled across the District. So he left, and a part of him is probably still there; the part that cares. His grades dropped again, he felt empty, sullen. His parents didn't know what to make of it. But he didn't really care now. Lainey had dreams, hadn't she? And she was dead. So why should he bother doing something that he knew that he couldn't do?

So he stopped trying to look smart. He stopped trying to be the optimistic one that everyone had come to know him as. He just... was there.

Like a ghost.