Meilee Somerset, District Five (Finished)

Meilee Somerset, District Five (Finished) Jan 15, 2012 17:31:50 GMT -5

Post by Stare on Jan 15, 2012 17:31:50 GMT -5

...:Meilee Somerset:...

[/font]
I just want to fly.[/center]

...:Basic Info:...

What you think about this?
I've been holding it in now I'm letting it flow.
What you think about this?
Gonna do my own thing yeah I'm flying solo.

Gender: ☐ Male ☑ Female

Age: 37

District: Five

Occupation: Mayor

Family: None

...:Appearance:...

So don't tell me how it's gonna be.
I'm on my own.
And the thing of it is,
There's nothing 'round here that I'm gonna miss.

Hair Color: ☐ Blonde ☐ Red ☐ Brown ☑ Black ☐ Other: ________

Eye Color: ☐ Green ☐ Gray ☑ Brown ☐ Hazel ☐ Blue

Height: 5'4"

Weight: 120 pounds

Describe Yourself: Really, I don't see why any of this matters. Why on Earth would you need to know my weight? Why do you care what color eyes I have? Honestly, I think that this portion of the form should be removed. However, future changes to not apply currently, so I shall answer this question as desired (though I can assure you that if I get my way, future applicants will not have to).

As stated above, I have black hair. It's long and always kept clean and well brushed- I must set a good example for my citizens, after all. When I'm alone, I wear my hair down, and it falls down to just below my shoulders, only slightly wavy and cut into layers. When in public, I wear it up in a pony tail, making me radiate a positive attitude even when I don't have one. For special occasions or during big announcements such as the reaping, I have my servants twist it up into a fancy bun similar to the one my mother would put in my hair when I played dress up in my early childhood. My mother's clever fingers could weave any style out of my long onyx locks, and it seems that I am only now beginning to appreciate this, for neither I nor my servants can replicate the beautiful hairdos.

My eyes are almond shaped and framed by short black lashes. I checked brown above, but really, they are more like two pools of inky darkness, completely concealing my pupil. They are always shining with enthusiasm no matter what my mood is, and are reflective, with tiny white highlights always easily found within them. If the eyes truly are the window to the soul, than my soul is very bright and radiates excitement. There is rarely a time when my smiles don't reach them, and tears have become all but nonexistent to me. I suppose that's because I really have nothing left to be sorrowful anymore. Despite the fact that my eyes are always shining, lilac circles hang underneath them from lack of sleep. My eyebrows are plucked by myself, made smooth and nicely shaped. My forehead is rather large, and my hair does very little to hide that fact.

My face has a rather elegant look to it- thin, with high cheekbones, it almost looks as if a crown could be placed on my head and I could be called a queen. I have a pointed chin and a bit of an oddly shaped nose, but a winning smile always rests beneath it. My teeth are very white and perfectly straight, perhaps because I have always cared for them very strictly. I have a thing about being clean and healthy- I brush my teeth and hair twice a day and sometimes even shower more than seven times a week, because I enjoy feeling fresh rather than dirty. My lips are pale but plump, though age has indefinitely begun to stole some of their prominence on my face.

Despite being only three years away from entering my fourth decade of life, I remain looking quite young. The skin on my face is smooth and just about flawless, lacking wrinkles that other women my age have. I admit that this is not entirely natural- I have used all sorts of creams and techniques to ensure that time does not steal my youthful appearance. But part of it is inheritance- my mother was just just under fifty years old when she gave birth to me, and yet she looked to be just thirty. My father, though handsome, did not share this trait with her- he had unmistakable gray strands mixed in with his black when I was born. I appreciate my luck but also praise myself on doing all the right things to ensure that I do not age as my father did- I eat healthy, exercise regularly, and take care of my skin every night and morning.

Overall, I'm a bit on the short side, and am thin. I suppose, like many women, I am guilty of striving to keep myself this way- the idea of being overweight does not appeal to me. My skin is a pale caramel color and free of any scars, for I was always sure to avoid dangerous work when I was younger and the main industry of the district was farming. My age is becoming a bit apparent, though, in the loosening of my muscles and more prominent veins appearing on the backs of my hands. I know that I will never achieve immortality, but these things still make me nervous, for I have struggled to keep myself looking almost like a teenager still. These growing signs of aging are only hints to what awaits me in my future. I don't want to grow old and hunched over, with hair the color of snow. I don't want wrinkles and teeth that are rotting in my mouth.

I don't want to die the way my mother did, with pain having etched it's marks on every inch of me.

...:Personality:...

'Cause you're holding me down,
I just wanna fly.
Yeah, there comes a time when I gotta say goodbye
To the life that you see me in.
Here's where I begin.

Favorite Color: Pink

Favorite Pastime: Reading

Worst Fear: Failing those who depend on me

Describe your personality: I suppose this makes a little more sense. Still, do you really need to know my favorite color? Perhaps this section should be revised slightly- there are still nonsensical questions plaguing this form, and I would prefer that they be removed as soon as possible.

Anyway, I think my most noticeable quality is that I'm enthusiastic. My passion toward my causes are hard not to notice- I'm determined to succeed in what I do, always giving 110% in order to come out victorious. My stubbornness only makes it harder to stop me once I have made a goal for myself, and I'm never one to keep my thoughts to myself. Always eager to proove my worth, I become excited at even the smallest of accomplishments. I suppose that my constantly positive attitude can get annoying, and am sure that my unwavering detemination is seen as problematic by those who wish to stand between me and my goals; however, I feel that one must do whatever it takes to succeed or else never find true meaning behind their life.

I can honestly say that I've never been a very selfish person- my goals are always helping others. I look toward bettering the district rather than focusing on my own personal needs. All of my servants in the mansion are teenagers I found begging on the streets, and in campaigning for mayor I promised better working conditions. I'd like to think that I have helped, if only a little, and that has given the citizens of the district a positive view of me. However, this also means that before I became mayor, money ran out fast for me. There just always seemed to be people who needed it more than me, and so I willingly gave it away. As a result, I grew to appreciate the simple things in life. A vanilla ice cream cone. Icy lemonade on a summer day. Hot chocolate and a fluffy blanket in the depths of winter. Some people can't have even these things, and so that is why I gave them up in order to give to a more worthy cause than my own.

It seems like I'm always trying to prove myself. Like I'm always too young or too inexperienced or too female to do important things. But that's not the way it is, and I hate it when people prejudge me that way. I'm capable of so much more than they could ever imagine. I could change the lives of all district citizens if they'd just give me a chance. But no, I must have all my assistants and meetings with other mayors who are older and more experienced before I can really take control. By the time that they truly trust me, I'll be too old to be mayor. I'm always trying to prove them wrong- I can do this if they'll just give me the chance. I interact with the citizens and give money to different places in the district that have need of me and am a proper young lady who is magnificent in socialization. But still, that's not enough for them.

And I fear it never will be.

I'm always trying to do what's best for my district with little thought of my own preferences. The Capitol angers me. I do not like the way that it steals two children from my district each year (with the exception of one Lethe Turner, who emerged victorious from the horrible game). I do not like the way they treat my citizens as slaves. But what would rebellion do? We'd be defeated easily, and even if we one, without the Capitol as our backbone, we would fall apart. The war would fall and many would face death or disabling injuries or even insanity from the things they witness. Panem would fall into pieces. And when the Capitol rises once again, another district will probably be gone. I will not let that happen- the chances that the destroyed district could be mine are too high. I'll go to those Capitol parties and attend those meetings and enforce their laws with a smile on my face because if I don't, I am making the Capitol my enemy. My district's enemy. And I will not let my citizens down. I will never turn my back on people who need me.

I've always been a very independent woman. Never depending on others for assistance, I'm not afraid to stand alone. I'm proud and I'll only give up kicking and screaming, because that's who I am and I've never been one to rely on others to achieve my dreams. Romances? I've had a few, but none of them never really lasted, and I'm in no hurry to get my heart broken yet again. Who needs a husband, anyway? I've proven to the entire district that I don't need other people- I'm strong enough to be my own person. Support is nice, but not always necessary, as some seem to think.

Raised respectably, I have never been one without manners. When I am angry, I find that only my cold politeness can hide the fact. At Capitol parties I find these skills extremely important, for nothing offends those Capitolites more than a rude person. And, as mayor, I can't afford to be rude. So I sit with my back straight, only speaking when spoken to, with my napkin on my lap and a smile on my face. Of course, when I eat alone, I completely ignore these rules. Still, being mayor, they are good to know.

I'm so terrified. I know that it doesn't show, but I am. I don't want to disappoint people who rely on me- I know how it feels to be let down and I do not want people relating those horribly sad emotions to me. I'm scared that if I trip up, even just once, I'll let the entire district down. I think that scares me more than anything. More than nightmares or the dark or spiders or snakes.

...is that normal?

...:History:...

And I promised myself I ain't nobody's,
I just wanna be free.
And I promised myself,
Even though it don't always come easy.

My childhood was: ☐Good ☐Bad ☑In Between

Did your parents ever divorce? ☐Yes ☑No

Did you succeed in school? ☑Yes ☐No

Have you ever been accused of crimes against the Capitol? ☐Yes ☑No

Have you ever been friends with/ related to someone accused of crimes against the Capitol? ☑Yes ☐No

Describe your childhood: Well, I haven't done anything truly horrible in my life, if that's what you're asking. Really, this form is absolutely horrible. So vague that I could go on about my past from my birth all the way until now instead of just telling you the important things. In fact, to teach you a lesson, I think that's exactly what I'll do.

I was born on August 11th, in the year of the 23rd annual Hunger Games. I was a bit small for a newborn, but the healers weren't too concerned about it. My mother and father couldn't be happier- they already had a son, age six, and were absolutely delighted to have another child that they could parent. I've seen pictures- worn photographs hidden in the depths of my parents' sock drawers that show me cradles in my brother's arms as my father rests his hand on his shoulder and my mother smiles weakly behind me. I, of course, was screaming my head off in almost all these pictures, but what did you expect? I was only a baby.

As a toddler, I always said whatever was on my mind. Scared my parents silly, too, with some of the things I would say. And then I would repeat all I heard, swearing left and right and horrifying my parents further. They scolded me every time, sending me to the corner. But instead of figuring that I should watch what I said, I stopped speaking entirely. It was really the only solution that I could think of. I got nervous every time I was asked to express my thoughts as a little girl- what if I said the wrong thing? What if I offended people futher? And so I kept quiet and went along with what everyone else was saying. It seemed so much less risky than standing out. I was horrible in areas of creativity but excelled in school, so no one really cared much that I wasn't acting very unique. They figured I would grow out of it sooner or later.

My preteen years were spent wandering among friends, not really have anyone close that I could talk to. I'd seen the cat fights at school and wanted no part of them- just keeping all of my friends distant seemed to eliminate the chances of that ever happening to me. It was enough to keep my parents from worrying and to always supply me with a needed partner in school. Maybe I was right. Maybe it was the easiest way to get through life. But it wasn't the right way, and I learned that the hard way.

While I was busy staying unnoticed in school, my older brother had been causing trouble. A lot of trouble. My relationship with him was very distant, just like it was with everyone else. A word at the dinner table every now and then. Sometimes he'd make lunch for me. Nothing truly special- he was like a complete stranger to me. Which is why I think I was so suprised when I started crying the day the Keepers took him away. My parents were crying, too, absolutely devistated. I'm not really sure what he did- something about publicly speaking out against the Capitol. They let us see him one more time before they took him away. I remember that I lot of yelling happened in that alotted hour. My father was furious. He kept on asking my brother why he had done it- why did he commit such a crime? My brother, in response, said he didn't want to go through life unnoticed, like me. He wanted to stand out- he wanted his life to mean something to other people. He didn't want to be born, grow old, and die without leaving a single footprint in our society. My brother wanted to make change. We all left in tears, scarred by those sixty minutes.

We never saw him again.

After the usually mourning period, I began to really think about what my brother had said. And I realized that he was right- that people shouldn't drift through life unnoticed. I, of course, saw the glaring flaws in his plans. Angering the Capitol was a way to get killed, not noticed. There had to be other options- other ways to make a difference to people. My brother opened my eyes to all the suffering in the district, and I wanted to do something about it.

It was hard finding my voice. The fear of being slammed down was enough to keep me quiet for a while. I had to take things slowly. But gradually, one step at a time, I raised my voice. I convinced myself that I wanted to be heard. It was hard, at first. No one wanted to listen to me. But mine was a voice that was hard to ignore, and soon, I was raising money for homeless people. I was running food drives for the orphanage. I was making a difference, shining a light in the darkness. And it felt amazing. I loved helping people- all those years spent in silence seemed like such a waste compared to the ones I was going through then, when I helped District Five in ways I hadn't even known possible before.

During my teen years, I dedicated my life toward charity. I wanted to help people in as many ways as I could. It was a time of extreme pressure for me, however. Between my volunteer work and my schoolwork, I barely had time to breathe. Consequentially, I didn't have much of a social life. I did develop some skills when it came to interacting with others, but only the basics that I needed to know. And I grew older and more independent, like all teenagers eventually must do. I left the nest and bought my own home, working several different jobs in my early twenties. I became completely consumed by my volunteer work and by my jobs, desperate to stay alive and stay shining when the worst of District Five was hitting me.

And maybe that's why I didn't realize I was losing them until they were almost gone.

My dad passed first. It wasn't anything sudden or unexpected. He had been getting old and tired, and his movements became creaky. My short visits to my childhood home alerted me to the fact that my father, who had always seemed so strong and unbreakable, was slowly bending. He stopped cooking. He stopped reading. He stopped doing a lot of everything, really, except eat and sleep. And then, one day, he just didn't stop sleeping. That's... that's really the only way I can think of it without it hurting too much. I had been twenty eight at the time. My mother died a year later, from a broken heart. Or so they say. I'm not sure we'll ever really know for sure.

I don't know. Something about seeing my parents, so strong and protective, slowly weakening and tiring... it scared me. It scared me to death. I had always looked up to my parents, like any child would, and to watch them crumble was torture. They were supposed to remain eternally strong, for me if not for themselves. But I had overestimated them, and so perhaps it would have been better if their deaths had been unexpected and quick rather than drawn out so I could watch them.

After that, I dove headfirst into changing my community. Anything to distract myself. And I slowly climbed up to power. My name spread around- people knew me and liked me because they knew I was determined to help others rather than myself. Becoming mayor... well, I hate to say it, but it was kind of easy. People knew me. That old man remembered I gave him a can of greenbeans on the day he would have starved to death. That young woman remembered the way I lent her money on the street when no one else would. They wanted me, a friend, up there, not a complete stranger.

I'm still mayor, to this day, and I still do my best to help other people. I can't really get out of the habits now that I'm in them. And I still have my fears- I want to be there for people instead of drifting through life as unnoticed as a speck of dust. I live a decent life. And yet...

And yet, maybe that isn't enough anymore.

...:Codeword/Other:...