Juniper 'Joon' Pearl - D6 {Done}

She was a girl, like any other girl…and yet so very much unlike any other girl that I hardly know how to describe her. Eyes and ears all in their correct orientation, hair such a pale blonde it was nearly white, as if the color had been bled away. Though her eyes were blue, it was such a quasi hue, nothing fascinating or hypnotizing as you might find in another. Nothing riveting in her gaze—save perhaps the gaze itself. So direct and interested, she never ducked her head or hid behind coy lashes as other lasses have a tendency to. No, she met you straight on and took a good long look inside. There is something unsettling to such a practice in a child, as if they could see more than they should.

I can recall with clarity the ethereal quality to her features, like pre-Panem stories of elves or little creatures living in the woods. The pallor of indoor living only intensified the similarity, and a lifetime of sparse eating lent a gauntness to her frame that made it appear any breath of wind might lift her from the ground and set her spinning about on invisible wings.

Unlike such fairy stories, however, no brilliant butterfly wings graced the narrow span of her back. In their place were the ridges and grooves, rippled skin from a network of old scars. They bent and twisted over the terrain of bone and muscle like a map, a lifetime of history written skin deep. It would take the right scholar to read its language, though, and few are given the opportunity to study. The ease of scars is in how swiftly and thoroughly a simple shirt can hide them away.

Despite any ugly or mysterious past she hides, Joon’s personality is rich with vivacity. Never one to entertain the notion of shyness, she is the first to embrace a new acquaintance, accepting people into her world with a near naïve trust. Despite any number of times that trust has been compromised or proven ill founded, she still inevitably turns to the next stranger with the same artless confidence.

In this way and many others, Juniper remains childlike in her mannerisms. It’s not that you would call her unintelligent or immature, she just possesses the uncomplicated outlook that is typically seen in much younger children. The world around holds a sparkly fascination for her in even its most commonplace details, and she is thoroughly enthusiastic in its exploration and discovery. This avidity can grow obnoxious at times, especially for the others in the house who are struggling with the heavy responsibilities of adulthood. Joon can’t be pinned down for any serious conversation unless she so chooses, and will often just up and walk out in the middle of being lectured because she got bored.

This also affects her ability to hold down a job. While a natural affinity for any bit of machinery and its workings makes her invaluable around the labs, factories, and even households of District Six, the habit she has of abandoning a task once it loses interest makes it hard for her to keep a steady employment. Instead, she tends to hop from job to job, called in when a stubborn or malfunctioning piece of equipment requires her special magic, and passed a little cash under the table for the services.

Amongst the others, Joon holds a special place. The drama of living with a group of struggling teenagers never rubs off on her spirits, and she always seems to be a fount of optimism. When arguments break out, fragile tempers snapping, it can be counted on that she ends up in the middle of the fray. Shushing January’s angry tirades, trying to soothe some of February’s exhausted stress, keeping the younger ones amused. The buoyancy that defines Juniper Pearl is irrepressible, even when some wish it wasn’t.

As if to confirm the theory that she was some otherworldly creature, no one in District Six has any idea where she came from or who her parents could be. She just showed up one day, found wandering through a restricted hover hangar where experimental crafts are housed. Apparently she had pulled apart one of the engines and was tinkering with it when the workers arrived for the day. The whole building was in an uproar until she placidly proceeded to put it back together and prove that it now ran with a higher efficiency and no longer overheated, a problem that the engineers had been wrestling with for weeks.

Despite, or maybe because of this inherent talent, Joon never fully fit into the society of her peers, finding it difficult to dissect the workings of a human mind. Engines and machinery had a point, a purpose, and a consistent way of functioning that only altered when they were broken. People, on the other hand, were fickle and emotional…they grew angry and sad for reasons that Juniper didn’t always comprehend. There was no way to open up a skull and “fix” the brain until the person acted in a way that made sense. Resigned to that fact, the girl stopped trying to find a place for herself in the District and became something of a vagrant fixture, often found wandering about and investigating anything with pistons and parts that could be disassembled for her examination.

Eccentric—an ideal word for her behavior. Either from too much genius or too little social acceptance, a mixture of the two…it’s your guess as good as mine. Most of District Six shunned her save when they needed her assistance with a particularly difficult mechanism. Though not quite a lunatic, she certainly exhibited some odd traits and could often be overheard talking to whatever bit of machinery held her current focus. Singing to a hovercraft’s navigation system in a lilting but off-key voice, or holding the most unusual debates with a truck engine. Whether they ever returned her conversation in like kind is a matter that remains a mystery.

At the end of a project, her white blond head and scampering feet could be seen disappearing along the town’s streets, headed who knew where for the night. Perhaps under a bridge or some back alley or abandoned house. That is, until about six months ago when January and Gus headed home from work to find themselves shadowed by the odd girl. She never said a word, just fell into step with them, her grease-marked face a study in casual and lips pursed in an odd little whistling tune. When the duo arrived at the doorstep to their house, they found themselves surprised that Joon walked right in beside them and made herself at home by the table, waiting on dinner. And that was that. The girl made no explanations for her sudden arrival, and she never departed.