Forge Harth, D12

There isn’t much of Forge’s face that can be seen from under his dark mop of hair, but if you were to move his fringe out of the way you would see indented cheeks, shallow, lifeless grey eyes and colourless lips that are so thin that they almost disappear. You can tell from his permanent sullen expression what life in the Seam is like: hungry, cold and dull.

Being a typical Seam resident, his hair is coal black. He takes after his father, as in, his hair is thick and stubborn. He can’t do anything with it really; he brushes it, but it stays messy no matter how many times he goes over it. It’s been left to grow out over the years since there’s no point in cutting it; the only important event that he attends is the Reaping and he won’t have to meet safety regulations in the mine until he works there from 18 years old.

Forge stands at six feet, the same height as his father, but he is stick thin; his ribs are visible through his shirt, his trousers are baggy on his narrow legs and his hands look like they belong to a skeleton. But that doesn’t mean that his skin can’t be smooth and soft, even if it is permanently cold. There is no fat or muscle on him, and it is a daily struggle to keep his body going. Most of his height is down to his legs. They are long and lanky and allow his to run at great speeds because of his large stride, but he doesn’t have the energy to keep going for long. He has some light scarring in places, like a few marks on his upper arms where he scratched when he contracted chicken pox, and the rare healed cut on his arm or leg from when he hit an all time low. If you zoom out, you see a skinny, starving teenage boy, with only one way that his life could get worse: the Hunger Games. He knows by simply looking at his reflection in a murky puddle that if he is ever Reaped, he won’t make it back alive.

His rags were bought years ago, but thankfully his father was intelligent enough to buy him clothing that he could grow into. His garments are limited to a tank top with a thin cotton shirt thrown over the top to protect (and hide) his arms, and a pair of baggy trousers that stop just above his ankles; also, a pair of itchy woollen socks and a pair of leather shoes that are falling apart. Whenever he finds spare scraps of material, he uses them to patch up his clothes so that they can be used a little longer. He owns a waterproof coat but rarely uses it, restricting it to the harshest of winter weather because it is a priceless possession. He doesn’t own a set of Reaping clothes – his father says that if they waste money on materialistic things like that then they’ll need more tessera than they can claim. But he would love a suit, even if it’s tattered and had previous owners. But his father will have none of it.

Some would describe Forge as being stubborn, but really it’s his sure determination to survive, prosper, and most importantly, be right. He’s intelligent regarding school and his desired career of a miner, and he is exceptional at solving mathematical problems (for a District 12 resident), but can’t apply knowledge to things that he hasn’t been taught about. But even if he can’t make or design something, he can imagine it well, as his creative mind is free even if his life isn’t. His one escape is to lie on his bed, staring at the ceiling and dreaming up his perfect life; he would be content in District 12 so long as he could feed himself and his family, which he is certain will include at least a son, a daughter, and the most loving wife in the world. It shouldn’t be hard for him to settle down one day as he is kind and charming, and not the worst looking boy in the Seam. As far as physical traits are concerned, he might not be strong or skilled, but he is fast – very fast. He’s built to be a sprinter, as his legs are long but he can’t handle distances longer than a hundred metres. He is also agile, something that he has developed from darting though alleys and around corners when running from scenes of mischief, and has an extremely light tread, making him stealthy.

The biggest problem with Forge is that he is depressed. Who can blame him? He lives in the poorest conditions in the country, he’s got a high chance of being selected to take part in the Hunger Games, and his mother died shortly after giving birth to him. He blames himself for her death, even though he’s been told repeatedly that it was because District 12 simply didn’t have the equipment to save her. And so the other part of his problem kicks in: he has a strong hate for the Capitol. Because of his condition, he is highly sensitive to criticism, constructive or otherwise, and takes massive risks without properly evaluating the full extent of the situation. Although he is smart, he is slow thinking, and he needs peace and quiet to make a decision or to work something out. Then there is the huge list of physical issues he has. He is weak in general, starving even, and falls sick quite easily because he doesn’t have enough nutrition to fight off illness. On top of this, he is asthmatic from the coal dust that fills the air in the Seam, and his vision is slightly blurred; he and his father know that he needs glasses, but they can’t afford them.

Forge is impartial about food – he’s lucky if he eats seven meals in a week. Even scraps from bins are edible to him. He’s just happy to make it from one day to the next, but when he can get his own job in the mine he wants to save up with his father for a better house; better means a roof that doesn’t leak and room for him to have a family. As lovely as they are, Forge isn’t attracted to the merchant girls. He prefers the dark, silent beauty of the Seam women – dark and silent, where have we heard that before?

He thinks that the bravest people in the world are the District 12 tributes that are shipped off to the Hunger Games every year because, despite recent times, they have little chance against the Careers. He believes that,