TALON IRVENE | MAYOR OF NINE | FIN

I've always been small. Even when I was a child in school, I was about ninety pounds, and a foot and a half shorter than everyone else. My skin was always dark, and it always seemed to yellow in the winter with the lack of warmth and sunlight. I would say that the years have been nice to me, though. For someone my age, and for someone who works to maintain it, I am in pretty good condition. Really, just a quick jog through the woods a couple times a week and making smart decisions when it comes to eating is all it takes. It takes up time, but to me it's worth it. My limbs are thin and lean, and my core flat and healthy because, just like everything else in my life I've gotten, I've worked for it.

My hair is long and thick, and as dark as night. Usually, it is up in whatever hairstyle I feel is appropriate for the events taking place that day. Usually, it's just my signature bun, but on days that I am video chatting with Capitol officials and the other Mayors, I try to look as powerful as possible, so maybe a sleek ponytail, or I might just let my hair fall down passed my shoulders in it's curly natural form. I know it may seem like a stupid thing to worry about, but keeping up appearance is necessary.

People say I look like some sort of animal, most often a cat, in the face. My chin is narrow, my jaw slender. I have long, thin lips that hide sharp teeth. My teeth are probably makes people think of me as an animal the most. They've just always been sharp, I guess it's something weird and unusual about me. My nose is small for the most part, a bit bulky on the end, if you ask me. It is the least-feral feature on my slender face, that is certain.

My eyes are what I use to get what I want. They are somewhere between caramel and sunlight in color, but my irises are slit, again making me seem cat-like. They are shaped like over-sized almonds, and people say I always seem to be studying things too closely with them. Learning about them. They say I seem to always have something hiding behind them, that I always seem to be hard at thought, and I am. I am always so focused on everything at once, and I always try my hardest not to mess things up, but there are times that I get over-whelmed.

Just by looking at me, people say they can tell I'm intelligent. I'm wise and calculating, always a step ahead of everyone else. I always have been. I like to know what's coming- and to know how to deal with it. I like to be in control of my surroundings as much as possible. It makes me feel safe. I can trust myself, and I can't say that about a lot of other people. I don't ask much of other people. They can be unreliable. They did elect me mayor, and I am grateful for that, but on a personal level I like to create relationships and sever them before they become burdensome.

Mostly, it's because I'm no good with emotions, and never have been. I was always cold, and always in control, the only difference is that now I have a title. I'm no longer the underdog, I'm now the queen. I won't let something as silly as love hold me back, and I refuse to risk it. Love has already came too close to ruining me before. Sure, I'll keep people around me when they help me, but eventually I sever all ties, and never look back. It's really better that way, if you want my opinion. I have to worry about keeping everyone satisfied as it is.

I like to make time for myself when I can. Which is a rare occurrence. I'm lucky to go running once or twice a week. I seem more myself out in the woods, where I can see all of the pretty birds and stones, and every now and again, petrified wood. My collection of colorful stones and wood have been growing since I was sixteen years old. I fimd them fascinating, because they remind myself of me. Beautiful, but hard to break. Strong and sturdy and determined.

I've always had a sort of grace about me, something that makes me seem so elegant, when really I'm not. I have always been good at pretending, though. I've always been one to let other's think what they wanted of me, because usually they are right. I know I can be, well, for lack of a more elegant word, a bitch. I know that, and I've always embraced it. It has kept me strong when I had nothing else. I'm not some sort of animal, though. I do have my dignity, and I do care about the welfare of my district. They asked me to lead them, and I've accepted the responsibility. Because I know I can do it. I know that I have what it takes to protect them, and to represent them. There is always the chance I might fail them, but I don't plan on it. Like anyone, I have secrets. But my secrets could quite possibly knock me off of the throne forever. They are so breath taking, so awful, that I honestly don't know what I would do if anyone were to find out about them. About her.

Nobody would've ever believed that Moody and Wilma Irvene's only daughter was going to one day become mayor. Being born with nothing wasn't easy. We barely had enough money to make ends meet, and at times not enough money to eat everyday. My parents were old even then- already beginning to slow down in their lives. By the time I was ten, they wore wrinkles, and I understood that it was hard for them to work. They were exhausted from a long life of doing so. I felt like a burden often times, because they probably would have made it by just fine, had I never came along.

However, they still taught me everything I know. And I knew what they were teaching me was true because I watched them live their lives through it all. Really, they were inspiring to me. Always plan, they'd told me. Turns out they hadn't planned me, and they ended up suffering the consequences. Never, ever give up. They worked until the day they died, and I will always admire them for that. Really, in some ways, I was lucky as a child, because not everyone had parents that cared. Not everybody had parents. Because of them, even from a young age, I became a fighter. Far too strong willed for anyone else's own good.

Two weeks after my sixteenth birthday, I made a huge mistake. Something that could easily tear her life apart, and easily the worst of my life. I had to go into hiding from as many people as I could, to hide my mistake until I could get rid of it. There was no way I was letting children ruin me like I had my parents. When I finally had my little girl, I dropped her off at an orphanage and never looked back. Good thing, too, because I never realized just how close to being on top I was.

My high school graduation was a huge relief on me. Like my parents, I worked hard, and it all paid off when I graduated at the head of my class, but it was nice to not have to always push myself. To deny myself of other people's company so that I could finish a big project. I was free, in a way. Reluctantly, I moved into the center of the district, because as much as I loved them, I didn't want the same life they had. I didn't want to work my entire life, and have so little to show for it. For a little while after moving though, when nobody seemed willing to hire me, I was beginning to believe that was the only future I was allowed to have, but I stayed strong and powered through.

Before too long, I landed a job as the mayor's intern. Not nearly good enough, but enough to keep me alive until I could get what I wanted. However, working in the mayor's office was really nice. A stable, clean environment, lots of refined, decent people, and a decent paycheck was certainly nothing to complain about. I was also very, very good at my job, which was just icing on the cake. In a few years time, I still worked in the mayor's office, but not as an intern. I was slowly pulling myself up to the top of District Nine.

Running for mayor was pretty amazing, if you asked me. I thought that was a big thing until I actually won. Really, even I was surprised, because our mayor really was a good one- a fantastic one. But if people thought I could do a better job than him, then there was no way I was turning back. I had a duty to fulfill. District Nine was now mine to look after. Last time I had something that was mine, I left it because I was afraid. Honestly I never forgave myself for it, but this time I was staying. I was going to do what I was meant to do as mayor. And nobody was going to stop me.