Marreta Cazador (District 11)

Marreta was born and raised in the poorest of the poor districts. With that said it isn't hard to imagine that Marreta would be if anything, a little malnourished (weighing in at roughly 170 pounts). Of course, working in the agricultural district has it's advantages. Standing at roughly 5 feet and 10 inches, he isnt going to stand out in a crowd very often. Firstly, keeping his body strong and once in a while sneaking a small fruit or two. If it wasnt for all the running around and climbing Marreta does on a daily basis, he would be nothing more then a bag of bones. Being out in the sun all day also leaves his skin with a seemingly natural dark olive skin tone, although naturally he already has an olive skin color. He has a great pair of legs, strong and toned. Marreta does have considerable upper and core body strenght, due to all the climbing he does. It is very apparent that the upper part of his body isnt as well strengthened as his legs and core, a natural born runner and jumper.

Upon closer inspection one may find that the body, legs and arms of Marreta are host to many minor scars and a few nastier larger scars with stories to tell. Short extremely dark chocolate hard rests on his scalp, although it is often mistaken for purely black hair. At a young age his hair was once curly but has now, with age, straigtened out and became smooth. His eyes stand out through his dark olive complexion with a light greeny-hazel laced with brilliant strands of gold, almost like they would pluse with light. Above these eyes are thin and relatively long lashes. His head, supported by a thick neck, has almost flawless skin aside from a childhood scar crossing horizontally just below his right eye. He sports a warriors nose, long and wide nostrils, helping him take in the air he needs to move.

Although he may not be the strongest with his upper strenght, it is apparent that there is tense muscle mass on his arms with large veins to boast. As for his chest, besides the thin patch of hair between his pectorals, he has strong and well defined chest muscles. At the core its very apparent that there is enormous strenght built up there, strong abs and muscles is just a start. As for his legs there is no other like his. Although at first they seem moderately thick they are toned which is needed for his explosive energy stored in his legs to get him moving and such great speeds.

General dress for Marreta is nothing special. Usually found in his work work clothes, he wears a dirt stained, tattered, white muscle shirt and an equally tattered and dirt pair of loose fitting jeans. The pockets of said jeans have been enlarged to help hide any thing he could use that may land him in hot water. Other then that, he wears a small coin strung on a necklace around his neck, the coin of from an anciet time, part of his family history, the words "Maple Vale" are still barely visable on the coin. Theres something strange about it. As for shoes, there in the worst condition, wore and white, the soles of the shoe starting to run out, these shoes still hold most of their rubber cleats, giving him the grip he needs to climb and run. Finally there is the slight issue of a black tattoo on his right shoulder that circles around, back in on itself. It was an act of expression, the barbed chains representing the fences inprisoning Marreta in this district. It was created with little more then a sharp metal pin and a coal dust mixture with ink and.

Marreta is a skilled runner and jumper. Being one of the fastest around he has no problem running arrends for someone for a little extra coin. He is also rather proud of his acrobatic prowess, although he doesnt admit it. He is able to scale buildings and maybe other surfaces with in a short about of time. He oftens spends his time up above the ground, trying to reach out to the birds he so envies for their freedom and flight. What he cannot do with flying he more then makes up for it in his speed and nimble reflexs, making him untouchable. He focuses on this gift of his to compensate for his slightly above average strenght. Although he can pull himself up with ease, he isnt as skilled with heavy lifting or in a full out brawl. He relies heavily on getting the first hit and the most hits. Ducking and weaving are almost second nature to him. With this dexterity he prefers thrown knives, bow and arrows, machetes and anything that favors speed over strenght.

Marreta isnt a loner and isnt out in public putting his name out there. While he may have very close connections with a couple handfulls of fellow street kids and workers. His trust isnt easy to earn though, he tends to keep to himself and distrust anyone he hasnt know for the greater part of his life unless this potential member of his inner network of friends was to help him out in some great way out of the goodness in their heart. At first Marreta may seem distance and only willing to share a name and a few words, will eventually warm up to someone and become more talkitive. With that said, Marreta always makes time to help out anyone who looks like they need it, even if he doesnt know them very well, and will never ask for anything in return.

He isnt a mean person, but being the oldest child in the family, hes had to do a lot of standing up for himself. He's a stern person with a seemingling unbreakable resolve to keep outsiders away from him, but does infact have a softer side. He just doesnt like opening up to strangers out of fear they may expose his more unlawful side and put his family and friends at risk. He is a team player, often working with other street youths with various tasks around town that people need to get done, whether it is a simple collection, gathering supplies or more illegel jobs in support of the community. He doesnt care about self image or himself as much as he should, all that matters is that the poeple he cares about are safe and not straving to death.Lately more then ever, he's had a hole in his life, and he yearns to fill it with the kind of company where he can finally lose himself.

The subject of family history often comes up in conversation around the house. Or what they call a house anyways. The necklace wrapped around Marreta's neck has been in the family since the beginning of time apparently. Tracing so far back it's almost an object of ledgend. Marreta's father, Sol, said that he got it from his father who go it from his father and so on. The name "Arcanjo" is etched in the back of the coin, probably the original owner, his great great great something grandfather. For all Marreta knew the coin predated the coming of chirst itself. "Long line of fighters." Is all his father would tell Marreta about his family history. It couldnt be more true.

As for recent history, there isnt much colour to it. Born and raised in the slums of sunny district 11, Marreta has never known a day of rest or relaxation. Except of course when he is soaring between roof tops late in the night, silently racing through town. As a child no more than age 8, he was already put to work in the orchards. He never had much of a childhood. Work was all he knew, but he soon discovered his love for movement, racing the fellow children on sundays, climbing to the tallest branches for the best fruit. At every month he would put his name one more time into the ballot of the reaping to get the little extra food he could give to his family. By the age of 14 he had built up a reputaiton with fellow workers, being a helpful and portective soul, willing to risk life and limb for those close to him.

Everything changed once he turned 16. This was the year Marreta lost his youngest brother, aged 12. He was always a frail bodied boy. Benicao, the youngest of the 3 brothers was found dead in a ditch just a few hours after a days work in the fields. Puncture wounds were found in his tiny chest, his pockets emptied for anything of worth. This drove a spike through Marreta's heart, the sudden and violent loss of his youngest brother. He swore to protect his family, this only drives him to worker hard to protect his loved ones. Benicao being a reminder to him, that anything could happen to those he loves. Whether its the annual reapings or in district blood letting.

OOC: STOREH TIEM

Sitting at the very highest branch that would support his wait, Marreta sits there, pearched much like the birds he so envies. It's sunday, day of rest, sitting in the tree, soaking up the sun nd watching little children chase each other around in the field below. He lets out a deep sigh.
"17 years old 3 months ago."
His mind begins to wander off to the horizon, spying a flight of birds in the distance. Wishing to leap from the tree and simply be free, for everyone to sprout wings and be free. He casually looks over his shoulder. Coast is clear. With the speed of a hunting bird, he snatches a near by apple and eats it quickly, pit and all. His mind returns to his previous thoughts.
"17. just 2 more years and the hunger games will no longer haunt me. No, thats not true. My little brother, my last brother still has 4 years and 24 ballots to his name. I wont be able to step in for him once I turn 19."
He closes his eyes.
"What can he do about it? Rebel?"
The breeze picks up, it cools me down as the clouds mask the sun.
"Must be close to evening by now."
His eyes begin to wander, the sounds of giggling catches his attention and he finds himself draw to a group of girls, no older than him. He looks at them, as if discovering women for the first time.
"Shes beautiful. I wonder if she'll wanna han-"
Marreta snaps out of it.
"I've been relaxing up in this tree for too long."
The time for reflection is over, he had to get away from the girls, clear his head. As he stands on the branch, 40 feet above the ground, he jumps off and skips from branch to branch, ever so gracefully down to the ground, not a single snapping a branch.
"Now thats practice, maybe she'll notice?"
Marreta blushes, and hurried off to go spend his time on some other venture. His necklace slaps against his chest as he kicks up dust clouds behind him.
"Do I really need a girl now? I dont think its what I need right now."
As he runs, following where the wind leads, in his heart he already knows the answer to that question already.

No face claim, Just a picture of Marreta in better dress after a reaping.