☠ LUCIA THOMAS | D2 | FINISHED ☠

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Lucia's glittering blue eyes gleam with happiness, when her temper is hiding away. Her skin is pure white, like a porcelain doll, but when she is angered, flames erupt, causing her face to blaze scarlet. Her smile is seldom seen, but when it appears makes her glow. A raging fuss of dirty blonde drapes over her shoulders, tickling her neck.

Lucia was too small to be a gymnast or a trapeze artist, so she became the juggler by default. She wasn't happy enough to be a clown. Well, maybe the murderous type. Her palms are scratched from failed attempts at juggling blades or pikes. Nails dirty from carelessness. Lucia's small wardrobe contains mostly red garments, dark wine tones are her favourite.

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Ever since Lucia was young, she has problems with her anger. Her elder sisters hoped it was a passing phase, but it never left. It takes very little for the fuse to be lit. An odd look from a stranger, a misinterpreted joke or an unintentional nudge. The volcano in the pit of her soul will erupt, endangering everyone exposed to her flowing of burning rage. To be protected from this blaze Lucia must be left alone, curled up in her corner.

Keep away from Lucia when she's scared, which is most evenings. Being scared angers her. Heights terrify her. Being part of a circus with two of her sisters spinning around in the air doesn't help much. She is also frightened of venomous snake and death, which was both caused and fueled by the Games, creating a endless loop of fear.

Ever since she was a little girl she has loved circles. More than anything or anyone in the world. When she gets bored, Lucia draws circles on the walls, in the dirt, and finds rolling her eyes strangely entertaining. That is why she fell in love with her art.

Lucia is also extremely superstitious.

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Don't leave us Mommy. Where are you going?

Lucia's mother left in the night, with no warning, leaving the sisters with no hope. What were they to do? Food? Money? None of that mattered really. What mattered was they had no parent to cry to, no one to care for them. They only had each other. It was hard at first. Nothing was clear. Their path was hidden from them. But when the concept of the circus erupted into the girl's minds Lucia knew everything would be alright.

I don't want to be the clown!

Lucia spent hours srating into the night. Why would anyone suggest she should become a clown? Wear funny make-up and through cream pies? No, she wasn't actress material and they knew it. With a cold fingertip she traced the outline of the shining moon. Circle, circle, circle. For the first time in her short life she began to admire the eternal loops of nature. The moon, the sun, the art of juggling.

I will be the star...

From that day forward the idea of being an artist, the master of her own delights, the creator of such wonders. A juggler. She started with pebbles. One, two, three, four. Getting bigger, more daring, she practiced with everything from clothing tied in knots to rusty daggers. Finally, she started work on her pride and joy. The blazing circle. Setting pine cones alight and spinning them in the air, with clay secretly masking her hands, making her a magical being.

The child that juggles fire!

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FC - Beatriz Saladich
Lyrics - Paradise by Coldplay

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