District 5: Mercy Allan

PUFF THE MAGIC DRAGON

LIVED BY THE SEA[/center][/size][/font][/color]

In you go deep into District 5 and into a house, a particular house, easy to find. You'll see a few people maybe standing around outside, or perhaps spot them in the window. You walk for a while and find it, exactly how it was desribed. A boy sits on the ground stroking a blade of grass, a girl is standing staring into space, and you sneak into the house. There is a man speaking to nothing, a boy seeming to be trying to get himself hurt by a rather annoyed looking man, a sitting idly, and even a little boy complaining to a woman about something you can't quite hear. You know who you're looking for though. It's someone you've been told about. Mercy Hermione Allan. Which one is she? You ask. In this house of wierd people, you can't seem to find her. But then, as if by magic, she is suddenly visible. Curled up in a chair watching everyone closely. She seems to be acting like a girl of four or five, even though she is eightteen. You know nothing but her name, her ge, and where she lives. Now you'll find out the rest. You hear a crash and turn around to see someone kicking a table violently, but soon the woman talking tot he complaining boy calms him down and you tun your attention back to Mercy. You run your eyes over her as a start, and take in her appearance closely. You're going to memorize what she looks like, and she seems to be in the perfect position to do so.

AND FROLICKED IN THE AUTUMN MIST

IN A LAND CALLED HONAH LEE[/center][/size][/font][/color]



The first thing you look at is the top of her head, where you can plainly see the bright, auburn hair. The light that reflects off it gives a somewhat brighter tint on the places it hits just right. Even though it is spread out as she is laying there, you can plainly see it is straight. Straight, but with a few little waves here and there. It is also very long. So long, you notice, it looks as though it could reach past her waist. It does. It does, and she likes it that way. That's one of the things she likes about her appearance, and she thinks long hair is very pretty. Her hair parting is wide, but the hair is just thinner there, not bald. It doesn't look bad at all, but rather adds to a good feature. She always wears it down, just like it is right now, and despises putting it up. Her are eyebrows are thin but the hairs are long. They red like her hair and even if she did start to grow a unibrow it wouldn't be noticed untill it became extremely thick. It's hard to see on her skintone.

When the thought of her skin tone comes to mind, you see how pale she is. Her face nearly looks like that of a vampire, but it's only because she doesn't like going outside. She prefers to stay indoors with Veronica and the others who are too scared to leave. Despite what most redheads look like, she has very few freckles except for a few dots along the sides of her face. It is very soft, and smooth as well. You wouldn' exactly expect it, but that's the way it is for her. Her hands are especially soft, although her feet are much rougher, and feel like those of someone who has run the distance around the Earth fourty times.

She looks up from the chair and makes eye contact with you. She is just as surprised as you, but she turns her face back towards her body and curls. You still caught her face though, and you memorized what it looked like. Her eyes were a fantastic bright blue, relfecting the light around her like the city lights of the capitol. They were shapes like almonds, but they were bigger and showed a larger sense of fright from seeing you. Her eyes were always a bit big, and now you have come to see them that way, as they stared into yours like ice cubes. She has a way of doing that without meaning to. A look at you can send chills down your spine, and if she thinks about her past they can even burn. Burn like the sun, and she doesn't mean it. She isn't bad, and she isn't cruel, they are chills of sadness. Her tears are of fear. Fear, sadness, and anger for it all.

You remember her nose bridge was very straight. It isn't that high though, but it's straight and short. It's not the most beautiful nose you'll ever see, but it's her's and she can't change it, so you don't blame her. You wonder if it's from her mother or her father. The tip of her nose is like a little ball blending into the rest of her nose, being just the tip and slightly rounded like a neverending piece of tissue that was stuffed and spred around. It is, that's how we're all physically made. So it makes sense, yes? Her lips are very light pink, and aren't thin but they aren't big either. They are around a medium size and can often be seen slightly parted. Right now they are, and she is breathing slowly into the side of the chair. You conjure up the image of her face again and remember her mouth. It was not very big, but rather small, like a child's. Her teeth were slightly yellow, but they didn't have any gaps, and looked very nice in arrangement. She wouldn't need them fixed in a million years.

The overall shape of her head is like an oval, and her jaw blends with it. The bones blend miraculously with her skin and leave it with a smooth edge. This gives her any even larger appearance of a child. She has been thought of many times as looking young, but you never wuite understand it untill you see her. Her and her appearance. For a few more seconds you think about her face, and then you look at her ears, which are seeable past her hair that is falling around her. They are small and unlike her face. You can see the little bones in there, and its as though you realized for the first time a person could even show bones somewhere on their head. But it's there, and you've seen it, and you move to her figure. Usually her hair is over her ears, and you can't see them at all.

Mercy's neck is a little bit shorter than most, but not chubby as you would think. It's skinny, like everything else on her body. The slightdip of her collarbone clearly seperates her neck from her chest, which is childlike in many ways. One example of that is that she looks rather flat-chested. She has her breasts, of course, but breasts are made of fat, and she hasn't gotten enough of that, now has she? No one looks at them anyways, so what, truly, are the chances of you noticing she's so small like that? Very slim, indeed. No pun intended. Her shoulders are very thin and boney. They look very fragile, as though they would break if someone did something as simple as touching it. Scared to touch it? Don't worry, she isn't that weak. Just make sure you don't hit it, then you'll be fine. She has weak arms, and isnt very strong. A simple shove could make her groan "ow."

Mercy's stomach is thin, and you could count her ribs easily. She's a bit scrawny, but isn't everyone who doesn't get enough food like that? Last time I checked it was. Who's checking, though? Mercy is usually hungry, unless someone brings home enough food to satisfy her she'll just lay around and rub her stomach. Mercy's arms are skinny and weak. They don't look like much muscle. They aren't. Her wrists are skinny, like her arms, and blend in perfectly with them. You can see a small bone on both, but no one really notices it.

Her waist is slight, but haven't I already mentioned most of her was like this? She has hips, of course, and they are noticable, the difference is they are just a little smaller than average. Average? What is average? Whatever it is, it isn't her. Mercy has scrawny legs. Her thighs are thin, not having muc fat to fatten themselves up. Her knees are knobbly, and not highly attractive. Her shins don't appeare to have much muscle, like her thighs, giving her a weak look. Yes, her legs aren't very strong, but she can definetly run with stamina. Her speed isn't very fast at all, but she can run for long periods of time without getting too tired and needing a rest. Well, at least we know if she ever has to run she'll be good.

She has boney feet, which don't look too pretty at all. The heels are knobby like her knees, and each toe is squeezed close to the next. She is flatfooted. Overall, Mercy is 5'2', and weighs about 112 pounds. If you shrunk her a little, she might actually pass for a child. She just looks that young. Nothing but knees and elbows, almost. Not quite, but almost.[/justify][/color][/size][/blockquote][/blockquote][/blockquote]

LITTLE JACKIE PAPER

WAS FOND OF THAT RASCAL PUFF[/center][/size][/font][/color]

Mercy's prime motivator is to satisfy other people. She wants to make them happy, content, or anything that doesn't include angry or annoyed. She hates it when people yell, or talk too loud. You'd think she has sensitive ears, but no, she actually just doesn't like loud noises. Whether they be cheering, a cart crashing, or fights, she will cover her ears and demand you keep quiet and leave her in peace. She prefers nice, quiet rooms, and her stuffed rabbit, who she named "Bunnie." PRetty cheesy name, but hey, she talks to the thing like it's real. It seems to be her best friend, and goes everywhere with her. Sometimes, if someone presses it too hard the rabbit isn't real, she'll break into tears and cry. She cries a lot, as though she were only five.

Mercy is very trusting, and extremely clingy. She will easily fall into a trick from someone she thought she could trust. It may even happen mutiple times, the same trick, over and over again. She is a little bit simple, you see. She clings to those she thinks she can trust quite a bit, and will hold fast to Veronica if frightened. She likes having friends, no matter how many or few, as long as she has someone she believes she can trust well. If not, she'll curl into her shell and stare at a wall, doing nothing at all until someone comforts her. She is very honest, and doesn't lie. Of course, that makes it hard for her to keep secrets if asked 'not to tell.' Of course, she is fully capable of shaking ehr head and saying she doesn't want to tell, but if she does decide to tell, it'll be the truth, and not a lie. It's pretty easy to get the truth from her though. Just threaten her, and she'll go right into believing you.

Mercy is very easy to manipulate. She will do anything you ask of her, as long as you have a good reason and a nice little threat to go aloing with it. You don't even have to intend to follow through will he threat, as long as you have her convinced you actually would do it. She is frightened very easily anyways. Along with that, you can tell she is pretty gullible. She'll believe pretty much whatever you tell her, and won't question it unless given a cause. Trust me, if you told her you wrote the word gullible on the ceiling, she would look up and start searching for it, even if you started laughing at her for doing it. Her confusion would leavd to her shutting up inside her shell, unless you explained the matter to her. Like a child, no?

Mercy's imagination is rather sick. She will go through periods of terrible nightmares, all caused by things she would imagine up right before bed. Terible monsters, headlss bodies, torture, and more terrible images will pop into her brain while snoozing. Sometimes, she'll wake up in tears, and won't stop crying until someonecomforts her and soothes her down. A repetetive nightmare she gets includes a headless woman grabbing her and dragging her underwater, drowning her in an underwater cavern. Sometimes the mere thought of her dad will bring her to her shell.

Mercy is very forgiving. You could cut off her hand, and she'd be angry at you for a few days. If you came to her and told her you were sorry, immediatly she would leave the matter alone and trust you again. That's how trusting she is, and it can be a true harm to her. She is extremely needy, and needs help with most things in life. She just doesn't quite understand what everyone means all the time, whether it be about her, the Games, or anything else. She is of course, very scared of the Games. Why are all those people hurting eachother? Why would anyone send them there? So many questions! Hardly any ever get answered. Mercy is a bit modest. She doesn't get many compliments or recognition, so if someone comments well on her she'll blush terribly, and hide her face. Shy, yes. Loner, not really.

She is a listener, simple as that. She prefers to hear what other people have to say rather than tell everyone everything. She believes it's much easier to do it that way than to trouble herself with telling everyone what to do and whatnot.

Mercy has a few interesting habits you ought to know about. First of all ,she doesn't sleep in a bed. Not even the bare floor, soemtiems. She tends to sleep in odd places. Under the bed, on the doormat, curled in a kitchen chair, in a cubboard, you name it. She certainly fits in most of these places. Ask her if it's uncomfortable and she'll shake her head no, then continue what she was doing. She finds it more comfrtable than a bed, so why bother with her? If she likes sleeping on a windowsill, well for goodness sakes let her. Saves bedspace. Mercy tends to repeat others. "Mercy, go answer the door" you might say. "Mercy, go answer the door," She'll repeat, and go do it. It helps her understand what you are asking in a way, and it doesn't do anyone any harm . It might get a bit annoying sometimes - but still. Come on, can't be too bad to have someone repeating everything you tell them to do. Well, maybe.

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AND BOUGHT HIM STRING AND SEALING WAX

AND ALL THAT FANCY STUFF[/center][/size][/font][/color]

Mercy's parents were Carnifex and Mortuus Allan. Carnifex – her mother – worked on a power plant most of the day, while her father stayed at home and watched her. He didn’t really like her, but her mother did, so he dealt with her. Mercy was a slow learner, and it took a while for her parents to get everything in her head. She learned to walk late, said her first word late, and didn’t really start using the toilet by herself for a bit. On her second birthday, however, she had begun walking without help, just very slowly. It was an advancement and anyone can be happy for an advancement. A step further, you could say.

On Mercy’s fifth birthday she had to go to school. Her mother was scared she wasn’t ready yet, while her dad was the one to rush her out the door all the way to the building. She was nervous, as all kindergarteners are at first. She sat at her desk that day and tried to listen to the teacher introduce herself, and explain things to her and her classmates. Eventually, she fell asleep. It wasn’t naptime. When she got home, her dad told her not to fall asleep outside of naptime and bedtime, and she nodded her head seriously and promised not to. The next day, she did.

When Mercy entered the first grade she stopped falling asleep when she wasn’t supposed to. Along with that, she made a new friend. Her friend was a grade above her, but they liked playing after school in backyards. Her name was Fawn, and they were like salt and pepper. Mercy looked up to Fawn like an idol, someone she should copy and follow. She became her little puppy, and was right behind her wherever she went. She did whatever Fawn would do, and loved talking to her. Fawn returned the love, and stayed her best friend until Mercy was in second grade. Then they grew apart from each other and Mercy had to find a new friend. Someone else she could play with, talk to, and follow around like a new born puppy. Well, she had a bit of trouble finding that new person, as everyone she tried to make friends with soon parted and never spoke to her again. It was hard for her, the making friends bit, and her mom started asking if she had made any new friends that school day.

Even though Mercy couldn’t find any new friends, that didn’t mean she couldn’t make one up. A few weeks after she was in third grade, people noticed she had started playing with something invisible. It was her imaginary friend, Sisak. Sisak, in her mind, had long shiny straight black hair, tan skin, and beautiful green eyes. She had created the person in her dream, and when she awoke, didn’t stop believing she was real. Mercy would have entire conversations with Sisak, she would play tag with her. A matter of fact, she even played hide- and – seek with her. It was quite a site to see. Well, when she turned ten, she was walking in the square when she saw someone who looked exactly like Sisak. “Sisak?” She had called, thinking her friend had finally become visible to all. No answer. Then she realized her friend had been based off someone she had probably seen while walking around one day, and the person had come into her dreams. She didn’t stop loving Sisak though, that was just the turning point of their friendship. Mercy had trouble loving her the same way after that. It didn’t seem right in her mind, to have someone based off another person.

That same year she was in her house, playing around with marbles her mother had brought home, when her dad came out of the hallway and sat on the couch. Everything seemed normal. Mortuus still disliked her, Carniifex still loved her to death, and Sisak was hanging outside the window, trying to get in, as Mercy always imagined it. Maybe if one thing had been different that morning, if her mother hadn’t decided to go outside and buy food with her money, if the door hadn’t been left closed, if Mercy hadn’t flicked the marble at the perfect time, if the one truly valuable thing in the household hadn’t been shifted to the left by her dad that morning, maybe if her dad’s temper wasn’t on edge right then, then perhaps what happened would never have happened. IF one thing could be changed, if her mother hadn’t decided to leave, she would have told Mercy to put away the marbles before someone tripped on them, if Mercy hadn’t flicked the marble up in just the right direction where her dad had happened to put that one valuable thing, if her dad didn’t happen to have a particularly bad mood at that exact second, then when the marble hit the glass cat – the valuable thing – and the glass shattered and fell, perhaps her dad wouldn’t have gotten up and begun yelling at Mercy. If the door had not been left closed, everyone would clearly see him grab a bit of glass and start towards her. It’s funny how fate decides thing, isn’t it? Maybe, if her mother hadn’t come back with the meat at just the right time, she wouldn’t have screamed. Maybe Mercy’s father wouldn’t have turned right then, and instead stabbed her in the neck with the glass. Just one thing. If one thing could be changed of that afternoon, Mercy would still have a mother.

It got darker, and her dad continued to stab her until her was certain she was dead. Mercy screamed and yelled and cried, but her threatened her. She shut her mouth and curled in a ball on a chair while her dragged her into another room and cleaned up the mess. The blood that had stained the floor. He pulled a rug over the worst of it. Mercy had been scarred, and it wouldn’t end. Why had her dad been in such a bad mood? How could one broken object set him off in such a way? A peacekeeper came to the door and knocked hard. Mortuus answered the door, but wouldn’t let the peacekeeper in. “What is going on in there?” The peacekeeper asked, shoving him out of the way. “Nothing Noth-“ he had begun, but the peacekeeper could see the uncovered trail of blood leading to the room her mother was in. He looked at Mercy then at Mortuus, then began walking in the direction. Mercy’s father started walking as well, the glass in his hand. The second the peacekeeper opened the door, her lunged at him, and Mercy covered her face with her hands. The peacekeeper had been taken by surprised, but managed to throw Mortuus off of himself. He had seen the body of Mercy’s mother though, and was able to jump out of the house and run to get help. They never saw that peacekeeper again, but the murder was not passed. More peacekeepers came and took Mercy’s dad. They made him an Avox. What happened to Mercy though? After all had passed on that day, she was taken to her aunt Jane’s house.

Jane didn’t see Mercy as she had been before her mother’s murder. She had witnessed it. Now Mercy was just a simple, scared, childish little girl who did nothing but sit in chairs and stare at walls. By the time she was twelve, she could barely make it to the Reaping any more. Her cousin Alice was in her last Reaping, so the difference was large for them when they walked up. Mercy dragged her feet all the way to her section, then waited for the named to be called. Not her or Alice, or any people from her school. Same for thirteen, fourteen too.

Her aunt Jane found it annoying how Mercy couldn’t do anything. She had to home school her to make it easier. Of course, it was difficult to get Mercy to do most anything. It seemed like the trauma of seeing her father murder her mother had made her forget most of what she had learned in the past. Thus, by the time she was sixteen, Aunt Jane was looking for someone else to take care of her. She did not want to send her “little” niece to the community home.

Well it chanced upon someone at her work told her about a crazy woman who was surrounding herself with mad people. Almost immediately Jane rushed home and started tugging Mercy out of her chair, and out the door. The entire time Mercy was half awake, and didn’t exactly know what was going on. She walked with her for a while, trying to find the house Jane’s co worker had told her about. Then they found a little house, and were able to distinguish it as the Faerxel’s house. Jane dropped Mercy’s hand and darter away. Eventually, the “crazy woman” Veronica found her standing around outside and took her in. She’s lived there for the past two years.

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I got the oDair