Hollis Vandel // [ District Three ]

Name: Hollis Chauncey Vandel
Age: 17
Gender: Male
District/Area: District 3
Appearance:

There is a softness to Hollis that makes him look forlorn, ethereal, other wordly. It's hard to pinpoint if you dissect his features, but all together, he is elfin. Delicate. Elegant. Perhaps it is his baby smooth skin, sun kissed in the summer and pale as the snow in the winter. Perhaps it is his eyes, pale blue like the calm ocean, or his dark lashes and heavy, unkempt brows. Perhaps it is the way he styles his hair, slicked back to expose his forehead. But this is where the softness gives way to something else.

His lips are full and chapped, perpetually, inevitably. His hexagonal face is prematurely cut, sharp when it should be smooth. His ears pinch at the top, jut out farther than he would like. And everywhere else he is skin and bones, unable to retain muscle. Hollis has often wondered if this is because of his "condition" or simply another genetic flaw. Whatever the reason, all of Hollis' parts don't quite come together the way he wants, and he spends hours in the mirror each weekend, critiquing his flaws, willing his body to be something it is not.

Personality:

Hollis is defined by two major traits: his lung condition and his skill with a paint brush. His lung condition, which has been likened to an advanced form of asthma, requires him to sleep with an oxygen tank, and restricts him from participating in sports or any strenuous activity. He is able to go to school and walk from class to class, but by the end of the school day, he is exhausted, no matter how much caffeine he has consumed. Many people know him as the wheezer, the mouth breather. This is a source of embarrassment for Hollis, who has learned that in order to divert attention, it's best to be as quiet as possible, even when he knows the right answer, even when he knows he ought to intervene.

The latter characteristic is a source of pride. Hollis has always enjoyed art and the brief lessons in class. It wasn't until he was a teenager, however, that he discovered oil paints. Now, all of his allowance goes to brushes, canvas and paint, and he has made his bedroom into his studio, with white sheets pinned over the walls and easels in every corner. He paints mostly portraits, of his classmates, his teachers. Years ago he would paint portraits of his family, but since his father refused to shelter Drace and Damea, he has stopped painting his family. His mother encourages his art nevertheless, and she is the only one with whom he shares his paintings.

Hollis does reasonably well at school, finding it both easy and boring. He will never be the star student in the class, but most teachers find him likable. They, at least, seem to mind his heavy breathing less than his peers. He had crushed on the usual suspects in school, but never once had enough courage to ask a girl out. He spends his days observing and cataloging, dissecting the faces of his fellow students to paint them by night. It is a lonely existence, but Hollis doesn't know how to live any other way.

History:

Mason Vandel led a reasonably charmed life. As the third of the Vandel quartet, he had enough bullies and allies on either side of the sibling order to make it through the perils of youth. And while the Vandels weren't as well known as the Shores or Dempseys, in District Three they had a good life. The Vandel name came with enough cache to open doors, and enough money to see that Mason had a top notch education.

It was the day before his 19th birthday, at a Games viewing that he met his future wife, Lucy. She was two years older than him, in the same manufacturing management program. She helped him cram for his late night tests, and passed him coffee when they toured the factory floor. Of course, they weren't on the floor for long. Both progressed to manage different departments, with Mason receiving his promotion a month prior to their wedding.

And then came the lull. What should have been another easy step in an easy life turned out to be difficult. Quite frankly, Mason would later say, it was a nightmare. They tried for two years on their own unsuccessfully before they turned to the technology they had both been promoted to oversee. And it worked. Eventually. Lucy spent almost the entirety of her pregnancy sequestered, and as a result, lost her job.

But as she says, Hollis is the happy result of much trial and error.

Despite the time it took to become pregnant, Hollis was born smack dab in the middle of his cousins. While Lucy and Mason were never again successful, he found that he had surrogate siblings in spades. With Lucy unemployed, Hollis spent most of his toddler days walking circles around her, and sitting on the couch while his cousins ran amuck. It wasn't until much later, when he started school, that his condition was diagnosed. Those early days are rose colored for him, a time when everything was gentler and though the disease lurked, it did not limit his lifestyle.

School and therapy went hand-in-hand for a number of years for young Hollis. He would do his homework in the wee hours of the morning, attend classes, and then go straight from school to the local hospital, where they would strap a mask to his face, pump oxygen into his lungs, and then make him run on a treadmill. After exhaustive tests, the diagnosis was still inconclusive. With a concoction of medicine, Hollis was allowed to continue to attend school, but forbidden from any strenuous exercise.

It took him until his teenage years to realize why this was akin to a death sentence. While his friends kicked a ball around and chased skirts, he sat inside, watching them through the glass. When he wasn't being beaten up and shoved into a locker, he was at home, with his despondent, unfulfilled mother and stymied, ambitious father. For a long time he found solace in the silence, the antipathy that haunted their grey, elegant home.

But that illusion of safety shattered the night his father turned away his cousins. It was a rare, beautiful evening, warm enough that Hollis risked taking a walk around the neighborhood. Something about the humidity eased the ache in his lungs. By the time he returned home it was twilight, with the few trees scattered around the district blackened against the teal sky. Hollis can still see the branches reaching upward, grasping at something unattainable.

The door was wide open, the argument drifting into the street. It wasn't until later that Hollis realized Drace and Damea had been disowned not only by their own parents, but by his as well. At first, he thought that his father was simply refusing to let them sleepover. He just shrugged as Damea shuffled by, and couldn't understand it when Drace, his favorite cousin, his surrogate brother, refused to meet his gaze. It was a Friday and by the time Hollis found Drace at school the following Monday, the damage was done. A rift had opened up between them. When Drace ran away, Hollis wheezed after him, collapsing in the bushes just outside of school. It took him ten minutes to get his breathing under control, and it was ten minutes too long.

Hollis cannot find it in himself to forgive or understand his father for taking away his best friends, his cousins, his family. They had plenty to go around, but Mason said their family was special, their little trio didn't need any ingrates hanging on. And then Drace was reaped, and Hollis once again stood on the sidelines, forced to watch as the horror unfolded.

Now, the ache in his lungs has spread to the entirety of his chest. He cannot breathe well, cannot get his heart to beat steadily. He cannot forgive himself for not trying harder, sooner.

Codeword: Odair
Comments/Other:

Permission from Dars to join the family plot <3