Florence Prior · District 4 · (WIP)

Florence Prior · District 4 · (WIP) Jan 8, 2013 18:44:57 GMT -5

Post by Zoxoe on Jan 8, 2013 18:44:57 GMT -5

name // atlalune florence prior
age // sixteen
sex // female
home // district four

A P P E A R A N C E //

She has always looked like her mother, with long blonde curly hair, which frizzes when it feels like it and causes all the drama. It’s the kind of hair everybody compliments but wishes to never have hair like that. You just feel the need to run your fingers through it and comb it, or try to tame the wild locks. It’s the color of the sand, in the middle of a warm spring afternoon, that looks like somebody had the job to paint every single ringlet a different shade of pale yellow. It never looks good on a ponytail; it just looks like the tail of a stray dog with curly hair.

Her eyes are her father’s, that strange shade of brown that changes color depending on what clothes you’re wearing. They’re big and shinny, deep and meaningful. Just a small glimpse of them and you’re hypnotized by their chocolate brightness. They’re framed by long light brown eyelashes, which reach just below her thin blonde eyebrows.

Next comes her wide nose that flares out every time she’s pissed by one of her younger siblings. Chubby cheeks with smile lines marked from all the times that contagious smile ever passed her bright face; full lips, which tend to crack easily because of the heat and the weather.

A short neck connects her head to her wide torso, not being slim, but not on the chubby side either. Her arms are long and her hands are small, but have long fingers, because with those she plays her ukulele. Her legs are short, giving her a short height of 5’4, but weighing 120 pounds.

[/blockquote]

Help, I have done it again
I have been here many times before
Hurt myself again today
And the worst part is there's no one else to blame

P E R S O N A L I T Y //

H I S T O R Y //

The waves crashed against the shore, the smell of salt water and the humid atmosphere clung to the wooden walls of a small worn out cabin. There was smoke coming from the kitchen, and the thick flames tickled the ceiling, slowly eating their way across the house. There had been a fire.

Later that evening, the complete and ‘Capitol approved’ story of what happened was published. Only a man and a woman had died in the fire, both in their middle thirties. It had started simple because they forgot to turn off their stove. Everyone knew this was pure bullshit, and the Capitol just didn’t feel the need to tell the whole truth, in order not to scare the citizens or make them cause a scene.

It was written down the article that the man and the woman where married, and where parents of a girl and two little twin boys, or so the Capitol said, the children where to be sent to live with their closest relatives, their grandparents. No more news where heard of the strange fire that lit up the evening in flames and took with them a loved mother and a missed father.