Clark Matthews, District 1

Clark leans toward being tall, five foot, eleven inches, he's muscular, not bulky, but lithe, which can often mislead someone to underestimate his raw strength. With short black hair, hazel eyes, a lightly tanned skin color and an often charming smile, he could be a poster child for the good it does for people to be raised in district one. His hair, as described above, is short, though at a length where it can messy if he leaves it alone, which he often does, caring little for what his hair looks like. He prefers dressing simply if he can help it, usually in a t-shirt and jeans with some kind of boots. He prefers darker colors, blacks, dark blues, and greys.

His body structure matches that of many other prospective tributes, or victors from district one, tense and built. His shoulders are often set, as well as his jaw, locked in a position that exposes his confidence and pride. He tends to have a serious or indifferent expression on his face, or a wicked, twisted smirk or grin. When he looks at people, he's also scrutinizing their form, from how they talk to how they move. His own movements tend to be longer, more calculated, and he doesn't fidget when he's idle. If he does anything at all when he's not busy, it's think, and it's typically easy to tell if he's actually listening or not because he doesn't focus on the speaker, but rather stares through them into the space beyond.

He has no noticeable physical abnormalities, though under his shirt, there are scars from his illegal training, many, most of them earned by refusing to back down after being wounded once. If a person were to see him without a shirt on, or pants, the pink scars cut swaths across his legs, back, and chest, though ugly, he still bears them with a sense of pride, no pain, no gain.

Well, for starters, the façade he wears: Clark tends to display a happy guy, smiling, flirting, and joking like normal guys his age. He shows a relaxed side, maybe even giving himself the tiniest hint of a slouch to make himself look more human. He's out-going, and clever, often making up for his C-average with cutting remarks that aim more at character than fact. He tends to make a habit of arousing anger when he does that, ignoring factual information to strike at emotional or moral issues of the other person. Pathos and Ethos and Logos, he prefers the first two, as people do more in passionate circumstances. Just this small flaw in his friendly illusion is the tip of his aggressive ice berg.

For underneath all the friendly acting, he actually has little care for anyone. His parents, maybe, but they are really just caretakers who are keeping his body fit for battle, which, if all goes well, will be the next Hunger Games. He is sadistic and cruel, always measuring the people he talks to to discover their weaknesses. His scrutinizing is not innocent, nor is it curiosity, it's him finding a way to make your movements your own enemy. Introverts are people he tends to have the most fun with, and he can often come up with easy ways to make them uncomfortable. But he still enjoys the challenge of out-going people, trying to find out what makes them tick.

He has a tendency to always think about the games, he wants to be part of them, it's his final year for the opportunity, and if he isn't chosen, he'll volunteer. He feels ready, more than ready, and has grown more anxious with each passing year. He's watched the arenas, and has even tried to find a pattern, like how often a cold, snowy place pops up and so on. His desire to be part of the games is borderline obsessive, though that's easily blamed on years of waiting for his name to be drawn.

District One, home of the rich and privileged outside the Capitol. The jewelry makers, and the people who pay to put their children through training at a young age, readying them to become proud victors for their District, and to kill without hesitation. While all of this and more are taught, some people embrace it, are born to be Tributes through and through. Clark would never give too much credit to his teachers, that would be foolish. Even when he was young, he liked to talk about how much of a natural he was at swordsmanship and survival training. His parents were the main reason he was able to train at all, but he had always seen them as providers, holding respect for them, but no love, and while he was out-going in daily life, he was withdrawn at home. In school, he typically wasn't the most serious person, just drifting through his classes, doing what it took to keep himself from failing, but otherwise not trying very hard.

It was in his private sessions that his potential truly showed, he was quick to grasp new concepts and implement them in his training, even learning a few cheap tricks of his own without instruction, his favorite being to throw dirt into people's faces, blinding them so his next strike could be swift and decisive. He was often reckless at a young age, being too hot-headed, after several humbling defeats, and countless slashes across his body, he learned not to let his emotions influence how he fought. Instead, he let his emotions burn as fuel, as fury built, he didn't grow reckless, but his strikes grew more powerful, coming down harder, denting steel, and bruising bodies. What made him a prodigy was his strategy, he had a tendency to think ahead, always critical of his current situation. It was not drilled into him, though the trainers helped him hone his thought process, making it sharper.

And it's been like that for years, though school, and always watching the Games and wishing he was there, but never feeling prepared to participate. The 66th Games would be his, his year. And it had been a long awaited opportunity, being chosen would be a greater honor, but he'd steal someone else's opportunity if he had to, and then he'd enjoy his time fighting with the intentions of taking home the title of Victor. He often planned for ways to impress the Gamemakers, he'd muse on something that they'd never seen before. His parents are happy to see his ambitions coming to fruition, and are hoping nearly as much as he to see their son come home as a symbol of their district's superiority, and a Victor that future Tributes can strive to surpass.

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