kieran amery ; district one ; fin

a p p e a r a n c e » pretty pretty pretty boy

I'm pretty, I think.
I'm not trying to be conceited. I don't even really think I am. I've just heard it enough that I guess it's true.
I don't like seeing myself. It makes me feel really upset and sick. That's part of the reason I painted over all the mirrors in the house. That might've not been the best thing, but I would so much rather see a demon than my own face when I'm walking down the hall. I don't see the appeal in vanity. I mean, if you like yourself, that's great. That's actually really wonderful. It's not that I don't like the way I look, I mean, I look the way I want to. I just don't like looking at myself.
And going back to a minute ago- I'm not handsome or whatever you call it in any way. I'm not saying I'm unattractive, I'm just. Pretty. Not to participate in upholding the gender binary, but. Like a girl.

Here's my wardrobe: I like black, I like t-shirts, I like my leather jacket. I wear things until they fall apart. I'm serious here. Most of my things I've had for almost ten years now. I don't see the point in spending money on clothes all the time.
Sometimes I do get new things, though. I like getting skirts. And dresses, sometimes. Maybe that's another reason people think I'm weird. There's nothing wrong with dressing in conventionally female clothing. It's not a sexual thing or anything either. I just like the way it feels. I think I look good, too, honestly. Not to brag.

My hair is dark. It's kind of brownish, but I dye it black. Sometimes I don't bother with proper dye and I just use my excess paint. It doesn't go very well.
My eyes are green-brown. They're pretty boring, I think. When I draw myself I usually make them red. That's just so much more interesting, don't you think?
I'm also pretty pale. Always have been. That's one reason I'm glad I don't go outside much- I burn, like, really badly. It's a pain.

In summary: I don't like my face but I don't really care about changing it.

p e r s o n a l i t y » dance on you fabulous animal

I'm not a bad person. And I'm not a freak, no matter what people might have said. I know they say I'm a weirdo and all that. I just like being alone.
I mean, I don't hate people. I'm not a sociopath or anything, promise. People are actually pretty great. I like people. I just don't like being around them.
I have some friends, too! Mostly they just come by and tell me they're "just checking in" to "make sure I'm okay." I'm fine, of course!
And sometimes, people hire me to paint things for them. That's usually more interaction than I like, but I like making people happy, and everyone should get art. So I do the jobs.
I paint for myself, too. That's how I spend most of my time. The walls of my house are all covered by now- I've just sort of layered the paint over the years, so you can't even really tell what's there. I think my bedroom is a vampire forest, now? And my kitchen has a kind of smoke-and-fire theme going. Maybe that wasn't my best idea.
I get my paint from a dealer that I ran into one time. I think it's not technically legal, and I try to keep to the law but it's really good paint. So I kind of let it slide. Sometimes I try to stick to only using the Capitol-sanctioned paint, but it's all thin and the colors aren't nearly as bright- and like I said, good paint is the only thing able to get me to do anything remotely illegal. I promise! I know the kids say I'm a witch, but I'm a law-abiding citizen, I swear!

Moving on.
I spend most of my time in my apartment. I don't leave it much, and when I do, it's only out of utmost necessity. I think one of the reasons there are so many rumors is that I painted over all my windows. I'm not hiding anything. I just ran out of wall space. That was before I started on the second layer.
Basically all day I just paint and smoke. I drink sometimes, too, but it's not blackout drinking like some of the teenagers, and I don't get crazy drunk like so many of the parents. I just get a bottle of vodka and cry under a table, mostly. That's about it.
Once my younger brother made me go to a party. It didn't end well, mostly cause I just drank all the liquor and sat in the corner. Everyone stared at me kind of weirdly. He hasn't tried to make me do it again since.

I love my brother, but he's kind of stopped acknowledging me in public. I think it's because everyone could have started just thinking of him as "that weird recluse's brother". I don't blame him for it. I don't care much what they think of me, but I don't want my reputation to ruin his life.

Oh, and here's another reason everyone kind of hates me: I'm gay. Like, not even a little bit straight. I've always known, so has my whole family. I never really thought it was a big deal until I was in my mid-teens. What's the big deal if I like kissing guys? Seriously.
I haven't had many boyfriends for obvious antisocial reasons. I have dated a couple guys, but it's never been a big deal, and we always broke up pretty fast. I don't really mind. I've never really cared about having a relationship- I mean, it would be nice, sure. I'm just not going to pine desperately.

Basically: I like painting, smoking, drinking, and guys. That's just about everything you need to know about me. I'm not that complicated, honestly. I just live a simple life of painting and all of that.

we waste it all in the back of a long dark car
and I'm a sunshine machine
I want to get stuck
and be golden in your memory

h i s t o r y » how did you get this way?

First of all, I think I know what you're gonna ask. It's okay, most people do. Well, they ask a lot of things, but this is one of them.
Ahem.
I live alone, you're thinking. I have enough money for everything I need and buckets of black-market paint, even though I never leave the house. Which is pretty big for a single person.
Here's what happened to my parents:
They were both peacekeepers, see. I never really saw them much growing up. My grandmother raised me, mostly, well, and my little brother. From what I know they were kind of high-up in the power? Nowhere near President Snow, of course. That's ridiculous. But they both were, you know, just pretty well-known. And then about five years ago or so my grandmother died. I took it pretty hard. I don't think you want to know.
And I lived alone after that, right? I was only about eighteen, but I guess I was considered old enough to be alone. So I kind of maybe isolated myself.

My brother came by, too. He moved out a while back to live with a friend or his girlfriend or something. He's always been the independent one.
And then, just a couple years ago, my parents were killed. I don't know what exactly happened. Apparently it was classified or something. But I got a pretty big thing of, like, consolance money. That's mostly what I live off- and like I mentioned, I sell a painting every now and then. All I really need is paint, food and cigarettes, and occasionally clothes [even though I wear them til they start rotting]- so I have enough to get by. I should probably spend less on paint. Nah.

I haven't ever been really big on the past, if that makes sense? I've had my share of depression and all that. I just don't understand when people spend all their time thinking about the past. I spend a lot of time thinking, but the past is the last thing on my mind- but when it is, I'm not thinking about people dying and sad times, I'm thinking about good things. I don't know why that's so hard.

codeword:


comments/other: first rp in a long time. i'm sorry. that is all i can say.
lyrics; "Give Em Hell, Kid"- My Chemical Romance; "Spaceman"-The Killers; ""W.A.M.S."- Fall Out Boy
fc; gerard way

narrating [D16C00]
thinking [BECC95]
talking [78011F]
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