Kella Dolan--District 5 [Finished]
Sept 20, 2014 0:56:23 GMT -5
Post by emilyiscorney on Sept 20, 2014 0:56:23 GMT -5
Name: Kella Dolan
Age: Fifteen years old
Gender: Female
District: Five
Appearance
My mother always likes to say my hair reminds her of the sunlight of early morning. She'll stand there in our kitchen, a small smile hidden behind her hand and nod to herself.
My father, however, doesn't compare it to the sunlight that penetrates our curtains. He says it's simply the fluffy halo around his angel. He usually says that over a cup of coffee with a wink only for me. I generally sigh and get back to my breakfast, a blush turning my pale cheeks a rosey color.
I, personally, think it's closer to an unruly cloud surrounding my heart-shaped face. In the summer months, I have to force myself to not take my knife blade to it, slicing it into choppy ribbons. The one summer I gave into that, I came out of my bathroom looking like one of our Capitol dogs, after we had to shave off all of their matted fur.
In a word, it was horrendous.
But let's move on from my hair.
The next notable thing about my appearance...My eyes maybe? Isn't that what girls usually comment on? Well, I think they're nice enough. They're not too dark, but they aren't that romantic toffee color that people seem to love. They remind me of the bark on the trees that surround my home. They have more of a rustic coloring to them, I guess.
Back when I was small, and the girls at school were starting to realize that some of them were genuinely beautiful, I stood in the mirror and puzzled over what I looked like. I was nose to glass, ticking off an imaginary checklist.
My hair? Buttery and golden. Curled like a pug's tail.
My eyes? Big...Brown.
My eyebrows? On the thin side. Good placement though.
My nose? Nicer than most. (Thanks, nose.)
My lips? Very full. Lovely color.
My skin? Paler than it should be. Tans never stick.
My arms? Slightly defined. Messing with dogs does that.
My legs? Spindly but strong enough.
My everything? Works well enough.
In conclusion, I was simply myself.
Personality
I like to believe I think through all my decisions, but I know I'm quite impulsive. With the dogs? Yeah, I'm quite calm with them. I keep my head on pretty well with them. With myself? I practically leave my head behind. If my hair's hot, I cut it. If I see a pimple starting to form in the middle of my forehead, I exterminate it. If I want to read up in a tree at sunrise, I pack up a bag and leave home without leaving a note.
My mother has talked to me about the last one. I'm currently working on that kind of thing.
Let's see...
At school, I'm the girl that tries to talk with the people around her. In the end, it usually ends up being me talking to myself, as other people begin to talk over me and then only amongst themselves. You'd think that after a few years of that I would learn to just keep to myself, but I like hearing what other people have to say. So, really, I'm not antisocial by choice. It's more of a choice that's been made for me, but, as the years go by, it fits me more and more. By now, I don't even talk during class; I simply doodle in the margins of my notebook.
Typically I spend my time with my family or alone, reading books. I escape through my books. I escape away from The Games and the thought that my name is on a slip of paper, circulating around out there. Instead, I concentrate on the old books my family has passed down from generation to generation. I immerse myself in the universes that have happy endings and love stories and magical plots. All the things I wish my life was but will never be.
History
Kella has lived a unremarkable, happy life, which--in itself--is remarkable.
Her parents sheltered her away from the life that they knew. Inside their home, Kella never saw evidence of The Games. She only took notice of their existence whenever she was herded over to watch the Tributes being plucked from their homes. For whatever reason, Kella never knew what was happening. And, for reasons unbeknownst to her, her parents never explained.
Then she began school.
After learning about The Games, her parents let her in on their trade: raising dogs to sell to the Capitol. But, not only that, they started her on their side business.
Raising dogs to give to the Tribute's families.
So far, they'd only given out a few--preferring to find the kindest, sweetest dogs. It was a small operation, but it made her family content. It gave them something to do with their resources; a way to give back. These dogs weren't the adorable, sought-after puppies that the Capitol crooned over. These dogs were of the working breed of dogs. They were the kind that could walk all over the District with their owners and not get winded. Also, Kella's family didn't dye their hair, like they did to some of the special order dogs. These dogs were raised to be loving companions and that's exactly what they were.
Kella taught the dogs commands, and they followed her about the property wherever she went. Whenever she went up her tree to read, the dogs lounged around the trunk of the tree, sleeping. When she went to school, she had to shoo them back. (She couldn't deny how bittersweet it felt to see them wagging their tails, sitting there until she came home.)
Other than the occasional heartbreak (falling in love so easy is not a trait well suited for a girl living in the Districts), her life consisted of only school and her family.
(Code: oDair)
(Face Claim: Carrie Hope Fletcher)
Age: Fifteen years old
Gender: Female
District: Five
Appearance
My mother always likes to say my hair reminds her of the sunlight of early morning. She'll stand there in our kitchen, a small smile hidden behind her hand and nod to herself.
My father, however, doesn't compare it to the sunlight that penetrates our curtains. He says it's simply the fluffy halo around his angel. He usually says that over a cup of coffee with a wink only for me. I generally sigh and get back to my breakfast, a blush turning my pale cheeks a rosey color.
I, personally, think it's closer to an unruly cloud surrounding my heart-shaped face. In the summer months, I have to force myself to not take my knife blade to it, slicing it into choppy ribbons. The one summer I gave into that, I came out of my bathroom looking like one of our Capitol dogs, after we had to shave off all of their matted fur.
In a word, it was horrendous.
But let's move on from my hair.
The next notable thing about my appearance...My eyes maybe? Isn't that what girls usually comment on? Well, I think they're nice enough. They're not too dark, but they aren't that romantic toffee color that people seem to love. They remind me of the bark on the trees that surround my home. They have more of a rustic coloring to them, I guess.
Back when I was small, and the girls at school were starting to realize that some of them were genuinely beautiful, I stood in the mirror and puzzled over what I looked like. I was nose to glass, ticking off an imaginary checklist.
My hair? Buttery and golden. Curled like a pug's tail.
My eyes? Big...Brown.
My eyebrows? On the thin side. Good placement though.
My nose? Nicer than most. (Thanks, nose.)
My lips? Very full. Lovely color.
My skin? Paler than it should be. Tans never stick.
My arms? Slightly defined. Messing with dogs does that.
My legs? Spindly but strong enough.
My everything? Works well enough.
In conclusion, I was simply myself.
Personality
I like to believe I think through all my decisions, but I know I'm quite impulsive. With the dogs? Yeah, I'm quite calm with them. I keep my head on pretty well with them. With myself? I practically leave my head behind. If my hair's hot, I cut it. If I see a pimple starting to form in the middle of my forehead, I exterminate it. If I want to read up in a tree at sunrise, I pack up a bag and leave home without leaving a note.
My mother has talked to me about the last one. I'm currently working on that kind of thing.
Let's see...
At school, I'm the girl that tries to talk with the people around her. In the end, it usually ends up being me talking to myself, as other people begin to talk over me and then only amongst themselves. You'd think that after a few years of that I would learn to just keep to myself, but I like hearing what other people have to say. So, really, I'm not antisocial by choice. It's more of a choice that's been made for me, but, as the years go by, it fits me more and more. By now, I don't even talk during class; I simply doodle in the margins of my notebook.
Typically I spend my time with my family or alone, reading books. I escape through my books. I escape away from The Games and the thought that my name is on a slip of paper, circulating around out there. Instead, I concentrate on the old books my family has passed down from generation to generation. I immerse myself in the universes that have happy endings and love stories and magical plots. All the things I wish my life was but will never be.
History
Kella has lived a unremarkable, happy life, which--in itself--is remarkable.
Her parents sheltered her away from the life that they knew. Inside their home, Kella never saw evidence of The Games. She only took notice of their existence whenever she was herded over to watch the Tributes being plucked from their homes. For whatever reason, Kella never knew what was happening. And, for reasons unbeknownst to her, her parents never explained.
Then she began school.
After learning about The Games, her parents let her in on their trade: raising dogs to sell to the Capitol. But, not only that, they started her on their side business.
Raising dogs to give to the Tribute's families.
So far, they'd only given out a few--preferring to find the kindest, sweetest dogs. It was a small operation, but it made her family content. It gave them something to do with their resources; a way to give back. These dogs weren't the adorable, sought-after puppies that the Capitol crooned over. These dogs were of the working breed of dogs. They were the kind that could walk all over the District with their owners and not get winded. Also, Kella's family didn't dye their hair, like they did to some of the special order dogs. These dogs were raised to be loving companions and that's exactly what they were.
Kella taught the dogs commands, and they followed her about the property wherever she went. Whenever she went up her tree to read, the dogs lounged around the trunk of the tree, sleeping. When she went to school, she had to shoo them back. (She couldn't deny how bittersweet it felt to see them wagging their tails, sitting there until she came home.)
Other than the occasional heartbreak (falling in love so easy is not a trait well suited for a girl living in the Districts), her life consisted of only school and her family.
(Code: oDair)
(Face Claim: Carrie Hope Fletcher)
