Knauer Crewe Capitol [done]
Feb 9, 2015 0:31:15 GMT -5
Post by Noah Vau - D2 (Cato) on Feb 9, 2015 0:31:15 GMT -5
Name: Knauer Crewe
Location: Capitol
Age: 28
Profession: New trainer for the hunger games|hand to hand trainer
FC: Colby "Seth Rollins" Lopez
Permission was given by Aya to create this bio
Appearance:
Height has always been on my side as I stand six foot one inch tall. I love being able to tower over people as it makes me feel powerful. Along side my tall body comes my ripped body. Ripped muscles from working out and training people throughout my career. Last time I checked, I weighed two hundred seventeen pounds. Most of my body weight is from my muscles Making the tributes powerful for the games. Making them feel stronger, but along with my muscles, I can sneak. I've always been able to sneak around. Mother said it got me into a lot of trouble because at night when I was growing up, she'd lock the door, and I crawl out through the window. Many times I'd break glass causing various scars to form across my body. They make me look amazing and powerful. I pray that people fear me when they walk towards my station at the training center.
One thing that most people might notice is my long hair curly black hair. It's two different colors. One part blonde, and the rest is black. Say something about it. I dare you. The blonde sticks out a lot especially since the natural color is black which happens to be the color of my facial hair. My beard, my mustache. Everything. My beard is shaggy. I want it to grow large. My eyes are narrow and brown. They're always slanted inwards with my eyebrows sticking up as I try to show people that I'm angry. That I'm not one to mess with because in the end messing with someone of my stature can only cause problems. My skin is pale, and I could dye it another color, if I wanted, but I don't want to because this is natural. My nose is large especially closer towards my lips, and the tip forms a point. It looks like my nostrils are flared. My lips are tiny and pink, but they're hidden beneath my mustache and my beard making them look smaller than they truly are.
I have symbols tattooed along my spine. Nothing in particular as they hold no meaning to anyone else in the nation, but to me it means a lot. I know what they mean. Values back in my district. In my eyes it's perfect. Now that you know all the good things about how I look, let me tell you something I hate. It's hard for me to run or do any strenuous activities. I can't catch my breath, and sometimes it feels like my chest muscles are so tight I can't breath or do anything. It sets me back from my goals because when it happens I have to take it easy for a few days. I try not to let it bother me, and some days are better than others. I just wish that I knew what caused it so I could fix it. It's scary to feel my chest muscles so tight I can barely breathe, and it stands in the way of achieving ultimate power. I could be pushing myself too hard. That might even be it. Thing is I don't know and I am afraid to find out.
Personality:
Power. Growing up that's all I wanted. Anyone stepping in my way of being in charge met the wrath of my fist. I fought them because a challenge was meant to be answered. I hurt people. Wrecked their futures because I wanted to control everyone. Controlling the world. The nation of Panem. I've never been good at following people and taking orders from them because I want much more. I have my friends, and I hang with them, but they won't ever become as powerful as I will. Sometimes I'll use my words getting people to bend to my will. Manipulating them into doing things that most people wouldn't. Because I want to rule the world. My friends. They think I hold them close, and I do hold them close, but the moment they start weighing me down and steering me from the direction of power, I'll turn against them. Betrayal isn't something most would expect, but I'm not afraid to shatter the trust of the people around me.
I'm loyal to the Capitol, and I respect president snow, but deep inside I'm jealous of him. People always doing what he says. They're always afraid of him because he holds the highest position. I respect him for that position, but one day it will be mine. I keep these thoughts to myself of course. If anyone especially Snow found out, I would be killed in a heartbeat. Dangerous thoughts for an even more dangerous goal. Becoming President. It would bring great joy into my life controlling the games that brings the districts together as punishment for their crimes. I love watching people battle to the death because families mourn and cry. I may be seen as heartless, but I have a heart. I know that life matters on the outside - I just choose to express myself differently. Especially to my friends. In my mind I have no true friends. None that I will hold close to me long enough because they all push me away. They all take away my will to move forward. To show the world that I'm willing to help those who want power. Those tributes in the hunger games. Those who want to learn because with power comes learning. It makes people change, and I love watching them fall as they change everything around them.
I wasn't always like this. Wasn't always power hungry. Perfection. That's what my mother expected no... demanded of me as a child all the way up until I left the household to become a peacekeeper. Of course being born in district two, I had been viewed as just another piece in my mother's quest for stardom. Always wanting to become some big name. That's why she pushed me. And pushed me. How does one grow up without breaking from pressure? Everything I did wasn't good enough for mother. Nothing. I could come home with good grades. It wouldn't matter. I could come home with amazing training scores. It wouldn't matter. Nothing I ever did would please her. There's always something I could do to improve. That's what she kept telling me. That's why I left. To get away from unreal expectations.
For a while being a peacekeeper gave me a sense of duty. The work we as peacekeepers do is something I want to do. My decision. No one else's. For a while there had been no problems with anything. After a while, I noticed some of my other co-workers being praised for their work. Someone will pass right by me and tell the person next to me good job. Me? I'd be ignored. So I began to find ways to wreck people's careers. Make it appear like I was the golden boy. I had to be sneaky of course. Couldn't sabotage in front of everyone. Slowly but surely, I worked my way up the ranks. I may have sacrificed friendships, but the things I did? I command respect. I also demand it. So long as my life is set then the things I do or lives I ruin don't matter. It's all about me.
Shortly after the sixty-ninth tributes were sent into the arena, an opening for the hand to hand trainer came up. I immediately volunteered. Wasn't the most qualified of course. Several others had more credentials to their name. In the end it didn't matter. I did what I always did before. Wreck people's chances. Point being is it didn't matter what I did to get the job. Its the fact I got it. I showed the desire for said job. I've come so far from my childhood days. This is where I want to be. A trainer for tributes going into the games is one small step to becoming president of Panem. I still have a long ways to go, but by getting this job, I am one step closer. I'll do what I can no matter what it takes to rise to the top. Its what I am destined for.
History:
Growing up was rough. Living with strict parents and all. Mother wanted me to be perfect. She never wanted me to fail at anything, and when I made a mistake, she pushed me away. She told me I wouldn't ever amount to anything, and for a while I took it to heart. I would sulk away in my room hiding from everyone around me because I was ashamed to show my face. Ashamed to show the world that I wasn't perfect. That I wasn't the perfect child. It was horrible living around trying my best to please everyone without making a mistake, but I'm only human, and I will make mistakes. Yet I wanted to prove that I'm powerful. That I'm a higher being. That I won't make mistakes because I'm the most powerful person alive. I started fighting anyone who stepped in my way. Anyone who told me I wasn't going to amount to anything. It was that moment I set out on my mission for power. To become the perfect son.
I got into street fights a lot growing up. It usually started when someone asked me if I was the perfect child my mother wanted me to be. It wasn't a lot, but it was enough to make me angry. For the longest time, I pushed them away. I tried to pretend like nothing was bothering me. I tried to show them that I didn't care what my mother thought, yet in all reality it hurt me to the core. Each time the words perfect child fell upon my ears, my heart shattered into millions of pieces because I knew deep inside it was impossible to be perfect. Maybe that's why my mother wanted me to strive for perfection. Maybe she wanted me to become the first perfect being. When I got angry, I started punching things. At first, I punched walls, and garbage cans, or anything else because I didn't want to hurt another being, but it wasn't enough. Many times I fought with the kids next door. Sometimes I would win, but other times I would head home with a black eye, or a broken nose, or a bloody mouth. Something to show my mother what happened to her perfect child.
The games always interested me. Ever since I was young, I wanted to be apart of them. I wanted to fight my way through them. Growing up in district two and all, I wanted to show that I was the most powerful career alive, yet it seems there was a different plan for me. My name was never called, and the moment I was about to volunteer someone else stood up. It disgusted me knowing that I wasn't fast enough. Knowing that I wasn't capable of bringing the honor back towards the district. It didn't stop me though. The moment I was old enough, I entered the peacekeeper academy. I studied as hard as I could. I did everything that I was told, and I trained hard every single day. Becoming a peacekeeper was one of the greatest decisions in the world as it allowed me the chance to watch people cower under my authority. My power. It was slow at first, but I was capable of growing through the ranks exactly like I wanted. I could show the world that I was the most powerful peacekeeper of all.
The first time I ever got the chance to whip a criminal was a moment I'll never forget. Blood splashed against my face mask, and the criminal was crying out in pain. Each time the whip came down, I struck with a great force, and each time my aim grew better and the force became stronger. A wicked grin pressed across my face as people gathered around chatting amongst themselves. I would've killed him. I would've whipped him hard enough, yet someone stepped in telling me it was only a public whipping. What good did it make if the criminal didn't suffer? I looked down at his shaking hands before shifting my gaze towards the pool of blood underneath him. It was a miracle he was still conscious after all the pain and blood loss. I wanted to bring the whip down one more time. I wanted to put him out of his misery, but my superiors stopped me. They told me enough was enough. It made me angry. It made me furious that my power was taken away in the blink of an eye, but I made sure this kid never put a toe across the line ever again. It was one of the best days of my entire life.
I got the job as hand to hand trainer. Yeah I wasn't the most qualified but then who is? No one's truly qualified to train kids to die for a living. The thing that impressed the higher ups? My willingness to step in without hesitation. I volunteered right away. The others I competed with applied with a lot less enthusiasm. That coupled with my fierce determination in raising my own chances, I won a hard fought race for the job. Soon as I got it, I began training in advanced hand to hand techniques. Takedowns, submissions, and other stuff. I won't be simply teaching someone how to throw a proper punch. Most tributes would want a weapon in the arena. It'll be my job to teach them how to survive with their fists. Never underestimate the force of a punch.