Andromeda the Darling Capitolist

Name: Andromeda Nova

Age: 20

Gender: Female

District/Area: Capitol

Appearance:

Andromeda's usual fashion consists of dark, understated looks with only barely up-to-par glamour in her clothes. Thus she does not stand out (as someone without any fashionable clothing would), nor does she blend into the wash of almost grotesquely mutilated (in the name of fashion) people around her.

It is common for Andromeda to be overlooked in crowds despite her unusual preference for darker hues. She uses this to her advantage in many situations, preferring to go unseen, unheard, and unnoticed. Unfortunately that is impossible in the Capitol, with everyone watching, but that doesn't stop her. Much.

Andromeda stands at an average 5'6", much of her height attributed to her long legs. Her stature is willowy, but she is pleasantly plump: she appears willowy because of how well proportioned her weight is to her height. At least, she is pleasantly plump compared to the majority of Capitol residents, who often drink the vomit-liquid even after they're done eating to maintain their stick-figure shapes. It suits her, however; if she were more prominent and fashionable it might even be a new trend, but she has never been prominent or fashionable. This artificially created porcelain doll was given corrective surgery to even out her features and make her more beautiful as a child and teenager, but since reaching adulthood and escaping her parent's well-meaning surgery appointments, she hasn't augmented (or ruined) herself any further. This is lucky, because the next one was going to be changing her eyes, and had a 40% failure rate... not that anyone actually read the fine print... or signed any waivers.

Personality:

Unlike the majority of Capitol residents, Andromeda is not airheaded or naive. She understands the plights of the tributes... well, to be more precise, she understands that she can't know what it's like, having never been there, and she feels powerless to do anything about it. In response to the things she sees happening to these children, she wishes she could be there instead... and yet she knows she is too scared of it to think she actually wants to be there. No, she merely wishes that she could save one of the children, even just one, from the terrible things that happen in the Arena.

These desires have been pushed down and glazed over with the general warmth and cheer of Capitol folly. Andromeda still wants to save them, but over the years she has come to understand it will never change, learning to accept it. Instead she turns herself to shrewd business tactics; buying and selling secrets, for secrets are invaluable here, and using the profit to better herself and benefit those tributes that she thinks are most worth her attempts to save them.

Should she fail to help 'save' one, she often dons white as a private sign of mourning and will all but ignore the games. She takes these failures to heart and keeps the fallen tribute in mind, apologizing to... their spirit?... over dozens of lit candles, hoping that maybe the odd ritual she developed will help cleanse her of the failure and help ease the suffering the tribute had gone through. If nothing else, she believes that holding tightly to what happened to them, reliving the tragic scene often enough, will help her understand what they felt and honor them in a world where the only others that even cared the tribute existed were whatever family they had left.

These ideas are quite radical for Capitol residents, to the point that one might think she grew up in a district. This is not true, no matter what the rumors are-- and nobody knows about her secret beliefs, either. No, instead Andromeda discovered them through a purely normal process.

She observed.

In a society where observation is almost as rare as someone that doesn't dress in the latest fashion as enthusiastically as those scarring their skin for beauty, the easy cues and obvious sights are overlooked and taught to be overlooked. When, however, a child truly watches and listens to what they see, they notice things.

For instance, Andromeda noticed every tear-streaked, grief-stricken family member that appeared in the broadcasts when the tributes were reaped.

"Why, Mama?" she had asked. "Oh-- because they're so happy to have their {child/sibling/friend} chosen," her mother had responded, but it had felt hollow. Their faces hadn't seemed happy at all.

In this string, Andromeda had noticed and discovered many things, and it was this ability to see things that allows her to succeed in her information brokering.

History:

Andromeda had been born to a middle-upper class couple. She had been an accident, conceived despite multiple contraceptive methods. In fact, her parents hadn't actually been prepared for a child, let alone dating at the time; but when it was found out they quickly adopted the performance of husband and wife as though they'd been doing it all their lives. They made quite a nice couple, too, for a pair of pretenders that really didn't think much for themselves at all.

She was raised in warmth and copious amounts of Capitol psycholinguistic neurolingual programming attempts. She had a habit of taking things a bit literally, however, as a child; she had also had poor social skills. Most of their attempts only confused her, due to undiagnosed, mild neuroatypical pathways. This either resolved itself or was cleverly hidden during her teenage years, and as an adult it would be nigh impossible to discern that she had ever had such problems.

She had been given luxury on a silver spoon, entertainment on demand, and both drama and violence in high resolution. Such a provocative mix might have had worse effects with the semi-failure of the Capitol's teachings, but she was not the sort to stand out. Instead she hungered desperately for acceptance, needing to fit in from a very young age. As such she quickly adopted the ideas despite her dislike of them, stifling any spoken thought that would get her negative attention from her peers. As such she kept a relatively capable head on her shoulders, understanding more of the world than is normal, without becoming too... unmanageable, outspoken, or (dare she think it-- of course she dare) unfashionable for the Capitol's tastes.

Codeword: Odair... y. Odairy. I love me some dairy products. Mmmm, cheese.