Kastiella Escher | Avox

Name:
Kastiella Escher

Age:
 17

Gender:
Female

District/Area:
Capitol

Appearance:
 

As perfectly or imperfectly dressed as her master wishes, Kastiella is known by any name, and her clothing is as of little consequence as the words she's addressed with. She certainly has no power over what her owners set out for her. She's pretty enough in her own way; but it's a plain beauty, easy to ignore, easier still to overlook. 

Her face is a little square, although with her hair most often pulled back into a bun or ponytail, it is more noticeable than if she were allowed to have her hair down to frame her face. Her jaw is strong, her chin soft and narrow (giving a little reprieve from the blocky look she would have otherwise). Her eyebrows are natural, slightly thick, but maintained carefully so as to not be bushy-- something she has to find time for. Usually her owners are kind enough to give her a little time for her appearance, though they dictate it; in a city where appearance is everything, even traitors that should have been killed deserve at least ten minutes to make sure they aren't covered in crap. Especially since the majority of owners would rather have a pretty piece of furniture than an ugly one.

Her eyes are dark green, slightly glassy, and her nose is slightly upturned, a little small. Freckles dot the bridge of her nose and the apples of her cheeks sparsely, as though someone had sprinkled the tiniest pinch of pepper onto eggs and then taken the same design to her skin.

Her hair is another matter, simply because it is overlooked so often. Pulled back into an imperfect bun by her own unskilled hands, it looks only just passable. Where her skin is free of blemishes, her hair is often a little tangled under the outer sheen dancing across the wavy brown. In a way it's her way of controlling something. In a way she's ashamed of it. Sometimes she wishes she could just do it right.

Personality:

 Spirited, but subdued by her lot in life, Katniss Kastiella used to be eager, confident, enthusiastic. With very little left to feel that way about, she's forced herself to take joy in the small things-- being able to dress herself, for one. She's very glad she gets to do that, even though she sometimes doesn't get to do the undressing... which is a well-kept secret that her Master will never tell. For all that he only feels safe because she can't speak, even if she could, she wouldn't tell a soul. She wishes she could forget it, but she still wakes up at night with cold sweats and her heart pounding because she thinks she hears someone by her door.

Her spirited joy for simply being alive has been transformed into a slower-burning endurance. She isn't quite depressed, but she is very much subdued, not only by the empty space where her tongue used to be. She often wishes she still had one, and thinks that the first thing she would do with it is eat every damn thing in her owner's house.

But then she remembers the things he does, and is fervently glad that she can no longer taste. Perhaps there is an upside to being silenced. If nothing else, at least she can't possibly get in trouble for her disgust at the way people live in the Capitol.

Still-- she's gotten used to it. She almost understands that this is because of the president, that they have been raised this way, like sheep, to think this is normal, the way she was raised in a district to think that the pain and suffering and poverty was normal.

Almost.

History:

  Born into District 6, where she had only painful memories of warm faces she would never see again, Kastiella was raised gently, given a comfortable childhood. She had two siblings, who her mind refused to think of, and parents, likewise forgotten because it would not do to break down now. What would they think of you now, being held against the mattress like this, thanking him for his brutality?.

On the day of the reaping just five months ago-- had it been so recently, it felt like years-- she had been ecstatic.
"Jeremy, I love you," she'd whispered before the reaping had begun. "I can't wait for the marriage." She had rubbed her stomach, which was slightly protruding, and kissed him on the cheek.

After the reaping, they made to run to each other, but he accidentally tripped into an off-duty Peacekeeper. Not knowing who he was addressing-- too preoccupied with getting back to her-- he said something quite unpleasant.

The Peacekeeper turned around and some on-duties came by to see what the problem was. He quickly backed down, apologizing, but he was shoved down on his knees with and she saw red.

Charging at the peacekeeper, she shoved him away from Jeremy, grabbing the whip out of his hand and cracking it at him.

"He's my fiancee!" she'd screamed, "We're having a baby, you can't do this!"

Having been only five months along, she was still capable of this feat of strength; but the Peacekeepers pulled her away, and not knowing what they did (or perhaps knowing and not caring), one of them slammed his baton into her stomach.

She'd grunted, in shock, and then the pain began. It was unbearable and she screamed without cease, going limp. When the pain finally began to ebb (which was far sooner than it felt to her) the Peacekeeper gestured to a knife in his belt and leaned in close to whisper to her.

"You can either be Avox or dead. Choose wisely, because you just made the biggest mistake of your life."

She gazed over to Jeremy in horror, and he was sobbing like a baby, shaking his head, mouthing the word no at her.

She parted her lips for him obediently, like she probably would have for any man these days, knowing how disgusting she'd become to save herself, unable to speak before he even drew the knife.

Months passed her by as she was put into the care of whatever family had wanted her. An older male and a younger woman, a couple, had been excited to bring her home-- but only just, because even though they were getting their own Avox, it was still in bad taste to be excited about their own personal slave because it was an Avox.

She couldn't remember now. Had she miscarried? Or had they made her abort? Or... had she given birth? Her fantasies, dreamed so often of a babe at her chest and a man at her side, had mixed with her nightmares to the point of confusion. Sometimes she still whispered a name at night, imagining warmth beside her, and becoming confused when the tiny cot she lay on couldn't possibly hold another person.

This is what it meant to be Avox.

Codeword: Odair

Other: I have Katniss strikethrough'd in my personality section because I found it funny as an afterthought how the two names sound similar and almost wrote Katniss instead. xD Also, Highlight here  for a very sad, partially gruesome fact. Though she can't tell, she did miscarry, but she was just far along that she also had to 'birth' her dead child, which helps her confusion along. Poor girl.