Renly Myreen D7 (FIN)

Looking myself in the mirror, look what Mother Nature as done to me. Hormones, hormones did well this time. A hormonal sixteen year old, no longer the goofy child I was before. Although the goofy trait still holds. Taking the scissors from the shelf, I tackle that mop on my temple. How I’d love to be in The Capitol, all those styles, but too much colour. Plain blue, brown, green will do me. But The Capitol offers more products, I just have this pair scissors and facial cream my mother whipped up from the market. I am sure it just scented double cream for puddings, not my face. Also gelatine used in cheesecake for my hair, obviously with the additional ingredients from various fauna my mother grows, but it will have to do. Everything will have to do.

Appearence:That face of mine, the oval skull and the nice rounded chin. Not a vile pointed spear sticking beneath my mouth. Bisque silky,spotless skin matted on my skull and cross my body. Not a touch of weathering or hardwork on it, another product of my mother's creations. Tincy blue eyes. quite mezmerizing i'd say. Although they come with flaws, broke n vision. Books I read diagnose it to be short-sigtedness, but I'll have to live with it. A pair of glasses would come in handy however, but we can't offered such pleasures. Pouting faded lips, mother says they always beam a great smile, I'd agree. The ivory beneath them, quite stained, but well protected, commodoties like toothpaste aren't greatly obtained in the district.

Mousy-blonde tamed hair, I love it. The only thing I get to style and tend for personally, you'll never see a lock of my hair out of place. Although a few locks are hard to tackle, which lay at the back of my cranium, but they add the extra wildness to my look. Five feet and ten inches, that's what I estimate my height to be anyway, i have never been measured before. Also my weight is an estimation also, 9 stone and seven pounds, a fair weight for somebody in my district. Tone muscles are non existant on my body, although biceps and calfs are trying to show their way through my skin. Unlike my brother, hard work hasn't taken an effective toll on my body. But an hourly run before breakfast has helped well with my stamina, just slightly. Cotton and linen drape my body, materials obtained by my mother. Most of my clothes are created by her, I prefer darker colours: blues,greys,greens. My usual casual attire is a once white shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbows a pair of waring black trousers, a hand me down of my brothers. Protecting my feet are a pair of brown laced boots, the only new item I have.

Personality: A goofy kid, a clown, self-loving worshipping cu... Many a words I have been called. Mostly insults, however some could be classed as character traits. I am not witty, I am not the brightest bulb in the box, but I am the sharpness knife in the drawer. Quick reflexes, the only thing my father praises me for, and my brother lacks. But sharpness is not superior when wisdom isn't accopmanying it, another thing my fathers faults me for. If I am not strong or clever, then I am useless. But they're not the only traits, that make someone who they're. More of my mother's words.

Comedian, the court jester, a title I take proudly. Able to make a silent room roar with laughter, dry as the sun. I don't know I am doing it, but somehow I can make people laugh. They're likely laughing at my clumsiness or stupidity, but people love me for it. Quite weird is an understatment, greatly mental is spot on. Self-loving another insult, yes I like to pamper myself up, and I am occasionally selfish. But in this world you need to look after number one, even if that is moulding my appearence for an hour every morning.

Ambitions, I am swimming in them. A great big house, right by the ocean, covered in acres of land. Farm animals, a great family, a table full of food. No ill health, no worries. But we can dream on. Although I'd love to go to The Capitol, for the right reasons ofcourse, to live there amongst the people. Pick up some of their styles, not so brightly coloured like they're. I wouldn't want to be a stylist, but I'd love to be styled on and not have the games to enter afterwards.

History: Born sixteen years ago I entered this world, quite an easy birth my mother told me, although she did have that abomination to push out a year earlier. Anything would be easy after that. So yes I have an older brother, Robbie. We're chalk and cheese and forever will be. Built like a brick house, he is my father's prodigy. My mother and father are fairly common people. My mother is a stay at home woman, mixing together medicines and various other supplements from a collection of flora and fauna. My father the typical man from District 7, a full time lumberjack and a carpenter during the night.

When I began to walk, my father taught me to hold an axe, and various other tools you'd need to carve a object out of wood. Of course my brother was a natural to the trade. At 6, I carved my very first sphere (ball) out of wood, butat this age my brother had made a clock of some sort. Forever being shadowed by my brother in my father's eyes, I took to my mother's work. Being her guinea pig for her various aging creams, I know none of them work, everybody knew, even my mother. But it helps the district feel better about themselves and even smell nicer.

At ten, I had sort of mastered the art of axe throwing, but of course my brother was already the expert. Abandoning my father's lectures, I took to jogging, running around the district, meeting new people. Many homeless, less fortunate than I, I felt sorry for many and used to sneak various wooden objects from the house I had created, I gave it to the homeless. Something for them to treasure, or maybe sell for bread at the market.

I understood more about the games when I was eleven, my brother told me all the details of them. I used to watch them as child all the time, but didn't exactly understand what was going on. For four years now I have skipped through reaping, without my name being called. Ofcourse I am afraid it will. Since I learnt about it, my jogging became more frequent, I needed to get fitter. I also started to get involved more in my father's axe throwing exercises, I just needed some skills, just to prepare myself if worse came for worse. My mother told me to never even think about going into the games, I don't think about it. But I believe it is better to be prepared, I am likely to fail, but at least I have a chance.