Cicuta Volcain // District 4 [CB]

From a young age I had a gift for reading faces. None of that superstitious crap about divining futures or anything, but the ability to know what someone was thinking. Only those with faces like stone, or with features so weathered they were practically gone, can hide their mind from me. The smallest twitch of an eyelid, twist of a corner of a mouth, or furrow of the brow can provide me with all the knowledge I need to catch them up and sell them something they probably don't even need.

From a young age I also knew that my brother wasn't like others. Having grown up with him I knew how to read him, but it was his absence of expression that I read and not the presence of it as I did with others. My brother didn't feel, at least not as others did. He could act, but to my trained eye it was choppy and broken, so much unlike the smooth movements he normally made. I would cover for his slips in interactions, hide his tracks and trails with my charm. He protected me in his own way, too. Together, we held each other aloft.

Only a couple years ago my parents decided to step up my training beyond those of a seller. My father, especially, wanted to add another service to our business. It was fine to sell a product, but being able to install it so the client didn't have to was always viewed favorably, especially when the client would prefer to keep their hands clean of the whole matter. My Games training merged with this training, especially in training to have quick, accurate hands. Blow pipes, darts, coated knives, and even swapping out edible berries for poisonous ones that looked the same. Injecting foods with venom, slipping toxins into drinks, if there was a way to deliver death to someone using poison I was taught it.

After all, it's the family business.

- female - seventeen - district four -
^{CB from Ratmas 2016 [1/5]}