Taylor Keinari Fox ( D12) fin

Taylor Keinari Fox  

16 years old

  

Male 

District 12: The Mining District 

Taylor is a stout young man, standing at 6 feet tall and weighing 190 pounds. He’s built like a finely made bow, with muscles taught like steel cords rippling across his body. This body came from a hard childhood, what with the many fights, beatings and humiliations he had endured, they left many remnants. He has scars flowing down his arms, his back and chest, along with several on his neck and face. Even though his body is this mass of twisting muscles and scars, and even though his face has its own fair share, his face is rather soft.

His expressions rarely get cold, and as such he usually has a calm demeanor about him. However, to someone who doesn’t know him, His body coupled with his black hair stretching down his back, along with his ice blue eyes, he could seem rather intimidating. His eyes have become a bit of a mystery among the residents of district twelve, seeing as the norm for people of this district is steel grey eyes, his blue eyes make him a sort of target. He’s an oddball, with the most prominent scar on his face being a large gash stretching from under his right eye down past his jawline, and his odd body for being someone who struggled for food, and the strength he found while struggling. His past helped him build his body, all the heavy lifting and scraps he got into made him how he is today.

Because of his appearance, and how different he is compared to your regular residents of district 12, he was mainly shunned by the people and targeted by the peacekeepers. Taylor is not your typical person. Most people, seeing someone punished for a “crime” they have committed, regardless of man or woman, old or young, would stand back and watch, however Taylor would blindly throw himself in the middle of things to protect them. He is fiercely protective, and has the rage buried in him to back it up. Most days he’s calm, doesn’t bother people, and minds his own business.

When faced with danger or having seen someone who needs help, he becomes a completely different person. His calmness turns to rage, his passiveness turns to aggressiveness, and he’s quick to jump into a situation he isn’t a part of. He has troubles keeping control of himself when he’s fired up, which causes him to get in trouble often, since he is also highly impulsive and sometimes doesn’t think before he acts. His respect for women drives him to lengths many wouldn’t go to, such as attacking a peacekeeper for acting perverted towards a young girl, or for beating another boy for touching a girl the wrong way or calling her out of her name. These are prime examples of actions he’d take without considering the consequences. He isn’t the type to trust people easily, nor the type to get close to someone.

If proposed an alliance in the games, he’d most likely say no, however if there was a group ganging up on one person, it’s likely he’d try to help. He’s smart, and tends to understand how most people think, and while most would falter or hesitate when surprised, he keeps a level head and stays alert. He tends to embody the phrase, “Fight with a fire in your heart, but with a cool mind,” however this usually comes into play after the fact of him jumping into a situation. 

Taylor’s father died before his was born, and he was never told how it came about. He doesn’t even know his father’s name and every time he asked his mother, her response was,” Don’t worry son, You’re my rock and I’m yours. All we need is each other.” However, he’d sometimes find her crying and not know why. His mother homeschooled him while he was young, since they had no money and apparently his mother wasn’t even originally from district 12. He was told a story about his mother, but never really believed it. One day, he had overheard his mother talking to a man wearing a white uniform, and at the time he wasn't aware that this man was a peacekeeper. His mother had begged and pleaded for the man to keep his silence, while the man replied stating that his job was on the line. Taylor wasn't sure what this was about, but as he got older he heard rumors circulating about how his mother was originally from district 4. Their speculation was based on her stark blonde hair and her blue eyes, both of which Taylor had inherited. It was said she was involved with what they called " Aiding and abetting the rebellion", but most people stopped their trail of thought after that so Taylor never really heard anything in detail. He, however, had once found a flyer in one of his mother's old bags. It had a picture of president Snow, and a bunch of things talking about how bad the capitol was. Taylor just assumed that she had to leave district four because of that, maybe smuggled in a bread shipment or something, but eventually he disregarded that notion. When he was young, around 4 or 5, he can remember people screaming at his mother,” You ruined him!” or “He was a good man until you came along!” were the phrases they used.

He never understood why, and his mother always told him to pay them no mind. However, one day the rain had set in, and district 12 became even more desolate than usual, everyone’s spirits having dropped low. Taylor had been roaming around the muddy streets of the district, his spirits high as he always loved the rain and playing around in it. He was only six years old at this time, after all. He had taken to wandering into The Hob during his various times of roaming and this was one of those days, however this day was different.

He had been in The Hob for roughly half an hour, when he passed by the small bar where various people came to sit for a hard drink after a rough day. Unfortunately, among these people were several peacekeepers slacking on their jobs. One of which, had a knack for hitting on younger girls. Taylor had heard about this, and for some reason it always made him angry, but his mother was always there to shut him down. Today though, his mother wasn’t around, and right in front of him was the same peacekeeper he always heard about.

“James Winell.” He had growled under his breath at the sight of the man. ‘His job is to protect people and keep the peace, so why does he insist on doing the opposite,’ Taylor had always thought, and right in front of him was a prime example. A young girl was walking around the bar cleaning, presumably the barkeep’s daughter, and he had grabbed her by the arm to stop her. He proceeded to feel her up, oblivious to her weak cries asking him to stop, while everyone else dropped their eyes, pretending not to see for fear of punishment. This just angered Taylor even further, he’d never been this angry. His vision went red, and before he knew it, he had dashed over, grabbed the man by the back of his hair, and pulled him off the barstool onto his back. Now, granted, normally this never would have been accomplished by a six year old boy, which even honestly surprised Taylor that it did in the first place since he acted with any prior thought. The obscene amounts of alcohol in the man's system, combined with the unstable stool the man was on, probably helped account for the short but satisfying success of this endeavor.

Then, in the split second after the man landed on the ground, Taylor landed a swift kick to the side of his face, before suddenly the girl had pulled him back,” No don’t! He’ll punish you!” she cried, however Taylor had hardly heard it, his mind having been so focused on attacking the man. After overcoming his initial shock, the peacekeeper rose to his feet, bloodlust boiling in his eyes,” Why you little-!”, He yelled before smacking the girl away and proceeding to beat Taylor. Punch after punch, kick after kick, until all Taylor could understand was pain. His mother’s scream snapped him to reality, and he watched as she pulled at the peacekeeper, screaming at him to stop. The man hit her away, and upon her attempt to come back after him, he drew his gun and shot her once in the chest. She died instantly; the bullet having pierced her heart.

Everyone around flinched away as he swung his gaze on them,” Anyone else want to jump in?!” he screamed belligerently, before grabbing Taylor by the hair and dragging him to the whipping post. After gathering everyone to the area, and having had his mother’s body dragged out to be put on show like a slaughtered pig, he proceeded to go on a rant. He screamed about insubordination, unjust wrongdoing, and people not doing what they were supposed to. Like he had any room to talk. He then chained Taylor to the post and unrolled his whip after stepping back. “This is what happens!” He screamed, spit flying from his lips as he snapped the whip across Taylor’s back.

An agonized cry sprung unwillingly from Taylor’s lips, although he snapped his teeth shut, cutting it off halfway. “You want to act strong huh?!” James growled, before unleashing a flurry of strikes across Taylor’s back, each hit cutting deeper than the last, however, from some pit deep inside himself, Taylor had resolved to survive this, silently but surely, and refused to make another sound. This angered James even more, and he decided to leave a scar Taylor could never hide. He slowly circled around in front of Taylor,” See if you can keep your foolish pride after this!” He snarled, before lashing Taylor across the face, narrowly missing his eye. The cut went from under his eye and down past his jawline.

Apparently, after this, He had gotten bored so with a grunt he rolled up his whip and walked away, leaving Taylor chained to the post. At this point, with James’s back in his vision, Taylor finally succumbed to unconsciousness. (9 years later) Taylor has grown into a fine young man, although the scar of the day still remains there on his face, ever present and never fading. Since that day, he’s been shunned, unless being used for work. People call him a bad omen, a shadow on a once relatively peaceful district

. He still steps in where most don’t, causing him to continue to get more and more lashings, however now, much to his liking, it takes at least three or four peacekeepers to get him chained to that accursed post. He still never makes a sound. “You’ll never beat it out of me.” He spits onto the muddy ground, staring up into the clouds, surrounded by the stark grey placidness of District 12.