#gender roles in Panem

[freebooter4ever]

"You know what my mother said? 'It looks like District 12 may finally have a winner.' But she wasn't talking about me. She was talking about you." <3

[slaymitchabernathy]

The Type of Boyfriend

People often wonder what type of boyfriend Coriolanus Snow would be like.

He’s a coat of many colors, a jack of all trades, a fucking wild card if you will, so a definite answer can truly never be given.

However.

Coriolanus Snow is the type of boyfriend who insists on the stereotypical gender roles, his girlfriend must look presentable at all times—to help his image—and he is to be the sole provider of their household.

Coriolanus does however hold his girlfriend’s purse whenever he takes her shopping, the six-foot-two man proudly wearing her outrageously expensive handbag on his broad shoulder while he follows her around the store.

Coriolanus Snow is the type of man to roll his eyes at any signs of weakness. He doesn’t tolerate things like that, childish notions that he left behind years ago when the war ended.

Coriolanus does make the exception for his girlfriend though. Especially when she falls and hits the pavement hard, scraping her soft knees. He’s thorough in cleaning them, wrapping them in bandages and then placing kisses on the bandages cuts for good measures.

A woman’s body is something he knows much about but he always seems to be lacking when it comes to the somewhat taboo topic of his girlfriend’s menstrual cycle. Quite the painful topic where she’s concerned. He does everything to help make her feel better. Heating pads, chocolates, kisses, whatever she wants. He truly does hate to see her in pain to the point where he begins to grow a certain disdain to her uterus for inflicting such pain on his precious girl.

Coriolanus Snow is the type of boyfriend to claim he despises being forced to indulge in cute little dates. Don’t ever try to get him to do a simple face mask, even though he’ll complain when he feels that the amount she’s applied isn’t “an even coat.” And heaven forbid he be coaxed into wearing a matching set of pajamas while he watches her construct a pillow fort in their living room, mostly because he’ll just have to take over since the structural integrity is clearly at risk with these throw pillows.

Coriolanus Snow is the type of boyfriend to absolutely despise his girlfriend being in the company of other men. He might make the exception for her father but that’s about it. He can’t help it, can’t trust these other men and their intentions with his precious rose. She is the air he breathes and for that to be taken away from him is something that terrifies him.

Coriolanus Snow is the type of boyfriend who looks forward to falling asleep but only because it means his girlfriend is safely tucked away in his strong arms. He loves to watch her sleep, listen to her soft breathing and watch her nose twitch every once in a while. She’s managed to touch a deep rooted kindness in him that he thought no longer excited until he met her. To have her seek him out for comfort and safety is a gift within itself and one he could never take for granted.

Coriolanus Snow is the type of boyfriend to be surprisingly good at braiding hair. It’s no secret that braided hair is all the rage in Panem and he’ll be damned if his girlfriend is left out of the rising trend. He can do a mean fishtail and don’t even ask if he can dutch braid because he sure fucking can.

Coriolanus Snow is the type of boyfriend to be extremely petty when it comes to the simplest things like putting the dishes away or making the bed. He can’t help but keep a mental spreadsheet in his mind of what has been done by who. Even if it lands him cleaning out the litter box.

Coriolanus Snow is the type of boyfriend to claim that he can’t stand his girlfriend’s cat but rushes both of them to the vet when her cat gets sick. He’ll be right with the love of his life while they wait in that oh-so crowded waiting room with the parrot who keeps saying the most creative curse words he’s ever heard. He’s most definitely going to pester the veterinarian with a thousand questions concerning the cat’s health even though it turns out the spoiled thing ate a sock. And his girlfriend won’t get a chance to pay for the vet bill, because Coriolanus insists on paying for everything.

And when it’s later that evening and all is well and his girlfriend has drifted off the sleep he’ll confess to the feline that he was just a tad bit worried about her health. But he’ll deny such claims should they be brought up.

But Coriolanus Snow is the type of boyfriend who has a certain dark side that he hides away. So heaven help his girlfriend when she finally discovers it and realizes that it’s far too late to escape the jaws of this venomous snake.

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

[witchthewriter]

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧'𝐬 𝐬/𝐨 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!  

Warnings: swearing, major mentions of death and violence, spoilers, death of children, mental illness, mentions of previous torture. 

a/n: with the hunger games resurgance, I want to continue writing for these characters. I absolutely loved this series so much, it was an innate part of my teenage years. 

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ      

🌿ESTP 🍁Slytherin 📜Chaotic Neutral 🔮Scorpio Sun, Aries Moon, Aries Rising  

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈:    

Dance Me To The End Of Love by The Civil Wars (they featured on the song with Taylor Swift in the first movie)

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿  

・You were never reaped, and never knew the personal/immediate experience of having to kill someone. However, your oldest brother was in the Hunger Games, a few years after Johanna. So, you knew the pain of losing a loved one. 

・Helping each other transition into a world where the Hunger Games no longer exists

・In a world where the Capitol doesn’t rule with an iron fist 

・After the events of Coin’s death, Katniss and Peeta go to district 12 to live out their days in peace

・Johanna still plagued by the torture and trauma she endured, didn’t know what to do. 

・No family, no friends, so she hid herself in the apartment that Commander Paylor gave to her (all living victors were given an apartment. But the catch was that they had to go through therapy)

・Johanna refused to go to the appointments. She was adamant that it was stupid, it wouldn’t help. 

・And she drowned in her own sadness 

・It took her 3 months to begrudgingly go to an appointment

・It was a group therapy session. Katniss and Peeta weren’t there as they lived in District 12 and didn’t live off of Paylor’s generosity

・It was a small group, and when Johanna looked around at the other victors, she saw herself. Hurt. Broken...the feeling of something that was taken and they could never get it back

・You were apart of the healers. Not a therapist, but a protegee underneath Ms Everdeen - yes, Katniss’ mother

・She shined in the Capitol; given the best treatment for everything she suffered 

・And you were lucky enough to be her assistant. 

・Learning the art of healing wasn’t easy

・But the opportunity was too good to let pass by 

・Ms Everdeen was a quiet woman, but when she taught, there was a light that began to shine. With each comment, lesson, tutorial and experience - she began to glow and glow. 

・But you soon learnt that bringing up either of her daughters was... bad. Her light dimmed whenever their names were mentioned; even talking about the plants was difficult for her. 

・She loved Prim, her youngest who looked like her. Who never judged her, only had love in her heart for everyone. Katniss was so distant, it felt like a death

・Johanna felt safe with Ms Everdeen. It was an interesting dynamic. She somewhat... stepped into a maternal role for the young victor. A role that Johanna desperately wanted filled but would never admit

・That’s how you met Johanna; in all her hardened exterior. Someone unloved but not unlovable. 

・Your relationship started off very clumsily; she saw you as another therapist - therefore an enemy. 

・You didn’t take much of a liking to her either 

・It was a conscious effort to be curteous 

・And Ms Everdeen pushed you toward Johanna

・Call it a mother’s intuition 

・And that intuition spurred a tight friendship. Johanna eased into your company (not without a fight) 

・You showed her moments into your world and in response, she displayed glimpses into her own

・And then you formed a tight bond. Best friends. Always doing things together, eating, spending all your free time with her

・You even inspired her to go to the therapy appointments 

・And although there were a few hiccups along the way, Johanna started to heal

・From then on she wanted to know what this new world had to offer

・ You both explored what the new Panem was, how Paylor had changed the old ways into something new. A united nation, where everyone reaped the benefits of food, shelter and safety. 

・There were no games after the rebellion. Paylor made sure of that:

   “We didn’t let people sacrifice their lives for a world where we go on sacrificing. We are one now. Panem will never be the same.” 

・Now with a new sense of freedom, you saw a change in Johanna. You knew what it was - hope

・This newfound hope made Johanna realise that ... she could do whatever she wanted. There wasn’t a reason why she couldn’t. She had survived. 

・The very next hour, she had walked right up to you and kissed you fiercely 

・It wasn’t the best place to snog; right in front of Ms Everdeen, but when you pulled apart you glimpsed over at her and saw her smile 

・Being with Johanna is like the like winter. Having a fire to keep yourself warm is cosy but when it gets out of hand - it will leave you with nothing but ashes. 

・You moved in together, a three bedroom apartment that wasn’t too far from Ms Everdeen’s place. You both felt too guilty leaving her.

・Once there was a time that you invited Peeta and Katniss to come and stay, but Peeta wrote back that Katniss wasn’t ready. 

・As a partner, Johanna is hot-headed but also playful and teasing

・She loves ruffling your feathers (never too much though, she never wants to push you away)

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔  

Complete And Utter Badass, Rather Monstrous (Johanna) x Their Ray Of Light Who Has Them Wrapped Around Their Finger (You)

Confident & Flirty (Johanna) x Has Never Been Flirted With Before, Thinks They're Just Being Nice (You)

Snarky Power Couple That Can, And Probably Will, Destroy You

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆  

You Make Me Want To Be A Better Person

𝑯𝒆𝒓 𝑷𝒆𝒕 𝑵𝒂𝒎𝒆 𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝒀𝒐𝒖

At first it was your last name. She would say it with such coldness, and unkindness. A forced tone that she used. On the outside she hated you, and yet on the inside... she had a burning passion for you. Through the progression of your relationship, you could tell how she felt about you with how she said your last name. 

𝑯𝒆𝒓 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝑳𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆

Acts of Service and Quality Time. 

Johanna hates all that sappy lovey-dovey talk, and she’s still healing with the aspect of physical touch. So the way she shows her affection is through doing things for you and spending time with you. And then she starts to do those little signs of affection; kisses on the cheek, moving hair out of your face, wiping any food from your mouth etc. PDA is pretty much a no no. But when someone tries ANYTHING with you, then she will kiss you so hard, showing that you’re hers. She’s very protective ... well possessive, over you. 

𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾 🔞minors dni!

・The first few times you had sex with Johanna, it was angry sex. The kind where you barely kiss each other, and the headboard is banging, and it doesn’t last too long. Then afterwards it’s not spoken about

・It was difficult, in all honesty. Because you felt used

・But Johanna was trying to hide a part of herself. A deeper part that she’s hidden behind a wall of imenetrable steel. A wall only she can knock down. 

・So it took time - 

・But in that time, you expressed your discomfort at the lack of a deeper connection

・And your relationship was put on hold for a bit until Johanna could open up to you. 

・Your relationship progression made sex more and more softer, intimate, slower. 

・She wasn’t so rough

・And you realised she would barely kiss you during sex. But now, with her walls down, she couldn’t stop kissing you 

・Johanna’s lips were warm, but still with an edge of savagery. Nips here and there, she loves leaving marks, bruises, and hickies.

・She likes leaving them where other’s can see - 

・Johanna needs people to know that you’re taken

・A big thing with her is foreplay. She loves making you whine, beg for more. 

・SHE LOVES TO TEASE

・Sex toys? Yes. Vibrators, strap ons, dildos, anal beads etc. She would own the lot (and you guys keep everything in your ‘sex’ drawer)

[eerna]

As an aspiring male writer, what’s your advice to make my writing not suck? What things should I avoid, what should I focus on?

Probably would want to write mostly fantasy novels, with some romance present, but not as a main focus. More so that the two characters would develop into who they need to be, which brings them together/closer. But the main focus of my stories would be on the individual characters. Thanks mate! 😎

I am not very well versed in academic level feminist discussions, or in any way shape or form educated in matters of creative writing, so I'm not sure I'm the best person to answer your questions. But if you're worried because of my earlier gender-focused criticism of RR, I can try rephrasing my thoughts a bit to make them more constructive!

Your goals in writing sound like the thing RR's author didn't have, which was looking at a romance as a partnership between two equally whole characters. His women are written as vessels of either sexual violence or adoration, their motivations and goals are very vague and their character arcs nonsensical. The men are granted clear roles in the story, as each other's foils and enemies and friends, but the women are always someone's girl and they change depending on what the story needs them to be. Sure, the female lead ends up the main ruler of the universe while the male lead is her supporter, but that doesn't mean anything because she was nothing but his love interest the rest of the time. She just gets granted an empty title to prove the writer is feminist without any clear character arcs that would make her success narratively satisfying.

In addition, you can tell he doesn't have very healthy views of gender dynamics because he created a world in which physical inequalities are gone and everyone is genetically enhanced to be the perfect candidate for whatever role they are to fulfill, eradicated sexism on a societal level so that women are viewed exactly the same as men, but he STILL uses "like a woman" as an insult and presents them as the "whores" in casual dialogue. So the society that is said to have equalized itself suddenly isn't equal at all when the main character has to call another man a little girl as an insult, or when women engage in premarital sex with men and get treated badly for it while their partners don't.

And then even if we ignore the female portion of his crimes, his writing style is very reflective of the "mansplaining" way of speaking. He is incapable of separating himself from his characters - the lead is supposed to be 16-18 years old from Mars, but he speaks like a 30-something Earthling weaned on modern politics, which the writer is. And this lead is presented as perfect: super hot, wise beyond his years, and capable of changing tides of a war with nothing but his words, which means he gives very very long monologues, and those monologues are all very on-the-nose and preachy. You can tell that this is all just an excuse for the writer to present his worldview, which he considers superior to everyone else's, through a mouthpiece, and the characters are all completely subjected to it.

Last and least because it's petty but you asked for specifically male identifiers, the worldbuilding is based on Ancient Rome, but a version of it that is clearly pulled from the typically male surface level obsession with the Roman Empire. I'm a woman and spent most of my childhood completely enamored with Rome - it was the only aspect of the book I liked - so I feel like I am allowed to criticize this approach to it. He only features the Roman pantheon/war/slavery aesthetic and doesn't care about any other aspect of their culture, which is what men usually approach history as. To use another dystopian YA novel as an example, The Hunger Games were also inspired by Rome, but they took inspiration from its philosophy on politics and crowd control, death and entertainment, and the American obsession with it. Now imagine if the only thing Panem had to say about Rome is that it named its army positions the same as they were in Caesar's time, worshipped their gods, and also they had slaves.

Anyway like I said I don't think I'm the correct person to instruct anyone on gender dynamics in creative writing. I'd recommend reading written works on the theme to truly get to the bottom of it. Happy writing!

[whoyoucallinpinheaddirtydan]

Solace

Gift For @angelltheninth

This is a thank you for being awesome person and writer.

Fanfic One Shot

Crossover Hazbin Hotel and Hunger Games

Basic description: Angel returns from working at the studio on a bad day thanks to Valentino. Y/N (a sinner who was a tribute/victor of the Hunger Games) sings a song to calm him. A song that plays an important role to show the people of Panem solidarity between different districts. Now it’s a song to show solidarity from one person who was exploited for entertainment and cruelty to another.

Content Warning: vague mention of Valentino, drugs, and drinking.

Relationship between Y/N and Angel, Y/N’s gender and what district they are from is left ambiguous.

The feeling of silence after a hard day of work would feel peaceful for most; but for Angel Dust it's left with dread. 

Returning home to see Fat Nuggets and his favorite pet sitter/helper are the few things he looks forward to. Y/N is a sinner from the 2100s, they died at some point during the Hunger Games. They were reaped from at a young age and were forced to do terrible deeds for the Capitol politicians. At some point they died during the 75th Hunger Games. 

Y/N was cleaning up after Nuggets when you see Angel entering the bedroom, the blank expression and the dark eye circles from exhaustion. It's clear Valentino gave him a bad day. You and Nuggets exchanged a look, silently agreeing he needs help.

After Angel gets dressed for bed, Y/N enters the room with a laundry basket to put away his clothes for him. Angel didn’t mind it much and appreciated the extra help as he had no energy to do it himself. 

Nuggets jumps on the bed and licks his face with adoring affection making Angel smile somewhat. 

The first thing he looked forward to, the next thing is a song that Y/N knew for as long as they can remember. As Y/N sings it gives him an image that he wishes was real right now.

In a deep meadow, a soft bed of grass with a green pillow under a willow tree.

He lays on his bed, afraid of closing his eyes as his dreams were anything but sweet, and tomorrow reveals their truth. In the morning he’ll face another day, where he is tormented.

Angel knew he took for granted simple things such as seeing the daisies in the sun rising in the morning sky from Earth. If only they could guard him from every harm. To feel safe and warm is a distant memory now.

He wished he could run away and remain hidden far away, a place where he can be safe and feel warmth every day. 

For now a hellish moonbeam ray shining through a clove of leaves of the dark plants outside of his window will do. He holds Fat Nuggets to his chest as he looks over the horizon thinking about…well everything especially a certain someone cleaning up his makeup table.

He wonders how Y/N do it. How does a sinner manage to keep fighting in death just like in life? Y/N’s life was very different from his yet similar. They were used for entertaining those who didn’t deserve it. Forced to do things and become the very people they didn’t want to be. Hell is not safe nor warm but for Y/N there were worse games to play.

Drugs and drinking can only do so much to forget his woes. The only comfort is letting his troubles of everyday life lay in small moments like this with his companions. 

Maybe he can find a meadow hidden far away and lay under a willow in Heaven so he can be happy for once and truly heal. Being surrounded by daisies, guarding him from every harm. Despite his doubts, sweet dreams of redemption and promises of tomorrow in Heaven’s rising sun is his only hope. He finally closes his sleepy eyes, and allows himself to sleep, his nightmares can’t be washed away. He will face the truth of reality if he wants to see another day.

The first step now is knowing he is loved, even when it's hard to find it. He is starting to understand that now. Years under Valentino, made him think that people only love him for his work in the studio, not as Anthony the man behind the facade of Angel Dust. 

Being a pornstar or a tribute/victor is to go through act after act without a say. But if Y/N can fight back despite the odds, even in death, maybe he can? He looks forward to going back to the hotel Charlie built as it washes away his troubles and forgets his daily woes. 

There is a place where the last line of the song Y/N sings, where he is truly loved.

[felixravinstills]

absolute primogeniture idea: livia cardew's mother is also named livia cardew

i tend to think of the capitol as less patriarchal (to a certain extent) because i find it interesting to imagine that the capitol pursues some ideals that i (the reader) might agree with while also pursuing others that are very clearly dystopian -- the locked tomb series explores this more explicitly, but i feel like in thg, something similar is present in the background. same with the apparent lack of homophobia tbh. like, as long as you serve the empire, does it matter to the capitol if you're gnc? (<- that's the part that' similar to tlt. possibly.) if the capitol is anti-religion, does the enforcement of "traditional" gender roles have too close a connection to beliefs/loyalties that the capitol is trying to get everyone to leave behind? katniss mentions that in district 12 there's free housing (assigned at the justice building) and the right to marry whoever you want (whatever that's actually implying), so i could see some gender-equal laws/institutions being the norm in panem -- and maybe not just the norm, but something that's specifically valued as important to society. even if in practice it's sometimes less egalitarian

i don't think about movie canon as much, but the fact that the academy requires all students to wear both pants and a skirt at the same time is definitely Something as well

it does seem like panem probably has a more recognizably patriarchal history, considering its attitudes toward sexuality (especially re: how the grandma'am talks about lucy gray, and how snow thinks about tigris), but that doesn't necessarily mean that gender roles, relationships between gender and class, etc., haven't changed a lot. idk. there's a lot to think about and i really appreciate how people interpret the capitol in so many different ways in fic/theories

Yes! Yeah, this is exactly how I feel with how the Capitol is! Also love the tlt connection!

I do find it interesting that the Capitol is anti-religion. In my head (and fics), I explore this translating into things needing to be translated into know and unknown. People in the Capitol not being the best equipped to deal with things on faith. They need to justify things even if it’s faulty logic <- Volumnia and Coriolanus

I also really love reading people’s thoughts on the Capitol! It’s so interesting!

[goldencopper]

PATRICK SCHWARZENEGGER, CIS MAN, HE/HIM — The 74th Annual Hunger Games are upon us and here comes ORION COPPERHEAD, a GAMEMAKER. Word around The Capitol is that they’re ADROIT & DUTIFUL but can also be EGOCENTRIC & POSSESSIVE. According to sources, they’re TWENTY-FOUR and were once described as ICARUS FLYING DANGEROUSLY CLOSE TO THE SUN, SEEMINGLY PERFECT AND READY TO UNRAVEL, THE WEIGHT OF THE WORLD ON YOUR SHOULDERS, THE CHOICE BETWEEN CONTENTMENT AND ENDLESS AMBITION. What a character! As we always say, may the odds be ever in their favor!

𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂. full name: orion lukas copperhead gender & pronouns: cis man (he/him) orientation: heterosexual & heteromantic age: twenty-four d.o.b: april 4th zodiac sign: aries sun, scorpio moon, gemini rising traits: adroit, dutiful, egocentric, possessive alignment: chaotic evil cabin number: thirteen (hades) character inspiration: young president snow (songbirds and snakes), effie trinket (hunger games), sejanus (songbirds and snakes)

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐒.

Deceive 3

Fight 2

Lore (knowledge) 3

Notice 2

Physique 3

Provoke 1

Rapport 2

Resourcefulness 1

Stealth 1

Will 2

𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐘.

Orion’s whole life revolved around a strategic yet simple plan. He had to be the best. No matter the cost. He was the first born to parents he never got to know. Although, that didn’t stop them from putting all their expectations on his shoulders. His uncle worked hard for his place in Panem and Orion wanted to do the same. He held a small amount of detestation for his own father, who seemed to not only enjoy the easy life but who believed his sons should do the same. This only caused the eldest Copperhead to want to work harder. He would be the one to rebuild the name his father wasted. This meant pushing himself beyond what he thought was capable. No one knew about Orion’s internal struggle, nor did they care if they knew. Orion smiled and attended event after event while he trailed behind his uncle with an undeniable loyalty. That’s what they cared about. His image Orion heard it everywhere he went. “He’s just like his uncle… He’ll be the President one day… That Copperhead will go far!” He usually shook it off but one thing was sure, Orion knew what the public wanted. For him to succeed. In private, Orion journaled about what he was sacrificing for this life. His morals? His sanity? Other lives that were thrown away so easily while he always got a seat at the table. He sometimes thought that this was a nightmare. His entire life was some big game and one day, he would wake up in another district where he was forced to go back to reality. He almost dreamt of it sometimes, the people he saw from the other districts. He started to wonder what might be outside the Capitol and how different his life truly was. At eighteen, he graduated top of his class and was offered a position as a gamemaker. Of course having your uncle as the President had its perks in this case. Instead of accepting, Orion wanted to finally understand how the other districts operated. He joined the Peacemakers and for two years he was stationed in District 6, Transportation. The entirety of Panem was confused by the eldests choice but Orion knew he could never be President one day if he had never set foot out of the Capitol. His uncle was disappointed but when Orion explained his reasoning, the golden boy finally got what he always wanted. Approval from the President himself. When Orion returned to the Capitol, he became a Gamemaker. Just like his time in District 6, he took to his role quickly and became well-loved amongst the others. Orion enjoyed the planning, the strategy and the overall excitement of the games but what he didn’t think about was the deaths. Watching the games as a child and a teen had a different tone now. Especially after living outside the Capitol. Orion’s days started to bleed together and while he knew the games meant death, it also meant he was another step closer to becoming President. The pressure and desire to be perfect returned, stronger than ever before. He started speaking up more, offering more plans for the following games and even asking to shadow Head Gamemakers as the years went on. This year, Orion’s strategy is the same as always. Be perfect. Be the best and he will come out on top, just as he always does.

[fine-prints]

CORDUROY (CORD) FALTO

Faltō (masc.), derived from the Roman meaning; 1. falcon

No Plan – Hozier 🎵

Faceclaim: Austin Butler Age: 32 Gender: Cis-man Home: Capitol Role: Capitol journalist Personality: Inquisitive, curious, headstrong, confident, persistent, driven

PART III: CHARACTER BIOGRAPHY

Corduroy Falto was the shining epitome of privilege. He lived a comfortable life in the Capitol, especially those who called the districts their home, albeit “upper-middle class” distinction from those Capitolites who frequented upscale shops and restaurants. There was no one in particular that made Corduroy feel embarrassed about his upbringing, but if you asked him he would say “the pervasive culture of Capitol-born citizens cast a long shadow, and I, not one blessed by the golden glow they stand in, must make do.” He spent his time befriending books and librarians, preferring the quiet rows of knowledge to the more hollow, empty chatter held at parties. Well – that was his assumption, his stereotyping of his fellow citizens. He knew there was privilege being born in the Capitol where food was endless and bountiful, and he never had to work a truly hard day, no matter how tired he was. Only rumors and whispered talk of true life in the districts got to him, because he knew the dissemination of information about them was carefully curated. He was meant to believe the districts were essential to the survival of Panem, that their gift of labour was shared, not forcefully taken. Corduroy was aware of the political game at play from a young age, when he realized asking questions could get him in trouble, so instead he learned how to gain knowledge eavesdropping or reading between the lines.

Once he was old enough to make his own choices, Cord sought out journalism. He knew if he wanted to rise in the ranking of “in the know,” he had to play the game. It meant writing pieces that made President Snow look humanitarian and the districts seem – voluntary (how ironic). Still, Cord was not entirely sure he stood with the districts nor against them. He knew that if the Capitol translated the truth, anything coming out of the districts could be just as manipulated. Maybe they weren’t starving to death or working double shifts for minimal pay, but they were the ones sacrificed in the name of “remembrance” and that wasn’t something Cord could overlook. No matter the frills President Snow tried to decorate the districts with, it couldn’t take the stench away.

In the aftermath of the rebellion, Cord knows his position is even more precarious than ever. He’s made it to the high ranks of the Capitol’s best newspaper and has worked many years curating intended messaging – the Capitol is the heart of Panem and district rebellion will cause the entire downfall of humanity, etc etc. He’s seen many rebellion Propos, as well as those commissioned by President Snow, and finds himself even more determined to let truth reign. As a young boy he was never quite sure what to believe but in the wake of the arena bombing and the rebellion Propos, he finds himself siding even more with the districts. While he knows getting the truth out does not come quick or easily (especially being a Capitolite), he’s in the middle of trying to come up with crafty ways to send out messages. If they know they have some help on the “other side”, will it forgive the immediate distrust of his birthright? Will he ever be able to overcome his upbringing in the name of helping the rebellion?

[seasaltsurvivor]

Idol doesn't mean your doll to f*ck with

FINNICK ODAIR. VICTOR. 62ND HUNGER GAMES.

PLAYLIST | PINTEREST | TIMELINE

Name: Finnick Odair

Age: 28

Gender: Cis man, he/him

Home: District 4, Capitol

Role: Victor

Personality: Clever, strategic, charismatic, warm, skeptical, loyal

Song: Tidal - Noah Kahan

Faceclaim: Brenton Thwaites

OVERVIEW

TW - Sexual assault, human trafficking, murder, substance abuse 

Finnick Odair was born the only child to Calder Odair and Maristella Larson of District 4. The couple met shortly after finishing school. Calder was a dock worker. and Maristella, who preferred to go by Stell, was a teacher. Maristella’s walk to work took her past the docks each day and Calder made sure he was always close enough to the road to bid her a quick, polite “good morning.” It took months, but he eventually managed to muster up enough courage to ask her to have dinner with him. Stell, of course, said yes.

Finnick had a typical childhood with caring and attentive parents. He wanted for nothing. Finnick was a rather popular kid; his bright personality awarded him many friends. After school he, like many children in the career districts, took lessons at The Academy, learning basic survival and combat skills. He excelled in agility and close-contact combat training, but he certainly did not enjoy it. He much preferred to learn about the docks and the ocean from his dad. Though his father worked long hours in a very physically demanding job, Calder was a devoted husband and father who taught his son everything he knew, especially about the docks and the sea.

Finnick was barely 15 when his name had been pulled, and no one believed he would be the one to make it out of the arena, himself included. It was unheard of even for the career districts. His knot-tying ability and knife skills earned him a decent score during training, but no amount of training could ever truly compensate for size and strength, two things many of his opponents had on him. As such, many of his fellow tributes failed to consider him a serious threat. It wasn’t until they witnessed his handiwork with a trident that people started to pay attention. After several bloody battles, Finnick earned the title of victor, the youngest in Panem’s history.

The first six months following his victory, Finnick lived in a daze as he tried to make sense of what had just happened. He had lived. He wasn’t supposed to live, and yet here he was. Everyone wanted to get to know the youngest victor, and he spent a lot of time in the public eye in the few years following. His entire life was splashed on the front page of every magazine. No one could get enough of the boy from District 4. 

He got the call the day after his 18th birthday. “Entertaining” capitol citizens, as President Snow had phrased it, was the duty of a victor. That was his job, and he was to follow through. He tried to protest at first, ignoring all the warnings. When his parents passed from a mysterious illness diagnosed by a Capitol physician, Finnick knew. He gave up the fight.

Calder and Stell’s deaths hit Finnick hard. Between the grief of his loss, the scars from the arena, and the Capitol’s continued torment, he struggled to hold it together. On bad nights locked away in hotel rooms bigger than his home in Victor’s Village, when the anxiety started getting too familiar and the insomnia hit, it was hard to keep himself away from the Capitol’s steady supply of morphling and expensive liquor. It wasn’t sustainable, however, and Finnick could see that turning to drugs and alcohol was hurting him. Every now and then, however, it was still nice to have something to dampen out all the noise, but he would keep it to himself in shame.

Over time, and with the help of his found family, Finnick got his feet back under him and he was able to find some semblance or normalcy again. Having worked out a schedule with Snow, he split his time fairly equally between District 4 and the Capitol, returning as a mentor every summer and for one week a month outside of the Games. He meets with clients as determined by Snow and attends various Capitol events, interviews, etc.

When Annie Cresta won the 70th Games, things began to change for Finnick. For the first time in the 8 years since winning his own games, he felt that maybe there was still good in the world. The two fell in love slowly and eventually brought a little boy into the world, named Caspian Calder, after two of the most influential people in their lives. Due to the expectations from the Capitol, Finnick and Annie have had to keep their son and their relationship a secret from the rest of Panem.

When the rebellion began, Finnick was an active participant, ready to fight for a safer world for his family. He is currently in District 13 supporting the rebel cause through his participation in propos and (eventually) serving on missions.

[reblrths]

𝙽𝙾𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙱𝚄𝚁𝙽𝚂 like the cold. finch delval, district five.

➶ did you see them?! they’re finally back as a mentor, and you know they’re one of my favourites! it’s finch delval, the thirty-four year old winner of the seventy-sixth hunger games! i’m just so excited to see them returning to the capitol all the way from district five! they won their games using hydroelectric turbines so their tributes will no doubt be desperate for their wisdom. the capitol just loved them for being so resolute, even if they have been known to be mercurial at times. they do have a relative in this year's games ( nephew ) and they did volunteer to go into the arena with them. ( character is part of the uprising )

BASICS.

name: finch delval

age: thirty-four

gender / pronouns: demi woman, they/she

home: district five

countenance: tattoos on right arm in attempt to cover large scarring, multiple small silvery scars on cheeks, forehead, through eyebrow, etc. little scars on knuckles, missing pinky and ring finger on right hand.

faceclaim: roberta colindrez

BIOGRAPHY.

tw: mention of fighting, suicidal thoughts, death, drowning, gore, science stuff that i KNOW is definitely not right but for the sake of my sanity and laziness and plots, we're going to pretend it is <3

you are born into the district for power yet the irony of that does not hit you until you are much later. though it is wealthier than the other non-career districts and the tesserae is not as utilized here, you hate it all the same. you hate the schooling, you hate your inevitability of working at one of the plants that power panem, you hate the insisting from your parents that you be more just as they were. they were classically proud of themselves and their role in helping create the solar plant at the heart of your district -- you should strive to contribute something of that stature as well. but there are expectations put on you that are not put on your older brother, wren, and you spent your whole life bitter about it. you butt heads constantly, and even if you know you cannot live up to him, you love him wholeheartedly. you earned your first bruises and scars from the glass bottle to the face while defending him. though while he seems to be perfect and can do no wrong, he aces anything he does in the first try, where you struggle more than anything. so you don't try at all.

what you are good at are not skills that can help you. you see the world in red – blinding anger towards all that is wrong, all that is wrong with you. you busy yourself, bruise your fists, but it's messy. you leave trails of blood, the smallest thing can set you off and you quickly earn a reputation in the district. but you are as determined as are you reckless. somehow, it is not a shock to you when your name is called at the reaping. you aren't happy for it, but it seems just your luck -- your brother, going all six years without his name called, but you’re two years out from being clear when you are thrust into the capitol. you always did think those things were rigged, anyway. you try not to feel too smug at the idea of snow deeming you a problem that needs taking care of. shoulders squared and refusing to cower, you walk up to that stage. you have no real skill for this, baseless knowledge from this stupid fucking district and unless that arena has anything to do with solar panels, you're fucking dead. but you won't let them get you -- you’re a connoisseur when it comes to digging your own grave, alright.

your mentors quickly learn there is no getting through to you and they focus on your district partner instead. your attitude is hardly manageable and any advice they try to give is met with a remark simply for the chance to be contradictory. your interview with caesar practically ensures no sponsors step forth for you and you are fairly certain you may have been the first person to get him to break his friendly persona on screen, as minute as it was. just a twitch of his lips, but your smug grin sealed your fate. you can hear wren yelling at you in your head, telling you to stop acting so fucking proud and try, but you simply cannot bring yourself to. how many kids have died during these games? what was one more on the mantel?

you picked up a few new skills in training but not enough to help you survive, not enough to retain. you are better in close combat which doesn't surprise you, but you aren't flawless by any means. brute force does not equal skilled combat. you cannot help but think wren would be better here, he might have a chance to win. he'd be able to throw these stupid fucking knives and start a fire with no problem. but because it's you, because you shun any help that might be offered because you won't look weak in front of the other tributes, you suffer by your own hand.

as it turns out, you didn't need to learn how to build a fire or forage or any of that stupid shit. because when you step into that tube, it goes down instead of up.

underwater. the arena is underwater -- you can see it surrounding you. it is almost submarine-like, where the cornucopia is. 24 of you stand under a large metal dome, covering the top and the sides, the light is killing you, but there is glass, too, and you can see the blue from here -- and on each side of the dome are four parallel entry ways that lead to god knows what. you cannot swim and you debate stepping off of the platform entirely because there's no possible way you're winning these games. couldn't they be outside like the games before you, and the games before that? who cares about double victors, you just want to be able to put what little tricks you learned to use. but the countdown beats you to it and you refuse to be killed by anyone other than yourself.

you don't go for the cornucopia, you run to the closest of the four entrances. it's like a never-ending hall until it opens up and even then, you keep running. it takes you forever to find somewhere safe, somewhere you think no one will find you. you regret your decision almost immediately -- no water, despite being surrounded by it, no food, no weapons, just metal. metal and bright lights and you feel like you're going fucking crazy. you're far enough away from the noise of the bloodbath that when the cannons begin to sound you wonder how much time has passed. eight tributes.

what started as living out of spite turns into spiraling as you wait for someone to find you, really. or for the game makers to do you a favor (ha!). you sit and wonder what the other entrances lead to and if you just happened to pick the unluckiest one, the dead end. how big was this arena? how do the sponsors get their gifts in? how do you get out? you ran for what felt like forever. you know you sabotaged yourself -- you refused help at every point, you made a spectacle of your hatred every step of the way, and now you're stuck. if snow wanted you gone, he didn't need to try very hard.

you think you're going crazy as you begin looking out of one of the glass windows, seeing if anything could possibly help you outside of this arena -- and then you hear it. you stick your ear against the metal and then you feel it. the vibrations, the low thrum. you perk up immediately, remembering days spent shadowing your parents at work and learning about these stupid power plants at school because they won't teach you anything of actual value. of course, of course. how could they keep this arena powered? those bright lights, those fucking lights.

you have to find the power source. you feel dumbstruck by this information and a newfound will to live; an arena that should have been your downfall and you have possibly found a way to use it to your advantage.

when you find it, it nearly kills you -- no one was supposed to be able to find it, that's for sure. you get lucky, only fighting when necessary and stealing what you can to manage. you find out what the other entrances lead to; doors open at inopportune times, flooding certain sectors and taking anyone who gets in the way of the water with it. the mutts that enter with the water are deadly -- piranhas, sharks, you think that the gamemakers even make the water full of toxins at some points -- you learn that the hard way while watching one of the tributes drink some of the overspill from afar and they drop dead after a coughing fit. and sometimes, the water doesn't go down. you watch on the other side as doors close and don't open until a cannon sounds. you aren't sure if there's even a chance for the tribute to survive that.

you're able to flood the sectors yourself when you find it; two days it took you. two days and you're dying of dehydration, bloody from fighting and running, you're missing two fingers and your right arm is limp and unusable, covered in red. but you're determined as you are reckless. you'll destroy this whole fucking arena if you have to. you kill nearly all of the remaining victors with your floods, and at some point you watch the cornucopia itself begin to fill because she finds you.

the last tribute, a brunette career from district four whose name you never bothered to remember because you didn't think you'd be alive this long, and you think this is it. she can swim, you can't, and you're going to die and watch your blood swim away from you in the rising water. you swing and swing and swing aimlessly, warding her off, panic rising in you as the dome fills steadily and surely. you make it on top of the cornucopia as you run from her, and you've got a few good hits in, she's just as bloody, you bitterly think the capitol must love this. or maybe they don't -- you haven't seen a game this short in your lifetime, three days total, but if they don't love it -- why didn't the gamemakers stop you? they must be eating this up. they'll surely want something longer, but they'll just have to wait until next year.

there's a machete in your good hand and she can't climb after you but she can grab you. you twist, watching as she tries and tries to pull you down with her and you swing as hard as you can when you feel the water nipping at your ankles. you feel her hand go slack for a moment when the machete finds the side of her neck. you feel the blood make contact with your own body and when one of those mutt piranhas drags her into the depths of the rising water, you climb frantically to the top of the cornucopia.

the first thing you do is breathe. you stare up at the metal dome and listen as the water recedes away, dehydrated and on the brink of death because of it, bloody and so incredibly fucking lucky. the second thing you do is laugh. you laugh until your lungs hurt, because this feels wrong -- the last cannon sounds and you are crowned victor. you laugh and laugh and laugh. you did not win from sponsor gifts or charming personality, skilled combat or any survival skill at all -- you won because of your knowledge from the district you hated. the irony of it all continues to make you laugh -- you should be dead. perhaps your parents were right all along.

you learn quickly that the president is not happy with you and your stunt. your victory tour is hell, you are faced with the reality of being a victor and you think perhaps it might have been better to die in that arena after all. these people who hated you three days ago now act as though you are something special and lovely and something to fawn over. you prove quickly you are not. wren has a son whose mother dies in childbirth, your parents pass their wealth between you both (you give it all to wren, you have more money than you need). your awful attitude never changes over the years, always finding some way to defy -- and for this reason, it's your fault when he dies.

it's claimed a freak accident at the plant he works at, but you know the truth. he was too careful. you saw the fury in snow's eyes on your tour, even on amp's tour -- you know this is your warning. in the end, snow wins.

you raise the nephew -- lark, because this family is very original -- that looks too much like his father and acts too much like his father and he's fourteen when he's reaped. fuck flooding an arena -- you want to flood the mansion snow sits pretty in. even if you argue and butt heads with lark as you would with wren, you're more sister than aunt, hardly even a parental figure at all, but -- you volunteer as soon as you're able. there is no doubt in your mind you will leave this arena limp and lifted out, especially when you've already proven you have no skills except dumb luck and stubbornness. lark is your responsibility -- he is affected by your reputation already.

your first time going into the arena, you defied at every chance you got because you did not think it was worth saving your own life to go back to one that was hardly desirable anyway. now, you have to try -- for him.

PINTEREST | PLAYLIST

++

WANTED CONNECTIONS

secret ???? affair/love/whatever: finch is NOT liked by the capitol and they aren't fond of the capitol themself, they've earned a reputation that is sure to hurt the other person's if caught around them. angst. thanks

mentor friends: finch is also shockingly an awful mentor considering everything that has happened is pure happenstance for them, sponsors definitely don't fw them. someone to help finch mentor their tributes and actually try to get them to win LMAO

enemies/haters: let this bitch fight ok

friends: if you can stomach them. yeah

[sterlingwhitvale]

BASICS

Faceclaim: Brandon Sklenar

Name: Sterling Whitvale

Age: 34

Gender: Cis Man

Home: District 8

Role: Civilian/Rebel

Personality: Bullheaded, protective, self punishing, adaptive, analytical, cynical, and direct

Song: Black Hole Sun by Sound Garden

BIOGRAPHY

The name Sterling conjures images of shining silver, splendor, wealth.  But Sterling’s life has only ever been covered in grime.  In soot.  In dirt, sweat, blood, tears.  Although he had been trained to stop shedding the latter years ago.  Like most in District 8, his family was not wealthy, and they worked in the mills that supplied the great folks of the Capitol and favored districts with their expensive frocks, and the rest of Panem with their rags.  His mother and sister worked on the handmaid items, working their deft fingers to the bone with intricate stitching and complicated beading, while his father worked on the line for the more mass produced items.  Sterling, with an innate skill and interest in the workings of machines, became the intern for the machinist at the mill that produced the peace keeper’s uniforms, putting in his four hours of work after school every day.  

It wasn’t a pleasant existence, too poor to make any upward strides and too tired from work to find another way to do so, but his family got by.  That is until the 53rd hunger games.  On the day of the reaping, his sister was exactly one week, only 168 hours from being 22, no longer eligible for the hunger games.  And their parents, despite not having much, thought of themselves as having enough, so never let their children put their names in for tesserae.  But in a--and this phrase is so lacking to describe the devastation--bout of bad luck, Stella’s name was plucked from that god damn stupid bowl, and she was plucked from their lives, just like that.  

They were supposed to have three years of calm, with Stella finally being over 21 and Sterling having 3 years before he was 15 and eligible to be reaped.  But fate was a cruel bitch, and snatched those three years from their hands right as they reached for it.  Sterling loved his sister dearly, but she was not meant for the harsh realities of the hunger games (although, who is, really?).  Her hands were meant for making beautiful things, not to hold a weapon.  Her eyes were used to narrowing in on fine details, not scanning for threats.  And even at the young age of 12, as he hugged his big sister, begging for her to stay, as if she had a choice, Sterling knew that she wouldn’t survive the games.  

She survived for awhile simply by hiding.  But between lack of sponsors and supplies, she grew weak and tired and ill, and after being spotted by a career, young Sterling watched with wide eyes and a gnawing in his stomach as his sister was slaughtered on the screen in front of him.  That gnawing feeling has never left him, a constant reminder of the injustice, of the macabre and demented way of their society. 

The week before his very first reaping, Sterling was determined to never have to stand in the plaza in front of the justice building, waiting to see if his own life would be sold to the capitol in exchange for a small period of entertainment. So he took advantage of his position at work, manufacturing a complication with a machine at the mill, so he and his mentor would have to stay late to fix it.  Leaving the factory that produced the peace keeper suits empty of workers and practically empty of guards.  He stuffed a suit into his rucksack, and made for the door.  His plan?  Wear it to the border, to where district 8 bordered 12 and then bordered free land.  He had heard all the rumors to keep people from trying to make it out there, but he didn’t believe a word of it.  And even if they did turn out to be true, it’d be better than having to face a reaping year after year, always wondering if it was his turn to have his golden string of life cut short by those damn three hags known as the fates. 

But his mentor Aloysius, caught his wrist, and without saying a word, took his rucksack and returned the stolen suit.  He knew something Sterling didn’t, and that was the fact that the quarterly inventory would be taken just the next day, which would have left Sterling with nowhere near enough time to get far enough away before they found out a suit was stolen.  So his plan was thwarted, but the rebellion that had started in his gnawing gut had not been extinguished, and in fact started to make it’s way under his skin, into his beating heart, and would lie dormant within him until it was needed. 

Every year, during the games, he could feel it, burning in him, but it really only started to roar some 9 years after that fateful night, when at 24, after a grueling 16 hours trying to fix the turbine for the biggest mill in the district, he almost quite literally ran into Cecilia.  He wouldn’t tell her this until some time in to their relationship, but he recognized her instantly.  Not from the games themselves, as he refused to watch, but the reaping.  It was his second to last year of eligibility, and he remembered having to wipe the one rogue tear that ran down his cheek as he watched the coverage of her young brothers holding on to her, remembering when he had done the same to his own sister.  

Loving her was finally what awoke that smoldering rebellion inside of him, and fanned it until it became a flame.  Seeing the disgusting hold the capitol had on the woman he loved and being unable to do anything about it made him want to burn it all down.  That fervor only increased as their family grew from the two of them, to three, to four, and finally five.  He knew no amount of submission to Snow and the capitol could keep their children safe.  The thought of them, standing in front of the justice building, waiting to hear if their names would be called, made him sick to his stomach.  And he refused to let that happen.  While his heart screamed rebellion, he knew in his gut that he would do whatever it took, even if that meant reverting to his plan of some 17 years ago, stealing peacekeeper suits and sneaking them all past the district border. 

He stupidly said as much in a drunken state to someone at a tavern, and for once luck was on Sterling and his family’s side.  Not only was the person not someone to turn a person in for that blasphemy against the capitol, but they were someone who felt the same, and were connected to the startings of a group of rebels inside District 8.  Between Sterling’s fervor for the cause and his access to the capitol through his wife and the ridiculousness of the capitol’s obsession with their family, Sterling has proven himself to be a helpful member of the cause.

Now, he just needs to get his wife and kids out of the capitol and it’s crosshairs before it’s too late. 

[capkea]

Introducing ;; Marius Sequin

---------No, it's not wrong, but it's not right

Faceclaim: Danny Ramirez Name: Marius Sequin Age: 33 Gender: Cis-male Home: Capitol Role: Owner and inventor of Capkea Personality: Inventive, creative, entrepreneur, straight-forward, humored, practical, easy-going, well-read, outspoken Song: Ode To The Mets - The Strokes Activity: Secondary muse

CHARACTER BIOGRAPHY

trigger warning: cheating

Coming from the suburbs of the Capitol, where money wasn’t flowing as grandly as it did through the hands of the elite, Marius quickly picked up the skill of noticing and providing the people’s needs. At an early age it started easy; selling lemonade on the sidewalk when the days were hot, to selling candies on the playground. Cards for approaching holidays or his mother’s home-made fudge when the days of mugs of hot cocoa arrived. He developed a skill that led him to become one of the biggest business magnets in Panem; creating an affordable furniture-line that the common people of the Capitol would purchase en masse; adding some exclusive items for the elite who wished to be part of the hype - leading to a world where every household had at the very least one product in their home approved by Marius Sequin. 

But Marius did not grow to be an arrogant man. He had quite the humble family; a wife, Lydia, who was much too involved in current media - effected by all the current trends. Two young daughters who already seemed to follow closely into their mother’s footsteps. Marius is happy to provide and doesn’t mind to spoil ( what other purpose does an abundance of money have if not to spoil your family? ). It all seemed like the dream of success had caught up on him nicely and he played the part that came with it wonderfully. However, boredom lured in corner. He wishes for something new, something fresh. A new challenge to inspire him. 

EXTRA DETAILS

-I saw some wanted connections out for friendships. Other capitol boys looking for a friend are welcome to come and do some plotting with me to establish a relationship. -Marius is not the most domestic, loyal husband - anyone interested in writing out (past or future) affairs with him, feel free to come plot about it!

[embersofhope-if]

I was told that for some, it's hard to read these since they're images, so here I'm going to put what it says under the cut! I'm sorry if this caused issues for anyone<3

Aurelius / Aurelia Weaver: The District Partner

My district partner. I don't know them that well, especially after they dropped out of school at sixteen to work full-time in the factories. I'm not entirely sure what I did to them to warrant the looks of pure disgust and anger they threw my way after that, but now things have changed. They asked to be the other tribute for District 8 and now standing in front of them and looking into their eyes all I can see is a predator looking at its prey. They are going to kill me and they're going to enjoy it.

Profile I.

full name - Aurelius / Aurelia Hadwin Weaver age - Eighteen gender/pronouns - Female, She/her: Male, He/him sexuality - Straight birthplace - District 8, Panem residence - District 8, Panem languages spoken - English height - 183 cm / 6'0" ft weight - 79 kg / 175 lbs hair color - Dark Brown eye color - Hazel faceclaim - problematicfemm / Daryl Umoh voiceclaim - Yanni King / Brandon Scott

Connections II.

Bellamy Weaver - Mother | Deceased Ansel Weaver - Father | Deceased Yarrow Weaver - Sister | Deceased

Personality III.

Aurel is the very definition of a pillar of strength. They are fiercely independent, stubborn, resilient, embodying almost every quality of a true leader and a source of pride in District 8. Ever since we were children, people have always looked to Aurel for guidance and direction. It's easy to miss, especially when they are so focused on playing the role of a leader, but if caught in just the right moment, you can see that all they want is to let someone else take the lead. Despite these hidden desires, Aurel's unwavering commitment to their role stays strong. If I live, they fail not only just the people of District 8, but they fail themselves too. Aurel swore to everyone, including me, that they're going to be the one who kills me, and with that look in their eye, I don't think they ever plan on giving up that goal.

Positive IV.

• Independent • Decisive • Resourceful

Hobbies V.

• Birdwatching • Reading • Woodworking

Negative VI.

• Apathetic • Evasive • Uncommunicative

Fears VII.

• Public Speaking • Fire • Inability to Escape

Backstory VIII.

Me and Aurel have never really had much interaction with each other. The first time we had ever spoken to each other, we were about seven years old, and I ended up being their dance partner in our gym class. I could tell that they really didn't want to dance, but for some reason, they seemed to perk up whenever they found out who they were assigned to. I was good, and they were awful, but neither one of us cared. Anything was better than being sat in a classroom all day. I remember both of us promising to be each other's partner again, but that never happened. We didn't speak to each other much after that. They seemed happy, healthy; or as healthy as they could be, and had plenty of friends surrounding them. We never had any need to speak to each other. Just a few shy smiles were more than enough for the both of us. As time went on and we got older, Aurel had, unsurprisingly, became a symbol of strength throughout the District. That may have been part of the reason they got along so well with Ash, both being a symbol of hope and strength for the rest of District 8. Even after Ash died, Aurel's strength never wavered, and they became District 8's soul symbol of hope for the future. For a while, it felt like they vanished. I never saw them anywhere; no matter what time of day or where I was, it felt like they just stopped existing. Ash died, and then suddenly they were everywhere. It honestly started to feel like the moment Ash disappeared from my life, Aurel started to exist again. I have no idea why or how they knew where I was going to be, but they did. Maybe I should've been concerned or freaked out by it but at the time I didn't have enough energy to care about anything, least of all why Aurel Weaver decided to walk down the same street as me everyday. Five months later, tragedy struck our District. A devastating fire engulfed one of our factories, claiming countless lives, including Aurels parents and sister. It almost killed Aurel themselves, too. I was one of the first people to notice the fire and managed to pull Aurel and a couple others out. Even as everyone worked tirelessly to save those in the factory, there was one painful truth that we were all trying to ignore - we couldn't save everyone. I still remember the way Aurel clung to me, desperately begging me to go back and save their sister. Just as I had started to run back to try and find her, the factory roof collapsed, crushing any hope of reaching those still trapped inside. After that night, Aurel vanished again, and this time, I knew that they were doing it on purpose. I would catch glimpses of them occasionally, but anytime they noticed, I was always met with a cold glare. For the next two years, that was the only interaction we had. Even as they were convincing the rest of the District to send them to the Games, we never once had a conversation. Now, Aurel Weaver, once again, is fully existing in my life. I just wish that their reason for being here wasn't because they're going to be the one who kills me.

Playlist ♧ Aurels Board ♧ Mc & Aurel Board

[felixravinstills]

any thoughts on Felix and Livia growing up together? I tend to imagine them as their year’s “prom king”/“prom queen” archetypes — at some point, people might have thought they’d end up together (mostly for status reasons), but in reality they can’t stand each other. they probably find some of the same people (like Snow?) annoying though lol

btw, have been enjoying your Ravinstill fics a lot! I was curious if you hc’d anyone playing the role of first lady during Maximinius’s tenure — I have a weird hc where it’s actually his niece (like how a few unmarried/widowed US presidents have had a daughter/daughter-in-law/niece become the “hostess” in place of a first lady, though I also imagine that this is somewhat more gender-neutral in Panem), but was wondering if you had anything in mind

This is about to be so long. My ability to ramble about made-up Ravinstills went out of control. I apologize:

Livia and Felix

I do touch on some thoughts on Felix and Livia's relationship growing up in Chapter 6 of Close Your Eyes. I shall summarize the gist of it while pointedly ignoring my oc, because ocs aren't always everyone's thing.

Oh, I'm big on Felix and Livia being unable to stand each other! I do have the world's nichest interpretation of Livia though, so um, just walk with me. A lot of people who are charitable to Livia make her a schemer. I don't really do this. Instead, I characterize her as a sheltered, hopeless romantic who has good instincts about people but who due to being sheltered/rich is also rather self-centered and unaware of how this affects her relationship with others. Felix is also in my mind sheltered but much more aware of how he's presenting himself to others. As such, when Livia's just not trying to listen to him or pick up on clues that she's overstepping, they get off on a bad foot as kids and this continues into their teen years.

On Felix's part, I do think that he's a little jealous of how free my interpretation of Livia is with how little she cares about other people's opinions. A large part of my Felix characterization is that he is very conscious of his image as a Ravinstill, even though in his mind, I imagine that Maximinius Ravinstill tries to raise him with the attitude of letting him do whatever as long as Felix understands the basics of how to behave to maintain power, but unfortunately, the President has like the worst communication skills with his family specifically.

In my worldbuilding, Felix isn't as antagonistic to Snow as in other people's, but I can imagine that Felix and Livia could present a united front against more nouveau riche Capitolites if those people are specifically taunting them. Personally, in my mind, Felix is more likely to stay out of arguments unless they purposefully affect people close to him. If he accidentally starts an argument (due to general Capitolite haughtiness or Ravinstill superiority complex), he'll probably just leave to avoid potentially making a fool of himself or backpedal as hard as possible (what he should have said haunts him for weeks).

Okay, tl;dr, while everyone probably thinks it would have been nice to tie the Ravinstills and Cardews together, in my worldbuilding, it's obvious to everyone those two don't get along from their first few meetings.

Acting First Lady For Pres. Ravinstill's Tenure

Hmmm. First Lady during Maximinius' tenure... Well, if you don't count Gaul, because both Maximinius and everyone is just refusing to acknowledge the weird partnership, pseudo-marriage, whatever they have going one, then I think his sister-in-law probably steps up for a bit, and then the responsibility falls to one of his nieces once they have a falling out. (I imagine that being so work-first and with many a rumor swirling that you've murdered people to gain power does a number on your familial relations if they aren't as ruthless as you.)

I actually give him two nephews and two nieces (three of them have spouses). His first nephew is the family heir, his first niece is the spare/first nephew's right hand guy. Felix's father is the third child and he's busy being head-empty, no-thoughts just an all-around nice without a political bone in his body guy, so in my world, hosting probably falls to his youngest niece who I characterize as a bit of a scandal (we are fully in my extended Ravinstill family tree lore oh no). She has a kid out of wedlock, but I imagine that this does motivate her to be closer to power so that her kid is harder to ostracize later. (her attempts are futile. she and her kid are the first Ravinstills to die after Maximinius' brother). After her, I imagine that the role of host largely falls back on the President with the help of his Communications Secretary. Felix tries to help as a kid, but he's a kid, so all he does is shepherd some of the other kids and tells them to stop running in the halls. At home, hall monitor.

Anyway, thanks for the ask! This got very long!

[katamount]

The Gamemakers appeared early on the first day. Twenty or so men and women dressed in deep purple robes.

 Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games, chapter 7 

Purple robes sound creepy in a Handmaid’s Tale sort of way. More to the point, in imperial Rome, only the elites were allowed to wear purple. And I appreciate how Collins’ dystopia is notable for a fair amount of gender equity. Here Katniss observes that both men and women serve as Gamemakers. Also in this chapter, Katniss notes that the head trainer is a woman: 

“As soon as we join the circle, the head trainer, a tall, athletic woman named Atala steps up and begins to explain the training schedule.”

But when it comes to Gamemakers, in a brief search of images from the movie, I couldn’t identify any who definitely appear to be a woman. (At first I thought the one whose hair is visible just over Seneca’s shoulder might be a woman, but at other angles, it looks like a man. This furthers my feeling that Gary Ross may be sexist, since the text tells us that some of the Gamemakers are women.) 

[dionysus-and-the-bacchantes]

tips for classics majors

from a second-year classics major. i’ve acquired these tips from my seven years of being a latin student and one year of ancient greek. 

this post can be helpful for classics majors or people interested in self-teaching the classics. my concentration within my major is language and literature, so my tips will revolve around latin and greek. but if you’re studying any other ancient or modern language, my tips may still apply to you :)

~ make word associations. this is a BIG one. there are many nuances to this tip, so to start, i’ll explain why associations are useful, and then i’ll give several examples with different variations to cover the nuances. 

since many english words, prefixes, and suffixes are derived from both latin and greek, take the time to figure out one or two english words that come from each new word you learn - these can either be normal everyday english words or pop culture references. (also, latin is semi-derived from greek, so you can make associations between the two languages as well). if you learn any kind of word association, it will make remembering the word so much easier.

examples: 

pop culture: pane, which means bread in latin, is related to The Hunger Game’s city of Panem (panem is the accusative singular of pane). food insecurity is a big theme in The Hunger Games, therefore Panem is an appropriate name for the city that the series takes place in. 

latin/greek to english: in latin, vicina is an adjective meaning “close, neighboring,” and its english derivative is “vicinity.” in greek, παιδευω means “i teach” and its english derivative is “pedagogy” - aka “a method/practice of teaching.” κριτης means “judge” and its english derivatives are “critic, criticize” and “critical.” 

greek to latin to greek: sometimes it’s tricky to find out which word came from which language first, but usually it’s greek to latin. example: dea (“goddess” in latin) comes from θεα in greek.

think of those word associations as you learn your ancient language vocab. it will make recalling a word’s meaning so much easier. 

anD DON’T FORGET TO LEARN THE GENDER AND THE GENITIVE SINGULAR OF EACH NOUN YOU LEARN BECAUSE IT HELPS WHEN DECLINING THE NOUN AND MATCHING IT UP WITH ADJECTIVES LATER ON OH MY GOD thiS IS SO IMPORTANT

~ make a concentrated effort to remember lots of different sentence constructions. there are so many i literally don’t remember them all and i’ve been doing this for years. the major categories i can think of off the top of my head are subordinate clauses, conditionals, and indirect discourse, and, more generally, learn the difference between the primary and secondary verb tenses.

~ every so often, brush up on as much grammar and vocab as you can. i’m saying this because i’ve procrastinated reviewing greek all summer and i barely remember anything beyond the basics :/ pls don’t tell my professor. 

~ learn authors’ common themes and literary/rhetorical devices. for example: in the elegies of propertius, a roman poet, he used emptiness and unfulfilled wishes as motifs. learning words associated with emptiness and learning how to recognize the introduction of a wish made translating faster. i’ll confess though that i never really brushed up on the use of the optative subjunctive (the device used in wish statements), so i couldn’t recognize how exactly to translate certain sentence constructions. if i did review, it would have made translating in class a breeze. but hey, it was my first semester in college and i had no idea what i was doing at that level. please learn from my mistake! 

~ learn the political, cultural, and historical context of each piece of literature you read. it will make the experience richer. if you know the context of a fiction piece, whether its poetry or prose, you will understand so much more about it. for example: the aeneid, vergil’s masterpiece (and arguably one of the best works in latin literature), is an ode to augustus. augustus commissioned vergil to write the aeneid and to make comparisons between himself and the protagonist aeneas. he wanted people to see him like they saw aeneas - kind, pious, loyal, determined, and in charge. knowing that bit of information makes many parts of the aeneid clearer. you can apply this tip to any piece of literature, no matter the language.

this is also important in terms of non-fiction writing. i took a class on roman letter writers and i would’ve been completely lost if my professor didn’t share anything historical with us. these letter writers typically vaguely referenced local gossip because messengers often read letters that were meant only for the recipient’s eyes. my professor filled in a lot of what was missing from the letters themselves.

~ have fun with it. learning languages is supposed to be fun!! of course languages enrich your mind and bring you into close contact with other cultures and ways of life, but it is supposed to be fun too. example: propertius once wrote a whole poem about knocking on his lover Cynthia’s closed door while she sat inside... and the door was a metaphor for her vagina.... which means propertius was h0rny on main!! and he published that in a poem!!1! for people all over rome to read!!!! 

in terms of plays, my friend read one in latin by plautus about a prostitute who subverts the traditional roles associated with customer-prostitute relationships. he absolutely loved it bc the main character was a bad b!tch... and bc it was a comedic play. 

there are lots of metaphors and jokes written within latin and greek literature, so don’t be afraid to laugh :) it makes learning that much more enjoyable

~ when reading a work of literature, ask yourself what this reveals about the author’s culture. (suicide tw: mentions of su*cide as a plot point in tragedy) this tip is kinda related to the cultural context one, but different in that it looks for culture within literature, rather than looking at literature as a product of culture. and like the previous tip, you can apply this to any piece of literature no matter the language it is in. it’s important to think deeply a piece of literature as well as enjoy it for what it is. example: i’ve read most of sophocles’ plays and i can tell you that the greeks were very comfortable with suicide as a plot point. while murder is also common, suicide is much more common no matter the tragedy. the fact that this theme occurs throughout so many plays tells me that greeks viewed suicide as a tragic occurrence that affects people deeply, but also as a common way to die. it raises questions: what percentage of deaths were attributed to suicide in ancient greece? was it viewed as honorable or shameful? etc. 

and going back to vergil yet again (he’s my homeboy fr), when writing about dido and her people building the city of carthage, he specifically mentions that they are building the theaters first before almost any other building - and these few lines implicitly state that the arts were very important to carthage’s culture as a whole.

~ to sum it up: as a classics major, if you are intentional about learning the languages and truly engaged with the literature, the process will be that much more fun and you will gain that much more out of it. (<- and that sentence has a future-more-vivid construction by the way hehe)