User blog comment:Blissfully Mine/The 376th Hunger Games/@comment-24222500-20140927020130

Here, hope you like them! :3

Name: Artemis Harsha

Age: 13

District: 8

Gender: Female

Personality:  Artemis, on the outside, is the picture of innocence in every way. She is nice, cautious, generous, courteous, and kind. She is very quiet and bashful, often blushing and looking down at her feet, smiling cutely and being generally very shy around everyone. Lots of people can get along with her, but she is kind of independent in that she likes to be alone sometimes, and can be slightly introverted, living in her own mind.

However, living inside her mind, she can be very self-conscious and not very confident, and can let people’s words get to her head, telling herself that she’s nothing. She is a vry creative person just like the rest of her family, but she really wishes she wasn’t, because that’s what makes her depressed: her imagination. Living inside her head, she’s created a different reality to escape the horrors of the real world. She’s seen some horrible things in her past, and never wants to see them again, though she knows she will when she goes to the Hunger Games…

Appearance (Lunaii, for Tribute Gallery):

Weapon(s): Javelin/spear, needles

Backstory: Artemis was born in District 6, the last of the Harsha siblings. Maxwell Harsha, better known as Max, had been born first, then fragile little Freya, and finally Artemis. Together with their two parents they created a family with a very tight bond.

Artemis loved to play with other kids her age, and even Freya and Maxwell, though they were older than her. She never really understood what set apart from other kids, because as far as she knew, everyone was the same on the outside.

Until she reached first grade.

Artemis, unlike lots of children, was always excited for school, and she loved it. It was in first grade that other kids started to see how different Artemis was. While they played outside, Artemis would sit on a swing and gaze at the sky, lost in her thoughts.

Artemis also looked very different. She always wore her hair in two pigtails just like Freya, and by the time she reached third grade, all the other girls stopped doing that.

Artemis was set apart by looks and personality now, and she started to notice this. Her friends started to drift away from her, and she tried her best to still get along with the other kids, and she did, but it just wasn’t the same.

One day, she could hear them whispering about her. When she heard her name, she had hoped that they were saying how good of a student she was – getting all A’s – or how creative she was – thinking up new games for recess all of the time – but instead they had found the qualities she had once considered her best and turned them upside down, saying that they were flaws, and that Artemis was worthless.

Artemis went home crying that day, but her parents didn’t notice. They too had even been drifting away from Artemis, and even from Max and Freya, and the three knew that Freya was their favorite out of all three of them.

Artemis went to her room, and sat at her desk, drawing flowers on a piece of paper. She didn’t color them in, she only colored in the sky purple, and the clouds cotton-candy-pink and cotton-candy-blue. It was beautiful, she decided. The flowers could be made of paper, they were paper flowers.

Freya, being the most understanding and compassionate of the family secondly only to little Artemis herself, figured out in almost no time that something was wrong.

When Freya asked, Artemis told her, and took out all of her drawings of her imaginary world. Together, they formed a sort of collage.

“Does this imaginary world you made make you feel better when you think about it?” Freya asked.

Artemis nodded. “It can get my mind off of anything.”

“Why are the clouds pink and blue?” Freya asked out of curiosity as the two sisters taped the pictures to the wall to create a mural. Soon, they had to move to another wall of Artemis’ room. “And was the sky supposed to be a dark blue?”

“No, silly.” Artemis giggled. “The flowers are pure white because they’re paper flowers. The sky is purple because in my field of paper flowers, and candy clouds of lullaby, I lie inside myself for hours and watch my purple sky fly over me.”

Artemis didn’t know, but Freya could see it at once. This imaginary world may have been helping Artemis escape, but it was doing something to her mind. Something that wouldn’t turn out good.

<p class="MsoNormal">Freya tried to “help” Artemis make her imaginary world, by suggesting to add people to it, or tell it to her friends (which they both know she didn’t have), but Artemis always insisted on not doing so. So, Freya would help draw the field of paper flowers, and sometimes Max would come and help, too, since he too loved Artemis.

<p class="MsoNormal">When Artemis’ whole room was covered in the mural of her imaginary world, she started to become even more depressed. By then, she was in fourth grade, and without more room to create her imaginary world, she didn’t know what to do.

<p class="MsoNormal">One day, Freya came into Artemis’ room with a paper flower in her hands. Artemis loved it beyond words, and Freya taught Artemis how to fold them. Soon, they were all strung from her ceiling, and Max and Frey and Artemis would color them, except for the original one that Freya had given Artemis. She insisted on keeping it pure white, because it had a special value to her for some reason, even though it was just like the others.

<p class="MsoNormal">It was when Artemis realized that, that she also realized that she was that flower. The rest of the kids were the other paper flowers, all different colors of the rainbow on the inside, when they had drained her of her special color and left her as a blank slate on the inside.

<p class="MsoNormal">''Look what they’ve done. She thought, I wouldn’t be this way if they weren’t so mean.''

<p class="MsoNormal">One day, Artemis asked Freya to come talk to her in her room. Artemis was in sixth grade by now, and didn’t go to school. She shared homework with Freya as if she had skipped a grade, so she didn’t have to see the other kids. Her parents didn’t care about their children anymore, either.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Freya, why do you always wear your hair in pigtails?”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Well, I like to that way.” Freya answered. She was so independent and unafraid; Artemis wished she had been like that instead of what she had become.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Freya, I can’t anymore.”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Why not?”

<p class="MsoNormal">“Just listen. I trust you the most. Help me pack up my whole room – mural, flowers and all. I’m running away beyond the fence and to a different district.”

<p class="MsoNormal">Freya started to cry, but helped anyway. Artemis had a suitcase and a backpack full at the end, with the paper folded up into tiny squares.

<p class="MsoNormal">“Not all the flowers can fit.” Freya wiped some of her tears. “Which one do you like the most?”

<p class="MsoNormal">“The blank one. The one you made for me.” Artemis picked it up and put it in the safest pocket of her backpack. “Thank you.”

<p class="MsoNormal">Freya had tears in her eyes and all over her face, but she smiled anyway. “You’re welcome. Keep safe, Artemis.”

<p class="MsoNormal">The two hugged, and Artemis left that night. She made a run for the fence, and spent a few days out in the wilderness, before finding District (#). It was a new start for her. Everyone there was so different, and she found a child home that was actually very nice, which took her in quickly. When she was unpacking her mural and set her one flower on her nightstand, they realized she was a talented artist.

<p class="MsoNormal">So, Artemis painted her mural on one of the walls, purple sky, green field, cotton-candy clouds and all. But this time, she added a bright sun, because as far as she was concerned, her new start with new friends and people who cared for her was a bright light shining through her imaginary world. It almost made her want to leave her imaginary world, but she refused to. It had been her home for too long.

<p class="MsoNormal">Just when Artemis thought the painting was complete, she knew it wasn’t. So, she drew herself holding her one paper flower in one hand, and Freya’s hand in her other. She painted Freya with tears in her eyes, but a smile at the end. They were holding hands; two sisters, but this time, both with their hair in pigtails.

Strengths: Artemis is very good with survival skills, and is very intelligent, along with being a very fast runner.

Weaknesses:  Artemis isn’t very stealthy, is a bit clumsy, and ishorrible with bravery (if she sees the tiniest bit of blood it can make her feel woozy)

Token (Optional): A paper flower that Freya folded for her.

Alliance: Young or nice tributes, anyone who requests.

Reaped/Volunteered: Reaped

~

<p style="margin-top:0.4em;margin-bottom:0.5em;">Name: Favian Thread

Age: 15

District: 8

Gender: Male

Personality: Favian is very shy and quiet when you first meet him, and can get embarrassed easily. While he is shy and quiet, he actually likes being around people. It makes him feel safer and more secure, and even if he doesn't say anything or act happy, he is probably joyed to have someone around. He does like to talk, but is scared of making other people bored. He's very self-concious, worrying about if people are judging him or if they think he's annoying, and he is very careful, polite, and smart. Even if he doesn't realize it, he is very good to have as a friend, as he gets very attatched to friends or other people he likes, and he is not afraid to defend them. He relies on other people a bit too much sometimes. He's the kind of person that will cry if someone he loves is crying, before he even knows the reason.

Appearance (Lunaii, for Tribute Gallery):

Weapon(s): Favian likes to use double/twin swords since they make him feel more secure since he can swing two at once, but other than that likes the curved sword, or a spear, something similar to a needle like he used back in District 8.

Backstory: Favian's family lived in a small house in the slums of District 8. When Favian was born, they actually had a pretty good life. Both his parents had to go to work at the textile factories, and they brought Favian with them to make sure he was safe. When his little sister Fiora was born, Favian began to learn how to sew.

Sewing came easily to him, and he sewed and knitted lots of things, and could even sell them to people out on the streets if he could get their attention, since was a poor, begging little four-year-old boy. Soon, he taught Fiora how to sew, too.

The family grew poorer and poorer slowly, but soon they were so poor that Favian was hungry every day, with the lack of food being brought in. His parents tried to hide it from him as best they could, but it was no use. Favian knew that they were going to be kicked out of their house soon, and die. But, they didn't...

One fateful morning when Favian was 11 years old, and his sister was 8, Fiora stayed at home to do her sewing before trying to go sell it, and Favian waved goodbye to her and left with his parents for the textile factories. He had been working there for a year, and his life was busy with school and work.

When they got there, Favian started his work like he did every day he went to the factory, but the next thing he knew, there was an earth-shattering BOOM! like the cannons in the Hunger Games he had to watch each year, only this one was a lot larger and ''closer. ''Everything went black, and Favian drifted off.

The next thing he awoke to was hushed voices whispering in concerned voices, and he heard his name over and over among the jumble of words he heard. ''Where am I? ''He thought, and he sat up, opening his eyes, hoping that color would come back into the world and he would see what this was all about.

He did see... something. He didn't know what, but it was very blurry, and when he felt around he knew he was in a bed, in a place that must have been the hospital. Someone rushed over to him, and the only way he could tell gender was by her voice. "Favian is you're name, right?"

Favian nodded, squinting at the lady. "And you're a nurse?"

She nodded, and Favian blinked a few times to see if that would help his vision. His right eye felt weird and different, but he didn't know how.

"How's your vision?" The nurse asked with worry in her voice.

"Why do you ask?" Favian started to get worried. "My vision's blurry, but where are my parents, where--"

"There are only four survivors from the bomb." The nurse started to explain that someone had set up a bomb in the textile factory he was working at, and that was what the huge noise had been. The only known survivors were three little girls who had been walking by the textile factory at the time, and a boy, and that boy of course, was Favian.

"You've been asleep for a whole day." The nurse told him, "and you are very lucky to have survived. Even though you're alive, there has been some... damage."

She held up a mirror, and Favian screamed at what he saw. He had no right eye, only a left one. He started to cry, which hurt beyond measure due to his lost eye.

"If it makes you feel better... a little girl came in saying she needed to visit you. We told her you weren't ready for visitors yet, but she did drop something off. A bunch of money. 'To pay for Favian's visit here', she had said."

"What was her name?" Favian choked out from behind all of his crying.

"She said she was Fiora Thread."

Fiora was allowed to visit later that day, and she cried when she saw the condition Favian was in, which made him cry. He told her he would be alright, and that she had to worry about herself more.

"That was all the money we had." She whispered to him quietly. "It was exactly enough to pay for your hospital visit, nothing more. We don't have parents anymore Favian, what will we do?"

Favian answered truthfully. "I don't know."

The truth was, that if the two couldn't find a way to get by, then they would die. With no money, no parents or anyone to take care of them, no home, and no more jobs, and with Favian barely being able to see (everything was still blurry through his left eye), they had nowhere to go, no one to rely on but themselves.

Fiora began to have to guide Favian everywhere when he began to lose his eyesight in his left eye. She had to steal food, and the two lived in an abandoned place, until another brother-sister pair came through and took it, not even knowing Fiora and Favian existed.

Favian was just about to accept that their death was coming soon, when one day, a man spotted them on the streets. He was old, and he walked up to Favian and Fiora. Fiora took a step back, yanking Favian's arm since he couldn't see the man.

In a slow, croaking voice, he asked the two children what they were doing. Fiora told him about their parents, and the man told them that he ran a children adoption center, so he brought them there. Fiora and Favian lived there for a while, and Favian got teased because of his lack of vision, and Fiora got teased for having to guide him everywhere.

"You don't have to do this for me." Favian told her one day when she was crying because of the bullying.

She just smiled weakly, a smile Favian couldn't see, and answered, "yes, I do."

Eventually, the pair was adopted by an old couple who had also lost their family members in the factory bombing, and they took good care of the children. It turned out that the father was a scientist, and had previously lived in District 3. With his knowledge, he created Favian a fake eye for his right eye.

"Sorry it can't be colored, son." He said.

"It's fine." Favian giggled, "I can't even see it."

Soon, the mother died, and their father was cast into grief. Favian helped him get back to being the happy man he previously was, but Favian knew he couldn't work anymore. So Fiora went off to work at a textile factory, even though Favian begged and screamed for her not to go, and had nightmares of her factory exploding. Fiora took him to the factory, and they worked side by side, and no other bombs ever went off in their time there.

When the day of the Reaping came when Favian was 15, Fiora guided him there, and their father stood in the back of the crowd with his walking cane, bidding Favian good luck. Fiora went to stand next to him as he had to make his way all by himself to the boy's section, but he had gotten skilled with walking by himself.

Sadly, it was his name that was called, and he started to slowly and carefully make his way to the stage. He heard Fiora screaming his name from behind them, until she got up to him and was able to guide him. But, Peacekeepers wouldn't let that happen, and they pushed Fiora to the ground.

Favian went to the stage, and felt helpless. When he tripped down the stage, the whole district laughed at him. Fiora came and hugged him goodbye when the families could come and visit, and whispered, "you need to come back. Father is growing weaker, and I can't get enough money on my own for us to live..."

"I promise I will." He told her and his father, "I promise that I'll come back for my family, and District 8."

Strengths: Favian may be blind, but his hearing abilities are astonishing. He can hear almost everything going on in a room. He is also fairly smart, and has very good social skills.

Weaknesses: Favian, of course, is blind. He is also clumsy, and bad at running because of this.

Token (Optional): A small piece from a quilt that Fiora sewed for him.

Alliance: Willow Thorne if Sam (Sambaroses) enters her (Favlow <3), if not then probbly Artemis and other nice, helpful tributes.

Reaped/Volunteered: Reaped

...if you want tributes with shorter backstories, than I can change the ones I entered, haha. :3