fix the world and make it right.

. about mun + muse . hiya, my name is nova. im 29, wasian and have been writing since 2012, starting on tumblr then moving to discord and rpme. i have been religiously writing the last year. in hopes to get better at writing. so, hopefully that transfers to willow. please be kind, and let's have fun.

.  preferences  . willow is an indie multiship and multi verse character. so, im open to writing her in many verses, as long as it makes sense to me and i usually can work a verse in if it fits the character. as far as shipping, i go with chemisty. if it's not there, then there wont be any romance. please do not push me for a romance.

.  activity   .  this blog will be muse dependent. the more you interact with willow, the more you'll get. it's crazy how that works. i'm not particular with mutuals, meaning we can interact if we don't follow each other. i usually follow/follow back. but, 9 out of 10 times, im following to stalk ya'lls amazing writing/aesthetics.

.  writing  .  my writing comes in sporadic bursts. like my activity, it depends on muse. most of the time, though, i will write what i ( willow ) has to say, so multi-para at best. I do try to mirror my partner's writing, but i will draw the line at novella unless we have been writing for quite a while. i will take my time, because if it can't be perfect i won't be doing it.

BASICS

Full  Name: mirabel fife

Known  Alias(es): mira - dont call her anything else.

Age: 31

Gender: cisfemale

Birthday: november 13th.

Sexual  &  Romantic  Orientation: lesbian & single.

Status:  alive.

Residencies:  resides in the Capitol.

Occupation(s):  she currently works as a security guard, from working during the Games to protecting the Snow family.

PHYSICAL  EXAM

Facial  Features: she has mocha skin with a broad nose and pointed chin. Her face is oval with high cheekbones and has long wavy brunette hair. She has a prominent brow line and thick, plump lips.

Faceclaim:  varada sethu

Voice:  she has a orotund when she's working. it softens when shes not working, but still loud.

Voiceclaim:  she has a low and soft-spoken voice, though she can be booming and matter-of-fact.

Eyes: chocolate brown

Hair: midnight brunette

Body  Type:

Distinguishable  Marks:  she has a large scar on her right shin from a previous job back in d13, but she tells people she had a bad fall.

Height: 5'5"

Weight: REDACTED

MENTAL  EVALUATION

Mental  Illnesses  (if  applicable):  she has abandonment issues.

Psychological  Profile:  she shoves traumatic details and events so deep down that she doesn't even remember what triggers her.

Positive  Traits:  stealthy, calculated.

Negative  Traits:  cold, hardhearted.

Alignment  Type:  neutral good

Phobias:  she hates clowns and flying on planes.

Mannerisms:  she is a sleep talker. she hums to herself when she's by herself. she touches her face a lot when she stresses.

Hobbies  &  Interests:  sometimes she helps the snow kids with homework.

STRATEGIC  ANALYSIS

Combat  Style:  she perfers close combat, but will accomate to long distance. she's savvy in pinning her opponents down before they even know what is going on.

Weapon  of  Choice:  she keeps a dagger given to her by her na with a vial holding poison in the hilt. all she needs to do is press a button and it oozes out of the hilt, just remember to hold it down when you do.

Hand-to-Hand  Combat  Proficiency:  she is very confident in her hand-to-hand combat.

Tactical  Strengths:  she is great at close-combat and can wrestle.

Tactical  Weaknesses: she is terrible at long-distance combat.

Signature  Techniques:  she prefers a dagger pointed at the emeny.

Pain  Tolerance:  she has a high pain tolerance.

Defensive  Skills:  she has daggers hidden at the ready from her na and the Capitol supplied her with a pistol that she learned to use.

AFFILIATIONS  &  RELATIONSHIPS

Family:  unknown ( father , deceased ) , unknown ( mother , deceased ) , Min Nan ( maternal grandmother , deceased ).

Allies  &  Associates:  (Trusted  confidants  or  powerful  connections.)

Rivalries:  (Ongoing  personal  or  professional  conflicts.)

Enemies:  (Those  actively  working  against  them.)

Romantic  History:  (List  known  or  rumored  relationships.)

Notable  Friends:  (True  friendships  vs.  strategic  alliances.)

HABITS  &  LIFESTYLE

Daily  Routine:  check in with the Snow family.

Diet  &  Nutrition:  she has a strict eating regime. Eating right after her workout then taking her prepared food to work. At night, she either cooks or eats left over.

Exercise  Habits:  she runs every morning for at least thirty minutes with a thirty minutes stretch cool down just keep up her stamina. Sometimes, she'll lift weights, but she prefers to stay nimble.

Grooming  Habits:  living in the Capitol does have its perks. She keeps herself well groomed, nonetheless, usually with a low bun and plain black shirt with matching pants.

Substance  Use:  she doesn't dabble in substance use.

Sleep  Patterns:  she can sleep anywhere and everywhere, if needed, and sleeps whenever she can. If she's not working or playing, she's sleeping.

Favorite  Books: she enjoys reading the books hidden away within the Snow mansion.

Favorite  Music  Genres: she doesn't have time to indulge in listening to music.

LORE

My mother used to say ‘No dove comes from raven eggs.’ She showed me how precious these birds were actually, using the birds to send messages, vocal or written. When my parents went away on business, I would play with the ravens and learn how intricately intelligent they were. Some even learned how to attack on command. A simple three whistled note usually suffices, because any more appears to overload them. Not many people know, but ravens can be musically too. More so, melancholy than merriment. Nonetheless, I admire every aspect of the dark creature. 

It’s the last thing I have from my life before – a golden oval locket with an outlined raven etched on the top. I can’t even claim that I had a life in district thirteen, because if I did, I’d be executed. I remember my friends and running through the empty tunnels in restriction. Being late for curfew was my only trouble. I assume that’s what freedom feels like. I was completely wrong. Freedom looks like dressed up slavery slapped with clever words to keep us in line and maintain order. 

I was nine when my parents were stripped from me and Min Nan took me in, who is my great-grandmother. I’ve only met her once and now she has to be my caregiver…I wonder who she truly is and who she is exactly related to. My parents never talked about her, yet she's full of stories of my folk. 

Officials say my parent’s death was a terrible accident that happened and wouldn’t give any extra information. Nan says that they were on an undercover mission in the Capitol and it went south, ending up getting caught and executed as an example of what happens when you side with rebels. No way out and no chance of rescue, that was their fate. 

Nan swore to keep me away from the trade, and damn has she told me plenty. Something about my mother beating her hand in poker and begging her to look after me if they didn’t come back. And they didn’t come back. It took me longer to warm up to the notion that they weren’t unnecessary deaths; they were needed. Their deaths changed me, mentally and spiritually. 

Physically, I was persistent about getting trained, getting vengeance for Snow’s cruelty. That was an option not taken from me, so I took it for myself. It’s ultimately her undoing for telling me enough to paint the picture, being so candid with me that I’m actually grateful. Slowly but surely, chipping away the promise, Nan reluctantly agreed. 

The beginning was rough, to say the least. The long, tiring hours of training my muscles just to be okay in the biting cold and flaring heat in ever-changing weather of Panem grows demanding. Even throwing dagger after dagger becomes exhausting. Nan says ‘muscle memory helps in fights, so keep throwing.’ And, I do. I work hard, keep my head low and do what I have to do. 

At sixteen, I partnered for my first mission. Granted, the mission was only to reconnect a few wires at an abandoned building for reconnaissance and my job was just to stay watch. It was so exhilarating that just a taste of field work wasn’t enough. I needed more.

By nineteen, I accompanied multiple missions from gathering information to setting up hidden equipment. Even spent a day in the cooldown room after my first kill. The trauma doesn’t escalate to my parent’s death, but it's all the same: unrelenting torment that they aren’t coming back. The last mission was only to trade information. They didn’t tell us about the Peacekeepers being nearby and I had barely any time to choose between staying put or infiltrating the Capitol. I chose the latter as the Peacekeepers take me in cautiously as a grunt worker, cleaning up trash after the grand parties held on the streets or picking up people from parties who didn’t drink the clear liquid. I know Nan will understand.

Now, I go by Mirabel Fife – actually Mira. I worked through the ranks and now I work as a security guard for the Snow family. Go figure. I keep tabs of the ongoing and transgressions occurring behind gold gilded doors. Every now and again, I find myself staring at the horizon, wondering if the ravens and Nan are missing me just as much as I am missing them.

INSPIRATION

BASICS

Full  Name: silo hayes

Known  Alias(es): si, hayhay, hayo.

Age: 25

Gender: cismale

Birthday: july 5th.

Sexual  &  Romantic  Orientation: bisexual & single as a pringle.

Status:  alive.

Residencies:  resides in District 9.

Occupation(s):  he helps out at a local bakery while getting lost in wheat fields, but he's still finding his way.

PHYSICAL  EXAM

Facial  Features: he has olive skin with a slightly crooked nose and jutting chin. his face is slender with angular cheekbones and wears short curly brunette hair that hangs in his face. he has a bushy brow line and narrow lips.

Faceclaim:  paul mescal

Voice:  his voice is deep and husky. when he gets serious, it gets tense and tight.

Voiceclaim:  his voice is lighthearted, sometimes sarcastic because he doesn't take anything serious besides people.

Eyes: sky blue

Hair: dark brunette

Body  Type:

Distinguishable  Marks:  he has a vertical scar on his left eyebrow about half an inch from the Games. he is missing his left pinky.

Height: 5'11"

Weight: REDACTED

MENTAL  EVALUATION

Mental  Illnesses  (if  applicable):  he has pstd and anxiety disorder.

Psychological  Profile:  anything to do with fire, he has a hard time coping, but he gets there.

Positive  Traits:  witty humor, adroit.

Negative  Traits:  brazen, rigid.

Alignment  Type:  chaotic good

Phobias:  he doesn't like when it gets dark, but it wont stop him from doing the things he needs to do.

Mannerisms:  he mumbles to himself when he's deep in thought. he likes chewing gum to help him think. he yawns loudly.

Hobbies  &  Interests:  he doesn't do much, but he has picked up on scrapbooking.

STRATEGIC  ANALYSIS

Combat  Style:  he uses his fist to pummel through his problems, if needed. otherwise, he just tries to live his life as decent as he can.

Weapon  of  Choice:  a landscape scythe, since that's what he uses all day to cut wheat down.

Hand-to-Hand  Combat  Proficiency:  he doesnt get into fights, but he knows how to use his fist.

Tactical  Strengths:  he has a strong moral compass to do good, or at least make life not so shitty.

Tactical  Weaknesses: he hesitates, sometimes. mainly, because he can't fathom until he's reminded that he has a voice and needs to use it.

Signature  Techniques:  he punches the gut.

Pain  Tolerance:  he has a high pain tolerance.

Defensive  Skills:  he handles things himself. if he sees something wrong, he will speak up and try to make things equal.

AFFILIATIONS  &  RELATIONSHIPS

Family:  gloss dupout ( father , alive ) , terra hayes ( mother , alive ).

Allies  &  Associates:  (Trusted  confidants  or  powerful  connections.)

Rivalries:  (Ongoing  personal  or  professional  conflicts.)

Enemies:  (Those  actively  working  against  them.)

Romantic  History:  (List  known  or  rumored  relationships.)

Notable  Friends:  (True  friendships  vs.  strategic  alliances.)

HABITS  &  LIFESTYLE

Daily  Routine:  ho to work, check in with miss millie may ( the local bakery ), then take a dip or rest under a shady tree until it's time to go back home.

Diet  &  Nutrition:  he eats when he can, which is usually all the time. bread is his favorite snack.

Exercise  Habits:  working the wheat fields is exercise enough, also carrying bags of flour for the local bakery in town.

Grooming  Habits:  he likes to keep things simple, since he has to work the wheat fields often. a white t-shirt or beater with blue jeans will do.

Substance  Use:  he does smoke and drink occasionally. he just doesn't like how it makes him feel.

Sleep  Patterns:  sporadic, but he can fall sleep at a drop of a dime.

Favorite  Books: he doesn't really have time to read, but he will make time to read bedtime stories to the kids who need it.

Favorite  Music  Genres: he enjoys alternative.

LORE

THE EXISTING

My world shattered at age ten. It didn’t matter that we moved so often that I barely had any time to make friends; it didn’t matter that I knew how to fix a meal for my hard earning mother before I started going to school. All that mattered was that we were together and happy. 

She started with how my father was of importance and that some day I should go find him and meet him. Of course, I didn’t believe her when she told me a victor, and nonetheless Gloss from District one. Then, she proceeded to tell me that it was a one night stand and never told him. It’s too much that I ran away that night. Peacekeepers brought me back after finding me just sitting on a bale of wheat, gazing at the sky. I don’t plan on reaching out, but I still wonder why. 

The best thing about my birthday is, it is the day after Reaping. The worst part of it all has to be getting through the damned thing. After that, it’s smooth sailing and I won’t have to stand around, waiting for Death to unroll its scroll and maybe call my name. I have better things to do. We all have better things to do. Even the mayor and his double chin, which looks tamer than usual. Probably looking good for the cameras.

Shrilling clicks of heels cross the platform and haunt the empty space between us and them. It’s never fair, who is reaped, and always sad, the hardest pill to swallow watching kids walk to their grave. Especially with ill Bill announced over the speakers. It’s sickening, and I can already see them depriving him of the medicine he needs, instead plumping him up with propaganda and lies then sending him on his merry way into the arena. 

I volunteered for him. Now, I throw up, retched everything I ate this morning before I’m guided up to be put on a pedestal for the world to see. My gnawing stomach and aching temple scream at me for doing such a stupid thing. I was finally happy — working and doing well. But, Peacekeepers and the Capitol don’t care about happy. All they want to see is entertain with my face plastered over the television screen announcing my death. 

As I board the train to the Capitol, I swear this isn’t going to be my legacy. I will go out kicking and screaming, if I have too.

THE FIGHTING

You’d think I’d have it figured out after a couple days of the same routine. Wake up, eat, talk about strategy, eat, practice our skills, eat, then sleep. But, there’s always something that throws me off. There’s not much time to think and meander about what’s happening back home when the Careers are looking at you like a snack, either. Panelle, the female tribute who was reaped with me, is no help. She’s been like a deer in headlights whenever someone tries to talk to her. I almost feel bad, until I see the Career’s snicker from afar. 

It’s like they’re cats playing with their prey, but I hold my ground – for her, and mostly for the districts, because who else? They pad and paw at us to see if we’ll prance, but I know better. I play dumb and avoid them until the arena. No fun in letting my greatest strength out too early. As long as I can get my hands on a scythe or some sort of blade, I’ll be good. I can handle caring for one other person. 

When we dress, we dress light and breathable, but it sticks to my skin like glue. I feel the warmth under it all, and try to backtrack what wearing lightweight fabric means. Probably hot, most definitely humid weather with a sunny disposition. This is the type of clothing they would make kids wear to protect their skin. With a black long sleeve and joggers alone, I can rule our snowy or cold places. 

The next day can’t come any faster, but it’s here. As I’m rising in the tunnel, my stomach leaves me, staying put with my stylist and last wishes.

It’s hot – ‘boiling my skin off’ hot when the platform comes to a halt. I have to squint before I get a look at the damage before me. A cornucopia full of goodies, some weapons littering in front but most are displaying within, sit in the middle of the tributes. When I look back, there's about a mile of meadow before the trees can shelter me. I turn my back. That’s an issue I’ll deal with later. My eyes set on the closest thing near me – a dagger and a small burgundy backpack. 

As the gong rings, I leap to my only saviors in surviving this. Everything’s a blur after that. I wake up to Panem playing their final tune and welcoming the victor of the 86th Games, SILO HAYES FROM DISTRICT 9. I look down to find my hands are bloody, I’m missing a finger, and I can barely see out of my left eye. I remember playing as a kid, but the floor is actually lava just inches away from my melting skin.

THE PLAYING

They tell me I won, but I feel hollow and apathetic about all this. I watch the replays on the jumbo screen, spinning tales that shed light on horrible memories, and I’m forced to swallow it all again. Sitting here, I figured out I teamed up with the Careers early in the games only for one to betray and split the group up. I used the landscape and weather to my advantage and left the rest for dead for the rising lava. I watch in shock as the lava bleeds through the floor, engulfing everything in fiery orange liquid. My skin tickles just watching. My heart pounds remembering it all devastatingly. 

I wasn’t able to save anyone, and they made me look like I am a natural born killer, prodding me with their hunger eyes. So, why not play the part? I’m answering questions I don’t care about with smooth wit. I throw a charming smile at the crowd for insurance. I even jest at Caesar in light fun, a coat of vexation dusts the edges of the words. 

And when I get home to district nine, I pick up the same routine, only this time I add Panelle’s family to the list, because the Victor Village is empty and has nothing to do. We had three Victors at one point. One died of old age a couple years back and the other two were executed for siding with the rebels. They were young, too. 

Most days, I keep to myself. But, whenever the cameras come invading, I brave my face for the weather.

credit for 86th games and here

INSPIRATION

BASICS

Full  Name: willow sable grove

Known  Alias(es): lo, sable, grover.

Age: 17

Gender: cisfemale

Birthday: january 31.

Sexual  &  Romantic  Orientation: bisexual & secretly seeing someone.

Status:  alive.

Residencies:  resides in District 7.

Occupation(s):  she runs a family business that got passed down to her before she was even ready.

PHYSICAL  EXAM

Facial  Features: She has olive skin with a sharp nose and pointed chin. Her face is slender with angular cheekbones and when she smiles, her face deepens with emotion. She has a prominent brow line and rosebud lips.

Faceclaim:  amelia zadro

Voice:  Her voice is like honey, sweet and flattery, almost musical. But, when she's in a hurry, she will smash her words together like one long sentence.

Voiceclaim:  There's a fruity tone in her speech that makes people want to listen to what she has to say.

Eyes: glazier blue

Hair: dark brunette

Body  Type:

Distinguishable  Marks:  she has a inch scar from a knife on her left palm.

Height: 5'4"

Weight: REDACTED

MENTAL  EVALUATION

Mental  Illnesses  (if  applicable):  she has depression and it got worse after her mom killed herself

Psychological  Profile:  bodies of water where she cant see the bottom, seeing a dead body.

Positive  Traits:  passionate, candid.

Negative  Traits:  opininated, caustic.

Alignment  Type:  chaotic good

Phobias:  swimming.

Mannerisms:  when she's nervous, she will play with her hands. even better when shes wearing rings. when she's deep in thought, she paces. sometimes she finds herself in an entirely different location once she comes out of it.

Hobbies  &  Interests:  she enjoys dancing even though she doesn't have the best coordination. she tends to a garden.

STRATEGIC  ANALYSIS

Combat  Style:  she doesn't like fighting and tries to avoid it at all costs. but if she's forced into a corner and has to fight her way out, she's chaotic and will go for your throat.

Weapon  of  Choice:  she has a small spear point that has been passed down for generations. WG are ingrained into the hilt.

Hand-to-Hand  Combat  Proficiency:  she doesn’t have experience with ah d to hand combat.

Tactical  Strengths:  she can read a situation or scenario pretty fast and is able to decipher is she’s safe or in danger.

Tactical  Weaknesses: she doubts herself heavily, to the point that it affects her life.

Signature  Techniques:  she uses her fists, sometimes her head too. nothing special.

Pain  Tolerance:  she has a high pain tolerance.

Defensive  Skills:  she runs away. she’s not a fighter, but if forced, she will bare teeth.

AFFILIATIONS  &  RELATIONSHIPS

Family:  holt grove ( father , alive ) , winter grove ( mother , deceased ) , wilder grove ( brother , alive )

Allies  &  Associates:  (Trusted  confidants  or  powerful  connections.)

Rivalries:  (Ongoing  personal  or  professional  conflicts.)

Enemies:  (Those  actively  working  against  them.)

Romantic  History:  (List  known  or  rumored  relationships.)

Notable  Friends:  (True  friendships  vs.  strategic  alliances.)

HABITS  &  LIFESTYLE

Daily  Routine:  Go to work, make sure pa and little brother are alright, and give updates to thirteen via letters.

Diet  &  Nutrition:  She is forgetful. She can go a whole day and forget to eat, only to pay for it later with a gnarly bellyache.

Exercise  Habits:  Her exercise regimen consists of getting out of bed and bringing food to her mouth.

Grooming  Habits:  due to the harsh environment of seven, she tries her best to tame her beastly features of frizzy hair and dark purple bags under her eyes with a simple bun or soft makeup.

Substance  Use:  She smokes weed, frequently, growing a plant just to supply her habit.

Sleep  Patterns:  She never gets enough sleep, but when she does sleep, she can sleep for half the day.

Favorite  Books: she’s never owned a book and would like to in the near future.

Favorite  Music  Genres: she enjoys folklore and anything that makes her dance.

LORE

District  7  is  the  largest  district  to  contribute  to  the  paper  business.  There  wouldn’t  be  any  flyers  to  let  you  know  if  a  dog  or  cat  was  missing,  no  news  to  be  told  from  the  ongoings  in  the  Capitols,  no  letters  to  be  sent  to  update  your  allies  about  the  uprisings  happening  within  the  structure.  And  the  family  to  handle  it  all  is  the  Grove’s. 

For  as  long  as  I  can  remember  my  mother  has  taken  business  trips  to  sell  paper,  leaving  behind  father  to  tend  to  my  little  brother  and  I.  Though  he  had  his  own  job  of  tending  to  the  wood  mill,  tearing  down  thick  tree  trunks  and  milling  them  into  thin  sheets  of  paper,  he  did  his  best.  Always  playing  with  us  when  he  wasn’t  tired,  when  he  wasn’t  working.  He  would  tell  me  of  my  family  line  and  how  my  ma’s  side  was  more. 

I  never  really  delve  into  it,  but  I  pick  up  bits  and  pieces  through  conversations.  My  ma’s  family  left  the  Capitol  to  relocate  and  supply  Panem  with  ample  paper  back  in  the  early  Games.  I  don’t  blame  them,  because  I’ve  seen  how  the  Capitol  folk  flaunt  their  luxurious  lifes  at  us.  It’s  sickening,  and  I  hate  when  I  have  to  visit.  I’ve  also  heard  that  ma  didn’t  even  want  to  take  over,  but  since  her  eldest  sister  was  reaped  and  fell  victim  to  the  Games,  she  was  left  to  tend  to  the  business  and  broken  family.  And  once  she  had  taken  over,  she  found  pa  and  they  fell  in love.  So,  how  bad  could  it  have  been?

A  year  later,  I  was  born.  Willow  Sable  Grove,  but  most  people  call  me  Grover.  It’s  probably  something  to  do  with  being  from  a  lumber  district,  full  of  trees.  Ha  Ha  Ha.  Few  people  call  me  Sable,  but  rare  do  people  call  me  Willow.  Only  my  parents  call  me  little  bug.  I  guess  they  say  I  can  be  a  little  bug  of  the  wall,  bugging  people  to  no  end. 

Soon,  we  welcomed  my  little  brother,  Wilder  Grove.  He’s  the  light  of  my  life.  Our  childhood  was  perfect.  I  never  really  complained,  nor  had  too,  when  everything  we  wanted  could  be  given  to  us  and  everything  we  asked  for,  we  got.  I  tried  not  to  ask  for  much,  knowing  other  kids  didn’t  get  the  same  privilege.  My  ma  and  pa  didn’t  have  to  tell  me,  I  could  see  the  poverty  and  starvation  of  other  families  through  school,  so  I  tried  my  best  to  help  out  anyone  who  looked  to  be  struggling.

When  I  came  into  grade  school,  my  ma  would  take  me  on  trips  with  her.  I  got  to  see  many  districts,  explore  the  different  sides  of  Panem…except  for  the  bad.  Back  at  seven,  I  know  where  to  the  people  living  off  of  nepenthe  can  find  more,  where  people  want  to  gamble  their  lives  away.  But,  at  the  others,  it’s  like  they  hide  the  bad  and  evil. 

My  mother  used  to  tell  me  stories  and  sing  me  lullabies,  telling  me  that  ‘there’s  always  two  sides  to  the  story  and  you  might  not  always  be  on  the  right  side.’  I  would  ask  her,  ‘how  do  you  know  which  is  the  right  side?’  She  was  smiles  bright  and  her  answer  never  made  sense,  ‘keep  your  eyes  wide  and  heart  open,  little  bug.’  She  never  did  explain  what  she  meant. 

One  time,  she  took  me  to  the  shore  at  district  four  and  I  can  see  the  sentiment  for  the  ocean.  The  whispering  coos  of  lapping  water  and  the  glistening  water  winking  back  at  you  is  charming.  Enough  so,  that  I  wanted  to  learn  to  swim.  By  myself.  We  don’t  have  pools  or  lakes  or  bodies  of  water  in  district  seven.  And,  I  almost  drowned  if  it  werent  for  an  old  man  who  happen  to  walk  by  and  save  my  life.  I  still  don’t  know  who  he  is  or  where  he’s  at  now.  Is  he  dead? 

My  ma’s  death  came  unexpectedly,  though,  and  I  was  told  it  was  an  accident,  but  I  swear  there’s  no  accident  in  laying  in  a  pool  of  your  own  blood.  I  found  her  one  late  night  by  the  dumpster  with  blood  haloing  her  head.  Doctors  say  she  had  a  head  bleed  and  that  was  what  likely  caused  her  to  fall,  hit  her  head,  and  bleed  out.  But,  why  didn’t  they  mention  that  dirt  under  her  nails  or  the  bruises  on  her  arms.  I’m  not  a  doctor,  yet  the  doctor’s  explanation  doesn’t  make  any  sense.  I’m  convinced  she  was  murdered,  and  I  don’t  share  this  part  of  my  life  with  anyone. 

Who  would  feel  anything  but  pity  for  a  merchant  girl  who  lost  her  mom  and  is  now  convinced  that  her  mom  was  murdered?  Certainly  not  the  Capitol.  They’d  say  I’m  having  a  mental  breakdown,  so  I  keep  my  head  down  and  work  through  my  family's  crippling  issues. 

My  pa’s  health  declined  pretty  rapidly  after  ma’s  death,  and  I  don’t  blame  him.  I  don’t  know  how  I’d  feel  if  the  love  of  my  life  died  suddenly.  So,  at  eighteen,  I  inherited  my  family  business  and  my  fifteen year old  brother  started  working  in  the  wood  mill. 

After  a  few  years,  I  got  a  handle  on  negotiations  and  how  trading  within  Panem  works.  I’m  grateful  for  the  times  my  ma  took  with  me  on  her  trips.  It’s  like  she  was  preparing  me  to  step  into  her  shoes.  Quite  literally,  she  says  this  is  a  letter,  explaining  what  she  was  doing,  why  she  was  going,  and  why  I  have  to  continue  our  legacy  thriving.  Now,  it’s  my  turn  to  supply  paper  and  give  people  something  to  write  down  our  history  so  we  never  forget. 

INSPIRATION