hi , everyone ! i’m j , i’m twenty years old and i use she/her pronouns . i’m EXTREMELY hype for this group , since i’m a thg stan and it’s what first drew me to rp way too long ago , back in the fanfiction dot net days . anyways ! i’m happy to introduce my newest muse , can’t wait for her to d*e in the arena ! if you’d like to plot , leave a like for me to im you on tumblr , or react to my plotting call on discord for me to message you there .
[ 𝖈𝖍𝖑𝖔𝖊 𝖇𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖊𝖙 , 𝖈𝖎𝖘 𝖋𝖊𝖒𝖆𝖑𝖊 , 𝖘𝖍𝖊/𝖍𝖊𝖗 . ] ––––– introducing juniper dalton , TRIBUTE of the 74th hunger games , representing district ten . my sources say that they are twenty two years old, & that they’re pretty handy with a sickle & resourcefulness . wonder if that will do any good in the arena ? anyways, caesar says you can’t miss them , because they remind everyone of flowers choked by thorns , bloodshot eyes widened in fear and grim realization , lungs burning as instinct urges you to keep running , a cracked mirror , lost innocence as lamb becomes bloodhound .
𝚒 . 𝚋𝚒𝚘𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚑𝚢
tw : death , mass shooting , symptoms of anxiety & ptsd .
𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖈𝖙 𝖙𝖊𝖓 𝖎𝖘 𝖍𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖙𝖔 endless fields , grass stretches out until it reaches a shining horizon as the sun sets on another day of work . tired faces , lined with exhaustion , wrap rope around the neck of a cow and lead it into a barn ––– rough hands pack meat to be shipped off to the waiting , bloody lips of those who swallow the product of their labor greedily and extend an open palm to take more from the sweaty , calloused hands that give up flesh to satiate their hunger , those who offer their children for their entertainment . DISTRICT TEN , where a man with scarred hands fell for a woman’s soft features and her way with the animals whose life she valued , even when they would be inevitably led to slaughter . they fell in love quickly , they married , they formed a family of their own and trained their children in their father’s trade . juniper was introduced to a sickle to slice through grasslands , her face cradled by gentle hands as they tilted her chin upwards to stare into a cow’s wide , innocent eyes and appreciate the life they carried .
𝖋𝖆𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖍𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖉 𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖉𝖆𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖆 curved blade , taught her how to slice through the forage that would then be used to fatten their animals to the capitol’s liking . she is the eldest , her younger siblings have it easier . by age six she has already nicked her fingers on her father’s sickle , by age ten she is introduced to it herself when her mother’s back is turned ( father wants to prevent another incident , knows his daughter’s curiosity has not yet learned to be limited to what won’t get her blood spilled ) . by age twelve she is lacing up worn , hand –– me –– down leather boots by her father’s side as they head out into a field as the sun’s first rays paint the grass in a soft golden hue , a miniature version of the blade clasped between impoverished fingers that have to work if they don’t want to starve or risk the capitol’s disapproval in the form of a BULLET through a skull .
𝖒𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖙𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖋𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝖈𝖗𝖚𝖊𝖑𝖙𝖞 just as she did with the other two dalton siblings , calla and tate . she led them to stables , calloused hand leading miniature digits towards an animal’s smooth coat . she taught them that they were beautiful , that their life had worth . while the younger siblings were recruited to aid her in feeding the gentle creatures their mother spoke so highly of , juniper was introduced to harshness early on as her father instructed her to keep her head down and think of her mother’s voice whenever a peacekeeper delivered cruel punishment upon workers who failed to live up to STANDARDS . mother covered their eyes every year , as blood was spilled in the name of those whose teeth so greedily sunk into slaughtered meat . they wanted blood to flow in rivers , they revelled in DEATH . mother sheltered them for the longest time , as long as she could , until their exposure to the world’s cruel reality became inevitable .
𝖔𝖓𝖊 𝖎𝖓𝖈𝖎𝖉𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝖆𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖊𝖊𝖉𝖑𝖔𝖙 , one round of BULLETS to suffocate any hopes of instigation . peacekeepers did not hesitate before they shot , they saw no humans but rather the capitol’s cattle . an altercation with one of the peacekeepers when they beat an old man who collapsed from exhaustion , shouts of outrage , silenced at the barrel of a gun . a soft woman who only ever wanted to protect , too kind for this world , too soft to be worthy of such cruelty , among the thirteen fallen . mother gone , father devastated , children left to bury her among the wildflowers , cry into their worn mattress during the night , and go out into the fields the following day for another day of meager work . death had come QUICK and WITHOUT ANY WARNING , and it left fourteen year old juniper terrified . it could come again , giving her brother or sister a fever that they would never recover from . it could come again , with her father’s flesh accidentally sliced by a friend’s sickle , left to bleed out in the fields . it could come again , with peacekeepers deciding her hard work was not hard enough , that she was not harvesting enough food for the livestock , that the only appropriate punishment was death . it could come again at any moment , without warning , and it could take anyone away .
𝖎𝖙 𝖜𝖆𝖙𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖉 , 𝖛𝖎𝖌𝖎𝖑𝖆𝖓𝖙 , 𝖚𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖑 𝖘𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖌 . she’s twenty two , wearing a faded dress that once belonged to her mother ––– it’s floral , and though her mother’s scent has long since left it , the memory remains . calla , at eighteen , wears a white ribbon in her braids as she takes her place among her peers for her first year as an eligible tribute . usually anxious , juniper is panicking . her breath , like every year , comes in short gasps as an ache in her chest makes her feel like she’s going to die , like her heart’s going to stop beating at any moment , like she might plummet to the ground right here . a friend holds her hand like every year , whispers soft words in an effort to soothe her –––– their parent died when juniper’s mother did , and she wonders how they have moved on with their life and how they don’t panic every time a peacekeeper crosses their sight in their signature white . death has been following her like a shadow , it reaches her now as her name is called and juniper feels so much FEAR that it consumes her completely . her friend’s hand falls limp at her side , she hears her father sobbing in the distance through the ringing in her ears as her stunned silence is suddenly broken when a harsh hand wraps around her arm , a peacekeeper intent on pulling her out to the crowd and leading the lamb to slaughter . she sees the white , she sees the gun on their side ––– fight or flight , every instinct cries , as juniper stares into the eyes of someone and forgets every lesson her mother ever taught her . this life is worth nothing , this man is part of a breed of murderers . his hand wraps around her arm , harshly pulls her out of the crowd and into the clear path towards the stage , within a fraction of a second juniper’s choked out a cry that carries both fear and wrath as she dares to utter a ‘ DON’T TOUCH ME ’ before sending a fist into a peacekeeper’s face . ears ring , her legs shake as they carry her up the steps , she takes the stage and knows that she will not let death claim her without a fight .
𝚒𝚒 . 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚜
full name . juniper rhea dalton .
nicknames . june / juno .
age . twenty –– two .
gender . cis female , she/her pronouns .
home . district ten .
orientation . panromantic pansexual .
appearance . thin , toned frame stands at 5′6 , defined bone structure . wavy brown hair is dry , especially at the ends ( around the beginning of her ribs , will likely be trimmed by stylists ) . arms are notably toned , as they are where her strength is gathered . malnourishment from years of impoverished living show in the fact that her musculature is not as defined as it should be , in sunken eyes , in an angular frame .
strengths . extremely proficient in wielding a sickle . resourceful , from knowledge of what plants aren’t poisonous from her own experience in farming and feeding animals , to a quick mind . physical strength from labour . willingness to do whatever it takes to survive .
weaknesses . crippling fear of death that can make her behave irrationally out of desperation . lack of any formal weapons training . extremely frail mental state , bound to snap at any moment because of the looming threat of mortality . underfed from living in an impoverished district all her life . currently living through her own personal hell .
𝚒𝚒𝚒. 𝚎𝚡𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚜
pinterest board . spotify playlist ( under co. ) .
