#stfgvbio

[valleybornarchived]

“A woman can’t run from the things she’s done                                                        When the weight’s got her on her knees.” 

General →

Name: Odessa Graham

Age: Twenty One

District of Residency: Twelve

Victor Year: Seventieth 

Residing Role: Mentor 

Biography →

Children are taught to fear the monsters that lurk in the darkness of their rooms at night, in the depths of the forest, and what lurked outside the protection of the district walls. For Odessa Graham, she lived among the monsters. The men who paced her district with the white armor, guarding them or as her mother believed: they were keeping them within. Her mother spoke out against the powers at be and for that, Odessa lost her mother before the age of five. She recalls the guards shoving her away as they pull from their home and out. Her brother holds her back as they take her from the home, never to be seen again. And months later, on their way home from school the siblings witness a man begging for his life as they lash him. A fate that killed their mother. The poor girl broke from her brother, running home and hiding until her father found her crying in her in her room under her blankets. When he asked why she told him and he took her hands saying, “They will never hurt you if you let them. Be strong, be smart, and they will never hurt you.” And these words resonated with her and words she would learn to live by. With every passing game, this would be come her mantra as she watched a boy and a girl disappear to the capitol. Most never to return, years later she would learn why, but never fully understand. 

Despite the nightmare they were in, Odessa enjoyed her life in the district. Her father was the blacksmith and while money was not great, it was enough to keep them warm and fed. Something she was thankful for. The little things made her happy and to her it was all she needed. She loved picking flowers, leaving them for her father to come home to after work. She once tried to the same for her friends at school, but was yelled at for getting dirt in the class room, but it didn’t stop her from leaving them from the boy with sad eyes and smiling heart. She would steal books from her school ,but quietly returning them when she was done. She would take them past the fence and read them among the trees until dusk when she would return with flowers in her hair and the book hidden under her shirt. It was the only time she was happy. She felt at home among the trees and loved the feeling of the grass between her toes. It was her paradise among the darkness. She was kind to everyone she met, but she never fully let anyone in. Her brother was the only one who was ever able to see past her walls. The only one she would tell her fears of him getting reaped or even her as the time got closer for her to come of age. And how she would curse the games and the ones who commanded this. Her brother only agreed and told her to keep quiet for their father’s sake. But with every passing year, her anger only festered. 

The change was small, but incredibly loud. She never full noticed the affect of the games until her classes grew smaller each year. Some where old enough to go work in the mines while others were merely pawns in a losing game. Two desk would remain empty every year and only the echoes of that child in her memory would remain. Reality had settled in and she built her walls higher. Her brother had been in the reaping for as long as she could recall, but his name was never called. She never worried for him, but those around her seemed to be pulled away by the men in white and friends were never seen again. It was better to keep herself from having any, saving her heart from breaking anymore. But try as she might, Hector always found his way back to her. He never took to her rejection. Childhood friend who she kept at arms length, pushing away him further every year. But he never let up and she found it almost endearing as she did annoying. But it was the day of his reaping that changed that. When his name was called and the closet thing she never had to a best friend chosen to die--something inside her broke. Before he was placed on the train, she slipped into the room where the goodbyes of past tributes would echo for centuries. She let her walls fall, leaving the rumble behind her as she walked to him. She made him swear he would come back, that he wasn’t allowed to die. And with what composure she had left, she kissed him. And for a moment, she tasted what freedom would feel like. 

She watched the games intensely, following every report, every hour--needing to make sure he came home or if she needed to grieve for the best friend she never got to love. And when he won, she couldn’t help the smile that crossed her face. She hated the games with a burning passion, she knew her best friend would never return--not the way he once was. But she would still love the man who came back to her. And for a moment, she felt at peace and everything seemed right. But what she’d forgotten was her name was still in the bowl and her life still waited on a line. 

At the dawn of the Seventieth, Odessa felt peace almost having hope she would be spared once again. She could return to her life, go back to training with the doctor and continuing to learn to be a physician. That morning she awoke early to watch the sunrise and begin cleaning herself up for the reaping. But as the Capitol Escort took the stage, a haunting feeling fell upon her. Something deep within her stomach boiled, a warning. And as the man reached in, taking out the girl’s name, Odessa felt her knees go weak as her name rang out. Her father’s screams echoed behind her as the guards took hold of her and dragged her to the stage. This was the last she believed she would ever see of her District, of her family, of the life she knew. Now, she would be a pawn in the a game that was never her’s to play. And the boy who was chosen was only fourteen, the only son of a mother who had already lost a child to the games. Odessa knew then, just what evil they lived under and how she would die fight believing in this was not the life they deserved. 

Despite the fire burning inside of her, Odessa played the game that was set out in front of her. She hung on every word of advice her escort gave her and adding the charm that she’d buried deep down.She became the girl she wished she could have been, the one she had killed to survive and save herself a broken heart. For the first time in her life, she was herself and in a few days, she would die. 

In the arena, Odessa was clever and let natural selection have it’s fun. She was able to steal a knife before she scurried into the treeline and above the others. She moved tree to tree, with only a few minor cuts from her time at the bloodbath. Many had died the first night, the rest she would let kill each other or awaited the game-makers to have their turn. She moved, even daring to camp above a few of the careers before dropping poisoned berries into their food while they slept and stealing a weapon or two. She would go deeper into the forest only to hear the canons fire as each died. She wasn’t strong, not like the others, but she had wit. Training had helped, but even so--she relied on her mind rather than her combat skills. Until the end, while she was able to only have minor interactions, able to take out those who tried to kill her, she still found herself face to face with a man who was born for this. And with his mind gone from the game driving him further into madness, Odessa was outmatched and would stare death in the face as she approached him with machete raised. He came at her wildly with an ax and as he swung for her head, her left forearm caught it. Allowing her to drive the machete into his throat, cutting the carotid artery and killing him. But as he fell, she did too. She fell to her knees, screaming to the sky as the ax remained in her arm. She had survived, but she paid greatly for it in the end. 

She would awake days later in the hospital, alive and a victor. Her arm had been lost due to the injury and in it’s place was a metal one. One that they had connected to her nerves, one that would with time she could control like the one she lot. To her this did not mean much for the girl she once was had died out there. Instead a woman filled with hatred and pain for the capitol came home, but her broken heart still ached to love those who had been awaiting her. They would help her regain the piece of herself she could salvage, but she would never fully come home. Her arm was only a reminder of that hate and what she lost. It would drive her to want to break free--revolt and never sure how to set the fire. 

It has been four years since her games, but the memories still burn and torment hers as violently as they did in when she first awoke. For two years now, she had been a mentor working along side the man who guided her and the man who came back to her. It was all she could for now, to help these kids come home and live another year. It was all she could do to spit in the face of the Capitol, making kids stronger and more valiant than the last. Her own quiet rebellion and one day, maybe just maybe it would be enough to create a spark. Odessa played the game until then and would be seen as just another victor. But with the dawn of the Seventy Fourth on its way, she could feel a change in the air and what lay a head for them. 

Connections →

Mangus Bane → Escort/Friend 

Hector Chapman → Lover/Mentor Partner

**More to be added. 

[ofparasol-a-blog]

jessamine lovelace | twenty five | capitol citizen | district four makeup artist

jessamine had a good childhood. it was easy and they had only a few problems in their small family of three. the problems started after jessie’s fourteenth birthday, when their family home burned down in an unfortunate accident while she was out at school. the tragedy had her life turned upside down, moving to live with a neighbouring family. she didn’t particularly get on with them or the other children, arguing constantly with them and always talking about the day she would receive her inheritance and be able to live on her own.

she spent more time focussed on becoming a future part of the district teams for the hunger games than doing her school work, deciding that she enjoyed the freedom of design far more than the idea of learning the sciences or maths. she was twenty when she finally had her first chance to be a part of the district four design team. like any other capitol citizen, she loved the games and the capitol, especially for providing her with this opportunity. it wasn’t until two years later when her opinions changed.

nate gray. an eighteen year old tribute who she fell in love with within the matter of days that she knew him. she was certain that he was the one, they talked about how he would win his games and they would be married and run away from the government that ruled them. but there are eyes and ears everywhere in the capitol and their plans weren’t kept secret for long. his death was set up in the games, she knew it even before she found the note from president snow. a warning. that next time she went against the capitol, she would be the one to suffer a deadly fate.

[survivormoves]

JONATHAN MURPHY / SEVENTEEN / DISCTRICT 5 TRIBUTE VOLUNTEER

Alex Murphy had never enjoyed the Hunger Games as others of the Capitol had. He had seen it no a sport, but a bloodfest. Perhaps for that reason, he feared the child that grew in his wife's stomach. He hadn't been so lucky to escape the reaping. In fact one of the UNLUCKY. He had been twelve when his named was called. And by dumb luck at times, manipulation, and using skills he was taught from young's on by his parents, did he finally manage to succeed in coming out victorious. It however, left its scars as one would think. He became a capitol favourite for a while and his name had often been heard. He became a mentor for those who came after him eventually. But it was wrong. It was all wrong. And when he had gotten himself a girl, who would eventually become his wife, fear had latched onto him.

From the moment Jonathan Murphy had been born, his father had shown both love and harshness. He had taught him things that one wasn't supposed to be taught. John eventually accepted such and saw it as something NORMAL that he just didn't have to talk about. His father manipulated him in a way to ensure the boy's safety. He often saw his parents fight, and argue. But love passionately at the same time. There were whispers and secrets swapped that enraged and made his mother fear for their safety. But also the promise to keep it on a low. John at times, took note of these secrets. He however, never once spoke of them to anyone but his father, who eventually confided in his son, who had proven to be loyal to a fault. Believing he would not break under pressure.

John grew up close to another John, causing the two of them to call each other by their last name. They were tight knit boys, some even called them the brothers John. From the age of four until the age of fourteen, they were always  seen together. Mbege was quiet, spoke not as much. But Murphy and him grew so in synch with one another that they needed no words to be spoken. A simple look, a simple movement, it spoke CHAPTERS for them. A rub over the nose,  a shrug of the shoulder, the way their lips would either twitch upward or downward.  Inseperable. Brothers. And probably the ONLY one who knew of the small crush John Murphy had on Bellamy Blake.

Bellamy Blake. Whom he had met when he was ten years old. Whom he had grown a somewhat reluctant friendship with at first. For Murphy was loud, and sometimes a bit too much. He wasn't one to shut up, not one to take things halfway. And he never was dirty of a bit of teasing and having a potty mouth. Despite all that, they became friends, a friendship that grew stronger after his fourteenth, when  the reaping had came..

                    " JOHN. "                                                  " JOHN MBEGE. "

He could remember still the way he froze to the spot, his eyes set on the boy he had considered his BROTHER. The way the other swallowed once, a hard look on his face. Fifteen years old. For a moment, John Murphy had wanted to volunteer himself. His father had TRAINED him for this. For the games. But the harsh look of Mbege. The WORDS that had spilled from the other's mouth. The PLEA in his voice, on his face. It made him dumbstruck. Silent. And as Murphy clung to the boy he considered his brother, Mbege made him vow not to take his place. And then he was let go of, shoved into Bellamy's arms to ensure the older boy would KEEP him at place. That he would not follow after.

Murphy had raged. Of course he had. And then he had became silent. He had became fixated upon the television. Praying each time again that Mbege would make it. That he would manage to get through the games. It didn't happen. Somewhere in the middle of the games, his throat was slit and he was left to bleed out. Murphy had been a wreck that day, silent, like the calm before the storm. His father had not been home, he had promised to stay there. To ensure Mbege would go in prepared. He couldn’t keep to his promise. He had to see his son become more quiet, more rageful... And then he had to go AGAIN... Another reaping. One he didn’t look for. He didn’t want to. Alex Murphy never returned home and they were later told of his death. Some freak accident had happened at the capitol. Something gone terribly wrong.

John Murphy believed jackshit of that. The following year he had focused himself entirely upon keeping up to strenght. On learning all that he could.  He suffered through the downspiral of his mother for nearly a full year too before he one day fled home, after a spat had happened and she accused him of being the cause of his father's death. Claiming they had taken him from them for trying to protect Mbege and for training HIM.  He returned only to find her dead in a pool of her own vomit. During this time, Bellamy Blake confided in him about his sister Octavia. And he vowed secrecy. " You're all I've got left, I won't betray you. " Bellamy Blake tried to help him as best as he could to keep himself above water. And then his sixteenth birthday came around and Bellamy was reaped. He felt his world SHATTER to pieces. Eighteen. Eighteen years old. Had he not been chosen for this one, he would have been safe.

And again Murphy was left having to keep an eye on the tv. HOPING so hard for the survival of the last person he had left in his life. He tried his best, gathered help where he could. Even went BEYOND what he could by delving deeper into his father's stuff. A thing he knew was d a n g e r o u s. But oh, the sheer relief when he realized that Bellamy Blake had came out victorious.  When he had been able to step forward, with shaky knees to see his friend standing there. Alive. Not quite well, but alive. And that was more he could've hoped for. Everything you touch, surely dies. And it was then that Octavia had made herself known. The first time he actually SAW the younger girl. The little sister of Bellamy Blake.

And shit hit the fan.

Murphy had watched it all unfold before him, the Capitol... Octavia Blake. Bellamy Blake and eventually the killing of Aurora Blake.  And then the reaping. The 74th annual games. And Octavia Blake was to be the tribute, regardless of whether she wanted to or not. All the other girls were SAFE.  And when some poor bloke got called as the tribute for the fifth district, something had grown cold within him. Taken root as he marched through the crowds, shoving his way past and getting all into everyone's faces. He had done nothing. Twice. But third time's a charm. He had felt the pain of loss, of grief one to many times. Bellamy was all he had left. How could he with a right mind let him feel the same pain he had felt? So he vowed to himself to keep safe his kid sister. The words had tumbled out of his mouth, strong and confident and BOLD.

                        " I VOLUNTEER AS THE TRIBUTE OF DISTRICT FIVE. "

[conclavewona-blog]

                          ᴏᴄᴛᴀᴠɪᴀ ʙʟᴀᴋᴇ / sɪxᴛᴇᴇɴ / ᴅɪsᴛʀɪᴄᴛ ғɪᴠᴇ ᴛʀɪʙᴜᴛᴇ

         octavia blake, district five’s little secret. it wasn’t uncommon for families to have more than one child, but after the blake’s father ran off with a capitol woman, aurora became deranged with grif and heartache, convinced that the capitol would come and take away her new born baby too. paranoid, she refused to let octavia out of the house, refused to let anyone outside of the family know of her existence. if people visited, aurora would force octavia to hide under the floor boards until they were gone. she was a lonely child, depending on bellamy more than a little sister should have. he tried his best to convince his mother she was safe to leave the house, but whenever he did, aurora would grow mad, voice raising and scolding him for being so inconsiderate and selfish.

     octavia was fifteen when bellamy was reaped for the hunger games. she was fifteen when she thought she was going to lose her brother and she was unable to say goodbye to him, trapped in the house. she watched from her perch under the window as they took her big brother away from her. octavia was fifteen years old when she cried herself to sleep without the comfort of bellamy.

   their tv was small and it took every bit of octavia to keep watching as her brother fought and murdered to stay alive - to come back to her. she still remembers the blood that splattered his face when he was announced victorious. she remembers the storm in his eyes as he stared the camera down.

     his arrival back in district five was a big event, everyone celebrated his return, but that all stopped when octavia blake rushed through the streets and collided with her brother’s chest, tears streaming down her cheeks. it was the first they had heard of another blake child. the large hand of the closest peacekeeper bruised her soft shoulder as they pulled her away from bellamy, claiming that she was not allowed to touch the victor. how was octavia to know this would spiral a chain of events that would change her life?

     the capitol lived for it - the whole secret sister gig. they ate it up. it seemed snow saw this, and as a message to the people of panem, he declared octavia a tribute for the 74th annual hunger games and thus, she was reaped as so. however, moments before the reaping commenced, bellamy and octavia were taken from victor’s village and forced to witness their mother’s murder. a single white rose had been placed in their mother’s favorite vase, a message from president snow - DO NOT TRICK ME AGAIN.

    now in the capitol, octavia must learn how ti fight and survive, while also trying to find her true self away from home for the first time. everything is bright and colourful in the capitol. with bellamy by her side, she swears she’ll fight with everything she has to return to him. to release the darkness that is hiding inside of her.