Artemisia "Art" Hodrung (District 2 Resident) (18)
Artemisia Hodrung was less than a "simple girl". She was an "ugly beast". Even when she had just turned 14, she was nearly 6'2" with blonde hair growing all over her body, including her face. She had muscles that could compete with the boys of the 'Career' Academy of District 2. Her face was oddly disproportionate, resembling a brown bear from the mountains that surrounded the district with brown eyes to match. She had been ridiculed by the other children her entire life, yet none of them were brave enough to be cruel to her in person. They knew the consequences of such mockery. Rufus Paxton learned that when she knocked a few of this teeth out for calling her a "hideous bitch". Yet, that didn't stop Rex Franklin from labeling her 'Art' Hodrung because she was "a real piece of art to look at" when she was just 16 years old.
Since those 4 years of school and the Academy, she had taken the nickname in stride. By the age of 18, she understood she would never truly be loved by a man (or even another woman). So she fought her way to the top of the academy. Fought her way to the Hunger Games. The only girl to challenge her for the right of volunteering for the Hunger Games was the niece of Clove Mason, the very Clove who killed the famous Katniss Everdeen, yet 'Art' dodged all of the knives thrown by Juniper Mason and knocked the petite girl aside. 'Art' had never felt stronger than when she was finally selected by the academy to volunteer. "When these Games are done, I will be richer, stronger, and more famous than all of the clowns who had joked behind my back for years" She resounded. "Or I would be dead and deaf to those who mocked me". To 'Art' Hodrung, either of those options sounded good.
Artemisia set the large steel axe back on rack and admired the damage she had done to the various dummies provided by the academy. She had nearly cleaved one of them in two, another she had struck the head clean off. She always allowed the memories of her past abuses to fill her with rage, and it always provided results. Those results won her place in the games.
Art strolled towards the women's showers, slowly peeling off the the uncomfortable training suit she was required to wear when on the training floor. She always hated the suit. It exposed too much of her own figure for her liking, exposing the hard muscles underneath, the ones she had unfortunately grown to hate about herself.
The showers at the academy were more advanced than the simple faucet she had at home, yet still lacked the refinement of the Capitol showers, at least from what she had heard from her father's trips to the heartland of Panem. Her father was an engineer, helping to construct and revamp many of the vast sewers and underground rail lines that ran all over the city. Her father's profession afforded her family a comfortable living in the "downtown" of District 2, especially compared to the "stonies" who toiled away as near slaves in the many mines and stone works of District 2. Yet, her family was by no means "affluent", especially in comparison to the upper crust of the district; consisting of the administrators, military officers, and business owners. In the small apartment her family occupied, her shower consisted of a simple knob she twisted to get warm water that ran out of pressure within minutes. The soap she used was one bought from the surplus store down the street and rarely smelled sweet. Here at the Academy, she had multiple soaps, including one that was only for hair, all of them smelled delightful, and the warm water seemed to last forever. It was one of Art's favorite things about training at the Academy. Finally, after 20 minutes, she flicked the shower off and began to dry herself, changing into the loose fitting jeans, undershirt, and faux fur jacket that kept her warm in the summer snow storm that had just started to hit District 2.
Artemisia ventured out of the Academy, clocking her card at the machine near the front door, and nodding at the kind receptionist lady. As soon as she opened the door, the freezing wind stung her face. Snow flurries were falling and it was July, yet Art smiled. It always reminded her the comfort that the warmth of home provided. Reminded her to never take warmth for granted.
She inhaled the fresh smell of the freezing day and contemplated the beauty of the mountainous city before her as she began her long journey home. "I really fucking hate it here" she mused in a moment of both love and hate. District 2 was a center for both immense privilege and abstract poverty. The diverse architecture of the "downtown" city reflected that. Art sauntered past both dilapidated homes, that predated even the dark days, and mansions that were, obviously, newly constructed. When she reached her own home, Art felt a sense of relief. Despite the emotional distance of her father, and the aloof demeanor of her mother, Art knew her parents truly love and cared for her. It was the only respite she had for the cruelty of the outside world.
Neither of her parents were home, and she was perfectly okay with that. Perfectly okay to mentally prepare for the reaping that was only a day out. Perfect for preparing for the farewell ceremony that was to come after the reaping. Perfect to prepare for the viciousness of the Hunger Games.
Author's Notes: Thank you to everyone who has signed up so far! Still updating and changing certain rules and expectations as I am still a new writer on this website.
I wanted to provide an interesting background for District 2. While the District is considered to be a "wealthy" district by comparison to 12. I always imagined it would still have it's own class conflict and divides. This would explain why portions of the District were willing to join the rebellion. This is slightly explained in my own ideas of a divide between "stonies" who represent the "working class" of District 2, the "middle class" of skilled laborers (ie engineers, NCOs, etc), and the "upper crust" (military officers, administrators, and Company personnel/owners).