The Hunger Games (Writing Contest) [CLOSED]

Aalto Moretti-Reaping

Name: Aalto Moretti (pronounced Alto)

Age: Seventeen

Gender: Male

District: Ten, Livestock

Appearance: Aalto has a structured face, the skin pulled tight over his bones. There's little fat on him, the hard work of the district stripped him of it years ago. His dark hair has an under cut, the rest spills over his forehead in straight, greasy, fragments. His eyes are sunken in, the light blueness of them pierce the darkness that makes him, him.

Personality: Aalto's personality is minimal. He lacks the ability to feel emotion for anything. He was born that way. He never cries, he never complains, he's just there. He's quiet and reserved, keeping to himself, besides nobody wants to hang out with the boy that doesn't feel. He doesn't attach too much, due to the lack of feelings.

Four Skills: Aalto knows how to kill. He's not trained like the careers are, but he grew up butchering the livestock the Capitol lives off of. He grew up surrounded by animals, he can read their feelings, I guess you can say that his ability to read emotions makes up for his lack of emotion, but probably not. He can tell when an animal is hurt, or afraid, or content, it can't be that hard to translate this skill to humans. The natural predators to the livestock–the wild dogs, hungry people, the animals themselves–has helped Aalto gain excellent​ hunting technique. He can track anything to the smallest of birds. He has no friends. He feels nothing towards his family. Due to his adaption to life, he has a lot of free time, which led him to become quite observant. He knows which peacekeeper you can slide by with, which shop in town will have extra scraps in their trash on which day. Aalto can pick up on the tiniest of things most of the time.

Weapon of Choice: Doesn't really matter, knifes are good. If it comes down to it, he will fighter hand to hand combat.

Played by: Parrott

Reaping-

Fear.  I awake to a hypothetical rumble of never ending fear. Of course not coming from me. I don't care what the outcome of today is. I don't care who gets reaped, or who volunteers, if anyone, or who will cry for the sacrificed lives. 

I don't have feelings.  I was born this way.  It's an adaptation to the world I was about to be born into, at least that's how my mother likes to explain it to people.

My only sibling, my twin brother, is the opposite of me.  He has blonde hair and green eyes, I have black hair and blue eyes. He's muscular, I'm lean. He's resembles our family heritage. I am an odd outlier. He's a lovable, emotional, respected guy.  I'm dead inside.

I stumble out of bed, and down the stairs. The rest of the town is asleep,  but faintly, if you cared enough to listen, you can hear the restless stomps coming from the waking animals. 

I pull on a jacket, and grab my gloves,  reaping day or not, the animals need to be tended to. 

There's a layer of dew on the ground, drenching my worn boots. As I near the first barn, I can hear voices in it. Voices that I don't recognize as family.

I pull out my switchblade, it may be dull, but it could hurt someone pretty bad. 

I enter the barn from the side,  a secret way only I really know how to maneuver. 

I hide behind stacked hay.  Just as I thought, a couple of guys from across town was standing with a sheep tied to a rope. 

"They will never notice one sheep missing. The peacekeepers will just think they're trying to scam the government or something." One of the men whispers.