The Hunger Games (Writing Contest) [CLOSED]

Asher Lamping-Reaping

Name: Asher Lamping

Age: 14

Gender: Male

District: Four

Appearance: Long. He's extremely tall and gangly looking, really clumsy and thin. Asher sports fair skin, blonde hair on the silver or white side styled where there's a fringe hanging over his right eye and shorter hair on the left side. If you watch anime, think of a mix of Viktor Nikiforov and Lev Haiba. His eyes are a striking shade of violet close to the blue section of the color wheel. His face is proportional with his body so it's hard to describe it as long and pointed or compacted and squared.

Personality: Again, a little of Viktor and Lev. Playful with a hint of immaturity. Asher is a quick thinker and a deep thinker, processing a decision that doesn't need a reaction right away through every outcome. He's loyal as a dog and described as the friend who "never runs out of jokes". In a serious situation he's not comfortable with and knows he's fighting uphill, Asher will crack jokes to distract the attacker and turn the tables. However, if he's confident in the situation, he most likely won't back down. Humor and physical contact are his only and best ways of comfort, whether it be giving or receiving.

Skills: Social manipulation, sharp thinking, sharp senses, incredible jump.

Weapon: Something that's pointy at the end. Just kidding. Daggers, throwing knives, combat knives.

Played by-   dragon_mind

Reaping:

I'm really not one for dramatic backstory flashbacks (though, I'll give dramatic entrances an entirely new definition) and depressing, crippling, fear-ridden first impressions either. So, now what?

Hiya! My name's Asher Lamping. I've gone fourteen years without dying, currently taking residence in my parents' house of District Four, and I'm part of the noble male gender (I barely made it, they only had two left).

Oh, and I'm also the unfortunate male tribute for District Four in the annual Hunger Games.

Maybe ticking off Lane wasn't my greatest achievement of all time, as he was my only way of getting out of this, uh, predicament. Lane was supposed to volunteer this year but I, er, may have pranked him recently and he now holds a grudge against me. He refused to volunteer, therefore sending me to my doom. I still don't regret what I did though. Dying will totally be worth it, I think.

Anywho, yeah. I got reaped, my supposed savior baled out, and I am now a fish in shark infested waters. Hey, I'm from District Four. Expect a crapload of fishy puns your way for however much longer her I'm alive.

I lounged on the plush sofa of the Justice Hall, waiting for the Peacekeepers to come collect me. All my visits were done. It shouldn't be long.

I felt a ball of tingly sensations in the pit of my stomach and center of my chest. My mind, somewhere in the dark reaches of my subconscious, anticipated something happening and prepared the body attached to it in unease. Sometimes I wish my subconscious was a corporeal thing, something I could touch, just for the sole purpose of slapping it across the face and telling it to calm the fluff down. "You're waking up your neighbors," I'd say, gesturing to my body. "They're getting antsy because if you."

A boy can dream, I suppose.

Perhaps, in hindsight, I should've paid more attention to the surroundings as the figures in stark white uniforms escorted me to the train. Unfortunately, I was locked in a rather vicious battle with my mind and was losing. As it goes, I still lost and you got bored at my lack of descriptive words about how beautiful the forests I passed were supposed to be. I'll tell you this however, they were green as algae contaminated water.

Sighing, the echos of my name being called in a Capital accent bounced merrily in my head as I relaxed further into the train's cushions.

"Asher Lamping."

Oh, that's me.