The Fourth Annual Writer Games: Canon

District Three Female - Pixel Mira

For whom the Reaper beckons: that is what I shall determine.

Name: Pixel Mira

Age: 17

District: 3

Sex: Female

Physical Appearance: with warm, golden skin and a crown of midnight-black curls atop her head; Pixel knows that she's pretty. Her face is splattered with freckles as though whoever had painted them lost care and flung their paintbrush at the canvas that is her body in hopes it would turn out alright. It did. These freckles only highlight the small, muddy flecks of brown that swim within the ocean blue of her eyes. Her eyebrows are constantly arched as though she were considering the intelligence of those around her and it's not because she means for it to look this way; that's just the way nature had carved her out of a block of clay. Her stature sits at a comfortable 5'10" and is adorned with the muscles of someone who has been training to kill since the moment she was born. Her legs are long; her frame embedded with an agility that is most mesmerizing. Now, about the lips that complete the masterpiece that is her face; they are full and curve down at the edges as though a smile had never learned to affix itself amongst the rest of her features. In a world of gadgets and machinery; Pixel can't help but feel that her own body is comprised of a whole mess of parts that shouldn't work together but do somehow.

Personality: Pix is quiet; and not because she doesn't like to talk, or like the sweet song of her own voice but because she hates that most others do not understand the language she speaks. She is incredibly brilliant- a whiz with computers and her brain seems to work as though it computed at the same speed as these technologies she tinkers with. With this silence comes a quiet understanding of those around her and a caring that runs deeply through the river of her veins, although she wouldn't admit that to anyone. She knows that she must kill, and she has absolutely no problem with it (in fact, I'd dare say there resides within her a desire to take life) for survival is her end game. Within her lack of speech, Pixel has found a knack for catching details others may have missed. She prides herself on being able to spot shifts in someone's demeanor and small objects that would otherwise go unnoticed. This has made it so she rarely finds the ability to attach herself to other people, and relationships (platonic and not) are rarely worth her time considering most do not appreciate her mind the way it deserves to be appreciated. She finds it impossible to quit a task, which leads her into a descent of madness that drives her to work until it is complete. Some would say this makes her perseverant; she knows that this gives her a chance to be caught up in her insanity. This is a part of herself she finds it hard to like. She's in the process of accepting herself how she is, but that is made more and more difficult every day.

Background: The daughter of an Inventor and Engineer, Pix is no stranger to hard work. She has seen her parents gone for a majority of the day and oftentimes into the night for little to no gain. Pixel believes she inherited most of her mother's genes when considering her own intelligence and as such she has spent many days shadowing her mother at work. She wants to be an Inventor, but her mother has often scolded her for how easily frustrated she gets if she doesn't succeed. Which is maybe her downfall. Pix can get so caught up in her own rare instances of failure that it feels as though she's drowning just below the surface of the water; perpetually anchored to the bottom of an ocean as she tries desperately to reach for the sun she can feel caressing her face. This place, this time when she wishes she had a self-destruct button is where she feels most alone and misunderstood. Not that loneliness is synonymous with the air of melancholy dancing about her head and that she ever was truly understood in the first place. In fact, she quite prefers the moments in which she doesn't have to bother entertaining the boring speech of another human. She has no siblings, and why would her parents have wanted another when they have her?

Reaped or Volunteered?Volunteered, of course. Are there people that actually DON'T wanna participate?

Weapon of Choice: being that she's good with her hands, Pixel loves her shiny dagger.

Token: a thin, fraying wire that her mother had pulled out of a computer. She wears this now as a bracelet.

Other: nothing else to add, really. At least, nothing Pixel would want anyone else knowing.