If this is a personal message, just sit on back and wait for the tone.
If this is a personal message, just sit on back and wait for the tone.
OUT of CHARACTER
Name: Amry
Other characters: Cyrus Reagan (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
currupted), Cecil Palmer (void_whereprohibited)
IN CHARACTER
Name: Atlas Fairweather
Alias: N/A
Fandom: N/A
Journal:vox_tacenda
PB: Isaiah Mustafa
Age: 45
History: Atlas is a native of District 2. His father, while not Capitol-appointed, had a high management position in a major stoneworking facility; his mother was District-born as well, a schoolteacher in high enough favor to work among the Capitol appointees. Though the relationship didn’t last long after his birth, both were both well-liked by the local Capitol-appointed officials, and Atlas lived comfortably growing up, moving between their homes.
Atlas was a Career Tribute, trained from a young age to fight in the Arena, and he loved it – he believed with his whole heart that getting to represent his District was the best, brightest future he could ask for, and he volunteered every year for the chance to prove himself in the greatest contest in all of Panem. Unfortunately, every year he was passed up. He was strong, athletic, handsome, and personable, but he lacked the wild ruthlessness the Gamemakers wanted from a Career. Every year another volunteer was chosen. And finally, he outgrew his chance at the Games. He joined the Peacekeepers, and after training was sent to work in the Districts. The physical work was a good transition from his years spent training for the Games, and he was pleased to get to do his duty; but he always regretted having lost his chance at glory.
His time in the Peacekeepers ended when he was 35. He was on duty in District Twelve when, in the course of a normal patrol, he fell down an old mineshaft, decrepit and hidden—shattering a really frightening number of the bones in his left leg. He survived, but was declared no longer fit for Peacekeeper duty, allowed to retire, and put back together in the Capitol. He was granted naturalization and allowed to remain in the Capitol in light of both his faithful duty to the Peacekeepers, and his family’s history of faithful service.
Walking with a new limp, unfit for most of the physical labor he’d most enjoyed, Atlas was stuck taking security jobs where he could get them – and one of those places was handling Avoxes. Keeping them in order, moving them from place to place when they were called for, watching them for signs of weakening conditioning, making sure they were healthy and productive and accounted for. A job without a lot of prestige for someone whose job had once involved some danger, but a paycheck better than nothing.
In the end, though, he stuck around. When his contract was up, he signed on for more permanent work with the Avoxes. He stayed because he liked it. Because he was good at it. Because he found the Avoxes consistent, easy to work with, and easy to understand, and their role in keeping the Capitol running important enough to preserve. And more than that, working in the Training Center meant working among the Tributes – the closest he would ever get to his lifelong dream of fighting in the Games. That’s where he’s been ever since.
Presentation: Atlas is a big guy – broad-shouldered, barrel-chested, tall, with a booming laugh and voice that fills up a room. He’s forthright to the point of being brash, the kind of person who forms his opinion of you in the moment he meets you and doesn’t lightly change it afterward. If he likes you, you'll know it; if you don't, you'll definitely know it. He’s friendly and personable to most by default, and agreeable for the most part; though when he really digs his heels in on a subject his mind is nearly impossible to change.
His opinions don’t change often, but his mood is much more volatile. He swings between happy and angry with little provocation in either direction. But getting him to back off or assuaging his anger can be as easy as distracting him, and once he feels amends have been made he doesn’t cling to a grudge. (The operative point being once he feels amends have been made.)
Around the Avoxes, he’s rarely unfriendly or angry. He likes them, and it shows in the way he moves around them, the way they can't get his temper up. In fact, he talks to them a lot, sort of like the way people in empty houses talk to their pets. Less so in public, where that kind of interaction would be inappropriate, but working in their quarters, who else is there to talk to?
Atlas was District-born, but grew up hoping for his time in the limelight and conscious of how he looked on camera. He takes care of his appearance, and while his clothes are never Capitol-couture ridiculous, he keeps up with fashions as best he can, and has resisted aging more than most Districters feel the need to. His left leg is in a brace, which he keeps concealed; the limp is slight, but present.
Motivations: Atlas really, really believes in the system he grew up in. His greatest regret, in life, is not having been able to compete in the Hunger Games. He’s envious of the offworlders, in a way – he can’t think of anything more incredible than being allowed to compete again and again and again, to have as many opportunities as you could possibly want to bring glory to your District. No age limit, either – if he came from another world, even he could compete. He wishes he could be so lucky.
He doesn’t love violence for its own sake, though. No, Atlas only likes it where it’s supposed to be – on the screens, for people’s entertainment, and preferably involving volunteers. His love of the Games doesn’t come from a desire to inflict violence on people for its own sake – he wants to fulfill his starry-eyed childhood dream of being cheered and lauded for winning the contest in the name of his home. In Atlas’ mind, if he competed, even the people he killed in the Arena would have to appreciate that what he was doing was noble and right and thrilling and necessary.
In this, as in all things, Atlas adheres to a strict and specific personal code that happens to match almost exactly the one imposed on him by the Capitol. The subservience of the Districts, the sovereignty of the Capitol, the place of the Avoxes, the glory of the Games, the importance of the Tributes – these are the strictures he grew up with, the facts that define his world, and he could not imagine an existence where those things weren’t true. Argument against them is nonsensical to him. Rebellion against them is hateful.
His one soft spot is the Avoxes. There exists, deep inside Atlas, the potential to see humanity where his society denies it. Consciously, he sees the Avoxes as something subhuman, like he’s supposed to—like domesticated animals at best, who work best when they’re treated in the way most conducive to keeping them productive and unbreakably conditioned. But something in him feels protective of them, as well. He feels he understands them better than most, and for that, he must acknowledge that there is something left in them to understand.
It’s still dehumanizing, of course, and recognizes no injustice in the fact of their servitude. But it is a quiet, subconscious rebellion, the only denial of his system’s rightness he allows to creep into his personal worldview.
Name: Amry
Other characters: Cyrus Reagan (
currupted), Cecil Palmer (void_whereprohibited)IN CHARACTER
Name: Atlas Fairweather
Alias: N/A
Fandom: N/A
Journal:
vox_tacendaPB: Isaiah Mustafa
Age: 45
History: Atlas is a native of District 2. His father, while not Capitol-appointed, had a high management position in a major stoneworking facility; his mother was District-born as well, a schoolteacher in high enough favor to work among the Capitol appointees. Though the relationship didn’t last long after his birth, both were both well-liked by the local Capitol-appointed officials, and Atlas lived comfortably growing up, moving between their homes.
Atlas was a Career Tribute, trained from a young age to fight in the Arena, and he loved it – he believed with his whole heart that getting to represent his District was the best, brightest future he could ask for, and he volunteered every year for the chance to prove himself in the greatest contest in all of Panem. Unfortunately, every year he was passed up. He was strong, athletic, handsome, and personable, but he lacked the wild ruthlessness the Gamemakers wanted from a Career. Every year another volunteer was chosen. And finally, he outgrew his chance at the Games. He joined the Peacekeepers, and after training was sent to work in the Districts. The physical work was a good transition from his years spent training for the Games, and he was pleased to get to do his duty; but he always regretted having lost his chance at glory.
His time in the Peacekeepers ended when he was 35. He was on duty in District Twelve when, in the course of a normal patrol, he fell down an old mineshaft, decrepit and hidden—shattering a really frightening number of the bones in his left leg. He survived, but was declared no longer fit for Peacekeeper duty, allowed to retire, and put back together in the Capitol. He was granted naturalization and allowed to remain in the Capitol in light of both his faithful duty to the Peacekeepers, and his family’s history of faithful service.
Walking with a new limp, unfit for most of the physical labor he’d most enjoyed, Atlas was stuck taking security jobs where he could get them – and one of those places was handling Avoxes. Keeping them in order, moving them from place to place when they were called for, watching them for signs of weakening conditioning, making sure they were healthy and productive and accounted for. A job without a lot of prestige for someone whose job had once involved some danger, but a paycheck better than nothing.
In the end, though, he stuck around. When his contract was up, he signed on for more permanent work with the Avoxes. He stayed because he liked it. Because he was good at it. Because he found the Avoxes consistent, easy to work with, and easy to understand, and their role in keeping the Capitol running important enough to preserve. And more than that, working in the Training Center meant working among the Tributes – the closest he would ever get to his lifelong dream of fighting in the Games. That’s where he’s been ever since.
Presentation: Atlas is a big guy – broad-shouldered, barrel-chested, tall, with a booming laugh and voice that fills up a room. He’s forthright to the point of being brash, the kind of person who forms his opinion of you in the moment he meets you and doesn’t lightly change it afterward. If he likes you, you'll know it; if you don't, you'll definitely know it. He’s friendly and personable to most by default, and agreeable for the most part; though when he really digs his heels in on a subject his mind is nearly impossible to change.
His opinions don’t change often, but his mood is much more volatile. He swings between happy and angry with little provocation in either direction. But getting him to back off or assuaging his anger can be as easy as distracting him, and once he feels amends have been made he doesn’t cling to a grudge. (The operative point being once he feels amends have been made.)
Around the Avoxes, he’s rarely unfriendly or angry. He likes them, and it shows in the way he moves around them, the way they can't get his temper up. In fact, he talks to them a lot, sort of like the way people in empty houses talk to their pets. Less so in public, where that kind of interaction would be inappropriate, but working in their quarters, who else is there to talk to?
Atlas was District-born, but grew up hoping for his time in the limelight and conscious of how he looked on camera. He takes care of his appearance, and while his clothes are never Capitol-couture ridiculous, he keeps up with fashions as best he can, and has resisted aging more than most Districters feel the need to. His left leg is in a brace, which he keeps concealed; the limp is slight, but present.
Motivations: Atlas really, really believes in the system he grew up in. His greatest regret, in life, is not having been able to compete in the Hunger Games. He’s envious of the offworlders, in a way – he can’t think of anything more incredible than being allowed to compete again and again and again, to have as many opportunities as you could possibly want to bring glory to your District. No age limit, either – if he came from another world, even he could compete. He wishes he could be so lucky.
He doesn’t love violence for its own sake, though. No, Atlas only likes it where it’s supposed to be – on the screens, for people’s entertainment, and preferably involving volunteers. His love of the Games doesn’t come from a desire to inflict violence on people for its own sake – he wants to fulfill his starry-eyed childhood dream of being cheered and lauded for winning the contest in the name of his home. In Atlas’ mind, if he competed, even the people he killed in the Arena would have to appreciate that what he was doing was noble and right and thrilling and necessary.
In this, as in all things, Atlas adheres to a strict and specific personal code that happens to match almost exactly the one imposed on him by the Capitol. The subservience of the Districts, the sovereignty of the Capitol, the place of the Avoxes, the glory of the Games, the importance of the Tributes – these are the strictures he grew up with, the facts that define his world, and he could not imagine an existence where those things weren’t true. Argument against them is nonsensical to him. Rebellion against them is hateful.
His one soft spot is the Avoxes. There exists, deep inside Atlas, the potential to see humanity where his society denies it. Consciously, he sees the Avoxes as something subhuman, like he’s supposed to—like domesticated animals at best, who work best when they’re treated in the way most conducive to keeping them productive and unbreakably conditioned. But something in him feels protective of them, as well. He feels he understands them better than most, and for that, he must acknowledge that there is something left in them to understand.
It’s still dehumanizing, of course, and recognizes no injustice in the fact of their servitude. But it is a quiet, subconscious rebellion, the only denial of his system’s rightness he allows to creep into his personal worldview.
HMD / PERMISSIONS
Jul. 17th, 2015 10:33 am
Direct all character questions and critique to this post! I'd be happy to talk about anything with you. Also, if you'd prefer Atlas to tone down the way he talks about things like Arena violence or Avoxes, this is the place to let me know.
Anon commenting is on; comments are screened.
Atlas is a Disposable PC. There is no AC credit for threading with him.
