Sierra Ivanovich

''This article belongs to Luscious Crinkles. Only he can edit this without permission.''

 Character Outline= District 13   Age: 16

Day of Birth: November 23

Height: 5'9 feet

Weaponry: Sierra, having grown up in the military environment of her district, is very skilled with guns, rifles, and shivs. Hence she has advantages in long and melee ranges, giving her combat versatility and fatality.

Appearance: Sierra has a pretty bob cut hairdo, black and straight. Matching the curtains are her windows, though having a lighter shade. Marks of her adolescence are her freckles, scattered across her cheeks. Sierra also noticeably towers over average women, and approximately equal to the height of average men. Additionally, she is fair-skinned and has scars on her hands, an evidence of her rigorous training as a soldier. Sierra, according to herself, is of Russian-Japanese descent.

Alliance: Anti-Careers, as she was trained to go against the Capitol and its allies.

Personality: The only word that best describes Sierra is cold; but not because she is absolutely cold. She just lacks in friendliness and warmth of feeling unless mingled with. Nonetheless, the strict and military practice she underwent before developed her mindset into a quiet and serious person, that anybody would prefer to ally with in survival. However, Sierra remains caring for those who also care for her.

Strengths: Sierra possesses remarkable accuracy and alertness wherever she is. These help her utilize her weaponry properly and quickly. In addition, she has above-average intelligence that aids her in creating tactics and strategies to ensure her survival.

Weaknesses: Sierra is incapable of attracting any possible allies towards her direction. Not actually shy, but unsociable, she acts awkwardly in a casual conversation. Her patience is also relatively short so any hindrances, like immature and coward comrades, would greatly annoy her.

Fear: Sierra fears death to a great degree. This also serves a driving force behind her wants to survive. She cares for the lives of those who trust in her guidance and her loss of them would give her heavy emotional burdens. Backstory= Sierra was born to a dysfunctional couple who resided in District 13. The abject relationship of her parental figures greatly affected her life, due to being exposed to everyday quarreling and dispute. She soon found a way to temporarily escape her troubled living by volunteering for the military training in the underground district, at the age of eight. Sierra displayed potency in becoming a soldier, an adept in the battlefield. Her harsh upbringing helped her cope with the fact that she cannot live as a soldier without killing anybody. Later on her fourteenth year alive, Sierra got tired of the sounds of bullets and cannons, and she volunteered once more for another session of training, now focusing on espionage. Sierra then became prominent in the whole district and is currently one of the youngest members who actively participates in bringing down the Capitol.

Part One
 The hours are slowly ticking by. She can tell when she occasionally glances at the great grandfather clock opposite of her. With every swing of the pendulum, she tapped her long fingernails, polished and neatly cut, on the mahogany desk. She was obviously waiting for something, or somebody. Then she went back to browsing folders of confidential papers lying in front of her. She chuckled at whatever is printed in the files, and ceased her finger-tapping to flip the pages faster. "I wake up early, they said. I wait for their orders, they said." she whined. Again she tapped her fingernails on the table, creating minute crescent marks on the varnished surface. Judging how numerous these marks were, she had been waiting for quite a long time. She was near to drifting into a nap, but she was instantly halted after a buzzing noise shocked her. It came from the small portable speaker placed on her room desk.

The woman picked it up and anticipated the orders she had been waiting for since that morning. Before someone spoke, she heard the rustling of papers on the opposite line. "Ivanovich?" somebody asked cautiously, as if not to disturb the woman from whatever she was doing. "Yes, sir?" she answered with all the respect she developed for the conversing man, while attempting to hide her apparent impatience. She could burst at any moment if provoked. To cope with the situation, she reread the privy files on her desk while listening to the words of her chief. "Perhaps you have worn the guise already?" the man on the other line asked. He was obviously being sarcastic, considering the time that the woman spent on waiting. "Already done, sir. What is the next move?" she replied in a serious tone, negating the slight slur she noticed. The sound of closing a hardbound book was heard from the other man, then he spoke, "You'll be working outside."

The woman immediately stood up without any hesitance. Noticing she turned haggard as she waited for her chief's orders, she proceeded to a full-body mirror, lined with sparkling silver. She fixed her spurious blonde wig's pigtails and affixed a large bow on the left side of her head. "Fancy, but still, ridiculous." the woman commented regarding her get-up, and making a reference to the silly fashion of Capitol citizens. She fetched her handbag and donned a wireless communication earpiece behind her ear. Before carrying it within her purse, the woman flipped the pages of her file folder, reading the personal information about her assumed identity. "Sarah Ingram—fashionista, socialite, extrovert" she murmured what her eyes had skimmed. The woman, temporarily acquainted as 'Sarah', proceeded to exit her rented room and into the building's luxurious elevator. On every step she took, her dangling accessories rustled in an oddly satisfying tone.

In the elevating machine, Sarah met with a queer pair of indistinguishable men. While not having the exact same facial features, they share body type and manners. In addition, the two were both formally dressed in a pearl-white tuxedo and reptilian leather shoes. Their dark brown hairdo was greatly slicked backwards, literally pressed at the back of their heads. Breaking the silence inside that tight area, the two greeted a simultaneous "Good day" and yet in monotone. Sarah is informed that back-ups were sent for her, but she never expected they would appear as such. She wants them a bit more... manly. She simply replied a sweet "Good day, too" without rotating her head to look. In fact, the elevator's interior is plated with numerous reflective mirrors to see what surrounds its passengers. A three-note sound was played and a loud ping! ushered the opening of the elevator doors. Sarah stepped out, and the pair of men behind her did the same. "So these two are soldiers?" she wondered and doubted their appearance, but anyone would do the same if they knew Sarah was an undercover soldier. Not before she could reach the lobby, Sarah heard a buzzing sound from her communication earpiece. Actually, it even surprised her. "Ivanovich—Sarah, rather, have you met up with the ones I sent?" her chief spoke with an airy voice. She replied a yes, but the tension of the conversation seemed not to decrease.

"You see, Sarah, the spies I sent as your company saw two unidentified men accompanying you." He continued, "do you happen to know them?" His finger-tapping on his desk can be heard on the opposite line. Sarah stopped walking towards the hotel exit and promptly proceeded to the comfort rooms nearby. She locked the doorknob and looked at herself in the mirrors as she conversed. "No, sir. But they seemed to know me, so I thought—" her reply was cut by the loud banging of the door. The two men outside were asking if she was fine but their constant thudding was increasing in loudness. She reopened the door, but instead of the men calmly receiving her, she was harshly assaulted. Sarah got pushed back inside and the two men locked the doorknob again. Them three were inside the comfort room and the pair proceeded to interrogate her, while one withdrew a pistol and aimed at her head. "We know you're an agent, Sierra. The moment you took step in our territory, we were sent looking for you." one of the men discussed. The other became sarcastic in pulling the pistol's trigger to evoke the fear in Sarah, or considering she has been unveiled, Sierra. "I am sorry about the lack of protection, we don't have much resource." the man on the other line humbly apologized. Yet Sierra replied, "I still want to say thank you. Actually I need some excitement to drive me."

By the last syllable of her sentence, a series of punches and falls can be heard from outside. The bathroom mirrors, apparently, were also broken in the fight. The facilitating women in the lobby did not budge since they were busy with calls from customers, but soon did they hung their phones after seeing Sierra strutting towards the lobby, haggard and sort of ruined. Fortunately she survived the fight.

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