Brenna Placidia

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Basic Information
Name: Brenna Placidia

Age: Twelve

District: Eight (One, Six)

Gender: Female

Personality: While Brenna might strike people as a nice girl, she truly isn't. She's not mean, but describing her as nice is inaccurate. She has her times when she's nice and kind, but it's not all the time. She tends to be anti-social and conservative to other tributes as she doesn't want to make allies, in fear of either losing them like she did with Rosita and Mr. Savior or that she'll have to leave them like she did with her mother, Monica. Brenna is courageous and willing to risk her lives to those she loves, but she cannot say that she's not afraid. Even though she's courageous, she makes her decisions by ignoring her fears instead of thinking about them.

Weaponry: Brenna is twelve and hasn't trained with weaponry at all so her options are very limited. Since she can't handle weapons like maces or spears since they're too heavy for her, she relies mainly upon a knife and a net. She uses a similar strategy to Finnick Odair, trapping her victim first before killing. She can practically make a net out of anything―vines, ropes, et cetera―and no matter what she makes a net out of, it's always hard and rough to get out of when you're already trapped. With a knife, she uses it to stab someone in the chest or stomach, although she can never look at the person she killed because it haunts her memories, instead, she closes her eyes right when she digs it into them.

Appearance: 

History:  I was born into a poor family and have been starving since I was born. With my biological family, I never had a place to call home or even clothes that weren't hand-me-downs. But this isn't the worst part about my childhood, I've reached a point where I was nearly dead. When I was nearly two months old, I was diagnosed with diphtheria, which is fatal to an infant. But what people don't realize is how serious the disease really is. Surely, I don't remember all that happened, I was still an infant, but Mr. Savior told me everything about the disease and what happened to me. When he saved me, the back of my throat was so thick that I couldn't even breathe correctly and I couldn't even move my limbs. Since I was so sick and I was no use to my parents, they put me up for adoption, but not before completely ruining them. They cut off all my hair to use in wigs and didn't even drop me off in clothes, just naked on the doorstep without even a blanket. But even through the ugliness, Mr. Savior saw light and potential in me and sent me right to a doctor moments after adopting me. Before I was even a year old, Mr. Savior was able to pay for all the medical bills from my diphtheria and I was able to enjoy a pretty normal childhood. Mr. Savior was so generous with everything he gave me, even though I didn't need any of it. But he insisted and I just nodded my head. Mr. Savior was as rich as he could be, since he was a Capitol official who had a possibility of being president. And due to this, he'd never told me his real name, so I just call him Mr. Savior since he saved me. During the Hunger Games, though, he would leave for a few weeks during it and I would occasionally see him on the television, but never really understood what he did, since I was illiterate at the time. But I would enjoy the three weeks with Ms. Rosita, a babysitter who had a permanent smile on her face. She always had stories to tell and games to play. She was exactly what I wanted. However one year, when she was five, Mr. Savior never returned. She stared at the television screens as other Capitol citizens were talking about something that happened to someone. But what I didn't know is that all the people were talking about how Derek Redmond, or Mr. Savior, was mysterious poisoned during the Hunger Games. It was one of the first years where I didn't have to watch the entire Hunger Games since my father was killed, but I didn't know what was happening. By the time I turned six, I finally was able to comprehend everything that was happening. I learned how to read basic words and how to write. Rosita adopted me as her child, but she left me as well when her brother, who was three years younger than her, was reaped in the Hunger Games and met a terrible end within the first three minutes of the bloodbath. She, too, left me that day and committed suicide since she "had nobody left". Well what about me? Without Mr. Savior and Rosita, I was officially an orphan, since my biological parents were probably dead as well since they were starving. I lived in an orphanage with children who were almost old enough to leave in a few years. There was only one child younger than me, and he was adopted two days after I showed up. But unlike the boy, I was never adopted again. I became distant from the other children, both at the orphanage and at school. I learned how to do things myself, without anyone else's help, since it seemed like so many people gave up on me―from my parents to Mr. Savior to Rosita. I felt like I would never have a family again. And I would never have a home again. And I would never be happy again. And I would never smile again. It's almost like a permanent frown was carved into my face! And every story usually ends with a prince kissing the princess or the girl meets her family again, but mine didn't. Instead, I became more upset as the years pass. When I was seven, there were roughly twenty other children at the orphanage, but when I was eight, there was only eleven left. And I understood why I was never adopted. I was too old to say that I was a baby and to get use to me, but I was too young that I could make a profit from. I was at the worst age for adoption, and I wasn't going to be adopted any time soon. But finally, my prayers were answered by a fifteen year old girl named Monica Placidia. While she was extremely young to actually adopt a child, she already gave birth to one and had to drop out of high school due to it. She still lived with her parents, unsure of what to do with her life, but nonetheless, I admired her and was anxious to go home with her. When I was originally taken home at the age of nine, I was behind the standard education, but my mother helped me catch up within a year. Since she no longer went to school and only had to work during the night, she taught me from adding to dividing, from grammar to idioms, etc. Everything that I learned in my early education seemed like nothing compared to what I learned in this year. When I was ten, I started to learn things at a freshmen level. And when I was eleven, I was being taught the rest of my mother's knowledge before she dropped out of school. I wasn't a genius, not like those tributes from District 3 who are born with a textbook in their hand, but I did have a higher knowledge than most my age. And that will really help me out in the Hunger Games. By the time of my first reaping, I wasn't scared. I had one slip with my name in, but I greatly feared about my mother being reaped. And, as if I was a fortune teller, I heard the escort announce the tribute as Monica Placidia, my mother. And I volunteered. And I couldn't keep myself from smiling once I told the escort I wasn't Monica's sister, I was her daughter.

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