Violet Dionaea is a Tribute created byYoonie. Please, refrain from using her without Yoonie's permission as she belongs to the person who made her.
Name: Violet Dionaea
Weapons: Axe, knives
Personality: Violet is a mild, calm girl. She is very caring to everyone she encounters and always thinks the better of people. Your first impression of her might be a shy, inclosed girl, but once you get to know her, she will open up to you and show herself off as a true-loyal friend. Violet is very passionate and determined in everything she does, and never gives up on something or someone. She has pretty low self-confidence, and takes a lot of what other people tell her to the heart. She becomes flustered when she is complimented or boasted of.
Backstory: Hello, my name is Violet, Violet Dionaea.
I was born in the Capitol, the capital city of Panem. My parents were both stylists for the Hunger Games, they worked together on the District Four chariots and the District Four Tributes´ interview outfits in harmony for many, many years. My mother and father´s name is Mars and Venus Dionaea, and like their names implies they were like made for eachother from the moment they met. They met about three years before they had me, at the first meeting for the new stylists for the Hunger Games. Both my mother and father had worked and studied tirelessly for years before that day to become stylists in the first place, and they, since they were new, were stuck with District Twelve at the beginning. From that day forward, they were a team, and they worked really hard to get up in the ranks. They became known as the dynamic duo of Stylists, and their creations were viewed as masterpieces. After three years they announched that they were enaged, and not long after that, my mother was pregant with me. Mars and Venus became even more well-known in the Capitol then, and only a year afterwards, a few months after I had been born, they got the position of Stylists for District Four, a great honor and a well-fougth prize for their hard work and dedication.
My childhood was very good, to say it like that. Since my parents were so successful, they naturally were very rich and well-off, like most people of the Capitol. We lived in a fancy neighbourhood only a few minutes walk to the City Centre, the busy heart of the city. Growing up in such a big city was often dangerous, since traffic was very heavy and it was very easy to get lost, but my parents were always careful with letting me go outside alone. Which meant never in my life. It was safe, though. My parents were very nice otherwise though. During my earliest years, they half-way encouraged me, half-way forced me to get an interest in music, spesifically the piano. Even though I hated it at first, it quickly grew on me and I developed a strong bond with my piano teacher, Mrs. Fia. She was a nice, though a bit too strict sometimes, lady who taugth the kids of rich people to play piano. She would always brag about me, that I was her best student, and I remember I was so proud to be approved of her, since she was a very talented pianist. It wasn´t just Mrs. Fia I bonded with, the piano my mother had bougth as well. Somehow, the instrument spoke to me, different than any person had ever done. It was magical, and soon I can say I was quite good at it. My parents were a bit too proud sometimes, calling me the next rising piano star or whatever. I never much cared for becoming famous of my talent, just to be able to play when I was feeling down or cheer other people up.
School was pretty well. I was one of the shy kids, those who sit back in class and don´t talk much at all. I really only had one friend, Tabby. She was the daughter of one of the political leaders of Panem, but she wasn´t a snob like you would think, she was the nicest person you would ever meet, even. But nobody except me ever talked to her, or even noticed her at all, except when they bullied her. And the only reason for that was because she had cleft lips. The other kids in our class would pick on her and make fun of her for her differences, sometimes me too, since I was friends with her. Even Tabby´s father bullied her, but in another way. He would ignore her for days at an end, because of the disgrace she had put on their family, or so he claimed. However, Tabby never cried, not as saw anyways. Even when her father insisted on removing her cleft lip, she refused to, rather wanting to be proud of her difference than to hide it. I always admired her for her bravery, and stood by her, even when other kids started to bully me almost as much as they did to her. Through grade school we were always together, and I invited her over to my house as much as I could, since I knew Tabby hated to be home with her father.
When I was twelve years old, my parents decided to put me into a summer camp. Tabby´s father hadn´t signed the form, so she had to stay home. Even though I would only be gone for maybe two months, the goodbye with Tabby was still heartbreaking. I knew how tough she was going to have it without me as a lfieline, stuck with her hating father all alone in their house. It was even harder to say goodbye to her than to my parents, even though I would be gone from them as well. When I left, Tabby gave me some violet flowers to me before I went into the taxi. I hugged her and accepted the flowers with gratitude, before jumping into the cab. I still have those flowers, throughout all those years. But sometimes I wish I could throw them away, because they carry tough memories.
The summer camp was one of the best times I ever had in my whole life. At first I was nervous, because having to interact with that many new people was at first scary, but when I got there and started to greet everyone, it struck me how nice everyone were. I quickly bonded with a few girls, and we soon formed kind of a gang. We stayed together at activities and discussed all kids of things. They weren´t totally girly-girls either, they were more like me, more interested in music than boys and gossip. Those long nights with sleepovers while trying to pretend like we were sleeping when the supervisors came was some of the best times. There was a lot of laugher at that camp, and maybe a few tears here and there, but it was overall a very positive experience. I even had my first romantic relationship in camp. He was a boy a year older than me, his name was Alfred and for the last months of camp we were a couple. At first, me and him didn´t like eachother much, mainly because he accidentally pushed me into the fountain at the first day of camp. But over the weeks, I started to talk to him more and more, and he became as much as a friend as my other female friends. I started to feel a connection with him, and one night, by the campfire at the daily gathering, he kissed me. At first I was surprised, but then I realized I enjoyed it, and we started to date. However, the relationship was short-lived. When camp was over, we promised eachother that we would keep in tough, but weeks and weeks went on but he never took contact again. I didn´t lose contact with the other people I met on camp though. But when I introduced them to Tabby, she seemed off for some reason. Slowly, we started to grow apart. I started to hang out more with my new friends, and Tabby started to shut herself away from me and them. I tried to reach for her, but she pushed me away more and more. Finally, it came to a point where I couldn´t see her as my friend anymore.
Then, one day when I was thirteen years old, me and the rest of my class got the devastating news in the middle of school. Tabby had commited suicide, she had been found by her father after they had had a fight. He had threathened to send her away. Tabby had been found in the bathtub, with her wrists slit, swimming in her own blood. The news about her death shocked me, and I immediately started to cry. It was at least a year since we had been what we used to be, best friends forever, but I was still very distraugt. For many weeks afterwards I mostly just stayed in my room. My parents and my friends tried to get me to come out and liven up, but the truth was that I couldn´t. The only thing I had left after Tabby was the violet roses she had given me before I went to summer camp, the last time I was with her when everything was as it always had been between us. I was in so much despair, I hadn´t even noticed that my parents were also very sad for some reason, but I didn´t understand the full gravity of it before a few months later. My mother came up to my room in the afternoon, to tell me that she and my father had lost their jobs as Stylists in the Hunger Games, because of the catastrophe that their creation had caused in last year´s Games. The loan was starting to accumulate now that they didn´t have a job, and they had failed to find other jobs as well, since the Stylist career is a very one-sided one. They told me that we would be moving in a week´s time, to one of the Districts. I was heartbroken, and the goodbye with my friends was tearful and horrible. I wanted to stay in touch with them, but I knew that wouldn´t happen, no matter how hard I tried. So me and my parents and packed all our stuff, and headed for District Six, for some God-awful reason.
The new lifestyle in District Six was rough. We struggled very much in the beginning to find our place. Since most people in the Districts hate people from the Capitol with a burning passion, we had a hard time trying to fit in. The fact that both my parents used to work for the Hunger Games was also a very big set-back. We had managed to save up a decent saving before moving, so we were not exactly poor, but not nearly as well off as we had been in the Capitol. Most people in my school avoided me or made fun of me, whatever best suited them. I tried to ignore them, but it was harder and harder when I didn´t have anyone there with me to pull me through. My parents got some badly paid jobs in a factory, the working conditions were almost as bad as the pay. I now realized what a fantasyland the Capitol really was in contrast to the Districts. I always knew that the rest of Panem were not as rich as us in the Capitol, but I could never have imagined something of this magnitude. Now the Hunger Games wasn´t just simple entertainment anymore, I realized there were real people being sacrificed for them, real kids just like me. In fact, they were almost exactly like me, because I was reaped when I was fifteen years old, after living in District Six for two years. I have never experienced true terror before the Escort called my name, and I knew what was going to happen. I´m scared to go into the Games, but there is one thing I have to my advantage; determination. I won´t let anyone I love down ever again, like I did to Tabby. I can´t leave my parents now, not after everything they´ve lost.
Fears: Violet has always been scared of water, ever since she was a small girl on her mother´s lap. That is because when she was five years old, she was watching the Hunger Games with her parents. The Career pack of that year was hunting in some sort of jungle Arena, when all of a sudden, a giant tidal wave flushed in and took them away, screaming. Violet never forgot their screams while they drowned. Violet is also a very nervous girl and she gets very easily scared of simple ghost stories. Therefore she is also very scared of the dark and being alone in the night.