Author Games Compilation [Cycle 2]

Moire Holiday [Tribute Form]

Author Games: Canon

Name: Moire Holiday

Age: 17

District: Eight

Sex: Male

Physical Appearance: Moire is a thin and wiry individual of average height and an even more average state of being. He is pretty - never handsome - in a simple sense, with a crisp jawline, bony shoulders, and a sharp skull smoothed over with ruby flesh and pale skin, deepened in color only somewhat by lasting impressions of Eight's cold sun. His lips are rather thin and his brows a bit thicker than he might like, but Moire is all about making do. Still, he sees the flaws in his body on an hourly basis. His hips aren't wide enough, knuckles not smooth enough, feet not small enough. There are few things he can appreciate, though, like the softness of his light brown hair, the length of his legs, and the rich amber of his eyes. Most of the time, the smoke and grime of the factories covers all of these things anyways, but upon returning home he takes great care to cleanse the dirt from under his long nails and skin. Hygiene is important, after all, and if he can't get a decent meal, at least he can do this.

Personality: Typically, children in Eight don't have too difficult a time finding company; the girls chase each other down and the boys wrestle playfully behind the factories. Moire, however, has never been quite sure where he fits, and has instead opted to remain all by his lonesome, carrying on with his work and speaking few words. His timid demeanor hasn't exactly helped his attempts at making friends. At this point, however, he's unbothered, and he's often considered one of the hardest workers simply because he has nothing else to do. Work passes the time well. It goes without saying that he's familiar with independence and personal responsibility. That's not to say he's cold and withdrawn from the rest of the world - he actually looks upon a great many things with compassion and a sense of nurturing. It's too bad he doesn't often have the initiative to help those in need of it. It's hard for him to find motivation in general. Even getting out of bed in the morning takes a lot of mental coaxing, and once the work day is done, he's content to collapse right back where he started, face shoved in a pillow and the curtains pulled to a close. At the very least, it keeps him from having to look at himself.

Background: Moire doesn't come from any fancy family that has their own specific business in Eight. His parents worked in the factories when they were kids, and now he follows in their footsteps. On a daily basis, he'll head over to a factory that makes patterned coverings for couches, cushions, armchairs, all the comfortable furniture stuff that his family can't afford. After a long day's work, he'll head home to the fifth floor of a nearby tenement with windows that just don't clear up no matter how hard you scrub them. His mother, Ollison (45), will hug him when he comes through the door, and his father, Graham (43), will look up from his books and nod at him in acknowledgement. In the hall he might find one of his brothers, Cade (19), rubbing the sleep of a power nap from his warm eyes. His oldest brother, Scrim (22), has recently moved out but visits often, unfortunately with his fiance, Carnadine Rust. Moire has the running suspicion that she's pregnant, but that's none of his business. He doesn't like her much - she's not rich, but she's always been wealthier than the Holidays, and around them, her nose turns up. His aunt - another Holiday, Sinoper - visits on a regular basis too, and she's the one he's close to, the one he enjoys the company of most. She's casual, knows how to listen, knows how to be a friend and give advice that matters. Aside from all this, there's nothing more to note about Moire, really. His life is uneventful in the best way.

Reaped or Volunteered? Reaped

Weapon of Choice: Not only is owning a weapon punishable by death, he's from Eight. How would he know?

Token: His aunt's red lipstick. She'd left it at their home and, running late, Moire grabbed it just to have something to take to the Reaping.