Writer Games: Amnesia

District Eight Male - Nobody Westing - AKA-Anonymous

Name: Nobody Westing

Age: 17

District: 8

Gender: M

Appearance: Nobody isn't incredibly remarkable in any particular way. He isn't especially attractive, nor especially ugly. He couldn't be described as tall or short, skinny or fat, dark or light. Nobody is simply average. His scraggly hair is that common shade of mosey hazel that can't seem to decide whether it is brown or blonde. Over his hair he always wears a tight grey beanie that he can't stop playing with, always tugging it to try and cover his ears. His dark brown eyebrows are definitely on the thicker side as they hang over his almond-shaped grey eyes. His skin is pale, flushing easily with any prolonged exposure to the cold or warmth.

Personality: Nobody isn't quite sure who he is. He isn't sure if he is mean or kind, funny or serious, meek or fierce. While the other tributes seemed to fall into the rhythm of who they were without even trying after Tabula Rasa, Nobody struggled skyrocketing from one extreme to another. In fact there are only two things Nobody is sure about himself, the first being that he is incredibly dryly sarcastic no matter what his current persona is, the other being that he is a one-man walking demolition team. Wherever he seems to go havoc seems to tag unrelentingly on his heels; equipment breaks, lights fall, or people get seriously injured. This either amuses him or devastates him depending on his current state of mind. Either way, Nobodys' found that things go smoothest for everyone if they don't go near him.

Best/Worst Memory: The one memory that remains in Nobody's brain is a peculiar one. In fact he can't comprehend how it could be his best and worst memory. He's not even sure it's his. The memory is of a woman lying in a unmade bed, her eyes are closed and her skin is flushed. Nobody has no idea whether or not she is dead. Her blondish brown hair piled into a bun atop her head, a few stray hairs framing her aging face. Two infants lie in her arms. They were ugly infants with their red skin and slimy bodies. They move their little hands clasped in tiny little fists, the baby on the right brushes the one on the left's face and he stopped moving his hands falling to his sides limply. A few girls run around the woman frantically like a flock of unsettle hens, yelling commands that never reached Nobody's ears. On the other side of the room a door opens and a man with a scruffy beard peers in, his strikingly blue eyes filled with worry. One of the girls throws herself between him and the bed, her back is to Nobody so he has no clue as to what what she says to the man, but quite apparently it's bad because the memory shatters with the man pinching his eyes shut and screaming with such a pain that it doesn't sound human.

Reaction to Being Reaped: Nobody looked over his shoulder confused at first as everyone started to look at him and his face filled the screen. He wasn't used to having people notice him. It was kind of scarier than being reaped. When it became evident there wasn't some type of mistake he swallowed hard and trudged up to the stage trying to look strong. He failed. When the escort offered him the microphone, politely asking him if there was anything he wanted to say to his district, Nobody said the only thing he felt really described his situation. "Crap. I'm fucking career bait."

Weapon of Choice: Nobody has a tendency to break weapons, after the seventh sword snapped in training Nobody was asked to leave, so due to his lack of experience with any, Nobody doesn't have a preference. He figures he will just grab whatever he can get his hands on in the bloodbath without dying painfully.

Token: His grey beanie of course. There isn't much of a reason behind his choice other than it's cozy and keeps his head warm.