D8B - Rayon Kesstnea
Nov 22, 2014 17:14:05 GMT -5
Post by Reco on Nov 22, 2014 17:14:05 GMT -5
Name: Rayon Kesstnea
Age: 14
Gender: male
District/Area: district 8
Appearance: or how to pass unnoticed
On first glance Rayon appears quite average. He‘s got short, reddish brown hair, some freckles over his nose and cheeks, and has bright blue eyes, which like freckles are also quite common within individuals of a pale complexion as his. But taking a closer look, one may realize, with an almost 6 foot height, Rayon happens to be rather tall for his age, yet sadly malnourished. He is still very handsome and some girls think his high cheekbones seem even more to die for this way. His featherweight of approximately 125 pounds makes him appear unfit for weightlifting, wielding heavy weapons or hard physical work. Rayons hands would tell another story, at least concerning the latter. His is determined to help his family as good as he can.
He doesn’t seem to care much about his looks. His vulcan-shaped eyebrows emphasize the piercing intensity of his glance and his homespun clothes add even more to the calm and adult-like nature of his personality.
Personality and History: the undertaker‘s son
Among the first things I remember is my fathers work. I was hiding behind some piece of furniture I now know, was a coffin. He was talking to the bereaved who mourned their little girl. Only days after this, the Hunger Games had just begun, the parents of a boy came in... . I was 4 and to me this meant, we didn’t have to worry about food this month and I would even get some sweets by the end of the day.
The first years of my childhood went by unworried. When I came to school things however changed. The other kids loathed me because of the work my father did, or, to be more precise, for his cooperation with the peacekeepers... . My school buddies openly expressed their distaste and wished that I or my sister should be reaped soon. Back then, I kind of believed, the institution of the Hunger Games served a higher purpose and thus were a good thing. ... But the mere idea of participating made my flesh creep. That was the moment when I realized how stupid I acted. I was old enough with 12 and my name might be drawn, too. It doesn't matter what my father said. He always used to wave my worries aside. „There are so many people in our district...“, he said and kept on smoldering his pipe before he ended: „...the probabilities of being reaped are almost zero.“ I still don't want to think about probabilities but at that time I started to ponder, why my reality differed so much from what others thought.
I just became 13 when my schoolmates dark prayers were answered. Not exactly via reaping, but my father got ill and now we were struggling to pay our bills, not to mention the doctors fee. Of course we could have tried to sell self-made clothes in our district or start some other business, but debts are overwhelming at times. They make you feel like you are submerged in an ocean. Luckily this is only a metaphor. Neither of us ever learned to swim. So my Mother goes to the sewing factory every morning. It‘s one of those large, multistoried grey buildings in our district with nets under their long rows of windows to prevent desperate workers from committing suicide. Some buildings have grids, but nets are much cheaper to attach. Here all the brummagem-clothes for the capitol citizens are put together. It‘s piecework. My sister and I also work there to help out. As only the early bird catches the worm, we are often too late, when we arrive after school. ...I was surprised when I saw, how many of my classmates went there, too.
Our lives changed dramatically. I had to sell all my books and stuff, and my sister all her good clothes and dolls. We no longer could afford meat or sweets. Being poor totally sucks! ...Honestly, the diagnosis was more devastating for us than for dad. They said my father needs a new heart or he will die. Right now he can do nothing but lie in bed all day and watch TV. Of course I don‘t want him to die. ...I promised him to give my best and look after my sister and mother.
I may sound superstitious or even stupid, but for every bad thing there also happens something good, I guess. For me the good thing was, that for the first time in my life I found real friends and I understood what it means to stick together. On those days when they would send us home from the factory too soon or said, there are no spots left, we would roam the streets and do some garbage can diving in the back yards of the local peacekeepers. There was almost always some stuff that could be reused, sold or eaten.
„Don‘t forget who you are.“, my father began, when he found out. I thought he was ranting me, but than he said. „You need to be more careful. We are poor, ...“ I suddenly was thinking of all my friends and quickly replied: „We are not poor, we just don‘t have money.“ He nodded and leaned back with a faint smile on his face and closed his eyes: „...just, whatever you do, don‘t sign up for tesserae and make sure your sister doesn‘t either“
other:-
Codeword: oDair
-------------
Hi,
This is my first character here ... I‘m very excited
.
I‘m no native speaker and I hope my text is allright.
Age: 14
Gender: male
District/Area: district 8
Appearance: or how to pass unnoticed
On first glance Rayon appears quite average. He‘s got short, reddish brown hair, some freckles over his nose and cheeks, and has bright blue eyes, which like freckles are also quite common within individuals of a pale complexion as his. But taking a closer look, one may realize, with an almost 6 foot height, Rayon happens to be rather tall for his age, yet sadly malnourished. He is still very handsome and some girls think his high cheekbones seem even more to die for this way. His featherweight of approximately 125 pounds makes him appear unfit for weightlifting, wielding heavy weapons or hard physical work. Rayons hands would tell another story, at least concerning the latter. His is determined to help his family as good as he can.
He doesn’t seem to care much about his looks. His vulcan-shaped eyebrows emphasize the piercing intensity of his glance and his homespun clothes add even more to the calm and adult-like nature of his personality.
Personality and History: the undertaker‘s son
Among the first things I remember is my fathers work. I was hiding behind some piece of furniture I now know, was a coffin. He was talking to the bereaved who mourned their little girl. Only days after this, the Hunger Games had just begun, the parents of a boy came in... . I was 4 and to me this meant, we didn’t have to worry about food this month and I would even get some sweets by the end of the day.
The first years of my childhood went by unworried. When I came to school things however changed. The other kids loathed me because of the work my father did, or, to be more precise, for his cooperation with the peacekeepers... . My school buddies openly expressed their distaste and wished that I or my sister should be reaped soon. Back then, I kind of believed, the institution of the Hunger Games served a higher purpose and thus were a good thing. ... But the mere idea of participating made my flesh creep. That was the moment when I realized how stupid I acted. I was old enough with 12 and my name might be drawn, too. It doesn't matter what my father said. He always used to wave my worries aside. „There are so many people in our district...“, he said and kept on smoldering his pipe before he ended: „...the probabilities of being reaped are almost zero.“ I still don't want to think about probabilities but at that time I started to ponder, why my reality differed so much from what others thought.
I just became 13 when my schoolmates dark prayers were answered. Not exactly via reaping, but my father got ill and now we were struggling to pay our bills, not to mention the doctors fee. Of course we could have tried to sell self-made clothes in our district or start some other business, but debts are overwhelming at times. They make you feel like you are submerged in an ocean. Luckily this is only a metaphor. Neither of us ever learned to swim. So my Mother goes to the sewing factory every morning. It‘s one of those large, multistoried grey buildings in our district with nets under their long rows of windows to prevent desperate workers from committing suicide. Some buildings have grids, but nets are much cheaper to attach. Here all the brummagem-clothes for the capitol citizens are put together. It‘s piecework. My sister and I also work there to help out. As only the early bird catches the worm, we are often too late, when we arrive after school. ...I was surprised when I saw, how many of my classmates went there, too.
Our lives changed dramatically. I had to sell all my books and stuff, and my sister all her good clothes and dolls. We no longer could afford meat or sweets. Being poor totally sucks! ...Honestly, the diagnosis was more devastating for us than for dad. They said my father needs a new heart or he will die. Right now he can do nothing but lie in bed all day and watch TV. Of course I don‘t want him to die. ...I promised him to give my best and look after my sister and mother.
I may sound superstitious or even stupid, but for every bad thing there also happens something good, I guess. For me the good thing was, that for the first time in my life I found real friends and I understood what it means to stick together. On those days when they would send us home from the factory too soon or said, there are no spots left, we would roam the streets and do some garbage can diving in the back yards of the local peacekeepers. There was almost always some stuff that could be reused, sold or eaten.
„Don‘t forget who you are.“, my father began, when he found out. I thought he was ranting me, but than he said. „You need to be more careful. We are poor, ...“ I suddenly was thinking of all my friends and quickly replied: „We are not poor, we just don‘t have money.“ He nodded and leaned back with a faint smile on his face and closed his eyes: „...just, whatever you do, don‘t sign up for tesserae and make sure your sister doesn‘t either“
other:-
Codeword: oDair
-------------
Hi,
This is my first character here ... I‘m very excited
. I‘m no native speaker and I hope my text is allright.
