gentian hope d8 | fin

Fine short black hair curls upward on his head, sometimes hidden by the hat he often wears. He has prominent eyebrows and a pointed, upturned nose, with fine wisps of facial hair starting to grow on his chin. High cheekbones accentuate his dark eyes, which are round and welcoming. He often has a smile on his face, and the slight dimples at the corners of his mouth make him seem friendly and innocent.

The rest of his body is tall and gawky, and he looks younger than his eighteen years, as thought he's still going through the growth spurts of puberty. His clumsiness and often awkward motions only serve to add to his boyish looks, something he's learned to accept about himself. He has large hands and long fingers, which tend to be constantly moving, whether he's gesturing, lacing them with each other, or working on a square of embroidering, one of his favorite hobbies.

Despite being the district of textiles, there isn't much room for its citizens to enjoy the bright dress and colorful fabrics that get shipped to the Capitol. Gentian hates the drab grey of most of his usual clothing, and when he finds the materials he'll decorate his clothing with splashes of color. His hat, his favorite lucky item, used to be plain grey as well, but over the years he's embroidered various meaningful images onto it. One of them, a pair of linked white crowns, commemorates his cousins Lily and Paige, who both died in the Hunger Games.

Through everything that's happened to their family, Gentian continues to be optimistic. When Lily was reaped for the 70th Games, he was the one firmly convinced that she had a chance of winning. Well, come on. Aranica won her Games, and she was twelve. As the number of tributes dwindles, his hope only grew stronger - after all, the Gamemakers had made an Arena seemingly out to punish those in alliances, as the dopplegangers sowed distrust and doubt among the tributes. Then she changed. What happened to the sweet little Lily I knew, when she started laughing like a maniac and sending bloodstained letters to the Careers? Everyone went insane in those Games, from Lily, to Lily's murderer hacking at herself with her own weapon, to even the victor Kirito... 

Gentian finds it easy to empathize with others' pain, which make the Games hard to watch for him no matter who the tributes are. Despite working in the textile factory in the district, he really wishes to become a doctor so he can do something useful instead of watching others suffer. He burns out easily though, and can get overwhelmed by emotion. When Lily died I ended up having a meltdown in the middle of the town square. And then Paige... death is always so unexpected. I can't help watching, can't help praying to Ripred that our tributes will survive despite all the odds that they won't. But I know they did have a chance, up until a knife went into them and they suddenly didn't.

Despite his empathy, however, Gentian sometimes struggles to show that he cares about others. When he was younger, he used to tease others quite often, but has mellowed out over the years as he became more aware of the effects his actions can have. However, such realizations have come with a constant anxiety about saying the wrong things. To mask his doubts, he tries to put on a cocky, confident demeanor. Don't do this. Don't do that. Don't borrow Paige's stuffed rabbit without saying anything because she'll be upset when she can't find it anymore. There are so many ways to hurt people without realizing it that I can't believe people go out of their way to do it on purpose. I wish my words were good enough to fix people and make them stop hurting.

Gentian was born in the dead of winter, just weeks after the holiday season. A sickly child, he was often fussed over by his parents, who grew increasingly worried when he showed signs of developing later than other children of his age. He was nearly three before he learned to talk, but once he did, there was scarcely a quiet moment in the house as he never seemed to know when to shut up. Growing up, he tended to wear thin the patience of his teachers and other authority figures by interrupting them or fidgeting in his seat, even when they had concluded that he should know better. He wasn't a class clown, though, in fact quite the opposite - his distractions were as frustrating to the other students as they were to his teachers.

I've lived in district eight my whole life, the district of drab grey skies and drab grey textile factories and drab grey workers wearing drab grey rags. It seemed to wear everyone down eventually, but my cousins were different. There was Preston with his fiery heart and the twins who would often come over with makeshift crowns on their heads telling of epic tales and forbidden lands existing only in their imagination. Lily was an inspiration - she was the graceful queen that could act whatever role she wanted, and I was just the tactless guest pretending to be a prince. Then there was that terrible one year when they were no longer two of a kind, but everyone knows that already. It was all over the television, after all, you weren't allowed to avoid it even if you wanted to.

I'm eighteen, but people still seem to think of me as a child. What is the real difference between children and adults, anyways? It's not just that the adults work in the factories, because I've been working the textile mill for nearly half a year now and I do a pretty good job at it. Maybe it's because children have the ability to get excited about little things, are more vulnerable to hope, whereas when you're an adult you know better. I don't know if growing up is a good thing if it means you stop caring about other people. Yes, hope is painful, but what is life without emotion?