banquo hix // district six // done

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banquo hix // district six // done Jul 23, 2016 8:42:01 GMT -5

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Post by Deleted on Jul 23, 2016 8:42:01 GMT -5

banquo jackson hix
eighteen years
bicycle maker
mark strepan

a cute little chestnut
optimist
everything can be fixed
(half way through like three bios but desperate for this fc)
be prepared for some trashy writing

listen to the man

Last Edit: Jul 23, 2016 14:02:25 GMT -5 by Deleted

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banquo hix // district six // done Jul 23, 2016 8:44:32 GMT -5

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Post by Deleted on Jul 23, 2016 8:44:32 GMT -5

[googlefont="Playfair Display:400"]BANQUO HIX

[googlefont="Playfair Display:400"]D I S T R I C T 6

[googlefont="Playfair Display:400"]EIGHTEEN

◼ Ⅱ ▸

[googlefont="Playfair Display:400"]A P P E A R A N C E

[googlefont="Playfair Display:400"]✯ ✯ ✯

[googlefont="Playfair Display:400"] Every once in a while we all need help. Someone to drip oil into our rusty hinges. Banquo, no different, often sought a hand to rub the tension from his tight, muscular back. “A little higher... Oh, that’s it. Perfection.” The thought of requesting that his firm legs should be the next to pampered danced across his mind, but so did the oncoming rejection. "I'm not touching those; it's like massaging a hunk of iron."

"Not even here?" He grinned a smile warmer than the embrace of a lover, stroking his wide hands over his bare thigh.

"Not even there. I'm not ready to loose my fingers just yet."

Banquo is no stranger to hard work either. It’s not all pampering and soft teasing. Like a clog in a clock, he appears in the factory for 12 hours daily, churning out his product. Even then he wears a smile. And, more often than not, a dripping beard of oil and sweat atop his true facial hair.

“Have I got something on my face?” He’d ask the youngest employees; they cried in amusement and held their aching sides as he stroked in stubble in a façade of contemplation. “No, okay then, back to work.”

The children would dash back to their stations with a stained dot of brown on the end of their noses.

Visitors to the factory, or even people in the street noticed him as someone to be wanted. Chestnut eyes glimmered in ecstasy when they found you in a crowd. Satin curls of hair brushed your cheek as he wrapped you in a brief but welcoming embrace. A slightly accented tone dripped into the ears like honey and the people gathered like insects to hear him laugh.

[googlefont="Playfair Display:400"]P E R S O N A L I T Y

[googlefont="Playfair Display:400"]✯ ✯ ✯

[googlefont="Playfair Display:400"]“You can’t fix everything, Banquo!”

“Don’t say that,” his voice was stone, but his eyes trembled with the glaze of tears. “The only things that can’t be fixed are the things that aren’t broken.”

Even in the darkest moments, when his life was a mirror rendered useless - a pile of shattered glass - he never believed otherwise. What point is there in adapting to a temporary dip? When life plants a mountain in your path you cycle over in, or around it, or - God! - dig a tunnel and go through it. But you don’t stop. Banquo never stops.

Even when he should.

“I swear to God, Hix, if you leave this station again before your shift ends you’ll wish that they’d never saved your ass when you were a kid. You shouldn’t even be worried about me firing you; I’d be more concerned about falling back down that well!”

If boosting the morale of a crying child wasn’t a good enough reason for a break, what was? Banquo did as he was told. Not even the goofiest of contortions and the most joyous laugh could lure him down that well again. Once - tempted by his own clumsiness and poor footing - was quite enough.

He lingered by the door that night, almost giggling at the multitude of potential jokes swirling around his mind. "There you are, little devil." He called catching out the young boy as he wiped away a snivel. The youth's sadness started to flicker away at the sight of his friend.

They jumped onto the rusting old bicycle and rode into the dim lights of the town.

"Have you heard the one about the nun and the cheese sandwich?"

[googlefont="Playfair Display:400"]H I S T O R Y

[googlefont="Playfair Display:400"]✯ ✯ ✯

[googlefont="Playfair Display:400"] i. THE FALL

“Banquo, don’t be stupid. Get away from the edge”

Seven children wandered purposeless around the outskirts of Six. Some swung from trees. Others crawled on their fronts through grass and dirt. The last boy claimed his territory with ease; the crumbling remains of an old well. Sitting with his feet over the abyss was fun to begin with, but as he grew bored, and the desire surged inside him.

He wanted to conquer the beast.

Carefully he rose to stand on the edge. He towered above the others; he was the king of the dustlands and they were his loyal subjects.

But, like all kings, his crown was destined for another.

Within seconds, he way at the bottom of the abyss.

ii. THE BOTTOM

If there’s one thing that Six has an abundance of - aside from motorcars - it is scientists. Medical professionals were hardly in short supply.

“He’ll be fine,” she told his parents, looking at them as if he didn’t exist. “But the recovery process will take some time. After the bone has healed I’ll put him on a rehabilitation program to get the lower body strength back. Running and cycling, and the like”

Before Banquo was seven he had never seen a bicycle up close. They were built in the factory and transported on the back of great trucks, stacked up atop each other. None of his neighbours had any need to ride one themselves; and why should they want to?

It seemed that none of them desired freedom, for that was the single greatest thing that he discovered during his fall from grace. Well, that and not to dance around the chasm.

iii. THE RISE

He wiped the sheet of sweat from his brow as he turned over his shoulder to glance at the parade of cyclists following behind him. Half of them struggled to make the final jump to the hill’s peak, while the rest walked slowly, defeated, pushing the vehicle to meet the others.

“Don’t go too fast,” Banquo called down to them. “I don’t want you to take a tumble.”

The girls behind him growled and he stuck out his tongue. One of them dropped her bike at his feet and threw her arm around his shoulder.

“Don’t be an idiot, stupid.”

She tightened her grip and pulled him laughing behind her in a headlock.

[googlefont="Playfair Display:400"]O T H E R

[googlefont="Playfair Display:400"]✯ ✯ ✯

[googlefont="Playfair Display:400"]✧ male
✧ hetrosexual (single)
✧ works in district 7's bike factory
✧ gained foriegn-sounding - Capitolite - accent from father (who works as an ambassador for the factory & travels to the Capitol) [<--- will delete of inappropriate!]
✧ believes since the doctors saved him, everything else can be saved

format taken from a public template by chelsey // credit to her

Last Edit: Jul 24, 2016 10:21:16 GMT -5 by Deleted

Deleted 0 POSTS last seen May 6, 2024 18:17:19 GMT -5	banquo hix // district six // done Jul 26, 2016 8:26:02 GMT -5 Quote Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by Deleted on Jul 26, 2016 8:26:02 GMT -5 bump ~~currently hiding under wips~~

ᴥ Head RP Tutor 4,550 POSTS Pronouns: he/him last seen May 6, 2024 17:19:38 GMT -5 oof	banquo hix // district six // done Jul 30, 2016 23:02:01 GMT -5 Quote Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by ᴥ on Jul 30, 2016 23:02:01 GMT -5 i bet his sons will be king one day
	the m o o n controls the t i d e, it could cause you to d r o w n