Goren, District 11
Mar 3, 2012 1:32:42 GMT -5
Post by Goren on Mar 3, 2012 1:32:42 GMT -5
Name: Goren (Ren)
Age: 17
Gender: Male
District/Area: District 11
Appearance:
Comments/Other:
![](http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v479/Rhayned/Goren2.png)
Age: 17
Gender: Male
District/Area: District 11
Appearance:
I guess I look like most of the people in my district. My skin is light brown; sorta like the grain sacks transported to The Capitol. The best way to describe my eyes would be golden brown. Like my mom's, there are flecks of green around the center. One of the guys I worked in the orchards with used to say that my eyes were slits that always made me look like I was squinting. I kinda hate my nose because it's what my grandma would call "child-like"; to me it's a bit small for my face. One thing I do like is that I have full lips that have a slight pink tint to them. Well, that and I like my ears because I think they are perfect for my head, ha!Personality:
Keeping my hair cut really short is a necessity for working in this district. It's shaved pretty close to my head and it's dark brown to point some would say that it's black. Though I'm not very tall, only about five feet six inches, I make up for it in by being pretty strong. All the physical work I do has left me with long muscles and a sleek definition. I've joked that if my torso was appropriate to the length of my legs and arms, I'd be over six feet tall; they are a bit longer than I would like. I do have strong hands though with long fingers that make it easy to scale a tree or just about any other surface pretty quickly. Oh, I'm pretty fast too.
Overall, I couldn't say if I'm the most attractive. My mom likes to poke fun at me about seeing the girls in the district staring and whispering when I'm around. I just kind of shrug it off. I would say that I'm too thin, but then again so is everyone else around me. Food isn't exactly a Capitol Buffet for us. I can handle being thin, hungry and going without food as long as my mom and grandma are full. Sometimes the noises coming from my stomach sound like an angry animal is about to climb out and attack me through the sheet of muscles there.
Since the Peacekeepers are pretty strict around here, I tend to stick to getting the job done. I don't really talk much to those in the district, except maybe people working directly around me and neighbors. Loyalty is a big deal to me as well. We may not have much here, but we have our loyalty and some dignity. If I can't trust that someone is/are going to be loyal, then I have no need for you.History:
Yeah, trust is another thing. My dad always used to say that trust has to be earned. HA! I don't care how much someone tries to *earn* my trust, it just ain't happening. I don't trust anyone that isn't blood related to me. People just don't seem to have the integrity for me to trust them.
My temper tends to be a bit explosive. It once took every ounce of my being to keep from beating the life out of a Peacekeeper who whipped a kid for stealing some grain for his family. It took me a long time to get over seeing such a small kid all beat-up and bloody like that. I took the anger I had out on my work, well away from the Peacekeepers. My mom worries that my temper will be the death of me yet. I never let her or my grandmother see just how angry I get sometimes though; they mean too much to me to ever do so.
On a lighter side, I can be pretty silly and like to laugh sometimes. Those I do happen to socialize with would say I have an off-beat kind of sense of humor. If I don't know you, I tend to be a bit more reserved and observant.
There isn't much to what you would call my past as my family is pretty small compared to others in the district. I'm the only child my parents had the chance to have. I say chance because my father, Dagan, died thirteen years from a fall in the orchards. I don't remember much about him except that he had a really loud laugh that made everyone around laugh along with him. That laugh creeps up on me sometimes in my dreams.Codeword: <img src="http://i41.tinypic.com/16h2ibt.png">
The same were the fates of my father's parents. They died when he was just a young man as well; my grandfather at the hands of the Peacekeepers and my
grandmother from a combination of fever and hunger. My mother, Zia, has been my world. She works hard and makes sure that our little shack is as clean and tidy as it can be with the few belongings we do have. She, being an only child herself, tried her best to make sure I socialized with other kids in the district so I wouldn't be lonely. But she learned pretty quickly that I'm more of the loner type so she stopped forcing me to group up.
To help raise me, my mother's mother has been living with us since my father died. Through the years she would tell me stories about my grandfather, Omri. I remember sitting on the floor of our shack at her feet while she talked of how strong of a man he was. She'd tell how he could harvest faster than most of the people he worked with. Just last year, I finally asked how he died. It was hard to watch the change in her features as she recalled the story of trying to smuggle food for the family and neighbors and how the Peacekeepers shot him in front of the entire district.
As I said, there isn't much to my family. We my not have all the food in the world, but we are very close. I've been working to make sure those two women are as secure as I possibly can. They shaped me into the man I am today.
Comments/Other:
Face Claim: Shayne Cureton
![](http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v479/Rhayned/Goren2.png)