Polyptoton Anadiplosis [D8] FIN

uwu
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Polyptoton Anadiplosis [D8] FIN Jul 16, 2016 13:59:01 GMT -5

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Post by uwu on Jul 16, 2016 13:59:01 GMT -5

Name: Polyptonon Andiplosis
Age: ~~No idea , still haven't figured this out. 16 maybe?~~ It's 17 now. Definitely 17
Gender: Male
District/Area: 8
Appearance:

Appearance Text here (2 paragraphs please)

Personality:

Personality Text here (3 paragraphs please)

History:

History Text here (3 paragraphs please

Other: Artists make art and musicians make music, but why don't writers make writes?

Last Edit: Sept 1, 2016 17:34:59 GMT -5 by uwu

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uwu
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Polyptoton Anadiplosis [D8] FIN Aug 29, 2016 11:51:22 GMT -5

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Post by uwu on Aug 29, 2016 11:51:22 GMT -5

Action
Thoughts
"My Speech"
"Not My Speech"
Other

Beginning in the beginning is a crucial part of any story. It could be the crappiest story ever written, but it matters to start there. I guess one can start in the ending and go backwards, but I sense that it would not make that much sense. If I could, I'd point out that the point of doing that is stupid. Anyways, here is the life I lived.

Birth to Age 6

Not really having much growing up in District 8, I appreciated my own existence much more, I assume, than those who waste their time existing just to become waste in one of the Hunger Game Arenas. I don't know if it was because of my parents, Litotes and Shrug, or one of my many siblings, but I will never allow anyone to take away my will to live (which is what I value most in life).

I never recalled being born. I highly doubt anyone does. However, I don't remember if I was born through one of a mistress of one of my fathers, or an unknown woman birthed me. Now that I ponder it, I may have been of a mistress. What matters is that I got conceived and became into existence, and now I am here. Unfortunately (or fortunately depending on how you look at it), there are absolutely no pictures of me being a baby for whatever reason. I couldn't care less to have any knowledge of what type of potato I looked like as a baby. That isn't to say I'm not curious to see how ugly I looked. It is to me what a child is to a fuckboi: it probably had loads of babies, but wants no associations with them most of the time.

I do have a couple of fleeting memories of younger version of me. I still have no memories or photos of what I look like, but I do recall and try not to recollect the videos of what my little self did. I faintly remember fainting a couple of times for being stupid in the summer, like wearing heavy coats in 100+ degree weather. What a dumbass I was. I can't believe my dads didn't stop me from doing that. I do also remember a couple of parties I went to, mostly parties of family members. There was also somebody who took pleasure in making these pleasurable parties, but no memories of him pop up in future memories, so I have a strong feeling I made him up. It feels impossible to distinguish early recollections.

Around age 5, I received a journal of some sort of present. It currently holds everything from a couple days after that to up to now, but I refuse to let anyone but myself read it. It is to store what happened every single day to me so I can single out memories I want to remember. It also makes great reading material when I'm bored. Obviously I got a couple more journals as I grew up because journals cannot grow alongside humans, nor are they bigger on the inside. That would be most fascinating if a scientists could make a journal do that, though. The money it would save could save lives since the money could be spent on more important stuff, like food.

What else happened? I could use my journal, but I don't remember where I put it today. Oh. I started school around 6. That was cool. A little. Not very much. I have no opinion on it. It was school. I appreciated the learning, but I learned that the school code looked like its creators had no appreciation for free time, at least during the school day. In the early years, us young kids always had to do something, whether it was learning, napping, eating, or playing, but it was always something. I couldn't wait to get out of it, but I also missed the structure of a day.

Age 7 to Age 11

As I grew older, my interests of sports also grew. Nothing related to the Hunger Games, not. Just pickup games where I picked up soccer and racing (I also picked up loads more, but out of the load, those three were and still are my favorite). School wise, learning was far from easy, but I learned to play sports with relative ease. They came naturally to me.

At age 7, I remember staying after school for a test I needed to make up for being down with a sickness. Afterwards, on my way home, I noticed a group of kids playing soccer, which I had no idea what the name was at the time for being a naive fool with no idealistic views. Being the curious lil' bastard I was, I decided to join and try it out. An older kid explained the rules and everything to me, ruling out certain ones because they weren't being used in this particular game. He told me to sit out for a couple minutes to see how the game worked, and promised me that I would have a turn. I anxiously watched, anticipating for the moment when I could play.

Finally, the kid motioned me to join in. Rushing in, I rushed to the ball and tripped over it by accident. Feeling embarrassed, I picked myself back up and brushed off the embarrassment along with the dirt. By the time I got back up, someone else had taken the ball and the game continued. Annoyance rose up before it fell back down. I saw a hand out offering to pull me up, which I must have missed. The owner of the hand then passed the ball and I quickly dribbled down the field. The goalie prepared to block it, but his block failed as the ball flew right into the net. Turning around, the faces around the field had mixed reactions, some reacting impressed while others reacting shocked.

The older kid, who I later found out goes by the name Kidd, came up and congratulated me, telling me how the goalie was the best out of everyone here. He stated that I was a prodigy. I had no idea to what that meant at the time, but I felt honored, scoring on the beast goalie. He then offered a spot on his team, and we played for a couple more hours before I remembered I had to go home. I don't think I got in trouble for going home that late, nor did I get in trouble later that night, or at least that I can recall. Similar story with all other sports I tried, but none as great as soccer. Ever since that incident, I've been playing on the same field ever since to no end with an endlessly changing lineup of both guys and girls.

Incidentally, the same thing I loved doing created an incident that would not be easily forgotten. Incident makes it sound bad. I don't think it was that bad. Fuck, I forgot it. I swear it really it isn't easy to forget, I'm just drawing a blank right now, blanking out everything. Oh, yes. Okay. So I didn't know it at the time, but I had met my future best friend and boyfriend, Augustine Hippotres. I didn't know it because I was only 7, but it took until about 8 years down the line, but I'll get to the dating part at a later date, or paragraphs I should say. However, how I met him is relevant to right now. He joined three months after I did. He came over to me at the end of a game one day to congratulate me on making the game ending point, and we conversed in a conversation, quickly becoming friends after that. Like I said before, I didn't realize I was gay at this point, but I fell a strong connection to him.

Skip a couple years to age 10. Don't worry. Nothing exciting happened again, at least nothing that excited me. I did typical stuff, played sports, went to school, hung out with Augustine. At age 10, getting schooled at school became fun and became easier. I really don't know what happened. I'm sure people would be thinking "Ha, yeah right." or "How's that exciting?" Let me tell you: I'm weird, so yes, weirdly enough, I started liking school. I started caring as much about it as I did to soccer. Something snapped in my mind, a snap decision to get straight A's. Before, I got a good amount of A's, B's, and C's. After the turnaround, I turned myself around and aimed for consent A's. It didn't start that year, but by the next year, I never got anything less than a 94%, not on quizzes, test, projects, nor homework. Now, for me to get an A- is like getting the temperature before 0 Kelvin: impossible.

Age 12 to 18

Age 12. The first age to be reaped. Yay. The day of my first reaping, a person watching me would think that I had my now personal earthquake. I would not and could not stop quacking. I tried taking a soothing bath and Augustine tried to sooth me, but both failed miserably. During the reaping, I couldn't even see straight. Looking back at it, I find it a little humorous, but then, I found no humor. Luckily I didn't get reaped that year, but it was still petrifying for 12-year-old me. It took me a solid three hours to solidate my conscious again. Augustine held me for some of those, but stood by me for the entire time. I also think that's the time I began to think of him more than just a friend. That moment by far was and is the furthest into fear I have ever gone, and I pray I'll never be that scared again. Propitiously, going to reaping ceremonies have been easier the older I've gotten. I still get scared, but never as bad as when I was 12.

By the next reaping, the realization of me being gay finally came out. However, I personally did not come out of the closet quite yet. It took me a little to process, and by a little I mean two months to fully comprehend. Confusion made the whole entire thing even more confusing. Yes, the statement was repetitive and redundant, but I don't know how to put it. I get confused easily, and I don't know what else to blame it on. It was simplistically simple, but I couldn't understand it. It just appeared, and my mind did not have any idea on how to process it. After the confusion ended, it wasn't that bad. I couldn't care less to which hole I did it in, or who did it to mine. I never did come out to my parents. I don't really think they'd care, since they're two gay men themselves. They'd find out anyways when I brought home Augustine as a boyfriend instead of a normal friend, but that's a different story.

Now, after the acceptance, I was fearful that other people wouldn't be as accepting. No one in Panem really talks about sexuality, and I feel as though I'm a minority, with all the couples being male and female. I never payed any attention to them until I was paying for some pencils and supplies for school. There were married couples with their kids shopping for whatever supplies their kids needed, and I was here alone supplying myself. I felt like I was alone, alienated, excluded. I don't really know why it bothered me so much, but it did. From that day forward, I slowly fell into a pit of depression, which I'd be falling for quite a while. I hated every second of it. No matter who I talked to, I felt alone and helpless. I knew I should talk to someone, but I didn't know who to turn to, who I could trust. My outside appeared to remain the same, but obviously appearances can be faked. My world was crumbling around me. I knew I needed to do something about it.

Now that lasted for about a little over a year. Over a year of agonizing pain and worry. Let me tell how hellish this hell was. Imagine breaking down. The worst break down ever. Now imagine that happening all day, every day. Also, it's only internal, and no one else knows about it. That's what it felt like. I couldn't focus at all. All day I panicked, which added more panic because I couldn't focus which caused me to fall behind even more. It was an endless cycle for awhile. He saved me, Augustine did. He noticed that I wasn't my usual self. I don't know why it took him that long. Maybe my mask finally fell off, or slipped. Either way, he finally noticed. One night, when I was hanging out with him, he asked me how I was. Out of instinct, I stated I felt fine, but like stated before, he knew something was up. He asked again, but he wanted me to be truthful. As I nearly told the same lie, I decided that I needed to tell someone, and today was that day. Once I began, I couldn't stop. It spilled like water spilling out of a cup tipped over. I remember loads of crying and me blowing my nose. At the end, I felt much better, but a little embarrassed as well. I had come out to him. I had no idea how he would act. For all I knew, we might not have ever been friends as well. Thankfully, he accepted me then and there. Never have I ever felt so relieved. I can't imagine what would have happened if I had kept it all bottled in. To top it off, he came out to me as well. A smile grew on my face, and it had no intentions to fade away any time soon.

Y'all may be wondering "So is this where they start dating?" The answer is no. Not yet. It was a discovery. We didn't start dating until we were both 15, a year after we came out to each other, and we've been dating ever since. How long has that been? A year now? No. Two. Maybe. It's almost two years. I turned 17 a couple days ago. Or am I turning 17 tomorrow? I'm terrible when it comes to exact dates. I don't even know when my own birthday is. Regardless, ever since we started dating, I've been consistently happy. Augustine is the light of my world, lighting my face up whenever I think of him. I love him so much.

Now, nothing really interesting has happened up until now. My blond hair hasn't gotten that long. Speaking of my hair, people always tell me to fix it, to make it look neater. I always respond with "Why? It's my hair. You shouldn't worry about something that you can't control." That always gets on my hair. I enjoy it being all ~~Messi~~ messy. And don't get me started on my eyes. Boring-as-hell blue. I don't really like 'em much.

My body and the bodily content, however. I kinda like. I'm pretty fit from soccer. My fast-twitch muscles are hella strong. You can't really see it I guess, but they are. My legs are exceptionally toned, but other than that, the rest of my body is normal-looking, I guess. Nothing out of the ordinary that stand out. Maybe the occasional acne breakout, but I hate it when people mention them. It's just not right. It makes me feel awkward, and it should make them feel awkward as well, insensitive bastards. But yeah. And by the way, I am 17. I just found my diary and reread it. My birthday was a couple days ago, so happy birthday to me!

Last Edit: Sept 1, 2016 17:34:11 GMT -5 by uwu

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uwu Capitol Resident 1,005 POSTS Pronouns: You last seen Nov 16, 2024 16:02:38 GMT -5 e	Polyptoton Anadiplosis [D8] FIN Sept 1, 2016 17:35:28 GMT -5 Quote Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by uwu on Sept 1, 2016 17:35:28 GMT -5 Finished!
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lance Head Librarian 3,669 POSTS Pronouns: He/Him/His last seen Nov 20, 2024 10:03:13 GMT -5 gay and chaotic? call it gayos	Polyptoton Anadiplosis [D8] FIN Sept 5, 2016 15:37:24 GMT -5 Quote Select Post Deselect Post Link to Post Member Give Gift Back to Top Post by lance on Sept 5, 2016 15:37:24 GMT -5 I got a kick out of reading this bio. Nice job on this lil prodigy, Yoya. ACCEPTED!
	credit to darsypoo uwu credit to fireflyz! credit to stare!