gabriel izar | d11 | fin
Jun 15, 2017 18:01:51 GMT -5
Post by Lyn𝛿is on Jun 15, 2017 18:01:51 GMT -5
GABRIEL IZAR
eighteen. district eleven. male
You wanna make a bet?
Well? What's it gonna be, heads or tails?
Hmm... heads, you say... ... whaddya know, it's tails. Looks like I win again.
Man, it's almost too easy, isn't it? I guess that's just what luck is. You win some, you lose some.
Guess you could say I'm a lucky guy, takin' all the tesserae for my family and never getting my name pulled outta that bowl. Guess you could say I'm unlucky for losing so many cousins to the Games.
In any case... I'd like to believe in my own luck.
When it comes down to it, really, life's just one big gamble, ain't it? One accident, one slip of paper, one... It's all it takes.
Makes it hard to take it seriously, knowing you can do everything right and still have a bad day. Even a Ten can get a lucky shot on someone's head and boom, skull caved in.
Heads you win, tails you lose. Lemme tell you, it's a lot easier having chance make your decisions for you.
I believe in it a hell of a lot more than all this Ripred business, anyways. All dice and coins and cards, anyone that tells you that they can make 'em land a certain way is bullshitting themselves.
Well, that, or they're cheating. Some of 'em have a pair or two of weighted dice. Some of 'em just palm the coin and swap in a different one.
You know, there's a fair amount of people that'll try to scam you at these games. You gotta learn the tricks or they'll walk off with all your money.
I suppose that's life, too.
I've always been a bit of risk-taker. I mean, what else can you do, really? Sitting around and waiting to starve to death sounds awfully boring to me.
Of course, then you've got people like my parents, who keep tellin' me gambling's "sinful" and how Ripred punishes those who play games of chance.
The same parents who didn't say much when I first signed up for tesserae.
The same parents who have seen their coworkers die in the fields for having one little lapse in attention.
The same Ripred that watches kids get drawn out of a reaping bowl every year, and never seems to punish Snow or anyone for that.
The same Ripred that "shines" over a world where you could be born lucky in the Capitol, or condemned to a place like Eleven.
Honestly people only believe the things they do because of some tradition or another. Because it's all they've been taught.
And I think that traditions are stupid.
The Games are a tradition. Ripred is a tradition. District Eleven and their stupid work songs and stupid stories and stupid delusions and,
I mean, if life is pretty much hell already, then what's the harm in a few games?
Now don't get me wrong. I'm no Sampson. I'm not particularly keen on tearing things down for the sake of making them what I want because,
you know what, I don't much think about what I want.
It's not like I'm gonna get it if I think hard enough, you know?
I'm just a guy who likes to roll with what I got. And hey, if that means the occasional cards (and okay, maybe a little cheating at them) that I've gotta hide from the parents,
well, I roll with the parents I've been born to, as well.
People ask me how I stay cool like that. Say I've got a look about me, the kind that just tells 'em I don't care.
You know, that look. Smirk, casual jacket, messy hair but not so messy it looks like a tumbleweed. The kind of don't care that makes you look cool instead of like a loser that spends their days sleepin' in bed.
Yeah, I don't get those people. Sleepin' all day just sounds boring.
Maybe that's why I haven't volunteered for the games. Some people say if you don't believe in Ripred then when you die you sleep forever. Or you burn forever, they can never decide which.
Man, I bet if we had a chance god instead of a rat god, they would come up with a more interesting forever than that.
An unpredictable forever doesn't sound too bad.
Better than being stuck in the same job in Eleven, maybe.
I wonder if one day I'll get bored of the district and just up and leave. I guess there's still interesting people here, though. I guess you wouldn't get that out in the wilderness.
You can tell a lot about a person by how they gamble. If they gamble. How much they'll risk, whether they're any good at bluffin', if they start small or risk it all at once.
Maybe they risk more when they're angry. Maybe they start slammin' their coins on the table, or checkin' them over and over again all scared-like.
Maybe they're observant enough to notice if you fix the dice.
I ain't never gotten caught yet, but I know friends who did. Can't do it too much or it makes people suspicious, you know.
S'pose that all boils down to chance too.
Well, tomorrow's my last reaping. Given a lot of thought on that, especially after Salome stepped up to volunteer. Last time I'll be worryin' about my name in that bowl. Last time I'll be able to stick up for my younger brothers, if they get pulled.
Sure, they haven't got so many slips, but it's all down to chance, ain't it?
But don't worry.
I'm feeling lucky.
Well? What's it gonna be, heads or tails?
Hmm... heads, you say... ... whaddya know, it's tails. Looks like I win again.
Man, it's almost too easy, isn't it? I guess that's just what luck is. You win some, you lose some.
Guess you could say I'm a lucky guy, takin' all the tesserae for my family and never getting my name pulled outta that bowl. Guess you could say I'm unlucky for losing so many cousins to the Games.
In any case... I'd like to believe in my own luck.
When it comes down to it, really, life's just one big gamble, ain't it? One accident, one slip of paper, one... It's all it takes.
Makes it hard to take it seriously, knowing you can do everything right and still have a bad day. Even a Ten can get a lucky shot on someone's head and boom, skull caved in.
Heads you win, tails you lose. Lemme tell you, it's a lot easier having chance make your decisions for you.
I believe in it a hell of a lot more than all this Ripred business, anyways. All dice and coins and cards, anyone that tells you that they can make 'em land a certain way is bullshitting themselves.
Well, that, or they're cheating. Some of 'em have a pair or two of weighted dice. Some of 'em just palm the coin and swap in a different one.
You know, there's a fair amount of people that'll try to scam you at these games. You gotta learn the tricks or they'll walk off with all your money.
I suppose that's life, too.
I've always been a bit of risk-taker. I mean, what else can you do, really? Sitting around and waiting to starve to death sounds awfully boring to me.
Of course, then you've got people like my parents, who keep tellin' me gambling's "sinful" and how Ripred punishes those who play games of chance.
The same parents who didn't say much when I first signed up for tesserae.
The same parents who have seen their coworkers die in the fields for having one little lapse in attention.
The same Ripred that watches kids get drawn out of a reaping bowl every year, and never seems to punish Snow or anyone for that.
The same Ripred that "shines" over a world where you could be born lucky in the Capitol, or condemned to a place like Eleven.
Honestly people only believe the things they do because of some tradition or another. Because it's all they've been taught.
And I think that traditions are stupid.
The Games are a tradition. Ripred is a tradition. District Eleven and their stupid work songs and stupid stories and stupid delusions and,
I mean, if life is pretty much hell already, then what's the harm in a few games?
Now don't get me wrong. I'm no Sampson. I'm not particularly keen on tearing things down for the sake of making them what I want because,
you know what, I don't much think about what I want.
It's not like I'm gonna get it if I think hard enough, you know?
I'm just a guy who likes to roll with what I got. And hey, if that means the occasional cards (and okay, maybe a little cheating at them) that I've gotta hide from the parents,
well, I roll with the parents I've been born to, as well.
People ask me how I stay cool like that. Say I've got a look about me, the kind that just tells 'em I don't care.
You know, that look. Smirk, casual jacket, messy hair but not so messy it looks like a tumbleweed. The kind of don't care that makes you look cool instead of like a loser that spends their days sleepin' in bed.
Yeah, I don't get those people. Sleepin' all day just sounds boring.
Maybe that's why I haven't volunteered for the games. Some people say if you don't believe in Ripred then when you die you sleep forever. Or you burn forever, they can never decide which.
Man, I bet if we had a chance god instead of a rat god, they would come up with a more interesting forever than that.
An unpredictable forever doesn't sound too bad.
Better than being stuck in the same job in Eleven, maybe.
I wonder if one day I'll get bored of the district and just up and leave. I guess there's still interesting people here, though. I guess you wouldn't get that out in the wilderness.
You can tell a lot about a person by how they gamble. If they gamble. How much they'll risk, whether they're any good at bluffin', if they start small or risk it all at once.
Maybe they risk more when they're angry. Maybe they start slammin' their coins on the table, or checkin' them over and over again all scared-like.
Maybe they're observant enough to notice if you fix the dice.
I ain't never gotten caught yet, but I know friends who did. Can't do it too much or it makes people suspicious, you know.
S'pose that all boils down to chance too.
Well, tomorrow's my last reaping. Given a lot of thought on that, especially after Salome stepped up to volunteer. Last time I'll be worryin' about my name in that bowl. Last time I'll be able to stick up for my younger brothers, if they get pulled.
Sure, they haven't got so many slips, but it's all down to chance, ain't it?
But don't worry.
I'm feeling lucky.
