FINISHED :: Nine :: Hugo DiTeranna

[Onyx]

Name: Pumbaa
Age: seventeen or sixteen or something
Gender: Male
District/Area: District 9
Appearance:

Pig

Personality:

Pigesque

History:

That bit from Hakuna Matata where he talks about farting and it's so sad it breaks your heart

Codeword: Shabbatronic
Comments/Other:

LIFEGOESON

Some Scheme

Jake T Austen

[Onyx]

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[/font]I S T R I C T N I N E[/center]

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[/font]I X T E E N[/center]

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[/font]A L E[/center]

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[/font]O N F U S E D A N D C A R E F R E E[/center]

Odair

Lisa likes brandy and the way it hits her lips
She's a rock 'n roll survivor with pendulum hips[/i]
She's got deep brown eyes
That've seen it all

A

[/font]P P E A R A N C E[/center]

I beat Duke at everything. Sometimes I don’t mean to, but I just can’t help it. Even though he’s two years older than I am he acts like a real baby, telling me it’s not fair and that I should just try to think about it from his point of view. I told mother he said this and she said no, baby, you are perfect and so is he.

[/i][/color] Mother often makes no sense – how can we both be perfect if we are so different? There's only one perfect. I wish I knew what it was.

My name is Hog and I am sixteen years old. Well, my name isn’t really Hog, it’s Hugo. But everyone calls me Hog, so that’s what I call me, too. Everyone else is usually right. It’s not because I’m a pig, even though that’s what you’re meant to call people who eat a lot - I can eat loads without getting fat, that’s one of the ways I beat Duke, but normally there isn’t enough food to eat so much - instead of getting rounder, like a blimp, imagine being a blimp? I get taller. And taller and taller and taller. I look down on almost everyone in my class. We used to have to do funny lines where the tallest person would go near the door and the shortest person near the window and a man from the Capitol would come by with a clipboard and make funny noises at us. I don’t really understand why, but there are lots of things I don’t understand. I like it very much when the Capitol man comes. He takes us all into a room and one by one we have to go and he sticks funny wires on our foreheads with cold gluey stuff and it always slides down into my eyebrows. Aren’t eyebrows funny things? Mine are big and bushy and brown just like a man’s should be – at least, that’s what Duke says. Big and brown just like my eyes, but they're a bit wonky and look the wrong way a little, and my eyebrows are like twins. They get us to look in a mirror and read out letters and stuff. How do they get letters to stay in the mirror? When I read a book all the letters jump around and sing to me and it gets really hard to know what they say. Anyway, I always get distracted by myself. They tell me off when I wave at myself in the mirror but I do it anyway. Sometimes I flare my nostrils and it makes me laugh – it’s like having two trumpets stuck to my face because my nose is huge. It’s all wonky, too, because when I was much younger I fell off a bridge and broke it. I have scars on my chin from that day, but Duke says one day when I’m a man I will have a beard to cover the scars up! I can’t wait to be a man, Duke says it’s the best thing in the world.

My mouth is big, too. I can fit all my fingers in – on both hands – and still have space for dinner. Mother tells me it's a disgusting thing to do and then sometimes takes the dinner away, but I keep doing it because Duke can only fit four fingers and a thumb in his mouth before he feels like puking. We sit opposite each other at the table trying to have a competition, both of us cramming our hands in to our mouths until we feel sick. Disgusting, right? But it's great fun. I always have fun with Duke – he's the best brother ever.[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote][/color][/justify]

Working at a nightclub, there was coffee every noon
The barman used to call her Little Lisa, Looney Tunes
She went down
On almost anyone

From the hard time living 'til the Chelsea days
From when her hair was sweet blonde[/i]
'Til the day it turned grey
She said:

P

[/font]E R S O N A L I T Y[/center]

In my room there are no books. Books have never treated me well. Always, the letters dance in front of my eyes, never making any sense and never sitting still like I tell them to. People have tried to teach me before but the funny squiggles, lines and dots and curves all running and playing together, don't make any sense to me. Nothing in this world seems to make any sense to me. It's like a party I'm not invited to and I can just look at through a window that I don't know how to break. I see other people I know dancing with the letters I don't, reading words from pages like they belong there, in the sentences, forever as well. I never belonged there, so I don't try. Often, not trying at all is easier and less painful than trying and failing over and over again.

I find it so hard to do easy tasks like reading, and those are the things that make me angry and confused. That's how I usually react to what I suppose should be sad. Angry is easy for me when sad isn't. Mother gets sad sometimes, but I don't understand it – maybe because I don't really understand love either, and so nothing has ever made me sad. Because you need to lose something you love before you know emptiness, right? I do love my mother, and I loved my father and I love Duke, too, but that's different, isn't it? That's love that no one questions. If you love a girl, or a song, or a job or an object then people will always question that love. You can never be right to everyone. Someone will always think that either you or whatever it is you love doesn't deserve it. And so I haven't loved – am I afraid to? – because I don't want to make people doubt me.

You see? I'm not stupid, even though other people may say so all the time. I just do things my way. Yes, I care about what other people think of me, an awful lot, but still I stick to problem-free philosophies. No worries. When the kids at school laugh at me, I laugh with them. I pretend like I don't know what the joke is but of course I do, I'm the joke. It's just so much easier than getting hurt by it. So that's how I've been dancing through life, stopping long enough to appreciate the view, but never long enough to miss it when it's gone.

[/color][/blockquote][/blockquote][/justify]

L I F E G O E S O N
You've got more than money and sense my friend
You've got heart,
And you're going your own way

Some people wear their history like a map on their face
And Joey was an artist just living out a case[/i]
But his best works
Were his letters home

H

[/font]I S T O R Y [/center]

We were the sort of family that never wasted our money on shiny photo frames or flashy cameras, and so the only way I remember my early life is in the fuzzy reflection on the murky, wavering puddle of my memory. My dad looked much more like me than he did my brother, who would be the splitting image of mother if he were my sister instead. I'm glad he's not a sister, and so are my parents.

[/i] They say that when they first met, they planned to have two boys and no girls, but it depended on what happened when it came to it. "Came to what?" I would ask and father would ruffle my hair and say "came to the time when we decided to actually have the children we planned so long for."[/i] So when they found out there were having a boy – Duke, of course, because he's older – they were so happy. The DiTerannas always had a lucky hand. They named him Deuteronomy Alexander, a name far too big for such a tiny baby, but still people managed to pronounce it so it stayed. Those were the two years when everyone was truly happy, even with so little in terms of money and possession.

But my family history doesn't really matter, because the only important point in my life is when I met Franky. He's been my best friend forever, so really no other memory matters. We aren't the same; he's got spikey hair and a tiny smile always playing on his lips and a higher voice than me, and all the girls fancy him. But the reason I like him so much is that he saved me from loneliness. When I was very young my father went missing and life just went on and left him behind. Everyone thought my mother had done away with him or he had been arrested or murdered for doing some terrible crime, but they never found him and so everyone just forgot and moved on. But Francisco was the one who came up to me at school and didn't even mention it. That was the nicest thing anyone had ever done to me. Ever. He grinned and asked me if I wanted to prank Aiyana with him. Aiyana is so pretty and I think she liked Franky but he obviously didn't like her back and I liked that about him. We were both so alike and he made me feel safe and I didn't feel alone and I didn't feel sad and it didn't matter when Duke was mean to me or when Duke was nice to me because I had Francisco.

There was one point when we fought, when he became just like everyone else. I don't hate people, but it confused me so much. The boys at school were laughing at us because we were stupid, and suddenly Francisco couldn't take it anymore. He never joined in with them, never, but he didn't defend us, either. And I felt so empty. I tried to find new friends; he was more apt at that than I ever was and so I was rarely successful without him. It was an awful time for me, but I tend to forget about it now. Now when I've found him again.

The Pride was something started by a kid at school to make him feel included. I don't know why being included is such a great thing when it only means you have more to lose like Franky. I didn't really join it, I didn't like the idea of being in a gang where so much could go wrong. More like I told a joke to one of the boys and they decided they liked me, that I had irony in a sort of outcast way. Well I wasn't quite sure what irony was but I hoped it was a good thing, and they laughed at my jokes which was definitely a good thing, so I taught them my principle of No Worries and stuck with them. Finding Francisco again, there, with them, was the best thing I could have hoped for. He always was, and always will be my best friend, my only memory and my hope.[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote][/justify]

His standard works of fiction about imaginary success
The chorus girls in neon were his closest thing to friends
But to a writer
The truth is no big deal

From the hard time living to the sleepless nights
And the black and blue body[/i]
From the weekend fights
He'd say:

O

[/font]T H E R[/center]

This character depresses me. I don't even care. This bio has no ending. It deteriorates as it carries on. I don't want to have to fix it but I don't want to write it better now. So yeah. Sorry, Kiah. <3

[/color][/blockquote]

L I F E G O E S O N
You've got more than money and sense my friend
You've got heart,
And you're going your own way

[Onyx]

Don't care.



I'm so embarrassed by this bio.

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[Deleted]

so, so gorgeous<3