D9 // DHAVAL LABINNAC [DONE]

[cass]

Name: Dhaval -- like devil, get it?
Age: 18 or 17? I can't remember which
Gender: Male
District/Area: District 9
Appearance:

I KEEP FORGETTING HOW TO SPELL HIS NAME. BUT LIKE ISN'T HE BEAUTIFUL? DOES HE LOOK LIKE A MAN EATING CANNIBAL?

Personality:

I'M KIND AND FRIENDLY, BUT FO SHO GUISE JUST DON'T PUSH MY BUTTONS. HONESTLY I CAN BE MEAN. I LIKE TO EAT PEOPLE SO IF YOU LIKE SEE A LITTLE BUTTONG THAT SAYS DON'T PUSH, LIKE FOR REALS DON'T PUSH IT. I MIGHT JUST JUMP OUT AND EAT YOU.

History:

I HAVE A SISTER. OR WAS THAT A BROTHER? I KNOW I HAVE A BROTHER. I COULD HAVE TWO? I CAN'T REMEMEBER. I DON'T REMEMEBER MUCH. THAN I'M ALL LIKE BAD-ASS AND TOTES WOULD BEAT ANYONE IN A FIGHT. I LIKED TRAINED MYSELF TO LEARN FIRST AID COS ISN'T THAT LIKE WHAT ALL THE BAMF'S DO? I MEAN IT KEEPS YOU ALIVE, SO WHY NOT LEARN THAT SHIT.

Codeword: WHERE IS FINNICK? ODAIR HE IS
Comments/Other:

A HYENA IN THE LION KING PLOT <3

[cass]

Dhaval Labinnac.

My Name. Dhaval Labinnac
My Age. eighteen
My Home. District Nine
My Gender. Male
The Lyrics. I'm a Cannibal

Whenever you tell me I'm pretty
That's when the hunger really hits me
You're little heart goes pitter patter
I want your liver on a platter
Use your finger to stir my tea

b e a u t y to a s h e s

Breathe deep, breathe in the life around you. It might be your last chance. As long as you are breathing you know you are alive. That is at least what mother always said. I do not believe that so much anymore. Where is my mother now to save me? I drowned a long time ago in the world that I live in. I'm not sure I really exist in this world anymore, or is it the same as the bodies of the dead that haunt me. Have they become my living? I do not know. Life and death have become one for me and the life of the world around me has washed away like the rain that falls in constant streams in my mind, it drowns me and I slowly die. Just like all those people that I have killed.

My mother would always compare me to a flower. She never mentioned the name of the flower until she was on her death bed. That was also the day I got the nerve to ask her. When I did I was horrified. "My darling son, you look like the dying petals on a flower..." Were her words. I had left the room offended at her brashness, but now as I gleam an inch of myself in the mirror and I feel only hate at myself for leaving her as she died. I have slowly begun to undertsand her words. You see there is great beauty in the way a flower dies. Not many people see it. I didn't until I was compared to one. The dleicate weaving of how a flower actually looks is so clearly visible, the way the veins of the dying streak up each petal is amazing. There is no beauty greater than that of the dying.

Each petal was a different shade of brown, but they were wovwn together to form a light tone that layered each leaf in such a way that the colours seemed to glow off the petals. Such was the way of my skin. Pure and clear, just like the delicatness of a flower. But my skin was stronger, it was aged, but not so that it was weak, it was strong. Stronger then the very flower I had gazed at before I had crushed it in my hand. Such delicatness can not simply describe me. I'm not as heart felt and gentle as a flower, flowers are so much more than I am, they are innocent and pure. Something I am most clearly not. I'm an art work, long fingers stretch from an open hand, veins race up mu arms barely visible behind the honey tones colour of my skin.

g o o d is e v i l

With each breath I take you see strong muscles rippling benath me. Breathing is such a treasured gift. It is something that I enjoy stealing from others, tearing out their throats so that the air that they desperatley need cannot save them. Than you see a set of gleaming white teeth as I laugh. I have just killed someone and I love it, my favourite part is tearing into their flesh with my teeth and eating it, letting there warm sticky blood race down my smooth face. Brown eyes gleam under two thick eyebrows. But these were not eyes that carried warmth they were cold and heartless. So much for being a flower. Mother was wrong about me. I wonder if she sees me as who I am, or if she wants to scream when I feel the need to look up to a full moon and howl and scream and yell becuase there is nothing in life that can beat that sensation. There is no more wilder feeling than howling at a full moon. What would you think if you saw me now, mother?

Just rememeber when you are out in my district at night, don't look back, don't look anywhere. I might be there waiting, but if you hear it don't look back, just run. Run like you have never ran before, it might be your last chance. It makes the game more fun...

"Dhaval..." The wind whispers and you run.

When a person looks onto your eyes and they see past the mask that you put up to protect yourself you feel scared, this person can see into your very soul and past the windows that lead into who you are, but as you stare at them and eye them, glaring venimously into their his eyes you see nothing and no matter how hard you push and prode you can never spot what is behind that stealy gaze. Mummy did you ever think this would happen? Did you ever think I would beocme a monster? As he grabs hold of you in a steel grip you let go of who you are because there is no escape, especially when Dhaval has you. I'm here. Run before it's too late, before I catch you and you die.

s i x feet d o w n

"Sometimes you need to learn when you have gone too far." They were the words I continuously told myself, although they had no effect on what I did. I did what I did and I did it when I wanted. I had no quealms with my lack of control or the way that I could so easily drag out a task. My favourite time was one I slowly devoured a person, I loved it so much when each of their screams rang through the building of my house. It filled me with such a joy. They couldn't get away, but they always tried to, it was what made the game so much more fun. I was the hunter and they were my prey. What kind of hunter let their prey escape? I didn't. Mine stayed to play my little games, they had no choice in the matter.

The strangest thing in my life was the fact that once I was beaten. I remember that day that man escaped. He didn't get far, but I had been beaten. I still remember the large gaping cut that had raced down my face and the numerous wounds that had filled me. The man had escaped with worse, but he had managed to trap me. As I struggled to get up that day, all I could remember was the few other times that I had attempted tocatch large prey, all of those had failed, with me ending up with large wounds, that I couldn't care for. It was why I had learnt the art of first aid. It kept me alive. You don't often see such a skill in this district, but I am me and I have my ways to learn. When i paid a little visit to the aporthery shop, she was so keen to teach me. It was as if I had threatened her.

It was odd allowing myself to saw and fix my own wounds. I loathed seeing my own blood spill onto the ground, so it was necassary. Do you not see the use of myself? I can heal. I should make you proud as you rot in that world you now live in. With the ability to heal I worked my way through large prey, seeking weakness and ways to exploit them. The larger the prey the more wary I grow, but I was never beaten again. I suffered many wounds, but I had the skills to heal. No matter where I go i can still hear the sounds of their voices, the way they screamed, they all did it differently. They echo in my ears and fill me with a pleaseure, I knew no one else, or nothing would give me and it makes me smile. This was my game.

So you better start running. I'm right behind you.

If you know what's good for you
I think you're hot I think you're cool
You're the kinda guy I'd stalk in school
But now that I'm famous, you're up my anus
Now I'm gonna eat you fool!

ODAIR

[cass]

WOOT FINISHED he was so much fun to write. >:D

[gxk]

Accepted!