Daren Nightbird District 11 FINISHED
Feb 15, 2013 11:32:00 GMT -5
Post by Anna Banana on Feb 15, 2013 11:32:00 GMT -5
Name: Daren Nightbird
Age: 37
Gender: Male
District/Area: District 11
Appearance:
Comments/Other:
Age: 37
Gender: Male
District/Area: District 11
Appearance:
[/justify][/blockquote]Personality:Most of you already know me, I'm part of a family in District 11 that most people already know, the Nightbird family. Due to a long chain of events I wished to remain...well...unknown. People would think that I would be happy with how things are, but still...let's just get on with this shall we.
I stand at the fair height of 5'11" with a moderately powerful build. I mean it's not like I'm weak by any stretch of the imagination. The years have been kind to me in that respect. I'm at least proud of that fact, all of my other family members have all bene well built and healthy. My hair is kind of short, I don't know exactly how to describe it, it has sort of a curl to it. Color, well it's probably like a dark brown, nothing to special. I've tried many times to smooth it out and other stuff like that but it has some natural curl to it that always ends up returning. My forehead is rather large, to much separation from my eyes. I think that I'm balding from all the stress I've had to deal with in my life. The most current of that being my ill wife, but that's another story.
My eyes in all honesty are devoid of emotion and life. They tend to have the same expression, sadness, happiness, anger, they don't register on my face. At one time they may have, but now...there is very little in my life that causes me to be happy. My children are really the only people who can bring any sense of happiness to my features. It's sad but true, my life has been growing difficult of late, I just know that my wife won't last much longer.
My mouth that was formerly always drawn up in a smile is always stuck in he same position. If one looks closely the smile lines can still be seen on my face. With time though I can foresee them disappearing from my face. Maybe in time I could learn to be happy with how things are, but for now, despair has it's grip on me.
As I've said before my build is of average height and muscle. I'm a hard worker to my muscles are always growing. When I work it takes my mind off of everything going on in my life. My style choices are a bit odd at best, maybe a little eccentric. A pair of jeans are as normal as it gets, from there I have an odd assortment of shirts. I'm not even sure how to describe them, like a strange material kind of tight. Over that I wear a sort of jacket/coat made of wool. It's been passed down in my family over each generation so it has a sort of sentimental value to me. A connection with how things used to be. I think that's about it, I mean, at least everything important is out of the way. You have an idea of what I look like, and if you don't well you just must be dumb.
[/justify][/blockquote]History:Well most people before things started going wrong for me knew me as an upbeat person. I could always be seen with a smile on my face because I knew at the end of the day I would be returning home to my beautiful wide and kids. They were my real heart and soul, the prupose behind my life, and I loved them all dearly. Even after our first two children died we both stayed positive, having faith in the fact that we would have more.
I always tried to help people, in any way that I could be it with advice or physical labor. Both my wife and I firmly believed that we should help those who don't have the strength or will to go on. Sometimes it worked and sometimes it didn't, that's called life. We couldn't dwell upon those "failures" that followed us everywhere because we had done our best. All of that changed though when I learned that my wife...was dying. We all knew it, myself, our children, it seemed the only one who didn't know it was my wife. She refused to admit that she would soon be leaving us, that the responsibility of raising our daughter and son would fall on my shoulders.
Everything that I once was melted away, and I gave in to depression. Unknown to my family I frequented bars, and I would come home drunk. Collapsing onto the couch I would hope when I woke up that it had all been a horrible dream. Eventually I learned that it wasn't a dream, and the cycle would begin again. Day in and day out I would go to the bar to drown my sorrows. It didn't help though, I knew it didn't help, I needed to be strong for my children. If they knew that I had given up the way that I had than who would they have to lean on.
With great effort I vowed that I would change my drinking habits, if only for their sakes. I did with some results, I still drink and at times I will fall into despair, but I know that my children will need me. Not it is them that I live for, to provide them with the life they deserve. My generous nature has all but disappeared, replaced by one that may seem selfish. It isn't though, everything I earn everything I do, it's all for my children, to provide for them.
If someone goes out of their way to ask me to do something than I will consider aiding them, but if it means time away from my children I will politely refuse. It's not that I don't care anymore, it's that I care MORE about my family. I want to be with them, hug them, know that they are there. A single touch is all it takes for me to know that they are there, but it's like a drug. I NEED to be with them, forever and always, to look into their faces and make sure that they are smiling.
[/justify][/blockquote]Codeword: OdairAlright, so where do I start, you want some history, but I have 37 years of it, and how many of you actually want to stick around for all of that. Let's be honest here, it would bore you to death. So in light of that I'll just cover the important stuff for you.
My parents were both born and raised in District 10, but were moved to District 11 due to uprisings. They were one of the few families that was able to leave during that struggle, and it was probably for the better. I on the other hand was born in and have been raised my entire life, in District 11. I never knew if I had any siblings, infact I never even knew my mother. From what my father had told me she died giving birth to me. What a wonderful thing to know am I right, every child wants to believe they were the cause of their mothers death. I know better than to think that now, but I was only a child back than.
My father did a great job at raising me on his own though, the bond we shared was unlike any that anyone had ever seen before. Not only did were we father and son, but we were also best friends. There were no secrets between the two of us. So anyways, I grew older, worked harder, and I met the woman that I call my wife. Her name was Cheryl, I had met her when we were both seventeen years old, and for a year we spent as much time as we could with eachother. Than as soon as we were both eighteen we were married. Some would say that we were rushing things, but when two people love eachother as much as we did you want to be with them forever.
Eight months later we had our first child, and only a year later another. Together, me, Cheryl, and my father raise the children as best as we could. He insisted that he be a part of their lives because we were so young. For five happy years we lived with the children, the most precious gifts that could be bestowed upon us. It was not to be though for they contracted a disease through the winter and passed on from this life. We were both devastated when they passed away, but the news that Cheryl was pregnant again gave us hope that we would be able to start anew.
Cheryl gives birth to our third child, whom we named Othal. For five years it was just the three of us together, until Cheryl was pregnant once more with our fourth and final child...Eileen. We were happy and loving, Cheryl and I both loved our children dearly, but our happiness once more only lasted so long. For six years we were happy, but this time it was Cheryl we were about to lose. I could not tell the children though, I couldn't tell them that their mother was...dying. I didn't want to believe it either so I remained silent and continued on as if things weren't changing. While I myself changed multiple times I still remained that person that Cheryl wanted me to be. A strong father for our children.
Comments/Other: