Barli Bisogno D3
Aug 5, 2014 11:33:59 GMT -5
Post by KalamityKat on Aug 5, 2014 11:33:59 GMT -5
Barli Bisogno
12, Male, District 3.
12, Male, District 3.
Appearance
My face is quite elongated and my skin is as pale as paper. You can see the veins that run across my face, especially around the temples. It's as if my skin has been stretched across my face and is so thin, if you poked it, the skin would break. My nose matches my whole head - long, and again and my mouth is thin, but my mother says it's very red for my type. Lots of people comment on how bright and colorful my blue eyes are, but I personally think they are quite dull. I see people from the Capitol and they have pink, purple and golden eyes sometimes. They look so eccentric and unique! And my eyebrows are like twigs because they are really thin and a stick-brown like most of my hair. When you look at me, my hair is what you will notice first. It falls down to about my waist. I'm very proud of my hair, it's very smooth and shiny and brown like chocolate. It's my best asset, but I kind of ruined it... There's this one streak that is bleached because of an accident. Hopefully, in some time it will fall out, or I'll cut it out. That's a last resort because it might reveal my burn on the side of my face. It almost looks as if I've been whipped, it looks like thin, grey wisps on my right cheek. I'm quite embarrassed by it, but luckily, it's not too noticeable because my fringe covers that part.
I'm incredibly tall and lean for my age. It's obviously not that hard to be thin, but I'm really tall. I'm nearing 6ft already, and since I'm only 12, so I'm going to grow still. Loads of people ask me if I'm embarrassed about my height, but I don't really care. In fact, I like it because I tower above my friends. It makes me feel like the ruler, or a giant. And I'm stick thin, I have no muscles. People often compare me to a massive praying mantis. Don't really know why. Am I scary? I try not to be. I think my dad is of an out-of-Panem heritage, that's where the last name must have come from. I didn't inherit anything. You can usually fine me with at least 3 bruises on my legs. My mother tells me to be more careful when playing, but playing like little girls is too boring. Playing like boys is what boys do, because boys are boys, right? It seems like I never tan, either. It's kind of irritating because at the moment the girls in are school have gotten into dating (personally I think dating at the moment is stupid) and they all like the boys who have taken advantage of the sun. No matter how long I spend in the sun, I don't tan. Not even sunburn.
Personality
If you were to meet me, you could probably tell I am a bit of an oddball. Which is half true. I guess when they see my hair, they assume something and that something is usually that I'm a weirdo. Personally, I disagree. I might do some strange stuff once in a while but that doesn't make me a weirdo. And also, once I tell them the story of my burn, they think I'm clumsy. Well, they're right about that. I've lost count of the times I've hit my head by just opening a cupboard or walking into doors. My mother thinks I'm the smartest idiot in the world. Many people tell me I lack common sense and somehow accidentally always find the hardest way to do things. Dad says that isn't a bad thing; it apparently expands my creative mind by thinking of various ways to solve a problem. My Dad's pretty strange, I'd say stranger than me. He makes sculptures out of metals. I think he's some sort of artist. But he only sells to the richer of District 3 because it's a lot of effort to make these things. Lots of people ask my opinion of the Hunger Games. I don't really have one. It's sad to watch the butchering of children my age, or older, but after a while, you get used to seeing it. The pain of their deaths still hurt, even without knowing, but it's become standard. If I were in the games, I would try my hand at hiding for as long as possible. I think it's better to just not think about it at all. It's a one in a million chance.
If you were to ask me what I truly am like I without being modest or anything else like that, I wouldn't be able to tell you anything. I have a bit of a problem. I would say that I'm incredibly modest and even if I was with family, I really hate to be rude and boastful. Frankly, I can't stand obnoxious people, but I say nothing. I don't tell people my feelings. In fact, I don't really speak at all. Not in class, not to my family, I'm generally silent unless there is a necessity to speak. You could say I would be a target for bullies because I never say anything to anyone if someone's doing something wrong. I used to be, but one correctly placed punch solved this issue. I like my other and Dad. Dad and I get on better than I do with mother. I've always been a bit more formal with mother then I am with Dad. For starters, I always call her mother instead of mom, and then I usually just stay quiet around her and follow her orders, like cleaning the dishes or doing the laundry. And then with Dad, I'll offer to help him on his sculptures and we'll have some banter. I have no brothers or sisters, which sometime is a good thing but other times a bad thing because sometimes I get roped into things I don't want to do, but other times I miss a friend's company. I'd love a big brother. I'm usually pretty lonely. I'm not very good at making friends.
Lots of people don't like me because I don't try and initiate conversation with people. Personally, I don't think I really need to initiate conversation. It's both tiring and effort to remain friends with people. Even when I try my hardest, no body thinks it's enough. For some reason, everyone gets pissed at me for doing something wrong. I don't notice what I do. I mean, with the last friend I had, we had a laugh, we did friend stuff and then suddenly, they began shouting at me for not trying hard enough, or something like that. I didn't get the gist of the rant but by the end of it, we weren't friends. I wish I could hang around with older people, like teenagers. They seem so much more relaxed and less uptight. Mentally, I think I'm their age. I seem a lot more mature than people in my year. It annoys me to watch those around me fail. I'm also a lot smarter than them. Yes, I hate to say it, but it's a fact that I am top in my class. I've always preferred to be aroudn older kids and the older kids like me. Of course, it's a bit weird to hang round with a 12 year old but on days where my class must literally hate me, I can always go over to them and they treat me like their little brother. I wish I could skip life and go straight to 15.
History
As a young toddler, I didn't have it that bad. I played outside by myself, came in for food and came in for sleep. It was simple. Nobody died. My hair never got cut. My young life was boring as I look back on it. There isn't much to say. I remember the first time I helped my Dad with his sculpture. I was his 'gopher' with the metals. I had a huge load of metals in my hand and just as I stepped into his workshop, this really sharp piece of metal slipped and cut a part of my ring finger off. It's now a stump. My dad got super embarrassed and said I could stop helping him out until I was older. I didn't. I love helping my Dad out and a missing finger wouldn't stop me. I guess it was a bit off-putting but it was fine after I got it all bandaged up.
When I was 10, my mother told me to clean the bathroom. I usually clean the bathroom. And as usual, I put bleach in the correct places. Then I accidentally dropped it and it spilled everywhere. It got on my shoes and in my efforts to clean it all up, I got it in my hair. It ended up burning part of my face, it still hasn't healed. I burnt parts of my hands and feet but they have healed. It's scarred but still there. I was so scared. When it was burning and I couldn't do anything but splash water on my face, it made me cry. It began to tingle and it became more raw. And then it stung like hell and I knew it had made a mark. My mum wrapped my head up, washed my feet and hair and was just about okay.
Now, I'm doing okay. I don't have any friends my age but I can usually hang round with the older kids. I'm actually a bit of a poet. I write poetry to describe stuff around me, what I'm feeling and other problems. Rhyming just comes easily to me. My teacher is impressed but she read them out to the class and the class laughed at me so I stopped showing them to her. Instead, because I felt I needed to tell someone what was on my paper, so I managed to hang roudn with the older kids as long as I tell them my poetry. They turn it into a rap and look cool. I don't mind because we're friends and I enjoy their company.
Odair
My face is quite elongated and my skin is as pale as paper. You can see the veins that run across my face, especially around the temples. It's as if my skin has been stretched across my face and is so thin, if you poked it, the skin would break. My nose matches my whole head - long, and again and my mouth is thin, but my mother says it's very red for my type. Lots of people comment on how bright and colorful my blue eyes are, but I personally think they are quite dull. I see people from the Capitol and they have pink, purple and golden eyes sometimes. They look so eccentric and unique! And my eyebrows are like twigs because they are really thin and a stick-brown like most of my hair. When you look at me, my hair is what you will notice first. It falls down to about my waist. I'm very proud of my hair, it's very smooth and shiny and brown like chocolate. It's my best asset, but I kind of ruined it... There's this one streak that is bleached because of an accident. Hopefully, in some time it will fall out, or I'll cut it out. That's a last resort because it might reveal my burn on the side of my face. It almost looks as if I've been whipped, it looks like thin, grey wisps on my right cheek. I'm quite embarrassed by it, but luckily, it's not too noticeable because my fringe covers that part.
I'm incredibly tall and lean for my age. It's obviously not that hard to be thin, but I'm really tall. I'm nearing 6ft already, and since I'm only 12, so I'm going to grow still. Loads of people ask me if I'm embarrassed about my height, but I don't really care. In fact, I like it because I tower above my friends. It makes me feel like the ruler, or a giant. And I'm stick thin, I have no muscles. People often compare me to a massive praying mantis. Don't really know why. Am I scary? I try not to be. I think my dad is of an out-of-Panem heritage, that's where the last name must have come from. I didn't inherit anything. You can usually fine me with at least 3 bruises on my legs. My mother tells me to be more careful when playing, but playing like little girls is too boring. Playing like boys is what boys do, because boys are boys, right? It seems like I never tan, either. It's kind of irritating because at the moment the girls in are school have gotten into dating (personally I think dating at the moment is stupid) and they all like the boys who have taken advantage of the sun. No matter how long I spend in the sun, I don't tan. Not even sunburn.
Personality
If you were to meet me, you could probably tell I am a bit of an oddball. Which is half true. I guess when they see my hair, they assume something and that something is usually that I'm a weirdo. Personally, I disagree. I might do some strange stuff once in a while but that doesn't make me a weirdo. And also, once I tell them the story of my burn, they think I'm clumsy. Well, they're right about that. I've lost count of the times I've hit my head by just opening a cupboard or walking into doors. My mother thinks I'm the smartest idiot in the world. Many people tell me I lack common sense and somehow accidentally always find the hardest way to do things. Dad says that isn't a bad thing; it apparently expands my creative mind by thinking of various ways to solve a problem. My Dad's pretty strange, I'd say stranger than me. He makes sculptures out of metals. I think he's some sort of artist. But he only sells to the richer of District 3 because it's a lot of effort to make these things. Lots of people ask my opinion of the Hunger Games. I don't really have one. It's sad to watch the butchering of children my age, or older, but after a while, you get used to seeing it. The pain of their deaths still hurt, even without knowing, but it's become standard. If I were in the games, I would try my hand at hiding for as long as possible. I think it's better to just not think about it at all. It's a one in a million chance.
If you were to ask me what I truly am like I without being modest or anything else like that, I wouldn't be able to tell you anything. I have a bit of a problem. I would say that I'm incredibly modest and even if I was with family, I really hate to be rude and boastful. Frankly, I can't stand obnoxious people, but I say nothing. I don't tell people my feelings. In fact, I don't really speak at all. Not in class, not to my family, I'm generally silent unless there is a necessity to speak. You could say I would be a target for bullies because I never say anything to anyone if someone's doing something wrong. I used to be, but one correctly placed punch solved this issue. I like my other and Dad. Dad and I get on better than I do with mother. I've always been a bit more formal with mother then I am with Dad. For starters, I always call her mother instead of mom, and then I usually just stay quiet around her and follow her orders, like cleaning the dishes or doing the laundry. And then with Dad, I'll offer to help him on his sculptures and we'll have some banter. I have no brothers or sisters, which sometime is a good thing but other times a bad thing because sometimes I get roped into things I don't want to do, but other times I miss a friend's company. I'd love a big brother. I'm usually pretty lonely. I'm not very good at making friends.
Lots of people don't like me because I don't try and initiate conversation with people. Personally, I don't think I really need to initiate conversation. It's both tiring and effort to remain friends with people. Even when I try my hardest, no body thinks it's enough. For some reason, everyone gets pissed at me for doing something wrong. I don't notice what I do. I mean, with the last friend I had, we had a laugh, we did friend stuff and then suddenly, they began shouting at me for not trying hard enough, or something like that. I didn't get the gist of the rant but by the end of it, we weren't friends. I wish I could hang around with older people, like teenagers. They seem so much more relaxed and less uptight. Mentally, I think I'm their age. I seem a lot more mature than people in my year. It annoys me to watch those around me fail. I'm also a lot smarter than them. Yes, I hate to say it, but it's a fact that I am top in my class. I've always preferred to be aroudn older kids and the older kids like me. Of course, it's a bit weird to hang round with a 12 year old but on days where my class must literally hate me, I can always go over to them and they treat me like their little brother. I wish I could skip life and go straight to 15.
History
As a young toddler, I didn't have it that bad. I played outside by myself, came in for food and came in for sleep. It was simple. Nobody died. My hair never got cut. My young life was boring as I look back on it. There isn't much to say. I remember the first time I helped my Dad with his sculpture. I was his 'gopher' with the metals. I had a huge load of metals in my hand and just as I stepped into his workshop, this really sharp piece of metal slipped and cut a part of my ring finger off. It's now a stump. My dad got super embarrassed and said I could stop helping him out until I was older. I didn't. I love helping my Dad out and a missing finger wouldn't stop me. I guess it was a bit off-putting but it was fine after I got it all bandaged up.
When I was 10, my mother told me to clean the bathroom. I usually clean the bathroom. And as usual, I put bleach in the correct places. Then I accidentally dropped it and it spilled everywhere. It got on my shoes and in my efforts to clean it all up, I got it in my hair. It ended up burning part of my face, it still hasn't healed. I burnt parts of my hands and feet but they have healed. It's scarred but still there. I was so scared. When it was burning and I couldn't do anything but splash water on my face, it made me cry. It began to tingle and it became more raw. And then it stung like hell and I knew it had made a mark. My mum wrapped my head up, washed my feet and hair and was just about okay.
Now, I'm doing okay. I don't have any friends my age but I can usually hang round with the older kids. I'm actually a bit of a poet. I write poetry to describe stuff around me, what I'm feeling and other problems. Rhyming just comes easily to me. My teacher is impressed but she read them out to the class and the class laughed at me so I stopped showing them to her. Instead, because I felt I needed to tell someone what was on my paper, so I managed to hang roudn with the older kids as long as I tell them my poetry. They turn it into a rap and look cool. I don't mind because we're friends and I enjoy their company.
Odair