well, uh-oh, running out of breath, but I got stamina. uh-oh, running now, I close my eyes. demetri sorhum, a hunger games original charatcer as penned by samantha. dependent on rebelhq.
the district o9 victor made a snap judgement formed on his instinct and decided, that he did not react in any manner which would make him appear to be a threat. he seemed to be incapable of being a threat of any kind. this was a mere assumption on demetriâs part. the district 1o male as identifiable by the square cloth pinned on his shirt â the way he talked, the way of the manner he conducted and carried himself â offered him glimpses, of the sense of awkwardness. demetri lowered the sickle from the upright display he held it in; his arm returning to his side. the tanned skinned maleâs face said it all, he seemed a little confused but intrigued all the same from the district 1o victor himself to his words. he anger simmered down by then. âi was practicing, which by the looks of you youâll need for the game. or youâll END up like that dummy.â he cocked his head towards the dummy. âyou CANâT weigh thirty pounds soaking wet underneath that training uniform.â
Mia was intrigued by Demetri Sorghum. Her dark brown orbs watched the way his toned muscles worked, raising a brow and attempting to memorize his footwork from behind. It was the same routine she often did with all the tributes: learn their techniques, exploit their weaknesses, and give her tributes the upper hand in the Games. Only this year was different because she was a tribute again. She chuckled with mirth, when Demetri turned around, eyeing the sickle in his hand with a roll of her eyes. âJust because you managed to lacerate a training dummy doesnât mean Iâm going to quiver with fear over your empty threats.â The female victor noted with a delicate smirk, taking a few casual steps closer to him and glancing over his physique. He had kept in shape after his Games, which made him a worthy contender this year. âYou also need to get a lot closer to hurt me with that sickle than I need to kill you with a knife - And I rarely miss my mark.â She retorted with a pleased smile, glancing at the sickle once more before her eyes looked toward his.
he shouldâve let the amount of anger and frustration he was harboring simmer down. he shouldâve focused fully and completely on the REAL task at hand. he shouldâve not been subject to his uncontrollable impulse. there was plenty of shouldâves. consistent with his impulsive nature, demetri moved into action. the black-haired and dark-eyed with deeply tanned skin male took a step forward a little, closing the distance between them to almost nothing. if he would, perhaps, just about lean only a few inches closer the semicircular blade would graze the dark-haired femaleâs neck. he then spoke impulsively, doubtless saying something to the district o2 victor that heâd PROBABLY regret later on. âHERE in this training center threats can be NOTHING more than empty. out there, in the games iâll make my threat. i always make good my promisesâand my threats.â with reflexes, he moved the sickle and held it in front of his face, cognizing that space which separated the district o2 female from the district o9 male. âand this. donât DOUBT my ability. one way or another, i can get you. many a pretty face iâve seen, iâve not a problem decapitating yours.â
i am going to work on the replies to my own starters. then iâll head to the starter tag and reply to a few! i canât inbox some people to plot seeing as my account is new, but iâll respond to the people who messaged me in a bit. once again, my nameâs samantha. feel free to call me sam and hit me up to plot, if you please.
his fingers curled around the handle and he brought the sickle forward, swinging the open crescent-shaped blade at the dummyâs midsection. TIGHT, defined muscles contracted underneath the identical training uniform the tanned male wore, only distinguishable from the others by his respective district number o9 on a square cloth pinned to his shirt. demetri began to slash at the dummy more, cutting its face and neck, channeling HIS ANGER AND FRUSTRATION at life and the challenges of being away from his family once more. raising the short-handled tool up to decapitate the dummy, only stopping when he heard someone behind him. turning on his heel, demetri had the semicircular blade held to the front, held back ready to be swung. ânext time you sneak up on me i might not be so MERCIFUL. the next time you won't live to see another day, especially if itâs in the games.â
concentrate, play the game, and donât be afraid to win! a famous person once said that, demetri agrees with it wholeheartedly. my nameâs samantha! this is an introduction and bullet point biography about demetri that iâll expand on later. iâm a bit tired.
coming from a large, rural, and economically poor family in district o9 ( itâs a very poor district, though slightly, better than district 11 ) demetri thought he knew hardship, but nothing could compare to the hunger games. what he faced as a child, prepared him for more than anything, more than any career academy ( in district o1, o2, and or o4 ) could for a game that meant fighting to the death. he learned things that you wonât learn in a classroom.
as soon as you were old enough to walk and talk in the the sorghum family, you were put to work. demetri and his five siblings were all put to work to support the family, probably about four or five years old, they all first worked alongside their mother and learned to sow, crop with a sickle, and how to grind the leftover grain. when he was nine years old, he went to work in the many factories in district o9, that processed the grain that the women like his three younger sisters harvested. he did extra overtime hours working in the field to get the leftover grain from the day when the twins vannes and graine were born. his mother always found a sustainable use for the tiny scraps left over.
between the hours of dusk and early dawn, after a long day at the factory, heâd reap with the sickle, cutting the barley above the clover, so as that nothing but clean barley was bound. he did the same thing, every night, lifting the heavy crescent moon-shaped blade. the sickle became as familiar to demetri as a sword to sword-wielding career from the academy. it is an unorthodox weapon of choice. this weapon of choice is really not so unusual though, as it appeared among one of the weapons in the cornucopia in a recent game. of all users in the hunger games, demetri is the most known for wielding the sickle. he has a preference for sickles. he will use scythes, though too.
while learning to wield the sickle to great effect as a young boy, he also became increasingly strong. soon after he began the extra hours of work in the field, he gradually got stronger. years of working the factory and in the field built up his bulk, he reached the height of physical strength in his teenage years.Â
the extra overtime hours working in the field did little to help the sorghum family. and even as some of his sibling came of age and worked to help provide for the family, it did little to relieve them. so demetri as the eldest took tessarae for each of his five siblings and parents. this gave him seven extra entries in the reaping per year since he was twelve, luck seemed to keep him out of harmâs way until he was seventeen years old. he was one year away from escaping the games. thatâs when fate didnât play him good cards. demetri heard the strong, horrid cries of his sisters and the high-pitched screams of his brothers. he wouldnât forget that day.
demetri survived by taking advantage of the flaws in the game, using the environment to his advantage and using the gamemakersâ constructions as a weapon against them. to kill the last tribute he used the sickle he nabbed that was in the supplies in the cornucopia in the beginning. he used it to kill a career by slashing them in the back of the neck. he also used the sickle in the beginning to kill while the bloodbath went on, making an escape.
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