Ink Marling, District Five (Finished!) May 24, 2011 20:58:49 GMT -5
Post by Savannah Carey (Stare) on May 24, 2011 20:58:49 GMT -5
She is fifteen  years old.
She was born and raised in District Five 
All she wants is to be unique.<> Appearance <>
Perhaps it's because she wants other people to like her just as much as he did. Because she wants them to tell her that she's beautiful, just like he told her. Because he never used the words "you both". He would tell them, one at a time. He never considered them two parts of one whole. They were individuals. She wants other people to do that to her. But their compliments won't be handed over easily. She knows she has to work toward being beautiful. Why can't they just tell her she's pretty, without conditions such as mascara and lip gloss? He always told her she was amazing, without the odd feeling mask on her face and the silky hair she worked so hard to keep. Maybe he only said those things because he was her brother, and they loved each other. Either way, the others aren't like him. They have their conditions that Inkling had to meet in order to be considered pretty. Inkling meets those conditions. They still don't call her beautiful, though.
She's proud of her hair. That's one thing anyone can realize, just by seeing her. She walks so that it bounces, and likes to reach up and play with the strands. It's silky and soft to the touch (if she'll even let you near it- she hates people feeling her hair), reaching down to a few inches below her shoulders. Inkling likes to say that it's the color of her name, although in the summer it lightens to a dark brown color. The front part of it curves slightly, drawing attention to her face. The other strands are relatively straight up until the ends, where they curve outward a bit. In the sun, it shimmers. Her hair is beautiful, and when people tell her so, she responds, "It should be, for all the products I put in it." But Inkling's hair is more than just something to show off. When she's nervous or scared, she tilts her head forward so she can hide behind her hair. When she's joyful, she tosses it back so it flies out behind her. It's almost like she uses it as another way to express her feelings.
He used to tell her that, unlike Imriahl, she always had a look of childish innocence on her face. Inkling liked that a lot, mostly because of the "unlike Imriahl" part. Even now, at the age of fifteen, she maintains her irreproachable look about her childish face. Innocence itself appears in her wide hazel eyes, surrounded by thin black eyelashes that never seem to grow as long as her friends'. Her lower lids are almost larger than her upper, creating two bags under her eyes that refuse to go away. Her eyebrows are well shaped (people rumor that she plucks them herself, which is probably true) and bend downward near the ends in a way that makes her look kind and attentive. Her eyes are set low on her face, making her forehead look a bit too long, especially when she pulls her hair back.
Her skin is a light carmal-like color, and on her face it is especially smooth. Her cheekbones and chin have always been very prominent, but they curve in a way that keeps her looking young and pretty. Her nose is flat, up into the nostrils, where it fans out rather suddenly. She's never liked her nose, because it's always making her eyes look like they are too far apart. She has the same full lips as her sister, although Imriahl's are always pressed together or curled up in a smirk. Inkling's lips shine with lip gloss, but keep their light color, which goes well with her skin.
Her limbs aren't exactly what one would call thin, but they have a good amount of muscel on them. Her palms are flawed by blisters from all the time she spends climbing the trees outside. Her nails are perfect ovals, though, and she's very careful to keep them well shaped and clean. However, she's always hated the feel of nail polish, so she almost never wears the colorful paint.
Inkling enjoys wearing comfortable clothes that are still stylish. Her outfits usually consist of jeans, a short sleeved top, and a sweatshirt, usually in bright and solid colors. These loose clothes do not show off her curves very well, but she'd choose comfort over style any day. Occasionally, she'll wear a headband to hold her hair out of her face. There is never a time when she is not wearing a golden charm bracelet around her wrist.<> Personality <>
Inkling loves watching storms through the window of the bedroom she shares with her sister. When there's no lightning or thunder, she'll go out and run around in the rain. The stars have always facinated her, and she often goes out on summer nights and gazes up at them, remembering when she and her twin used to dream about the lands beyond the glittering sky. She loves to swim on hot days, and gets the same thrill from playing in the snow in the winter as she did years ago. Inkling loves the feel of sunlight on her skin, and has always hated those days when clouds block out the sun but give no promise of rain. She loves everything about winter except the cold, and enjoys going out and picking flowers for her parents during the spring and summer months.
She eats her vanilla ice cream with orange slices in it, but likes other ice cream flavors without toppings of any kind. Her favorite meal is chicken, mashed potatoes, and ice cold soda, which she's only had once in her life. Inkling doesn't like vegetables (with the exception of potatoes if they have a lot of butter), but enjoys fruits and dairy a lot. Her favorite snack is apple slices dipped in chocolate, probably because that was her brother loved them. She's never liked spicey foods, and prefers foods with a flavor that are soothing to the tongue, such as milk or bananas.
Inkling has always had an odd connection with nature. She became interested in climbing trees at a very young age, and has spent most of her free time in the trees ever since. When they were younger, she and her sister used to stargaze. Inkling loved to make up stories about the glittering lights in the sky. Plants facinate her, and somel of her nightmares are about living in a dark, gray world without any green and growing. Sometimes she'll just go out into the woods and sit on a rock for a while. The fresh air clears her head, organizing her thoughts when things get especially tough.
She's not a worrier, like her sister. Inkling has always been rather brave, climbing high trees and exploring the darkest corners of the woods late at night. She loves the thrill of adventure, and the feeling of adrenaline when some sort of danger confronts her. Every tall pine is another challenge she must overcome. Danger doesn't matter to her- as long at there's a pot at gold at the end of the rainbow, it's worth chasing. She's very careless, and often gets into tough situations. As a result of this, she's always been a very quick thinker. In tough situations she is quick to act and fix her problem that she faces.
Inkling's smart, although she rarely demonstrates the fact, and it certainly isn't reflected in her grades. She just doesn't consider school her biggest priority- why should she waste her time studying when she could be a social butterfly instead? Sometimes her parents scold her for this- she's a wonderful writer and a brilliant mathematician, and she needs to prove it through her grades. Still, Inkling sees this as pointless. If she's already smart, why does she have to go to school?
Ink has always been a very social person. She doesn't really have any close friends, but people tend to like her because of her kind attitude toward everyone. She's always liked having other people around her- it makes her feel more comfortable and more protected. When people don't hang out around her, she immediately assumes something is wrong with her, and tries to fix it by putting more products in her hair and on her skin. She's never been very confident in herself, although it certainly doesn't show on the outside. To others, she is the kind, polite girl who will help anyone who needs it. Except her twin, of course.
One of the first things a person would notice while talking to Inkling is that she is unbelievably positive. She looks at the good in everyone and everthing, except for maybe when it comes to her sister. Even in the worst of situations, she somehow finds something happy to linger on. However, it's a desperate search. She obsesses on the good, totally ignoring the bad. Perhaps she does this as a way to block out other emotions, such as fear and sorrow. She can't shut down her feelings, like her sister, so instead, she intensifies one feeling- joy. This seems to repel others away from her at times, though- she's simply too positive, and it creeps other people out.
The poor girl has nightmares, though. Almost every night, she dreams of being thrown in the Games, or of lands without nature. It's why she and her sister share a room- they both have nightmares, and they're the only ones who can calm each other down. When seperated, they find their nightmares become much darker and much worse. Inkling usually dreams of her brother being caught and whipped by the Keepers, or of her sister dying in the Detention Center. However, her dreams are never starring her. She's never the one being tortured or killed. It's always other people. Her loved ones. When her dreams get bad enough, she wakes up to her sister's gentle shake and tired voice telling her that she was screaming in her sleep again. Inkling isn't surprised anymore. The same thing happens with Imi, and Ink get's up and goes over to calm her down. They rarely have a night that is uninterupted. It seems like nighttime is the only time that the sisters actually put aside their differences and bond a bit. It's the only part of their childhood that stuck while they drifted farther and farther away from each other.
Yet, as much as Inkling misses her childhood, she makes no attempt to reconstruct it. She and her sister took off down opposite paths, and Ink is stubborn enough to believe that her choice was right and Imi's was wrong. Perhaps, deep down, Inkling is mad at her sister for changing so suddenly for the negative. When she really needed support, her sister vanished. Became a different person. No one else could comfort her during the time, just like no one else could calm her down when the nightmares hit. And so Inkling had to save herself from drowning in a sea of sorrow, and now turns her back on her sister when she was having troubles. Selfish and cruel, yes, but Inkling is only human. And humans are stubborn beings.
Inkling made the mistake in thinking that because their personalities had become so different, they would no longer be two halves. Finally, they would each become unique individuals. Sadly, that's not what happened. They were always refered to as 'the twins'. If they were lucky, 'Imi and Inkling'. But rarely would they be spoken about as if they were two people, and Inkling hates that. She wants to be unique, and detatch herself from the depressing, negative girl that her sister has become. She started to dress different and act different- the complete opposite of her sister. People may think that because Imi had become so negative, it was she who weakened the friendship between the girls. But Inkling was the one who pushed her sister farther away when it was crucial for them to stick together, because Inkling wanted to be her own person. She still wants to be considered unique, but other people see her as a twin and not a girl. And this upsets Inkling more than one would realize.
Perhaps she cares too much about what other people think of her. She has, after all, become the person she is today in order to please others. Polite Inkling, always so quiet and calm, thinking only of the good things in like. Inkling, who never disobeys the rules others lay out for her. Yet, it's not enough to please them. "Oh, Inkling, why can't you be more like your sister and take a risk every now and then?" "Imi wouldn't trust that girl, so why do you?" "Inkling, you should know better than to treat your sister that way. You should be more mature, like she is." To Inkling, it seems like they're always comparing her to Imi. She's just never good enough, and it drives her insane. It makes her become less confident in herself, and causes her to change into someone she's not in order to please them. She abandoned herself a long time ago so she could become the girl they want her to be, yet even now she's not enough for them. She's never enough for them.
She even keeps secrets from them so that she looks like a better person. Secret opinions, secret wishes that not even Imi knows. True, hiding them makes her look better, but it also tears her apart on the inside. It seems like there is a constant war in her head between the postive in the negative- the negative so clear and truthful, and the positive so eager to drown everything else out. Inkling has never told anyone about this secret battle that happens inside of her- they'd think she was crazy. And so she keeps quiet, and allows herself to fall apart on the inside as she battles to keep her sanity.
She misses him. On some nights, after her sister is fast asleep, silent tears will slip down her cheeks as her heart begs for him to come back home because he was the only one who understood her. Some days, when it seems to hurt more than usual, she is silent, her eyes dead and her fingers gliding across the smooth links of her charm bracelet sorrowfully. People have learned to treat her kindly on those days, but it doesn't help. He seemed to love them even more than their parents did, and when she woke up that morning and he was gone... it just tore her heart out. She was never the same.<> History <>
The Marlings' first son was born on a beautiful fall day. He was a healthy baby, and the doctors predicted he would grow up to be a strong young man. His parents looked down at him lovingly. He would be Daddy's strong, courageous son, and Mommy's little gentleman. He would perhaps work as a farmer, as his father did at the time. They had entire future planned out for little Luke. However, it was that future which would tear their not yet existant family apart... perhaps forever.
When Luke was just four, the Marlings announced they would be having another baby. Luke didn't quite understand exactly what was happening, but he acted excited anyway. So, as one would expect, the entire family was very surprised when they were informed that Etta Marling would be having twins. At first, they were just shocked. Then, as Luke became very excited (two new playmates? It was more than he had hoped for), his parents slipped into fear. Two new children? They had had a hard enough time just controlling one. However, Luke's enthusiasm kept their spirits up when things seemed especially scary.
Imriahl and Inkling Marling were born on a sunny summer day, when the heat in the air seemed especially thick and heavy, and storm clouds loomed in the distance- a storm waiting to happen. During their first night in Panem, both twins screamed and cried- deafening thunder and blinding lightning shook all of District Five. That morning, when the sun's rays finally managed to pierce through the puffy clouds, the twins' cries did not cease. The parents tried everything they could, finally laying them down on the table for a moment while they tried to figure out what to do. Oddly enough, they moment their tiny fingers brushed by each other, their cries became softer, and they drifted off into sleep.
From then on, the twins chared a bedroom. For their first few months in life, they even shared a crib. The two grew, living and learning together. Inkling took her first steps just a day after Imriahl did, and they sometimes would babble on to each other for the longest time, having no idea what they were saying, but just wanting to hear each other's voices. The parents became exhausted, raising two little girls at the same time. Still, they were very proud of their little girls. Their brother, Luke, was especially facinated by the twins. He thought it was amazing, how connected they seemed to be.
I lay back against the tree, my shoulder pressed against Imi's as we both shake with laughter. The sunlight streams through parted branches which reach above our heads. Luke gazes up at the bright blue sky, his eyes bright and alive. A warm breeze moves through the meadow, causing the leaves above us to ripple. For a moment, all three of us take deep breaths, listening the bird songs and enjoying how peaceful and happy it all is. Imi grins at me, and I smile back as I see the spaces where her front two teeth have fallen out. Already, 'grown up teeth' are beginning to grow, peeking through pale pink flesh. Mom's voice rings out in the distance, and I catch a hint of worry in their voice. Luke stands up, brushing himself off and gesturing for us to follow him. Imi stands up and begins to trot up the field, but I don't want to leave just yet. I tilt my head back, letting my skin absorb the golden rays that filter through the canopy above. Luke turns, noticing I'm not following. He grins, coming back over and taking my hand. "Come on, Ink. It's time to go."
The twins grew into lovely little five-year-olds. The older they got, the harder it was to seperate the two from each other and from their brother. They were the best of friends, doing everything they could together every chance they got. Even in school, they kept together, figuring out numbers and letters together. Imriahl seemed facinated by these, and Inkling was, too, at first. She quickly lost interest, however, and only Imi was able to drag her back into the lesson. In the scary world of kindergarten, they were there for each other. Imi would stick up for Inkling when she was being bullied, and Ink would convince Imi to try out the big slide.
One night, when they were in second grade, their parents decided it was time for the twins to be separated, at least for a little while. They were so close, it was preventing them from making other friends. So one day, when they were at school, they moved Ink's room into a different room. It would be good for them to get used to sleeping without each other. When the twins came home (arm in arm, as usual) they were shocked and terrified. They begged their parents to move their beds back to normal, and Luke got allowed his shouts to join their pleas. However, the twins were dragged apart and forced into different bedrooms.
I gasp, waking up to find my face tear-stained. The nightmares are terrible tonight. For a moment, I stare at my ceiling, feeling the fear course through me. Suddenly, through the darkness, I hear a scream. Somehow understanding, I slide my legs over the edge of the bed, standing slowly and wiping away my tears with the back of my hand. Night has sucked the color out of everything, making it seem like just another nightmare waiting to happen. As I step into the moonlit hall, another scream pierces the air. The carpet silences my footsteps as a move, so that I am like a ghost, moving past the big window that opens up toward the woods. For a moment, I turn my face, allowing the moon's silver radiance take my breath away. The pale light washes over caramel skin, making it look lighter than it really is. I sigh, and continue to move through the silence until I reach our door. Quietly pushing on the worn wood, I slip into the room that is half empty, and make my way over to her bed. My hand gently shakes her shoulder, and her eyes open with a start. By the time Mom arrives, she is already fast asleep. I gaze at her with soft hazel eyes. "You can go back to sleep, Mom. I've got it."
Imriahl's bed was moved back after that, and everything seemed to happily go back to normal. For a little while, anyway. Luke and the twins enjoyed all the time they could together. The three were probably the happiest in all of District Five at the time. Summer days were spent out in the sun, laying on soft meadow grass. On winter nights they could be found near a warm fire, telling stories of happy, faraway lands. They'd spend many clear nights out in their yard, pointing at different stars and giving them names. They were happy, warm, colorful times.
But moments like those never last.
The girls were in fourth grade when the yelling started. They would get up together and press their ears against the door, listening to their parents shout at Luke- about his grades, about his future, about his friends, and about his attitude. At first, he would be silent, taking their verbal blows. Later, he would come into the twins' room and tell them that it would be alright, and everything would work out in the end. But then he started yelling back. The arguments got worse, the shouting louder. Luke stopped his reassurance the girls. And it went on like that, for three years. The twins became more and more afraid, holding onto each other for dear life because they knew that if they let go, they, too, would fall apart as they realized that Luke had been lying. Things would not turn out alright.
In fact, the girls were only in sixth grade when the unthinkable happened.
I wake up before my sister this morning, which is unusual. The hosue is eerily silent, and I immediately know something has changed. Something is wrong. I slide my legs over the side of my bed, throwing the worn covers back. Before I even stand, though, something on the scratched wooden table by my bed catches my attention. A silver charm bracelet, with a little silver heart on it. I look across the room, and see that Imi has one, too. I notice, too, a tiny piece of paper wrapped around the silver clasp. I finger mine, ready to open it, when there is a sudden clash in the kitchen that makes me jump. I look out the window, observing that it's still dark outside, which must mean Mom is making breakfast for Luke. She's usually very quiet, though. I get up and move down the dark hall. When I arrive in the kitchen, I notice the single lightbulb that sways back and forth over our round kitchen table is flickering. Luke isn't sitting there. He must be sleeping in for a bit. Mom is moving around quickly, taking out pans and putting them back. Her hands are shaking as she picks up the milk that was sitting forgotten on the counter up until this moment, and attempts to pour it into a bowl without anything in it. I cough, and she turns toward me. Her eyes are wide and pink from crying. The milk misses the bowl by at least a foot, pooling on the counter top and dripping down over the side. Suddenly terrified, I fumble with the note on the charm bracelet, tearing it near the center. My heart pounds as I read the note. Only three words, scrawled out hurridly, stare up at me. I'll miss you.
The charm bracelet slips through my fingers, jingling softly as it hits the floor. And then there is silence once more.[/i][/color]
Ink never forgave him, and never forgave her parents. How could she? They argued with him so much, he couldn't stand living there anymore. And Luke... he left without even giving her a proper good bye. He didn't even tell her he was leaving. She thought they told each other everything. They searched for days, but he hid well. They didn't even find a trace until the second week, when they found the woven ring Imi had made him. By that time, they were looking for a body. After all, how could a sixteen year old make it out there on his own? Inkling refused to go to school for the first week after he left. She simply sat at a chair in front of the door, staring out the battered window, waiting for him to know on the door and tell her things would be alright. After a week, her parents finally managed to force her back into school. If she had been distracted before, she was even more so then. She spent lunch in the bathroom, crying.
What would happen if they didn't find him? Inkling couldn't even begin to imagine. The house would always seem empty. The memories would haunt her forever. What would happen to his room? Would it be cleared out, or would her parents simply close the door, not strong enough to look through his things? Would they stop talking about him? It hurt to think about it. But the days passed by, the phone steadily began to ring less, the clues vanishing, and life moved on. The family couldn't live forever in sorrow because they had lost someone. It happened suddenly. Like someone had flipped a switch. They stopped expecting leads. They stopped expecting sightings of him. They stopped crying themselves to sleep. And they continued to live their lives as if nothing had happened.
We sit at the kitchen table silently. Only the sound of forks clinking against plates breaks the deafening quiet. His chair has been dragged away from the table and now sits in the darkest corner of the kitchen, collecting dust. Even the lightbulb is completely still and unflickering, as if it can sense the mood that is so thick in the air. None of us will admit it, but he's still here. In that chair, and that lightbulb, and the counter. We're breathing in the memories that flood our minds on this horrible, horrible day. He's haunting us, a person who was but no longer is. Each of us is trapped by our own happy memories that can't possibly be now, because now is a dark, sorrowful, empty time. We're sitting together, but walls of hurt make us solitary. This is the day. Exactly one year ago, Luke left us. Maybe forever.
Inkling pushed her sister away after that. She became her own person- an individual who would never again trust strong compassion toward another person, because it would only end in a broken heart. She made new friends, abandoning her sister as she climbed the social ladder toward success and away from the pain. She made new happy memories- ones that would not strangle her. And life moved on without her brother.
Today, she is very much the same. Blocking out the pain with joy that is almost real. Only looking at the positive. She laughs with people that are not her sister, and calms nightmares almost every night. The people around her don't even notice what she's hiding. They're so blinded by her smile that they can't even see the chaos inside.