Lyle O'Malley-District 5

Face Claim: Lasse Pedersen

Lyle is a gangly fifteen year old with more elbows than he needs. He’s going through that awkward stage of life where he’s extremely clumsy and awkward. He’s pale, mostly because of the amount of time he spends inside in his father’s shop or drawing. When he does go outside, he’s been slathered with sunscreen (a rarity in 5) so he doesn’t burn or eventually tan. He has a few freckles where the sunscreen has missed, but aside from that he’s rather ghost-like.

His hair is a gingery-orange that’s reasonably cooperative. He never has much trouble with it as long as he keeps it short. Lyle’s eyes fluctuate between gray and a deep green, depending on the light shining on him. Nice bone structure. He’s attractive, or will be attractive once he grows into himself.

He has a scar on his left ear from his younger sister. They were pretending to fight one day when she threw a pair of scissors at his head. It’s small, but Lyle is still self-conscious about it. He will sometimes cover it with his hand unconsciously, as if to ward off comments and questions about the scar. It’s just another opportunity for people to force him to talk.

His clothing is the usual uniform of merchant’s children-clean clothes but still relatively shabby. He has two pairs of shoes, a rarity. Since he hardly ever goes outside, they are still in tip-top shape. He is always wearing a cloth and string necklace his father gave to him that’s been passed down to the oldest O’Malley boy. It’s getting worn, but Lyle never takes it off. It’s his good-luck charm and Lyle knows that it would be his token if he was ever reaped to go into the Hunger Games.

He’s skinny and his muscles are underdeveloped from a lack of physical exercise. Some of the other boys in his school tease him about it, but he shrugs the abuse off. He will never need to work in the (dwindling) livestock farms or the oil wells, so he has no need for brawn.

Lyle is introverted, preferring to sit inside drawing then hang outside with his peers. His art is his refuge, taking him away from the tyranny of the Capitol. He is quiet, shy, and not good with strangers. He’s bad at letting people in and opening up about his personal life. You could call him mysterious or stuck-up or simply quiet. You can never be 100 percent sure with Lyle. Mostly, he's just lost.

He’s a loner. The only people he talks to are his sister, his father, and, on occasion, customers in his father’s market. He sees no need to talk to his peers in school. Friends are something fleeting. He tries not to attach to people that might leave him because of his mother’s death. She promised that she would always be with him, but she left him. Lyle and his sister Lindsey made a pact. They would never leave each other. That’s the only real relationship he has with a human being. He tells Lindsey the things he keeps inside. He shows her his drawings. They comfort each other when the Games are on and kids their age are being slaughtered.

His art is his creative outlet. He draws the faces of the people around him. He draws his father’s face when hungry women come to the market with a dollar less than they need. He draws Caeser Flickerman and the tributes. He draws his daydreams. He draws his family eating dinner, with one seat empty, saved for his mother. He draws life and he draws death, sometimes intermingling.

He daydreams a lot. He pretends that his mother is still alive and they are out in a meadow, far away from Panem. In his mind, he knows that daydreams will get him nowhere, but it’s nice to escape the real world for a little while.

If he was reaped, he thinks he would die. The Games are a disgusting event, in his mind. Deep inside, however, in a part of his soul he does not wish to acknowledge, he knows that in a kill or be killed situation, he would kill without a second thought. If he *was* reaped, he would not step down for volunteers, but rather accept his fate as a tribute. He would fight, and he would kill.

Lyle’s father and mother were not a love connection. Each was in love with someone else, but they were both rejected. Lyle’s mother figured that she wouldn’t do any better than a merchant, and Mr. O’Malley resigned himself to the thought of marrying the ginger-haired Bridget Rees. They eventually grew to love each other. The couple was married and they had two children before Bridget’s death giving birth to the third, when Lyle was seven and Lindsey was four.

His mother’s last words to him were, “Draw pretty things, Lyle. Pretty things keep you out of trouble.” He wishes it was something he could obey, but he’s discovered that he must draw the world and that the world isn’t pretty. Lyle keeps his drawings in a special cabinet, locked. They could be seen as blasphemous to the Capitol, thus sentencing the whole O’Malley to death by hanging. He’s very protective of his art, and, as stated above, only shares the pictures with his sister.

Growing up after his mother’s death was difficult. Luckily, neither he nor his sister have been reaped for the Hunger Games…yet. He doesn’t have to take any tesserae because his family is well-off, and the odds are in their favor, but he can’t help but worry about his sister.
In school, he’s always made good grades, except for math. His favorite part of school is assemblies, when you’re required to be quiet or face punishment. There’s something powerful about being surrounded by so many of your peers and listening to the eerie echo of silence.

His earliest memory is from when he was four and he was introduced to art. It was on one of the televised Victor specials. One of the Victor’s talents was drawing, and Lyle wanted to try it. He took a paper towel from his father’s store and started sketching the farm by his house. He handed it to his mother proudly, who loudly exclaimed to all within earshot, “My boy’s got a gift!” From that day on, drawing has been his refuge.

Lyle has never quite forgiven the sibling his mother died giving birth to. He knows there’s nothing to do about it, but whenever he’s feeling particularly upset, he draws a picture of the child and baptizes it with his tears. It’s his coping mechanism. He sometimes forgets that the child is also dead.

His childhood was filled with wildflowers and love. But the trips to the meadows ended after his mother died and his father is not one to show affection. He had seven happy years, at least, and there are moments of happiness now…though they are much more rare than they used to be.