Mark Adelle Drills ?! of District 2 [Fin]

Head structure for Mark can be considered to be a square, with his chin being rounded off to near flatness. He has been gifted with very soft and pink lips, but he does not exactly like how thin they are. Teeth and skin - thanks to smoking - have stained the whites a little, but the mouth is more full of stink than discoloration. Usually, he smiles, even if his insides are the polar opposite of the outside implication. Accompanied by the big nose, the 18-year old is a little self-conscious of this aspect, as his family would proclaim that those with big-tipped noses and broad foreheads were ideal for leading and being excellent Peacekeepers - to his chagrin. Thick, black eyebrows emphasize the light-green eyes, which are bright and vibrant. Over the eyes always, however, are either glasses of little rim or sunglasses of thick framing, hence the reason for sometimes being called 'Shades'. Never did he have the care to get contacts, though his family members say that they had paid for contacts for if he got in the Hunger Games. In the mornings, his lighter-brown hair is brushed in the way his family likes the strands to be; but, as the day goes on (and after spending long periods of time in smoke and with friends), he does not care for how the hair gets all tangled up and messy. Acne bouts come and go, not as often or long of a period as when he was in the middle teenager years.

Due to Career training and later scrimmaging, Mark has a decently-toned body. While the family would like more, he would say otherwise. As to fighting with others, his torso is riddled with marks, scars, bruises, and other injuries. Calloused hands fiddle with the rolled paper and pills. Small patches of scars leave naked spots along the arm; but, from a distance, the missing follicles are not very noticeable unless upon close inspection. Even on his belly is a sign of ordeal; one long streak of red flesh whips around the umbilical region, making a wavy S-shape, burned off. He is not particularly caring for the marks of hardship. Standing at 6'2 and weighing at 169 lbs., Mark is appropriate for his frame.

Legs are much like the arms: Pistons of well tone. They are also stained with similar marks and battle scars. Overall, Mark is white and hardly tans, shown by the redness of his legs if he stays out in the sun for a long time. His feet are bony and look presentable. Due to have cushions in sock and shoes, the soles are not as tough as the hands, but they cannot be called soft either. When Mark walks, he tries to hold himself in a way that is considered 'normal': A little sideways but otherwise considered 'straight' enough. Not pigeon-toed or anything of the sort.

Clothing for Mark consists of dull colors. Vibrancy was never too keen for him. While he does like the color of white, the mixture of a darker or less saturated colors have his interest. As his standard, the young adult will throw on a short-sleeved shirt, a hoodie or sweatshirt, and jeans losing color. Sneakers are common, and they consist of long laces and black and white. When he feels like the day is right, Mark will wear a tie to go along with the slacker-like clothing. After a time with the gang, the smell of smoke can be caught on the fabrics, and all he tries to do is walk off as normal as can be for him. Play the situation cool, as he would put the ordeal; and, then, when he gets home, take the threads to the wash quickly and quietly.

Under no substance influence, Mark attempts to remain logical but with compassion. Calmness and rationality are two of his key traits; and, a lot of times, he tries to see the good in people - despite the actions they do on the outside. (Which might explain how he is able to handle the people that he hangs out with; not the best bunch of individuals). He is the type to sometimes hang out in the corner by himself, just to get a breather from the smoke. To his family, this side of personality is prominent. Quite a contradictory side to those times where the rowdy nature of his friends brings out his own, the trait seems. Mark can get loud - but this is only in front of his buddies. Never would the 18-year old try while his family is around. Cool - as in accepting of others - is what he tries to be, because such a quality is an opportunity to bring in quite a crowd.

Fun is reserved for the group. Swearing frequently comes out of his mouth absently - even to people that he does not know. His tongue is colorful of cussing and having laughter with the buds is why he hangs out with them. While he tries to be rational and logical, Mark does not always let his brain reign supreme over the potential euphoria doing crazy tasks can give him. In a sense, he is willing to do a lot of favors for the group - as long as he knows the reason behind asking him. If he knows the coast is clear from Peacekeepers, Mark can be the first one to start drinking or doing drugs, needing himself a fix for the grass rolled up.

Suppression and expectations from the family has harbored Mark to have violent madness. In the confines of anger, he is prone to throwing items across the room, busting in furniture, and overall being a brute. There is no filter for his mouth in the state; and, with a sort of dependency (though he will not admit such a notion) on friends, he tends to push them away - because he loves them dearly. Also due in part of this is him not being able to fully trust the group except his best pals. Because of the past, he cannot seem to get over having a doubt that people will turn on him, leave him behind. Trust issues keeps Mark quiet from exposing his past often - even to the buddies. He does not even have the confidence to be able to talk as a 'violent psycho'.

Outside is the obedient child; inside is the rebel. Passion - afraid of any violent tendencies - seems to have never come across to him. Mark has fancied (very much fancied indeed) ladies, though the heart is not set right. Getting too attached to people is one of his worst fears; after all, they, he thinks, could turn back on him and leave hurt behind, thus why he tries to be cool and - sometimes - act innocent in certain situations. Most times, Mark guesses in his head what the other person is feeling when they talk to him. In return, he attempts to ease their heads - for he has not given up hope in humanity just yet.

Greg and Laura Drills always had high expectations for their children. Both unsuccessful Careers from families that had just a little less than average the income, since they got married and planned children, they had promised each other to do whatever the situation took for their children to be successful - even if they were not reaped into the Hunger Games. Laura actually had the intention of having her children be happy when they grew up. (Not to mention, to bring some money back to Mom and Dad once in a while, too). As for Greg, he wanted the best, and he was willing to smack them around or anything to get them on top, above other kids. Such is the Career and Peacekeeper-producing family dream in District 2.

First among the children came Roger. As expected from the two, he was among the greats right from the start. Full of energy, cheery, and speedy, he - like Mark - tried to present himself as good-natured but powerful, a winner for the sponsors. Last child of three, Cassandra was extremely intelligent to make up for the lack of muscle, which the parents thought was perfect for the stereotypically physically-inferior of the genders. Not only to add, she was small enough to be quick on the fingers and stealthy. Cassie and Roger are their better individuals, and they could not be any more proud, even if they have to be harsh from time to time.

Mark, on the other hand, is where the family kept a cold eye on - if not sometimes a distant one. As a youth, he always tried his best, to please them; but, their expectations of 'best' was not his best. In their eyes, he was a slacker, someone mentally retarded compared to the rest. His grades, decent B's nearing to C's; his physical capability, lacking shine. None of his fingers were able to tinker equipment like Cassie, and he was no glorious star like Roger - in their eyes. To their promise, Greg and Laura were going to raise Mark to be the best. Simply because he was not born the best. Because he was not superior right form the start, they would have to make up for the incompetent parts of him through major discipline.

Much training went through for him, and Mark grew tired of the family not only wearing him down to the bone but sometimes not regard his existence. If he did anything wrong or something not considered 'his best', the family was allowed to gain up on him. In one account, Mark's cousin - while staying over at a cold aunt's house - had pushed him down the stairs to the cellar, and his uncle locked the door, punishing the boy after learning his progress report in P.E.

Inferior. Low. Inexcusable for a Drills' male.

Not even Mark's siblings did much as youths. They were much too occupied with their own training to pay attention to their brother; and, in return for being treated like trash, inside, Mark, too, grew cold, vacant, and unable to comprehend the world - but with no care. Punishments got to be worse; but, with his new defense mechanism of not investing trust and love to any family member, he was not as hurt, not as quick to be injured by such emotional bonds. Though friends should have been able to pull him out of the unemotional ditch, the main problem was that he had none, thanks to the family. Drills' elders would take care of the friends and acquaintances he would need, they would say; to concentrate on strengthening one's self instead of inputting time and effort into bonds would be fruitless to both parties. Even to secretly gain a buddy was ratted out, and met with a heartless ending.

When he was eight-years old, Laura had disappeared from Mark's life. He had looked on with little-to-no curiosity or care; and, even if he had asked, the boy felt that no one would tell him the reason or location his mother had vanished to. Nothing changed when she left. That was all that mattered to Mark. Only an increase in punishment severity upon her departure; but, otherwise, to Mark, the new situation was not 'new' in the same sense. In fact, his mother just did not seem to 'exist' ever.

Inside, he had given up on the dream of being 'best' and settled for being 'humble' or 'well' for his age. Eventually, his father had eased up on the scolding and beating up the young Mark's confidence in attempt to have the strive renewed upon seeing his son just did not care anymore. Mark had become like a workhorse: Slaving away but not having much of a personality outside of being downright angry. Though they had told him at a younger age that he would not have to worry about making friends or sponsors since they would do the bonds for him, five or six years later, not a person Greg met would be interested in investing in Mark Adelle Drills - mainly because he had no personality outside of being dull and angry. With what little prestige - a low man in the stone factory - Greg had, his son would be doing much worse, and no Drills was to be that inferior, even if Roger and Cassandra could make up for Mark's losses.

Though having the leash lengthen over time, the damage was done. Mark had difficulty making friends, and he clearly did not care to make any. Some peers would tease at him, and he would only ask why for such an action or say nothing. Among the whispers, they questioned if he really was supposed to be at school or be put into a special class. Nothing hardly mattered, but he still did work. Not like he had anything else to do, he would say.

Not long ago, he had somehow come across the group he knew today, a motley crew of smoke and colors. They, actually, opened him up a little, charming him with their wild ways and general aloof nature to the world - much like he did. Perhaps they cared about school, grades, thinking about getting a job, but he saw that - in some aspects - they did not care about many of the thing he did. Just by watching each of them, he grew to smile a little and affirm his hatred for the family inside.

Have himself a 'personality', like the old man wanted.

Behind the smokey veil is Landon Liboiron.
Waiting on tables and living with the family, hoping to escape the fate.
Money and a lighter is all he really needs - minus the drugs in the pockets.
His choice of glasses are as follows, and then sunglasses: 1 | 2 | sunglasses |

One cold tongue requires hot food to cool itself.
Even though there are no more surburbs in this country, there are still wars between ideas.