Mabel Omyra Shrink // D3 [FIN]

Genetics had bestowed her many opportunists, like both of her sisters, of absolute flawless appearance, such as naturally large eyes and hair so red it made tomatoes jealous. Of course, they had not received everything for their full potential, Mabel seemingly drew almost all the right genes. The eyes resting in her face large, such in the way of a baseball, which made her look innocent enough to be almost threatening. Lashes rooting from each angle and branching off long enough to catch rain and sweat, and curling at the tips like the way fancy cup handles do. Also branching off enough to catch sweat and rain was the threads of daring crimson hair, but frizzing uncontrollably no matter the effort her and her stampede of family attempt to have it lay flat.

Laying flat was her stomach however, because fitting into smaller clothes was key and appearing so thin that she is almost unhealthy seemed to be a plus in the eyes of her and the critics she lived for but did not have. Unlike the women she modelizes in the magazines, she was not seven feet tall, or at least tall enough to touch the topmost section of the doorway. She was short, but to compensate, she threw on heels, high heels, the higher the better. Besides looking like a scarecrow on stilts, the way her eyes illuminated her rather large lips was somewhat enchanting. Except it pointed out the way her pale skin also made her look like an unproportionate doll.

But she dreamed to be a doll, to have people idolizing her looks like the way she dreams about looking as the ladies in the pages sent from the Capitol. Fabulous. She dreamed of being in the stars, among the stars, and being famous, and having envy and jealousy. Mostly because that was what she felt like, and wanted others to feel how she felt about others. With each stretch of artificial lip colouring and fake pair of contacts came the lust of having other people marvel at her, without her doing much in front of them. (Although, it was a hell of a job applying the different variates of make-ups and such beforehand.)

Being on the bottom end of the totem pole sucked and was an odd feeling, considering how she managed to excel at almost anything her younger sister, Vivian, attempted to do. It helped to withhold some of that jealousy and competitiveness in to know that somebody would always be there to be worse than her. Vivian was smarter than Mabel, in the book smart kind of way, but Mabel knew where her weaknesses were, and that Vivian would never be willing to strap herself into a dress two sizes too small just to make her breasts look "great."

Oh, but she never forgot to remind Vivian this. That Vivian would always live in her footsteps, because Mabel had to teach a bitch where she belonged. The way of sweeping up the matter though, was not by just straight up mentioning how Vivian was dressing like she crawled through a trash can and happened to find her a new outfit, no it was more diabolic. More of the type of work to go through stages, like to go out of her own way in order to place her appearance higher and go for certificates to prove it. "Not rub it in her face" prove it, but mention how she, Mabel had been winner, hands-down, of the District 3, All-Female, beauty pageant, beating out fierce competitors that had even been considered Capitol Level.

Although, to clarify, Mabel does not hate her sister, nor complete ignore her other, Freyda. She just merely appreciated being appreciated more than the both of them. As a child, Mabel had always been giving ribbons and certificates on how ingenious her doo-ma-jig and doo-ma-hicky had been, and praised over and over again on how well she was doing. Her parents loved her more, and it was obvious, because Mabel had not done much of anything amazing and Freyda seemed to just be there the most of the time. What was the point of Mabel being the eldest if she was not going to get any attention anyways?

Attention found Mabel soon enough however, mostly because she dragged it by the ears over to her. As a child, she had been known as an ugly duckling, buck teeth, same large eyes (except more unproportional), shaggy unkept hair and certainly no breasts at all. During maturing, she had definitely evolved into some sort of other creature, having mostly everything on her face grow back in proportion, and the glares of most boys in her year, and some in others, following her almost every step. It was embarrassing to an extent for her, but she still loved every second of it, because the attention drive she held out for had finally becoming fed.

She took note of the fact of how Vivian, mother's favorite, had not grown into her body through the horrendous thing called puberty, but Mabel had, in fact. Finally, after years of losing her ground to some younger peasant, she had been queen again of her tiny kingdom that could only grow. Of course, Vivian is still labeled as "unpleasant" to the eyes, but at least she is not as loathed to Mabel now. Because now Mabel had her own track to play along to, some wide art field called beauty, and if Vivian could earn her awards for creating tiny machines and trinkets without much effort, she could certainly do the same.