A living imprint
Ink is a Ratkin manifestation with an unknown origin: a living imprint rather than a person with an ordinary birth record. His body is semi-solid ink, able to extend and draw itself back into shape. He does not age in the usual way. Under pressure, his form tends toward greater control rather than coming apart.
A black, featureless face holds two tall white oval eyes. Rat ears rise through spiked hair beneath a jagged, uneven crown. A high collar and an ink-soaked cloak make his silhouette, with controlled drips and a thin, hairless rat tail. His expression comes through his stance, the angle of the crown, the collar, and the movement of the ink. The face does not need a mouth to make impatience legible.
How he works
Ink moves deliberately, sometimes with a slight settling delay as his form follows the motion. He observes, writes things down, and tries to distinguish a useful lead from an exciting mistake. His perception is strong, not unlimited. He can be wrong, and a carefully labeled object can still be something he does not understand.
With Rot, that patience becomes practical rather than solemn. Someone has to remember the equipment, retain the witness’s actual wording, and notice when curiosity has become an exit problem. Ink is usually doing those things while Rot is already testing the next door.
