A sheltered, lonely child. Alphonse was born with a gift (or rather, a curse)- one that he couldn't and is still not able to understand. Dismissing this fact throughout almost the entirety of his life, he felt he had earned the right as a human being to be able to go out into the world and experience the presence of other people besides his own parents. He had grown tired of them spoon-feeding him from day one, and soon after began to seek refuge away from them.

Al had never completely understood the reason as to why his parents shut him away from the rest of the world, needless to say he had never appreciated them for depriving him of friends and playmates- simple things a child like him should have been allowed to have.

Consequently, Al had detested them. He hated the way they would leave him alone in the house with nothing but the TV to keep him company for a week. He loathed the way they would chase away the people or little kids that tried to talk to him- he was completely sick of the way they had pushed everyone away from him without his consent. After all, it was his choice to make, so why were they making them for him?

Another thing Alphonse hadn't grasped during his teenage years was that they had been trying to protect him all this time. Those people who tried to "befriend" their son? They had found out about the curse he was blessed with, so they came over to throw their insults and jabs. His parents understood, Al didn't. They knew secluding him from society would be the only way they could protect their son from harm, even if he ended up hating them.
Not so long after his 17th birthday, he was finally of legal age to move elsewhere. Alphonse took the chance and went straight for it- with no knowledge of what the world felt about creatures like him, he packed his bags and delved head-first into a chaotic shit-pool. None can say it was his fault, though. His parents were the one who'd chosen to keep this information from him.

Fast forward to 3 months later: Alphonse was stuck in a dank, cold chamber cell handcuffed to the wall. He had been given leeway to wash himself three times a week, had cold porridge (with extra salt on the side, courtesy of the cell wardens) and usually spent his nights curled up on the metal floors, crying himself to sleep.

His own actions had gotten him there, he understood. Normally a person would try to get out, but no. Alphonse took it personally and beat himself up frequently for ending up so ignorant. Soon enough, his self-pity turned into anger and that anger turned into something else.

One day a certain now-deceased cell warden had decided to poke his head in and pay a little visit to their beloved, abnormal captive. Al saw this as his golden chance- and snapped the unsuspecting warden's neck backwards. Luckily that day had been a good day, not many soldiers on duty as the prison he was being held captive at had been going through a recession; due to one of the staff resigning as a result of having one of his fingers bitten straight off by another captive. Al escaped, leaving a trail of bodies on his way as a sort-of parting present.

With his crammed studio having been directly above an elderly woman's- accompanied by three cats, he had grown accustomed to her frequent visits and viewed her as the supportive, friendly parental figure he's never had. Aunt Jima is what he called her, a stout old lady who'd taught him some manners and how to stand up straight. His positive qualities derive mainly from her. Al is eternally grateful for everything she'd done for him, even if to her it wasn't much. If it wasn't for her, Alphonse wouldn't be the kind, decent young man he is today.

i couldn't find a drawing corresponding completely, sorry. the realistic photo is more like him (mousey blond hair pushed back etc)

Rain was born to a poor single mother who both over-coddled and thrashed him about since a young age. Raised amongst other urchins and alley kids, he grew up rough-and-tumble, against his own quieter nature. He did not like being led and thus never joined the pseudo-gangs of his grammar school, making him seem like an easy target, but after a few fights the other boys learned that he was no coward and that he seldom had pocket money. They left him alone, some of them even befriending him, although he spent most of his early childhood helping out his mother with tending to strangers’ gardens. This left him very sensitive to nature – his favorite flower is the Mock Orange, and he is familiar with many botanical terms.

As he grew up into his early teens his mother was arrested for theft of one of her patrons’ silver axe. Whether or not she was rightfully convicted stays a mystery, but Rain is convinced that she wasn’t, and stayed vengeful towards the family. Ironically they legally took him in as an adopted son after the incident, and kept telling him how unfortunate he was to have such a fiend for a mother. Around the age of fourteen he finally joined a crew of teenagers he used to know: their playground pranks have become full-on extortion and burglary now. He was the youngest of the group, but he proved capable and his quiet steps were useful. Through great effort he became a well-respected member of his neighborhood’s adolescent crime community, so he didn’t have to bear being just another crony anymore. One day, after a mistakenly in-depth talk with his buddies about his hatred for his host family, an older boy gave him a vial and told him to abandon them for the streets and to be… very, very thorough about it. Under the pressure of familiar eyes staring at him, he accepted to attempt this. It did not go well, as he shook and did not gather the guts to complete the task. The patriarch decided to be nice and did not call the police on him, having forged a bond, but he can still feel the cold disappointed gaze of the scum who took his mother away from him as the man told him to go.

And then he went, with a scalding feeling in his stomach. He judged himself on his short walk out through the family’s gorgeous garden of vines and roses, staring at his footsteps, and he deemed himself weak. Rain’s entire body was suddenly animated with vague hatred that he couldn’t distinguish the target of. In his late teens he read books and learnt as much as he could from his few friends still in school, then trained his strength, agility and endurance purely by becoming the de facto leader of his band of friends, organizing petty yet lucrative crime. He was hardworking, and he had a tough shell, but in his scalding stomach he still felt weak, and maybe he is. At the end he only organized illegal poker and raked in the income, mugged old ladies in the night, stole watches, intimidated the young who couldn’t do anything about it – it’s not like he ever poured that vial.

With his professional delinquency he stayed in multiple hotels usually a few months at a time, but he never received courier. On the day he did, he was alarmed, paranoid, and hesitated to read the contents of it. Rainier Mendoza, his name, written in fancy italics – and what the letter said was so improbable the first thing he thought of was danger. Or a joke. But after a few letters were sent to him consecutively Rain started taking things seriously in a different way, and he asked around about the academy. The information intrigued him, and so he decided to come just to see, alert and a bit fidgety at the gate. What if this was just all a ploy to hurt him, or even worse, to embarrass him? With dignified strides he stepped through the gates full of doubt. Lucky for him, and a bit shockingly, it was the real deal.

The following assesment was written by -REDACTED- for Nellia O'Dell as requested by -REDACTED-, the girl's -REDACTED- according to her mother, -REDACTED-.

In my 25-year long career, not once have I encountered such a weird case as this one. The subject, Nellia O'Dell, 15, could be described as the average depressed teen who resorted to drugs in order to deal with the power of her emotions and honestly that would be it. But the girl has not even once tasted the power of narcotics and spent most of her childhood in seclusion with the only one to communicate with being her mentally ill mother. Therefore, social issues should be running rampant yet that is not what makes Ms. O'Dell a danger to everyone around her and mostly to herself. I spent with her a total of 126 hours during which I got to know her better and somewhat understand the way she functions.

Nellia's mind is her greatest advantage over the rest of the world. She has shown signs of genius level intelligence, from her proven ability when it comes to games based on logic rather than luck like chess to her drawing skill which could potentially place her among the likes of Van Gogh and Picasso if only she wished so. She could be perhaps described as the harbinger of tomorrow, a child which is a prime example of what humanity still has to offer in terms of evolution as a race.

Yet, that very mind of hers is also an unprecedented horror, a time bomb. Her aloof demeanor and eccentric persona often make you underestimate her something which I can not be certain that isn't what she's after her. She is smarter than me and most of the world yet that intelligence comes along with a sadistic side, a passionate love of pure chaos and entropy, a certain lack of mercy and what each of us would consider humane, a side which takes over whenever Nellia finds herself too stressed or scared or angered to handle on her own and grants total control to perhaps a different person entirely, going by the name -REDACTED-. Many of her paintings have a certain dark form hidden in them, a body without any characteristics other than the colorful hair and am almost certain that she doesn't paint it because she wants too but because her very soul has been a battlefield since she realized her potential.

In other words, Nellia's personality could be compared to a fixed coin toss. Nine out of ten times you will get what you expect, the weird and wonderful Nellia O'Dell. But sometimes, due to the tiniest of details you get the other side, the side which has remained dormant for years upon years yet always awake, always watching for a chance to be unleashed, the side known as -REDACTED-.

My conclusion, my terrible and truly maddening conclusion, is that Nellia O'Dell should be kept away from the world or even better, killed. I consider her incapable of ever taming her brilliance and I find myself afraid of what might happen the day she wakes up and -REDACTED- has control. She was not meant to happen in our world, not yet at least.

Dr. -REDACTED-

*Note: Dr.-REDACTED- was reported missing around the same time the girl disappeared too, considering their relationship and knowing that he was guilt-ridden over his report and the decision to perform lobotomy on the subject it is possible that he had something to do with her escape.

**Note: Dr.-REDACTED- was found dead and according to the autopsy, had been dead for quite a while. He had been missing both his eyes which had been replaced by -REDACTED- and his lips had been sewn shut. Cause of death was -REDACTED-.