Name: Gretchen Pranvere
Age: 16
Gender: Female

Power: Slime Physiology
Personality: A very self-centered sort of person, stubborn and reluctant to accept help. She does like talking to people, especially when traveling since, though she could care less about their lives, it beats riding in awkward silence. Not to mention at least some of the stories she hears are interesting. Really, her life objective at the moment is simply to stave off boredom for as long as she can.
Likes: Traveling, swimming, sleeping outdoors and non-boring people.
Dislikes: Sitting still, doing the same thing over and over again, being forced to follow rules, and bad food.
History: Gretchen was raised somewhere in Southern California, to a pair of overly stiff parents. Said parents were also either in business or sales, (She never found out which), and were hence rarely actually home. So, she ends up having to take care of herself more often than not. In the first year of highschool, she joined the school swim team, nearly drowned, stabbed a student (Or so it was rumoured, she was never actually caught), and got fairly terrible grades, much to her parents total lack of reaction. She had become remarkably unpopular, and without much reason to stay in school save for the swim team.

So she dropped out when she was 15, and left home while her parents were away on business. By the time they noticed, she was already in completely different state. She really only arrived at Pavar about a year after that, and only a few weeks after discovering her powers.

Awakening:
There was a knocking on the door to the stall. "Miss, are you alright?" A female voice, probably some old grannie.
"Yeah, no, I'm like, perfect here," replied Gretchen, before promptly throwing up into the toilet some more. "I've never felt better in my entire life, thank you so very much for asking."
The person on the other side stayed quiet for a moment, surely taking the time to appreciate her biting sarcasm. Gretchens body was starting to go limp and shaky, the throbbing headache and nausea wasn't helping in the slightest. Maybe eating out of dumpsters was starting to take it's toll on her.
"Well, you don't sound so good, dear, and you've been in there for quite a while," said the grannie, whose sole purpose in life was now to nag Gretchen and make an already annoying day even more obnoxious. "Would you like me to call an ambulance for you?"
"No, fuck off lady, I don't need any help in throwing up my lungs." She heard the woman step away, and shut the door outside.

Like any bad day, the memory of how it started was fairly well etched into her mind, not that it made any sense. She remembered walking into the local convenience store/gas station, thankfully open at 4 am. When it came time to actually buy anything, the clerk was kind enough to point out that her hand was dripping all over the place, leaving bits of skin and whatnot all over the counter. Rather than answer his very direct "Do you have a skin condition, madam?", she just paid and left post-haste for the bathroom. As it happened, her hands and arms and face were literally oozing, like a wax figure in an oven.

That was what, an hour ago? God, to think this day was just getting started. Gretchen then proceeded to black out on the bathroom floor.

She came around sometime later to find herself completely recovered, though thirsty, and left just as fast as she came. As she thought about what happened, she realized it couldn't have been a dream, or any sort of hallucination. She felt lighter too, more flexible, like someone had taken a huge weight off her.

Whatever it was, she figured she'd have time to figure it out later, and she hitched a ride to the next town.