[CHAR] The Unwanted. Superpowered RP with a hint of horror.

[Subject Zero]

Nathan James Hunter

Nathan James Hunter

---

---

---

---

Name: Nathan James Hunter

Gender: Male

Age: 25

Place of Birth:

Originally from Los Angeles, Nathan has been all over the world. He goes wherever the security firm he works for sends him and he is currently in Buckhead, working as a bodyguard for a wealthy client.

Sexuality:

Nate identifies as heterosexual but he's not entirely against the idea of being in a relationship with a man. He just hasn't found one he's interested in that way.

Relationship Status:

Single but there's no shortage of women in his life. He's just not one for committed relationships.

Occupation:

Bodyguard.

Power:

Self Duplication – Nate can make exact physical copies of himself. These duplicates are aware that they're not real but retain a certain amount of autonomy. They are compelled to follow orders from the original but how they go about this is entirely up to them. Duplicates generally think, act and feel exactly like the original but occasionally one will display a different personality. This is rare however. There's no hive mind between Nate and the duplicates but, when they are reabsorbed, he gains all of their memories and knowledge learned since their creation. Nate can comfortably make up to ten duplicates (although usually only creates three or four) but is capable of making far more. The problem is that after around ten, the duplicates become progressively less intelligent, less reliable and potentially even dangerous. Each duplicate is capable of making another duplicate but the rule of ten still applies. Any more than ten duplicates in the world, regardless of who created them, and they become gradually less intelligent. If a duplicate is ever knocked unconscious or killed, they aren't immediately reabsorbed into the original. Nate has to be within a certain distance to call back his duplicates and the further they travel away, the weaker their empathic connection with the original becomes.

Cost of powers use:

The cost of Nate's powers comes in the form of his slow but gradual decent into insanity. Nate will eventually become less stable as a result of splitting his mind over and over again. Nate redefines split-personality and it's not entirely impossible that one of those rare but distinctive other personalities may take hold of the original.

---

---

---

---

Appearance:

With blonde hair, green eyes and a flawless complexion, Nate is a very good looking young man. He stands at about 6ft tall with a body that has been toned by years of military training. His hair is light and when not cropped close to his head, a rare occurrence, it tends to form loose curls. Nate is always clean shaven and well presented. His style of dress tends to be smart casual when not working but when he is working, he usually sports a suit.

Skills:

• Strength and Athleticism - With years of military training, Nate is a very physically capable individual. He is well conditioned and able to run, jump, climb etc. far better than a civilian. He can fight with the best of them and is trained in a number of different styles.
• Mechanics and hacking – Nate has always had an affinity for machines in whatever form they take. He's hardly the most intelligent person ever but he can repair an engine and break into a someone's computer with surprising ease.
• Battlefield medicine – Nate comes from an entire family of doctors so he's learned a thing or two. He put this knowledge to good use in the military where he was a trained field medic. He's no doctor but he knows how to stitch up a wound.
• Piloting - A skill he learned while seeking thrills. He's probably not the safest pilot but he hasn't crashed a plane...yet.

Personality:

Nate, at first glance, seems like the average jock. He can come across as obnoxious and loud. He's not afraid to say what's on his mind and frequently does just that to the point of being rude. But he is surprisingly intelligent and tends to plot and plan just about everything unless he's in the thick of the action in which case he generally goes with his gut. Actually thinking under pressure is not something he does. He just reacts unless he has time to stand back and take things in. He has an alarming tendency to find dangerous situations and he couldn't be more thrilled about that. Nate lives for excitement and adventure and if it doesn't come his way, he'll actively go out and find it. There is generally always a smile (or at least a smirk) plastered on Nate's face, even if he's feeling terrible inside. He's a joker and always has some smart ass comment about everything. Despite his tendency to be an ass, Nate can also be a very caring person to those he considers a friend or, to a lesser extent, those he sees as just generally good people. He doesn't meet a lot of those people though.

History:

Nathan lived a pretty normal and predictable early life. High school football star, homecoming king, relatively decent grades. But then he joined the military and normal and predictable went out the window. His mother, father, brother and sister were all doctors and everyone expected Nathan to follow in their footsteps. Nathan had other ideas. He wanted action and excitement. He got plenty of that. After basic training, Nate found his way into a special operations team where he was the youngest member but he quickly earned a reputation as a capable and talented operative. Nate was sent to multiple parts of the world. Iraq, Afghanistan, Detroit, Somalia. It seemed like everywhere their was danger, Nathan James Hunter would show up. And he loved every minute of it. The excitement, the danger. Living by the skin of your teeth. Nate loved it and then he [REDACTED] and was drummed out of the military.

It was all over.

The excitement, the adventure, the foreign women with the massive bazongas. It was all gone. And Nate was lost. What was he supposed to do now? All that training and living life on the edge. And now there was none of it. Nate spent some time travelling on his own, seeking out adventure. He learned how to fly a plane and how to fall out of that plane without dying. He used his considerable fighting skills as a professional fighter. He even tried his hand at bounty hunting for a time until he fell into his current profession of bodyguard. He literally fell into it. But that's a story for another time.

Joining a security firm, Nate found himself being hired out to various clients to protect them. It was a line of work he proved talented at and he stuck with it longer than anything since leaving the military. Some of the gigs can be boring and there's a lot of charity functions like the one he currently finds himself attending in Buckhead but people don't generally hire bodyguards unless there's at least some threat of danger. And if Nate's around, that danger will probably find him.

He wouldn't have it any other way.

---

---

---

---

[Shoe Thief]

Name: Eric Miller

Gender: Male

Age: 21

Place of Birth:
Eric was born in Florida, but at a young age his family moved into Harlan Where Eric had relatives his family would stay with as they got back on their feet financially.

Sexuality:
Bisexual.

Relationship Status:
Eric knows of most people in Harlan, but between living on a property that is set at a decent distance from town and his poor ability to put names to faces it's hard to actually tell he does know who most people are.

Occupation:
Self made Carpenter. Selling anything wood made from tables, cabinets, rifle stocks, to small toys.

Power:
Eric has the ability to technically hear people's thoughts. He doesn't hear the thoughts as the voices of the people who have them due to peoples accents and languages. But he can definitely get a clear idea of how many people are around him when he is focused. When he is really focused he could potentially even tell what some of the thoughts are saying.

Cost of powers use:
The cost is he can never get his ability to stop. He hears thoughts like everyone else hears the environment around them. Even if he had lost hearing all together he would still be able to hear what people were thinking. Only when he is focused and not under heavy pressure can he actually understand what some, if any of the thoughts are. Though most the time he just tries to shut them up.

Appearance:
Eric stands just a couple inches under six foot, with an average build to him. With pale skin from being indoors avoiding people all the time, his dark hair sticks out, especially when he lets it grow out. He'll wear goggles over his brown eyes at many points to help block out his vision so he can focus more on what he is hear.

His average wear consist of jeans, a T-shirt, and if he plans on being out for long periods of time a jacket with an ample supply of pockets.

Skills:
Carpentry: He makes a living out of it, in the house he lives in currently (Or large shed depending how you look at it) he had made most all of the furniture inside. With all the work he does he is able to pay for lights, food, and for the small plot of land his tool she-- House is on.

Long guns: Eric grew up around guns, he has a basic understanding of how to handle shotguns and precision rifles. Despite the fact he isn't a professional marksmen he is still a decent shot. Though his experience with handguns consist of Airsoft and once at the shooting range with his Uncle's .38 revolver.

Basic Mechanics: He can't fix a car up from scratch, but he can do a pretty good job at keeping something running for as long as mechanically possible. This also is a huge part for trying to make sure he does everything on his own.

Electrical workings: Eric has a decent amount of skill in residential electrical engineering. Not only wiring the place he lives in now, but has made it so many components in his home are powered by a bicycle hooks up to a battery array (Of three batteries).

Tracking and wilderness survival: Growing up with his uncle around a lot he learned a lot about shooting, fishing, hunting, trapping, and how to not die while stuck in the woods. He rarely uses wilderness survival, but he figures it would be good for long term camping. Or if he had to leave in a hurry.

Personality:
Eric likes to view himself as an independent person. He hates asking for help, especially when he believes there is a way he can do it himself. But despite this he is over all a caring person, he would gladly break his code if he was helping someone else (Which in a technical sense would make him a hypocrite but who's checking).

Eric is a smart ass, he will purposefully be literal with people to get a cheap laugh, and will point out obvious things to annoy people. It's one way he likes to keep amused, and distracted.

He isn't super smart though outside of his engineering fields. Along with being a smart ass, he is a bit of a dumb ass too. SO combine them together, you get just a simple ass.

Despite the fact that he tries to avoid people it's hard when he is dependent on making a living off selling things to said people. And despite the fact that he is a more or less caring person and is fairly polite (Expect for the smartassness) he gets very awkward around people he doesn't know, or people who he thinks are up to something.

History:

Eric was born near Daytona Florida until he was eight years old, and his parents had lost their jobs. After that point his Uncle Felix had offered his family a place to stay on his farm. Despite the fact that he wasn't in a much better financial state, he had land and his property was paid off. He ended up living in a camper with his parents working on his uncle's farm while his parents went around doing what ever they could to earn money.

When he turned 16 he started working at any place that would hire him, making minimum wage with minimal hours. After four years of savings he purchased a small property, put a large shed on it, and started a small business selling odds and ends mostly made of wood. While reusing what seems to be everything so prevent having to buy things as much as possible, he is able to live a more or less comfortable life. Despite the saw dust always on his bed when he finally does sleep.

As a parting gift his Uncle gave him an old pickup truck that was... well loves is a good word. Well loved and salvaged for scraps. It took months of work but he was eventually able to get it running so he could work his business better then ever.

[Xandrya]

Jennifer

Name: Jennifer "JJ" Jureau

Gender: Female

Age: 25

Place of Birth: New York City

Sexuality: Heterosexual, although she won't discriminate on any given night if the opportunity arises.

Relationship Status: Single

Occupation: Real estate

Power: Healing

Cost of power's use: Even though JJ can heal anyone with a simple touch, she herself will slowly absorb whatever wound or illness that person has suffered. The longer she holds on, the more severe the affliction.

Appearance: JJ stands at about 5'7, with naturally tanned skin and brown eyes. She has dark brown hair that's naturally curly but most of the time she will keep it straight for a neater appearance. She has no major scars or tattoos.



Skills: Good at both sprinting and long-distance running. She also has some self defence skills which she learned during her teenage years.

Personality: JJ is a bit of a hot head. She has a condition known as Adjustment Disorder and her mood shifts rather quickly, sometimes leading her to blow a situation out of proportion. She is impatient and often blames everyone but herself for whatever misfortune comes her way, finding excuses where there should be none. JJ despises liars, and she often treats such people with no respect at all.

On the flip side, she is for the most part a rational and fair individual and will always favor whatever side she believes is right, despite of personal differences.

History: JJ's birth name is Jennifer Marie LaCosta, although family issues prompted her mother to take sole custody of JJ and change her name in the process. For a few years, JJ was raised in a single-parent household on the bad side of town. Many different experiences made JJ realize what the real world was like, and the older she grew, the wiser she became. When JJ was 14, her mother, Nancy, married some real estate millionaire named Richard after only a few weeks of dating. In a matter of days they moved to Buckhead, and as far as JJ could tell, they were a match made to last. Unfortunately, 6 months into the marriage, Richard began to make passes as JJ. Even though JJ would complain to just about any adult she came into contact with, no one ever believed her because she was just some "bratty rich kid seeking attention". Richard's comments soon became action, and it was only a matter of time before JJ ran away from home to get away from it all.

A couple of years of court cases, media coverage, and public opinions tore the family in half. Although Richard was a smart man, one slip up was all the evidence the prosecution needed to put him behind bars. Nancy inherited the mansion and had the business Richard left behind undergo a complete makeover,. Unfortunately, the damage was already done. JJ was forever scarred and to any stranger on the street, she would appear to be another woman with a sour attitude who was out for revenge. For some time, JJ found happiness as she was introduced to a world famous psychologist and his therapy was finally the answer she was so desperately seeking for many years. She found a boyfriend, moved to high-rise in downtown, helped her mother with the business, and was even trying to have a family of her own. Her happiness didn't last though. One rainy December evening claimed Nancy's life after she was involved in an accident. It was then JJ's world shattered all over again. She abandoned just about everything good in her life and went back to her old ways. Although she barely kept the business afloat with the help of a senior employee, her alcohol and drugs frenzy made it very hard for her to focus. She now attends more parties and gatherings than business meetings, and some have speculated one of these days JJ will crash and burn.

[Thundercrash]

Name: Christabelle Sammi Raines, aka Christi

Gender: female

Age: 17

Place of Birth: Harlan

Sexuality:
Heavily closeted bisexual, to the point of being in denial

Relationship Status:
Single

Occupation:
Unemployed

Power:
Sensory manipulation: Christi is able to manipulate other people’s sensory perception, everything from the traditional five to lesser known senses such as balance, temperature, kinesthetic, pain and time. She can reduce or amplify these senses, or outright take them away.

Power cost:
Consciously taking control of another person’s senses requires a fair amount of concentration; attempting to control more than one person at once can cause her serious pain. She also experiences everything that she inflicts on others.

There is also a social cost; even among the other Unwanted, people who know about her power tend to be very wary of her, since they can’t be sure if they can trust their own senses around her. This extends to herself; since she experiences everything she does, it can be hard for her to distinguish between what is real and what is not.

Appearance:
Christi is of average height with a slim, slightly muscular build. Her blue eyes are very bright, and her brown hair is just under ear length. Her arms and the back of her neck are slightly tanned from all the time she spends outside, while the rest of her is paler. Freckles dust across her nose, and she has a faint scar running from her left eyebrow to her hairline. She also has a few scars on the thumb, index and middle fingers of her right hand.

She tends to wear baggy, warm clothing and hiking boots, particularly in layers when she goes hunting.

Skills:
-Used to hunting with her family, Christi has all the skills necessary to survive in the wilderness, from tracking, trapping and shooting game, fishing, navigating and camping, a working knowledge of a wide variety of wild plants and their effects, as well as skinning and gutting prey.

-She’s a very good shot with her crossbow, and is skilled at maintaining it.

-Christi has basic first aid training. She may not be certified, but odds are she can keep you from dying at least in the short term

-Used to spending large amounts of time outdoors, Christi has great stamina and is very physically fit. She also has impressive arm and upper body strength from cocking her crossbow.

-She spends a great deal of time whittling, and as such is very skilled at creating many different items, carvings and tools.

Personality:
Christi has a lot deep self-esteem issues, all of which stem from her home life. Very insecure and easily frightened, her people skills are very poor. She tends not to understand things like sarcasm, tends to think that most jokes are at her expense, and it doesn’t take much to cause her to retreat into herself. Whenever people come near her or try to touch her, she will reflexively flinch, as though she expects to be hit.

Underneath her fear and uncertainty, she is still naturally quiet and nurturing, and it has been thought that she could be quite beautiful when she smiles. Spending most of her life hunting has trained her to be patient, observant, and focused. Unfortunately, she also has a massive streak of self-loathing, particularly regarding her sexuality.

History:
Almost since the day her mother died giving birth to her, Christi has believed the entire world hated her. This belief was only reinforced by growing up with a survivalist father who steadily descended into abusive alcoholism and an increasingly spiteful older brother who blamed her for taking away his mother.

Living up in the woods made her isolated even for those living in Harlan County. When her brother and her went into town for supplies she would often catch people looking at her, and she wasn’t unaware of the whispers going on when people thought she wasn’t looking. From what she had pieced together, her mother had been a well-loved member of the community, leading her to believe that, much like her brother, the town thought that her death was her fault. In fact, there were only two people in the world who ever made Christi feel valued at all: the family dog Jack, and a pretty young girl named Tillie Helton.

As she got older, life got more complicated. The generally homophobic atmosphere of Harlan County meant that Christi’s blossoming crush on Tillie was a problem, which when combined with her other issues led her to believe that she was broken. In a desperate attempt to “fix” herself, Christi formed a relationship with a local boy named Charley Hollins. All this left her with was a broken heart and a destroyed reputation, as her so-called “lover” proceeded to brag to just about everyone how easy she was.

Tillie’s murder destroyed Christi. In a moment, the single bright spot in her life was gone.

[Rawk]

Name: Vincent “Vin” TreVayne

Gender: M

Age: 35

Place of Birth: Seattle, WA

Sexuality: Hetero

Relationship Status: Vin was engaged to a girl he’d been together with since his late teens, and through unforeseen circumstances, the relationship ended.

Occupation: Co-partner of several tattoo shops along the East Coast of the United States, mostly located in upscale areas, Buckhead being one of them.

Skills: A vast background in traditional art, with a focus on tattooing and the use of various inks and their properties.

Power & Drawbacks

Power: Tattoo & Body Art Manipulation

Essentially, a telepathic ability that allows him a certain degree of control over the ink used for the tattoos, thereby giving “life” to an otherwise static image on his (or a chosen target’s) skin. His ability is most potent when used on his own tattoos, allowing him to lift the imagery from the skin, solidifying it, and giving it a brief independance from the host body. (i.e. A crow tattoo on his chest can “peel” away, transform into solid mass, and fly around).

Natural tattooing inks created by plant dyes, animal minerals, salts and various other natural sources, etc work the best. Synthetic inks are generally weaker.

As a defensive mechanism, if threatened, the tattoo ink will protect itself (and the host), adapting and shielding Vin from physical attacks for a limited amount of time.

Areas that are covered in tattoos also have the potential to heal much quicker, as the artwork essentially “repairs” the affected area. The more severe the wound, the longer time it takes to completely heal and the more mental exhaustion is incurred.

Cost of Power Use: Causes varying degrees of mental fatigue & migraines, and the longer it is sustained, the more lethargic he can become, to the point of unconsciousness if not careful. There are instances where the power, if not kept in check, could lash out violently toward others or the host himself as it begins to take on a life of it's own...

Appearance: Vin stands about 6’1, tall and lean. He generally keeps a closely trimmed beard or clean shaven face, and a neatly comb head of thick dark auburn hair. His wardrobe tends to lean toward a “chic rocker” fashion in blacks & grays, more so to impress the higher-end clientele. His arms, chest and back are covered in various tattoos of fantastical venomous creatures, tribal & gothic patterns, life, death, and various symbols that only he may know anything about.

Character image

Personality: Vin comes off as relatively light-hearted and easygoing, and yet can easily be identified as borderline narcissistic due to the fact that he seems to “know everything about everything” and holds nobody else but himself in high regard, which can reflect in his close professional and personal relationships. He is inherently stubborn and critical about a great many things, especially related to artwork, and his intense focus can be misinterpreted as being “socially disconnected” when in the middle of a project as he doesn't tolerate distractions very well.

Generally, however, he’s a guy that goes along to get along, and enjoys to socialize in circles where there may be an opportunity for gain or pleasure. As an artist himself, he loves art, especially body art, which he’ll gladly discuss with anyone who will listen to his incessant ramblings which inevitably circle around to him talking about himself.

History

History: As “deceptive appearances” go, Vin had always managed to keep his life running against the grain as much as possible, turning his nose to rules and regulations that seemed to only work for everyone else but him. Although he’d never let on that he had an ounce of the proverbial anarchist in him. Growing up in Seattle during the late eighties, early nineties, he found himself in the midst of the grunge scene, which influenced not only his outlook on life and society, but his love for various rock music and art. His family life was rather eventless (some would even say “normal”); both parents got along, worked hard at their respective blue-collar jobs, and generally made a bearable life in the Lower Queen Anne area of the city. As most good parents did, they both encouraged their son to do something meaningful with his life...

Of course, "meaningful", was a matter of interpretation.

Vin loved the city, especially the underground scenes, and most of his time was spent running with his wayward friends, getting into the seediest dumps to see their favorite bands play or hanging with the best local street artists, painters, and tattoo kings that Seattle had to offer. As his artistic talents flourished, he also reaped the rewards of diligence and hard work. He eventually turned his focus on tattooing, which it seemed everyone was willing to pay good money for, no matter their social status. At seventeen, he’d saved enough from various art jobs to share rent on an apartment in the downtown area, closer to where the action and the money was. Vin was a dreamer, and he wanted to keep the film rolling as long as possible. He'd met, for the first time, a girl he could really see sharing his already chaotic life. A girl who shared many of his own passions and aspirations, which gave Vin the feeling that he could really control the relationship and all its variables.

Funny thing how our own interpretations sharply contrast the harsh reality of things...

Years passed quickly as they would for those living a life that seemed to be an endless party. But for Vin, the fun hit rock bottom when his soon-to-be wife had decided to lavish herself in the lifestyle of another man. A man who seemingly had his shit together and gave her the world. The blowback became a stain that stuck in the forefront of Vin’s mind, degrading his outlook of a future he hoped would have been shaped by his own hands. The solid relationship he once had with his parents began to suffer as he spiraled downward and pushed away a lot of people in the process. He eventually made it to a point where was ready to move on, to leave his old life and hopefully never return until he felt ready to return.

And he’d found the perfect way out...

Vincent reached out to James, an old friend who’d moved to the east coast to start up a chain of tattoo and body art shops mainly located in upscale areas. James knew the business, and even the rich enjoyed the opportunity to leave a lasting mark, whether it was social prestige or simply ink on their body, he’d gladly offer it all. Vin, confident in knowing that his artwork would be a great addition to his friend's business, didn't hesitate to take advantage of becoming a co-partner, quickly moving from his hometown of Seattle to a hi-rise apartment in the heart of Atlanta, Georgia.

[AcerRo]

Sheet

Elijah Craigh

---

---

---

---

Name: Elijah Craigh

Gender: Male

Age: 29

Place of Birth: Harlan County, Kentucky. Thanks to his military career he's more than his fair share of places in the world. Too bad he didn't get do much more than work.

Sexuality: Hetrosexual

Relationship Status: Single

Occupation: Coal Miner.

Power:
Elijah has the ability to control any fire within his immediate range of vision, causing it to increase or decrease in intensity or to move in a pattern directed by his thoughts. He can also engulf parts of his body and certain objects in fire. Wherever there is blood, there can and will be fire

Cost of powers use:
Elijah's powers has two drawbacks, two prices to pay. The main cost of his powers is blood. Preferably human blood, the purer and cleaner the better. Animal blood is useful and effective but it's not no the same level as human blood. The next limit is the fire itself. Regardless of how powerful or strong the flame is, he still needs an oxygen source.

When it comes to blood, Eli can somehow or another sense it. Even the smallest drop he becomes like shark in the water wanting it more and more.

Appearance: Elijah is a ruggedly handsome man standing a hair over five foot eleven inches. Coming in at a somewhat large two hundred pounds with an athletic build, his body shows years of abuse and combat. Some of the abuse was self inflicted with alcohol, but most of it was brought on by other, very angry people with knives and guns.

Preferring jeans and boots over nicer clothing. He does however tend to favor long sleeve shirts. His style of dress matches well with ruggedly handsome face. Adorned with brown hair and blue. Eli always seems like he has a five o'clock shadow. There is a hint of unkempt wildman about him.

Skills: Through years of hard work, a little stupidity and a tiny bit of help from military. Elijah has cultivate a massive skill set in hand to hand combat, and small arms combat. His close to mid range marksmanship skills are top notch, though he leaves a little something to be desired in long range shooting. He is a decent medic and highly skilled in hunting and survival.

Special Recon, combat search and rescue, and tracking where his speciality while in the military. This give him a very unique but hard to use skill set.

Personality: Eli is kinda an asshole. There isn't much of a filter on him and has a distaste for people who feel entitled to power or respect. With Eli, everything is earned if you can earn your keep then outside of a few scathing comments you're not likely to have many issues with him.

He has a habit of talking when he shouldn't be and not talking when should. This habit more or less stems from never taking anything too seriously. A redneck to his core, he enjoys a good fight and long draws on the bottle and oddly enough singing. He is far from the best of singers but it something that he learned during his time in combat. Even in the harshest of conditions a well timed song or joke can change everything.

Since his unit was killed in combat he's been more than a bit of a loner.

History: There are only a handful of ways out of a place like Harlan county. The fastest and the easiest way out was the military. Elijah could never understand why more people didn't take that route. He did everything he could to get out of Harlan, he enlisted the moment he could and never looked back. On his 18th birthday Eli shipped out to the Air Force. It wasn't his first choice, he intended into the Marines. It wasn't until an Air Force recruiter took him a strip club and got him drunk that he thought about it. He signed on the dotted line one the second trip.

His time was in the Air Force was nothing less than a huge culture shock. The amount of people, the lack of trees and hills. The amount of money was the most the shocking. ELi never knew how hard life in the mountains were till he went to basic. It was such a softer world, one filled with concrete, cars, people and new fancy things. Once he adjusted to this new life, he did better than anyone could have hoped for.

It didn't take long for the higher ups to notice him. He was quickly promised a life full of excitement, jumping out of planes, blowing shit up, shooting anything that walks and he got paid for it? What more could a hillbilly ask for? Things went perfect for the most part. A hiccup here and there, a girl here and there. He was even married for a few years. He loved every second of it.

It wasn't until things went south on an operation that he gave a thought about getting out. He had nine years of successful missions had gone out the window when some very bad intelligence made sure that he would be the only one carried out of the mission area, for the most part. No one would tell him what exactly went so wrong or how they go such bad intell, but they fought down to the last man last. When everything was said and done Elijah was airlifted to a field hospital, hanging on for dear life. He still has the three bullets that got pulled out of him. When he was given a clean bill of health, he also took his discharge. If he was honest it was a bit of relief, he could return to the mountains and quiet life. Quiet was what he needed, what he wanted. When he went back to Harlan, he never said a word about what he did the military. Taking a job as a coal miner he was well on his to that quiet life he craved or so he thought.

[memetrash101]

Name: Joseph Pine

Gender: Male

Age: 26

Place of Birth: Downtown Atlanta

Sexuality: Bisexual

Relationship Status: Single

Occupation: EMT

Power: Super Speed

Cost of powers use: To move at higher speeds, Joseph has to inflict a low voltage shock on his body, as this energises his body, and allows him to run faster, however, he has very little experience with his powers, and is susceptible to running into objects/tripping at high speeds. The voltage he uses also dictates how fast he can run (I.E. 15 to 20 volts will allow him to run at around 40 mph, where as 25 to 30 allows him to run at around 50 mph) and this is obviously extremely dangerous, as a voltage too high would kill him.

Appearance:



Skills:
-Medical training (Because of his profession)
-Dirt Biking experience (Picked up from his Dad)
-Charmer (Part of is personality)
-Novice fighter (Acquired through school yard fights)
-Experienced sky diver (Learned from a hobby)
-Mechanic apprenticeship (Because of his Dad's former profession)
-Practised with handguns (Learned from a hobby)

Personality: He's a fun loving person and a thrill seeker. He's a sucker for anything high octane, but, he is also deeply invested in protecting others. This trait is what led him to become an EMT, as he wanted people who had been hurt to feel protected by him. He is also very cautious, as he realises that there are people that could want to capture him, or worse, because of his power. However, he is open to using his power to help others, wishing to fulfil everyone's childhood dream of being a superhero. He is also normally a joking person, often trying to lighten the mood or make a good first impression. This normally fails however, due to his habit of making jokes that offend people, such as the time he referenced Robocop to an amputee. He's also extremely violent when enraged, a trait that has become even more dangerous due to his power, as he can hit someone at the speed of a car.

History: Joseph was born in Downtown Atlanta to loving parents, his father a mechanic and his mother worked in the diner next to their apartment. Joseph and his Dad both shared a love of motorcycles, in fact, his Dad loved it so much, that he even bought his own.

2 years later, on the way home from work, his Dad was hit by an oncoming bus. He was killed instantly. Without the income from his Dad's job, Joseph and his mother were forced to move in with his Grandparents. It was because of this crash that Joseph wanted to save lives, as he wanted to save people from the type of crash that had killed his Dad. So, at age 18 he worked on his Medical Degree, so that he could become a surgeon.

Not long after finishing his degree, he began visiting his Uncle in Harlan more, he soon worked out ways to traverse the hills by himself with the hills, often taking long camping trips down in the valleys. However, he is much more comfortable in an urban environment, as their are more noticeable obstacles.

At the Charity Gala in Buckhead, Joseph was invited by one of his wealthier patients, and was effected by the sudden application of powers, he discovered his ability by running towards the explosion, looking for survivors, suddenly hitting 45 MPH in seconds. He woke up a day later in hospital with a broken arm, something that repaired itself in a week

[Stitches]

Abigail Harlow

Name: Abigail Harlow
Gender: Female
Age: 18
Place of Birth: Buckhead

Sexuality: Undecided

Relationship Status: Single
Occupation: Assistant

Power: Telekinesis - manipulating objects with your mind, ranging from making the nearest teacup float a few inches in the air to slowing down bullets.

Cost of powers use: Memories. She systematically loses her memories from the latest to the earliest the moment she starts using her powers. The strength and exertion of her powers decides the rate at which she forgets the recent (and then not so recent) past. A sort of self-preservation technique kicks in as the mental strain can exhaust Abigail and stop her from losing too many memories too quickly.

Appearance: A short, scrawny woman with pale blonde hair which reaches a little ways down her spine. Abigail’s nose is small and tilted upwards a little; she has dark blonde eyebrows, flawless teeth and thin lips to give her a bright and dazzling smile. Her eyes are the most notable feature - deep blue, exuding a false warmth. When her facade is shattered, those eyes turn cold and her intellect shines through them. They’re the eyes of a cunning rogue. Abigail’s body is frail and flat - she has pale skin, bony wrists and small extremities. She’s almost entirely flat-chested - an A cup on a good day - and she has a multitude of faint nicks and scratches along her elbows, knees, hands, ankles, and feet. Standing at 5’2, she’s hardly an imposing figure.

Skills:

Stealth: Undeniably the most useful skill Abigail has in her arsenal. Forced to learn the ways of being neither seen nor heard at a young age, Abigail’s ability to move undetected is nothing short of awe-inspiring at times. She’s light, small and agile; coupled with her sharp observational skills, Abigail has practically mastered the art of sneakiness.

Agility: Ties in closely with stealth. She may not be the fastest sprinter but when it comes to twists, turns, dodges and climbing you know Abigail will be in her element. In order to be agile in the first place Abigail has her observational skills and a quick reaction time.

Intelligence: Being one of the top strategists in a crime syndicate requires an incredibly sharp mind. Abigail plans ahead and makes sure to cover her tracks, requiring a fair bit of mindpower to be able to outsmart people who were older, stronger and stupider than her. She uses every trick in the book to deceive, lie, pretend and bargain her way out of situations that may well end up getting her killed.

Criminality: Abigail took a more ‘hands-on’ approach to her new life, making full use of her sneakiness to learn some other dubious (but admittedly very useful) tricks from her co-workers. Basic lock-picking, light fingers, car hijacking and disabling simple alarms are some of her skills. Essentially, if it’s not legal, she could probably do it - but there’s an equal chance she’ll be pretty bad at it or get caught. She only uses these skills when she really has to.

Abigail looks seemingly overpowered at the moment with her strong skillset towards being a sneaky bitch. However, it is important to remember that Abigail is pretty much crap at everything else; she is rather frail when hit, she has little to no brute strength to rely on, her skills when it comes to survival are limited to cooking and sticking band-aids onto things...She’s simply not cut-out for close-quarters combat or living in the wild. Unfortunately for Abigail, close-quarters combat and living the way nature intended seems to be increasingly popular for The Unwanted.

Personality: Confident and outgoing, Abigail borders on childish with her boundless amounts of enthusiasm and optimism. Do not let her bubbly personality and restless, animated movements fool you; the rumours circulating the great Abigail Harlow are intense and highly exaggerated. Her wide and encouraging smile is encompassed by the lips of a fluent liar who does not even begin to show the slightest amount of respect for honour or morality. Abigail does what she wants, when she wants; she is rumoured to hold no loyalty save for her own and that of the highest bidder. This does not mean that her cheeriness is an elaborate ruse - she is genuinely just a happy person - but she'll be just as happy to blackmail a widow or steal from a beggar if the situation calls for it.

Since her mystery is upheld by the outrageous amount of gossip surrounding her, she holds true to her perceived persona - a chaotic neutral with a reckless and impulsive behaviour spurred on by a constant state of hyperactivity. However, she is not as nonchalant about whose side she is on; if someone manages to lower their guard and truly attempt to protect and comfort Abigail, becoming the closest allies with her and actually trusting her, then she will extend her loyalty in return and use her skills to look out for those she cares about. When displeased, Abigail has a horrible habit of sulking, pulling faces and not-so-subtly trying to garner pity or attention from others.


History:

Dear Future Abigail,

I’m writing this and giving it to the Boss so that we’ve got a backup copy just in case everything goes to shit and you manage to forget everything. The real copy is...hell, you don’t need to know that since you’re already reading this. Okay, no messing around, we’ll go from the start.

You don’t need to know the names of your parents. They were heroin addicts and overall assholes who gave birth to an even bigger asshole - yours truly. You were an only child and apparently a mistake as well, so that must be pretty comforting...but don’t worry, your biological mother and father weren’t worth the grit in their sneakers. Know why? The moment you were old enough to understand the concept of money, you got suckered into smuggling stuff into your school for the older kids in order to raise a bit of extra cash. Hell, sometimes I’m even grateful for it - if you didn’t get manipulated into that high-risk low-reward drudge work and didn’t get a taste for breaking the rules early on then maybe you wouldn’t have gotten to where you are today. Started off with contraband, things like sweets and gum, then mommy’s dealer sent you in with little packets of ‘sherbet’. That little job kept you going for around 4 years. You made a bunch of friends out of it and started to learn a fair bit about business, if I do say so myself. Then it all changed.

You were just a kid when it all happened, some snot-nose little working class brat who had her ego inflated by her so-called ‘shady business’ in the corridors of that state school. The door was kicked in, your dad got a well-deserved kick in the jaw, those goons grabbed the dealer and shoulder-barged your mom on the way out again. I don’t know what possessed you to do it - maybe we’re just a little crazy after all - but seeing your only known family snivelling on the floor is enough to pull a few heartstrings, even if they were wastes of space. And-...maybe it’s a bit of curiosity too. I can’t remember; so much happened since then. Long story short, you took in the make, licence plate and colour of the car and tailed it all the way back to their hideout. Maybe we were trying to be noble? All I remember is how foolish we were. Got in through the top floor window and spied on these men until someone grabbed you from behind, dragged you kicking and screaming down to the other thugs and then clasped a hand over your mouth and nose.

Brought you straight up to Boss. To be perfectly honest, we’re both pretty lucky those dimwits didn’t slit your throat and leave you in the gutter...anyway, the Boss saw some potential in you. God knows you weren’t satisfied with trying to look after those deadbeat drug addicts, and whilst your little salesmanship game at school made you feel important, he asked you if you wanted to expand your horizons. You said yes. Here’s where the tutoring began.

I really hope it’s been ingrained into your psyche by now because I worked my ass off to get where I am today. There aren’t any exams for this line of work - if you don’t pass these tests you wind up dead. Luckily, it turns out you had a real knack for being a deceitful little girl and with the right tips and lessons, you learnt how to run a proper business. The Boss taught you everything he knows, and you’ve done awe-inspiring things under his wing. You had a penthouse suite, everyone knew your name, you mingled with the rich and famous but you never ever let it get in the way of your job. You’ve made a lot of money.

Hopefully you’re still smart enough to notice I just used the past tense. Guess what? I’m writing this in the back seat of a rusty old pick-up truck deep in the arse end of nowhere! Here’s the second big shocker; you went to the Wildlife Charity Gala with Boss and, well...things went south. It got real bad. You barely made it out in one piece and the moment we’d turned the corner away from the street the two of you started executing Plan F. Almost immediately after the Gala we lost employees left and right, things got pretty stressy...We took it in shifts to handle our job and the preparations for plan F, loads of paperwork and coffee. When we lost Stevens the Boss went right up to your apartment personally and we both got out of the city.

Since then it’s been hell. I haven’t had a proper sleep in days, I look like a tramp...I had to cut my goddamn hair too, and this baseball cap itches. In all my years of planning and preparation for the “Just In Case” scenario, well...I guess I didn’t think it through that much because who honestly believes that everything would come crashing down the way it has? Things just got scary too. We’ve been knocked off our ivory towers. No more bodyguards or hired thugs to keep us safe, no average-joe looking workers to do all the menial stuff for us...every moment we spend in the public eye is a fucking nightmare because it only takes one person to point and mutter. If our cover’s blown, we’re worse than dead.

But hey, relax. If you’re reading this letter then you’ve got the Boss with you. He’ll tell you what to do. And...if you’re reading this letter and Boss is dead?

FUCKING RUN.

[Biscuits]

Brooks Ellerby

Name: Brook Ellerby
Gender: Male
Age: 48
Place of Birth: Buckhead
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Relationship Status: Single
Occupation: “Restaurant Manager”

Power:
Shapeshifting.

Cost of powers use:
Not only is the transformation painful, Brook also retains some of the psychological traits of the animal he shapeshifted in for around an hour after changing back. Whilst shapeshifted his intelligence is hindered by his animal instinct, making it difficult to remain in control.

Appearance:
A stocky, slightly chubby male with greying hair and thick eyebrows. His dark brown eyes are deep-set and show the first faint age lines, slightly visible bags and creases. Although he is clean-shaven, he has a fair amount of dark body hair. In his prime, he used to wear clean shirts, blazers and overall expensive clothing; now he has been reduced to a flannel shirt and a pair of jeans. His usually immaculate appearance is starting to deteriorate; his hair is getting greasy and lank, the bags under his eyes are more pronounced and his clothes are disheveled. His distinctive lips are typically pursed into a solemn frown.

Skills:

Strategist: Able to plan things out, look at a map, organise and prepare for things. Able to measure people’s strengths and weaknesses up and place them in the best positions.

Realist: Able to make the hard choices for the benefit of the team. Not afraid of getting his hands dirty. Doesn’t make stupid sacrifices - knows when to run away.

Business: Makes deals and keeps networks of contacts, can always put a name to a face, knows how to get bargains/make compromises. Very good with finances. Knows when he’s being lied to, can smell a scam or a trap a mile off.

Personality:
Brooks is not like the stereotypical gang leader. He’s practical, looking after the people in his territory and winning them over so he can manipulate and exercise his control later on. His firm, cold demeanour emanates authority, but his respect needs to be earned through actions before he can trust you. A pessimistic attitude has allowed him to be able to expect the worst and avoid nasty surprises; he rarely sees the good in people, and understands that there is no moral code in life. This style of thinking has made Brooks very selfish and he will stoop to any level to protect himself.

Despite the cool and indiscernible exterior, Brooks is a very volatile and passionate person. A mothers-boy and a family man at heart, he is prepared to take on any challenge to protect those he truly cares for. His bouts of anger and violent unpredictability, though rarely directed at his precious group of friends, have nevertheless tarnished his reputation by making him intimidating. There are very few who know how to placate him, even fewer who would actually be able to pull it off.

History:

“I don’t wanna’ be a product of my own environment, I want my environment to be a product of me. Way back when we had the church, that was just another way of sayin’ we had each other. Twenty years later we got people scrounging for corners, and dyin’ over districts.
If I got one thing against ‘em it’s this - No one gives it to ya’, you have to take it.

Tin ‘n’ Lint. I spent many a childhood days here, my face pressed against the window along with the other kids staring at the South-end's biggest and meanest men... Stories of their very actions boggling and filling our childhood minds with dreams of one day becoming like them. Now these men were proper animals, they owned these streets. Our dead-beat fathers feared ‘em, our Mothers warned us to stay away from ‘em. You can imagine what kinda’ honor I felt when I was allowed to waiter for ‘em in there. Hearing about their latest busts, debts they racked in, who’s safe and who ain’t? It was only time till one of ‘em pulled me aside and told me to deliver a message to Tony from further down the block. Messages became packages. Packages became threats. Threats became reality. And -snap- I was locked on.

There used to be a lot of bars down here in the south end. Though only two mattered. We had the Tin n’ Lint, and Ray’s Happy Birthday Bar. The Tin ‘n’ Lint boys decided it’d be a good idea to spread their operations from street-corners to districts instead. Crisped Ray’s joint up proper.
Now whether that was a good idea or not is debated still to this date, because no one expected the holy crusade the cops would have pulled on the South-ends asses after a menial stung like that..
I’m talking busts, stings, undercovers, mass-arrests… the biggest baddest men in the south didn’t know what hit ‘em. Their castles o’ stone turned to cheese after the first wave of rats started gnawing and nibbling into pig’s ears.
As it turned out, the Tin n’ Lint crooks didn’t have as much fear over the people as they thought. People were all too eager to speak up against their “brutality” towards the common folk. They weren’t wrong either.

And then there was me. Fatherless, mother's-boy, me.
My idols turning out to be weaker than ever, junkies n’ crack addicts littering the streets?
There was one thing I decided to do. No one gives it you, you -take- it.
If there’s one thing that all southies are on board with, it’s religion.
Being a criminal is much like being a mayor or president, really.
With the people's support you’re -untouchable-.

Make the Elderly happy by knowing they won’t die alone.
Calm the mothers by watching over their kids.
Keep the fathers pleased with secure jobs.
Thanksgiving turkey is just a bonus.

You don’t just make sure your gangs happy, you make sure the people surrounding your gang are happy, -they’re- the real threat.
I own the Tin n’ Lint now. I also own this street and the one down there. Fuck, I own this whole district.”

- Brooks Ellerby to Abigail Harlow

[DarkwolfX37]

Violet Black

Name:
Violet Black
Creative name, right? Yeah, my parents' sense of humor is moderate at best.

Gender:
Female

Age:
15

Place of Birth:
Hospital in Ikebukuro in Toshima, Tokyo, Japan. Has lived in many countries. (See "History" for more information.)

Sexuality:
Homosexual, though with no interest in romance or sex in general, to the point of being classifiable as Asexual.

Relationship Status:
N/A.

Occupation:
Student.

Power and Cost:

Power

Power:
Has a natural vector-altering field that extends 5 inches (12.7 cm) from her body that reduces all vectors within it. Any vectors applied to this field from outside that aren't zero are increasingly cut as they travel through the field.
Can extend this field to up to 0.5 km, and consciously manipulate up to three different vectors at a time within her field, whether extended or otherwise.
Can prevent the vector reducing effect from affecting things that enter her field.
Naturally and unconsciously uses her power on herself as necessary to survive. (Sort of needed, or she'd just die when she went to sleep.) The multitude of vectors this requires implies that she will eventually grow much more powerful, and/or that she would be much more powerful already if she didn't need to control the vectors required to allow air in and out, breathe, have her heart beat, allow electricity and chemicals to flow through her body, etc. This affect seems to apply to other living things as well, as people who have entered her field has survived despite the field reducing all vectors originating within it to zero, which would otherwise be fatal.
Can use her control of vectors to alter locational vectors, allowing for minor teleportation. Most often uses this to avoid needing to go to the bathroom by removing waste from within the body to another location.

Example of what this means:
If someone were to shoot her, the bullet's acceleration, velocity, and force vectors would all be cut severely by the time it makes contact with her. This means that, depending on the initial values that in this scenario would be based on the firepower of the gun, the bullet's actual effect would vary from bouncing off her harmlessly, continuing to be cut as it does so and eventually resulting in it simply floating in place within her field, (which would then eventually become stuck to her due to cutting its dislocation vector) to retaining enough force that it could send her flying as if it were a normal person being hit by a small fist punching them quite hard. It would take an incredibly powerful force to achieve the affect of a bullet on a normal person. For example, a railgun would almost certainly still pierce through her.
Alternatively, if she were hit by a semi-truck, depending on its speed, it would still likely send her flying quite a ways and do pretty sever damage to her body both from the initial impact with the truck and with the impact as she lands, due to its high mass.

Drawbacks:
- Can't turn it completely off.
- All vectors that begin within her field (natural field only, not extended field) are zero.
- Due to the above, her weight vector is zero, making her totally weightless so she has to wear super-heavy anklets and/or wristbands that are large enough to escape her field.
- Things that enter her field will eventually be stuck to her due to their displacement vector growing smaller.
- Must constantly use her power to consciously manipulate vectors on herself in order to move. Otherwise her velocity vector of zero would prevent her from moving.
- Must move at a consistent velocity or use her power to consciously manipulate vectors on herself in order to move. Otherwise her acceleration vector of zero would prevent her from moving/moving at varying velocities.
- Must constantly use one slot of her controllable vectors on herself in order to move, otherwise she wouldn't be able to move because her force vector is zero.
- Has to use all three of her conscious controlled vectors in order to move. (Force, Velocity, Acceleration.)

Cost:
Extending her field lessens her blood pressure in amounts relative to the size it is extended to.
Controlling vectors consciously depletes her body's supply of blood sugar relative to the number of vectors she is controlling. Three vectors will cause her to lose blood sugar at a rate of 10 points per hour. (For reference, since I don't want to assume you guys have diabetics in your family like I do, 300 is very high and 30 is very low. Going above or below these levels can be very dangerous. The safe and almost constant range for a non-diabetic is 80 to 120.) Four vectors increases the rate to 20, five to 40, six to 80, etc.

Weaknesses:
- Scalars.
- Lack of weights to keep her from flying into space.
- Own self.
- Anything that would alter her homeostasis as this could easily kill her.

Further information:

Physics is fun

It's a physics based power, so it can be hard to follow.

Okay so basically the way it works is:
Each vector is like muscles. She has to sort of learn how to affect each different vector the way someone would learn a new muscle. The way I was going to have her explain it to the group is: "Imagine if you woke up with a tail tomorrow. It would be really hard for you to figure out how to move the muscles in it because you didn't have that infant stage where it became natural for you. Or like moving a single toe at a time. It's difficult to figure out how to do." The only ones she knows how to use with any real skill are the ones she needs to move, and even them she's got limited control over.
A vector is basically anything with both magnitude and direction. So stuff like force, velocity, acceleration, gravity, dislocation, etc. Dislocation is the odd one out there because it's the one not as many people know about. It's basically the difference between two locations. Movement requires force to actually get it to start moving and continue moving, because movement is a force and generates further force. Velocity is basically speed. Acceleration is just change in velocity. So movement requires all three of these, and because she can't generate any vectors above zero since she's in her own field, she has to control these three vectors to move. And since her own weight vector is zero, if she doesn't either control it directly or wear weights that escape her field to give her weight, she'll basically just fly into space.
How the field itself works is a bit mathy, but it basically cuts all vectors of anything that enters it by an additional five percent each inch closer to her it gets, meaning that something that goes all the way through to make contact with her would have all its vectors cut by a total of 75%. So if something is moving at 100 mph, it would only hit her at 25 mph. Her biggest problem is that anything that stops within her field would continuously have its dislocation cut by the correct percentage until eventually the thing in her field was stuck to her with a dislocation of zero. The longer something is in her field, the more it gets cut by the correct percentage based on how close to her it is. This also means that things basically just slow down when they get close to her, so to take the snake example, she'd have plenty of time to move out of the way of a biting snake because it would get slowed down so much.
The cost is basically that controlling one to three vectors drops her blood sugar by ten points an hour, and extending her field drops her blood pressure. And since she needs to control vectors just to move... She's basically got to eat a lot of sugar constantly or she'll eventually go into diabetic shock. And in extreme situations, where she'd have to extend her field, there's a huge risk of her passing out or worse due to low blood pressure. And while she's passed out, she can't affect her weight, so if she isn't wearing weights to keep her on the ground, she'll just start floating away. The lucky thing is that while she's passed out, she's not moving with her controlled vectors so her blood sugar isn't dropping too.

Appearance:
Violet is a caucasian girl with light brown hair that she keeps straight and that reaches to just below her shoulders at the back, brown eyes that are a slightly lighter shade than her hair, and no scars or blemishes on any part of her body. She stands at five foot 3 inches, and has a notably athletic build with visibly toned muscles. She is underweight at ninety-eight pounds, though she contests that this is not an issue as her medium A-cup breasts take away weight that would be there for other females of her height.
It's true! If I were bustier, I'd weigh more! I'm only underweight because I have smaller than average tits, okay!?
She almost always wears a variation of the same outfit. She wears a skirt that reaches to a little above her knees, a pair of short cargo shorts underneath and below that athletic spats that reach beyond the bottom of the shorts. She also wears athletic socks underneath warming socks that cover most of her shins. Her upper body is covered by a black sports bra under a purple tank-top, every instance of which has an image of some sort on the front of. Her outfit is completed by a black sweatshirt with a rose that sits over her heart when it is fully zipped, and stems and vines with thorns to match the rose spreading over the rest of the hoodie, along with a larger rose on the center of the back.
She also wears heavy, metal bracers on her lower arms and shins that each weigh one hundred fifty pounds and are six inches thick on each side. Her power causes the first five inches to be weightless, so each bracer adds only twenty-five pounds to her weight. These bracers create the one hundred pounds of weight that keep her from floating into space. The metal used is stainless steel, making them very useful as protection as well. However, since these extend beyond her field, targeting them with high force can affect her with the full force of the hit.
She wears a thin metal backpack under her sweatshirt where she keeps blood pressure and blood sugar testing equipment, as well as all the sugar filled food she can fit inside.

Skills:
She is capable of cooking quite well, and is also a very talented singer. She has very good drawing skills, but always has trouble trying to color her art or paint. She has learned to play several instruments to varying degrees, most notably the guitar, violin, and piano. She has somewhat above basic survival skills, including education on what fauna and flora is and isn't edible and how to best prepare meals from whatever food may be available in a given area. She also knows intermediate medical skills.
"Very talented," yeah, sure. I'm the best singer, thank you very much.

Personality:

Personality

Sociopath

- (Noun) a person with a personality disorder manifesting itself in extreme antisocial attitudes and behavior and a lack of conscience.

Violet can best be described by her actions and by what others have said about her, as well as her own statements. As such, she has been allowed to comment on this file in purple text.
Attempts to describe her traditionally are generally met with failure, as she is eccentric to the point of being nearly non-understandable. The most obvious facets of her personality are her strange sense of humor and her tendency to either be extremely excitable and extroverted or extremely introverted and reflective, with seemingly no middle ground aside from her "jokes." (See "Quotes" for more information.)
She is incredibly intelligent and well educated; in a sense she is exactly what one would expect from the child of two world-travelling, incredibly successful entrepreneurs (See "History" for more information.) in that she is not only a prodigy in many regards, but has few social skills and many odd quirks.
Fuck you I don't have social skills! I have plenty of social skills! I'm like, the most skilled socializer ever!
She has a somewhat unhealthy obsession with snakes and an equally unhealthy hatred of insects. Due to a disorder she does not fully experience the sensation of pain that a regular person would. That is not to say that pain is totally eliminated, rather that her body's nerves don't react as strongly to painful stimuli, resulting in her feeling less pain. This, in combination with her total lack of fear of death has resulted in several self-inflicted hospitalizations throughout her lifetime. Perhaps due to her disorder, or perhaps simply a quirk of her mind, she does not exhibit the usual reactions to injury. (Screaming, clutching the wound, etc.)
Snakes are the best. I had a pet snake named "Nagi." I named him that cause my favorite character in a manga was related to snakes and named "Nagisa," plus it's kind of like "Naga" so I thought it was the perfect name. He was a red-tailed boa and ate rats. He was the best, but then one day when we were moving, he got out of his tank and was loose in the area. He killed three people, I was so proud of him. But then everyone wanted to find and kill him, so I made sure to find him first and release him far away into the wild. I really miss him.
*For the record, Nagi now lives a relatively peaceful life where he was released. He has several children.*
No but really I fucking hate insects and anything like them. The only acceptable ones are wasps, butterflies, and manti. Wasps look awesome and they're like living balls of hate that lay eggs in other insects that kills them. They pollinate cool trees and there's a wasp that fucking eats tarantulas and there is no greater justice in the world than killing those fuckers. Seriously, if you purposefully bring a spider within three miles of me, I will rip out your larynx and shove it so far up your ass that it goes back into place upside down. Anyway, butterflies are cool cause they're beautiful and, like, think about it. They spend their whole lives travelling many times their body length so they can eat enough to create a cocoon, then they hibernate while their bodies become awesome and then they live the last bit of their lives just pollinating flowers and looking cool. They are like the real example of hard workers. Oh, you built a monument, cool, but can you travel thousands of miles then morph your body into something cool and then spend your life working every time you have a meal? No? Then shut up. Butterflies are cool, man. And manti? Oh man, manti are the greatest. Like, they have swords for arms. I would love to have swords for arms, are you kidding? Plus, they look badass, AND they eat other insects. They're like, perfect. And the males are the best parents ever, like they literally die so that the female can survive without needing to hunt for a while as the eggs develop and hatch. If human guys were like that, the world would be so much nicer.
*Okay, so maybe she's idealized manti a bit.*
Oh, yeah, that. I know it's probably not why I just don't get scared of being in mortal danger, but I like to think it's because of this. So you know how there's like a moment where you sort of "activate?" Like when you first start being conscious and making memories? Yeah so, that happened to me when I was in japan, and my parents had brought me to a food place where the food is prepared in front of the customers, right? Well, first thing I ever saw that was actually capable of becoming a memory was a live fish getting its head cut off. So I like to think my brain was just like "Okay, pause." and went off to a corner and was like "Well, I was going to be a pretty average girl, grow up to be a success in some field, and just generally be 'normal,' but..." and then it looked back at the fish getting its head cut off and was like "Nope, fuck that, sociopath. Wait, I'm activated now, no time to talk to myself. I need to get back to the girl." and then just everything sort of went from there. Oh and that pain thing? Yeah, like, I obviously don't know how it feels for other people, but pain doesn't really bother me. And like, you know how when humans and other mammals cry out when they get hurt as a survival mechanism to get other members of the pack to come assist them? I just like... don't have that instinct? Like when I get hurt, my brain's just like "okay, so I'm injured now, cool. Noted, now what was I doing again?" and just sort of ignores it. Plus I've got like, a pretty morbid sense of humor when it comes to injuries? I still remember when I was... seven-ish? I was at my cousin's place and we were playing, well he jumped out of a tree from too high up and broke his leg. Like, it was clearly broken by the way it was twisted. And I just sort of stared at it for a while as he was screaming and crying and then looked him in the eyes, told him to look at me, and then said "walk it off." He started crying even more after that, but I for one thought it was hilarious. I'm pretty sure I just sat on a nearby rock after that and waited for his parents to hear him and come get him?
*Yes, she actually did just sit down and watch her cousin cry in pain with a broken leg until an adult heard him and came over. She then followed them inside and played games until the ambulance arrived.*

Quotes about Violet from those who have known her

As I said above, Violet is best described by her actions and by what has been said about her. As such, I've collected several statements from her family and previous classmates. Having been home-schooled well beyond her age's general education, she skipped all of primary school as well as middle school and spent only a single semester in each year of high school. During her sophomore "year", at age twelve and thirteen, her fellow students wrote quotes and stories about her to be collected into a book that she was given when she completed the "year," as a farewell present for her moving schools. The following are several excerpts. Somehow, a common theme traveled among the student body, and many chose to use this theme in their statements.
"'Violet is simultaneously the most childish and most mature teenager I've ever met.' I had math class with her, and it was insane. So you know those assignments we get every day or two? Well, most of us had to take at least half the class to finish them, but I swear to god she did them in like thirty seconds. I'd be on the fourth problem and she'd have already given hers to the teacher to be graded. But that's not the weird thing. For the rest of class, she'd be on her phone and she was playing a Hello Kitty game. Not like, a game just with the characters, but like a game specifically made for little kids. I asked her the name once and looked it up and it was for three years and up, and just a serious Hello Kitty game. She played it three times, just in a row over the first month or so, and then she moved on to this game where you have to move blocks so that one will be able to get to a certain place. There were days where I'd watch her for the entire class, and she would literally just do the same level over and over for the whole hour."
I thought it would be funny for a highschooler to play a Hello Kitty game for kids in class, so I just sorta did it. Same with doing the same puzzle over and over for the whole class. It just seemed like it would be funny to do so I did it.
"Violet is terrifying sometimes. One day, a kid fell down the stairs and got really hurt, he was bleeding and his ankle was twisted weird, I think he landed on a pen or something to cause the bleeding? Me and Violet both saw him fall and rushed over to see if he was okay, and as he was crying she just suddenly turned her head and stared at the top of the stairs for a long time. It felt like ten minutes as I was trying to get her attention again. She was staring really intently like there was something dangerous up there. Then all the sudden she just turns really quickly so she's looking at me and said 'I think I just saw a ghost.' Then she turned to the injured kid and grabbed him, holding his cheeks in her hands and his eyes open with her thumbs, and just stared into his eyes for a second before saying 'I think it was yours if you don't get to a fucking hospital soon.' with a totally serious expression as if she'd just told him he had an hour to live. Then she just stood back up and walked down the stairs to the first floor and went somewhere. The kid practically went into shock, I wound up accidentally bumping his injured leg into a door frame and he just sort of whimpered instead of shouting in pain. I confronted her the next day about it and she just said it was 'a joke to help him calm down.' Ever since then, I've been terrified of getting seriously hurt when nobody but her is around to help, because I think she'd just ignore me."
Oh, I remember that. Yeah, that was pretty hilarious. I actually had to leave school because I was laughing so hard after walking away. But yeah, I'd totally have left this girl if she got hurt, probably after making a joke, heh.
"Violet is insane as hell but I love it. I've pretty much been stalking her whenever I could in school after something in shop class. Remember the buzzsaw there? Not the portable one, but the one on a lever that lowers it to just barely not touching the surface you set the wood you're working with on? One day in class, she was over there using it, and all the sudden there was this loud crash as the saw went back up into place since the lever was suddenly let go while it was down. Everyone in class was startled and looked over at her. She just turned around and looked at the teacher with a totally straight face and asked 'Can I use the bathroom now?' and the teacher asked 'Well, can you hold it until after class?' And she just held up her left pointer finger which was covered in blood and had bone showing through this huge cut for a few seconds, then grabbed it with her other hand and said 'Sure' and just turned around and went back to working on her project while holding her finger with her right hand. She didn't even flinch or scream or act like she was in pain at all, it was creepy. Well the teacher sent her to the nurse and I assume she went to the hospital. I'm sure you all remember the day she got on the intercom somehow? That was the day after. Remember how just all the sudden she was talking on it and said 'If any students need help with learning shop safety, I'm holding a special study group on the roof after school. Bring a knife and food.' and how shop class for everyone was just tool safety for the next week or so while they cleaned the saw? Ever since then I was trying to see her as often as I could because I wanted to see how she'd react to stuff."
Oooooh, that's right. That was actually really funny, I wound up laughing the entire time I was getting my finger patched up. I was lucky I noticed it just before it cut through the bone or I might have lost the finger.
"So I know the whole thing is supposed to be 'Oh she's the most and least mature person I've ever met.' but this story is much more important. To set the scene, I was waiting in the office where the assistant principals are because I was accused of having pot on me. Really, I had just spent the night at a friend's place and his big bro had been smoking and drinking all night so we both smelled like it, but that's why I was there. All the sudden Violet walks in and sits down a seat away from me playing with a screwdriver, like tossing it back and forth in her hands or flipping it and catching it. Well, Maxwell opened his door after a minute and called her in, but neither of them remembered to shut the door, so I could hear them talking. He said that there had been several reports of her having a weapon on her, and she just looks at him and says 'Anything could be a weapon.' I could tell that me and him both thought the same thing, which was 'oh shit, the screwdriver.' But she just slams it down on his table and picks up the little statue he had on his desk, then slams it into her forehead hard enough that the entire office heard it, then she just stands up, says 'But yes, I always carry a pocketknife in case I'm in danger in or out of school.' and walks away with all this blood coming from her forehead. I watched through the glass behind me as she just walked out of the school. Well, she didn't show up for a week after that, and when she did I asked her why she had been gone and she told me it was 'a self applied suspension, to save Maxwell the trouble of kicking her out for a week.' Then she goes to the office and I follow her and pretend to wait for something as I sat down because I wanted to see what happened. She walked into Maxwell's office and pulled out this knife with one of those giant erasers shoved on the blade and said 'I childproofed the knife.' with a totally serious voice and walked out, presumably to her first class. I lost it at that."
See, this kid gets it. My jokes are awesome.
"Violet is simultaneously the most and least mature person I know, and she also might be slightly demonic? Okay so I had biology with her, and when we were dissecting actual frogs she just put these medical gloves on and did the dissection in about a quarter of the time it took everyone else. But then the day we were doing a virtual dissection of snakes, she set the room on fire and nobody knows how she did it. It was like a magic trick or something but nobody saw her use a match or a lighter or even like sticks or something, and when she was searched afterwords supposedly they didn't find anything. But it was like cartoon physics. The teacher brought in a dead snake to dissect while we all did the virtual ones, so she could show us what they actually looked like, and I swear Violet's stare and anger is what started the fire. She was glaring at the teacher as if she had killed her family and then all the sudden the paper in front of her caught fire. It was small enough that we didn't have to leave the school but class got cancelled. There's a rumor that the occult club considers her a paranormal being because of that day, even."
Right, that. I was pissed. We were told for weeks that it was just a virtual dissection and we wouldn't have to actually cut open snakes, and then the fucking teacher brought one in anyway! I mean, I know the snake was raised to be dissected but that's fucked up! Everyone responsible for that shit should be tied up and sent to biology classes to be dissected when learning the human body, and they should be dissected while they're still alive. But about the fire. I had sandpaper because I was working on my shop class project outside of class, and I had it in my hand because I liked playing with it. Then when I saw the dead snake I got really pissed and I think I just wound up rubbing the sandpaper against itself so hard and fast that a bit of it came off while really hot and landed on the paper. It would be really cool if I could light fires with my eyes though.
"Well, one of the scariest things my daughter ever did was when she was seven or so. We were at the beach and she suddenly came over with a snake she was holding just behind the head, and said 'Look dad! It's a pelagic sea snake!' Later that day, I looked up what that is and found out it was incredibly venomous, but at the time all I knew was that my little girl was holding a snake that she herself was telling me had a really potent venom. I was panicking on the inside and she asked me if we could keep it. She asked 'Dad, can we keep...' then she turned it so she was looking under it and stared at it for a few seconds before continuing 'her!? I'm sure Nagi would love a new friend! Not that I'd let her near my Nagi, she might bite him, so she'd need her own tank. Plus she needs water and Nagi doesn't so she'd need her own anyway...' I was terrified that she was going to get bitten but I had to convince her not to try to bring it with her, so I told her that the snake probably preferred to live out at the beach instead of cramped in a tank. She just looked at me like I said something confusing and asked 'Why? I'm sure she'd prefer a life where she just eats and lays about. I'd love a life of just eating and laying about. Then again, it might get pretty boring... And she might have a husband and kids...' And this is why that day was burned into my memory, because she turned the snake and held it about an inch from her face and stared into its eyes for what felt like forever with how panicked I was, and she asked it 'Why are you so important, dangit?' and walked off with it to put it back where she found it. I followed to make sure she didn't get bit but she gently threw it into a little pool that formed from the ocean water and walked away as if there wasn't a dangerous snake right behind her. Luckily the snake just slithered away in the other direction but it was probably the most frightening moment of my life."
It's not like I was in any danger anyway. I knew how to correctly handle snakes since I was five. It was the first thing I actually tried to learn on my own, cause snakes are cool.

History:
Kept brief at Violet's request.
Her parents are both very successful at their respective businesses, and due to the volatility of their professions, they often have to travel to various countries. They were living in Japan during the time Violet was born, but since then have lived in Russia, China, Australia, England, Ireland, Egypt, France, Canada, The United States, and several other, less notable locations. As such, Violet has at least a rudimentary grasp of the various languages she grew up around, though she is only fluent in English and Japanese. (At her own request, as she had an interest in learning the language of her place of birth, even if she might never need to know it.) She was homeschooled until the age of ten, gaining an education that could easily qualify as college-level, and then began attending public schools "for the social experience" and to get certified as having had a formal education. Until recently, she has been enrolled in online college courses at multiple colleges. She has since dropped out after gaining her powers. Her parents had taken her to the Wildlife Charity Gala, where she gained her power. Since then, she has remained in her home and spent her time trying to study herself and her newfound abilities.
Yeah, I'm sure you all are nice people, but I don't like the idea of my life being out there for anyone to read. Thanks.

Further Comments:

Further Comments

Violet felt the need to say some additional things, so this is where those things will be put, along with the information she volunteered about herself.
You want to know about me, DW? Aren't you like, omniscient when it comes to my life, since you're, you know, in another universe and linked here with your mind or something? I guess I can give the usual like I did back in school. So, I've been called "Sarcasm Incarnate," "Irony Incarnate," "Simultaneously the most childish and most mature girl ever," "Faggot," and, my personal favorite, "Queen 'Beat you in a fist fight with her words.'" I don't really have any fears or anything, but I hate insects and anything insect-like, such as millipedes and centipedes and spiders. I once stabbed someone for putting a fake spider in my locker. Last I knew, they were still catatonic, since I sort of stabbed them under the chin... Anyway. I love snakes, I like cats cause they're cute, and I like wolves and dogs that look like wolves cause they're cool. They've got that sleek, badass look to them and that makes up for them being dogs and gross. I had a pet boa named "Nagi" who killed three people so I had to put him on the lamb and sneak him out into the wild. I supposedly feel less pain than the average person, and I don't have the normal reactions to pain. But if someone tries to punch me to test that or something, word of warning, I will hurt you worse, because anatomy trumps strength any day, and I'm also decently strong. My favorite traits are my ability to kill an average sized human adult with as little as a sewing needle. No, I haven't actually done it, I just know how to. I'm also really proud of my singing, so I tend to sing a lot when I'm happy or sad or... feeling anything, really. So that's pretty much it, is that good enough, DW?
Okay, so can I just say for the record, fuck highschool juniors? So I wound up realizing I was and then coming out as a lesbian in my so called "junior year." Like eighty percent of my fellow juniors started calling me names trying to insult me. Jokes on them, I lit some of their backpacks on fire in the yard and suddenly they stopped calling me things to my face. But I got revenge. Since I was getting to the next year before anyone else, I got my yearbook and got it signed before anyone else. So pretty much every page just says "Fag" on it with the first few pages saying "F" then a ton of pages with "A" and the last ones with "G," which was fine. The cool people said really nice stuff and drew like hearts and stuff and this one girl, and trust me I'll talk about her in a minute, wrote me a love poem that was surprisingly really well written and sweet. But I got my revenge by getting all the people who were cool with me to write "Faggot" in everyone's yearbook that they signed, so it's likely the entire year's worth of students have their yearbook calling them it, so I've dubbed them the "Year of the Fags and Fuckers." But the school was really cool and let me sign other people's yearbooks early. That was a mistake. Every single person in the year who had called me names? Yeah, they've got a page of their yearbook that's just a giant sketch of two girls fucking and the quote "Well, I might be a fag, but I bet you guys are the ones who fap to fags, so here ya go. Have fun." I left that year very satisfied with my legacy.
Highschool seniors are much more accepting of lesbians, I've found. They had their own campus separate from the other three years at the school I was at, and that was helpful. Maybe it's because that's when everyone is "experimenting" or something, but there were very few people there who were anti-gay. In fact, once it got out that I was gay, I actually had quite a few girls ask me out. And every single one I responded to the same way. I beckoned them closer, leaned up if they were taller or down in the rare cases they were shorter, put my lips right to their ear and whispered in my quietest voice, "I'm fourteen." That got rid of them pretty quick, but I'm pretty sure I made one girl a pedophile. See that girl who wrote me a poem the semester before? She was only a junior for that semester that I was one because she was a couple credits behind, so she moved to a senior when I did. She never did let up on trying to date me, even when she found out she was four years older than me. She was a pretty cool girl though, I hope she's doing okay now.