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Carlyle█ JACK DANIEL WILKERSON
 ▼ PERSONAL DETAILS ► Age - Twenty-five ► Gender - Female ► Sexuality - Homosexual ► Nickname - JD ► Occupation - Floor Staff ► Qualifications - N/A ► Residence - Delton, Maine ▼ PHYSICALITY ► Scars - Small nicks on the palms of her hands from too many shattered glasses ► Tattoos - N/A ► Piercings - N/A ► Style - Others call it butch, she calls it comfortable. Shops mainly (if not exclusively) in the men's aisle. Caught somewhere between casual and formal—suits and tailoring are a no-go, but hoodies and sweatpants feel wrong. Her wardrobe mainly consists of polo shirts, jeans and chinos, with a few t-shirts for those real casual days.  |  LIFE AT RITMAN During her (poor) attendance at Ritman High, Jack was a ‘cultured’ figure. She didn’t see the point in trying to stay with one set of friends, and wasn’t too particular about who she hung with so long as they weren’t excessively geeky or bitchy, with a known tendency to jump ship. If she started hanging around with different people, then inevitably her old ‘group’ were about to explode under the weight of teen drama. Jack had a foot in the door of the gossip from several circles, quietly observing the workings of stupid people being petty. She never took sides—she was just there for the banter and playing hooky down at the plaza. Apathy was the rule. In class, she had a lackluster attitude towards education. She didn’t know what the fuck she was doing, so why was she gonna waste her effort when it wouldn’t come to fruition? Certain teachers saw the potential she had and tried to nudge her into caring about progress, push her in the right direction to finally getting that equation or knowing more appropriate words to deliver presentations with that weren’t hushed swear words and hamfisted analogies, but they were met with a solid brick wall of “I don’t care about doing this shit”. Her classroom behavior amounted to sitting quietly at the back and snickering when the class clowns did their regular routine. When around whichever friend group, Jack held the same attitude. She wasn’t good with empathy or emotional support, god knows she wasn’t mature enough to give advice, so she would retreat at the first sign of a breakup between friends or a fight over something stupid that nobody would care about or remember in five years. If people were too full of themselves to get that high school was probably the least significant part of their lives, and being so emotionally invested was dumb, then that wasn’t her problem. She knew how to sneak out at lunch with the seniors, she was sardonic and quick-witted, and she didn’t mind sharing snacks with people. That’s all you need to be at the very least one of the most tolerated individuals in your grade. Fly-on-a-wall stuff. PSYCHE Jack’s apathy is prevalent in the way she converses with others. There’s probably a sub-ten number of people that have actually seen her smile, and her sardonic comedy routine just feels empty the longer you know her for. Talking to people is just another part of her daily routine, and exerts her about as much as brushing her teeth does. ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔Hope isn’t all lost, though. The years have softened Jack somewhat; made her more prone to care about things. A slight, lingering guilt whenever she knows she’s said the wrong thing. Something deep in her core that glows a little when she does a favor for somebody—it first happened when she offered to clean her neighbor’s windows in exchange for some pocket change, at the suggestion of her father to try and instill a sense of responsibility in her post-high school. It was later discovered to be a sense of achievement. She’s been cleaning Ms. Sullivan’s windows every week for seven years. All of this is a horrific secret kept buried to the public, however. There’s a crushing sense of shame in having to admit that you were wrong about your attitude towards the world the whole time. Outwardly, Jack is an older, somewhat muted version of her high school self that somewhere along the way learned how to keep a job. Keep people at arms’ length, maintain a casual rapport with regular customers without intruding on their private business, all limbs inside the rollercoaster at all times. Exist in people’s lives without being a part of them. One obstacle in Jack’s great Quest of Self-Improvement is her impulse to be judgemental. Her observant nature combined with her stubbornness has led to a repertoire of people she has formed sound opinions on, positive or negative (though mostly negative). Even when presented with alternative facts, she is steadfast in her impressions of people and will not budge. Had she ever been an achiever, it may have developed into a superiority complex, but for now manifests as smug ‘told-you-so’ satisfaction whenever her perceptions are vindicated. |
POWER Jack possesses the power of enhanced durability—she can withstand a lot more injury than the average person, and heals quicker from them to boot. Obviously, it’s a lot easier to recover from single injuries than if she were to receive multiple at once, and healing from anything especially severe will put her out for a few days. ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔Her bones can still break, just under a lot more pressure, and she isn’t immortal or anything. It might take a lot more to kill her, but she can still die. The rate at which she can recover from any injuries is still affected by her existing physical health, and her endurance is not at all enhanced by her power, so she can’t go around pulling all-nighters and going on benders and expecting to heal from a bullet wound the same she would if she were perfectly healthy. | - ▼ STRENGTHS ► With Jack’s resistance to injury comes a higher pain threshold, which helps for the particularly gnarly shit. Unbeknownst as of yet, the more injuries she receives the higher this threshold gets. ▼ WEAKNESSES ► Recovering from severe injury can sometimes take it out of her more than the average person, given she’s packing months of recovery into the span of a week or so. ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔► Should her pain threshold get higher and higher, this pain suppression will eventually lead to suppression of any physical sensation. The downsides of this go without saying—an inability to actually feel severe injuries will lead to improper healing and physical deterioration. |
