Violet

Xavier's Institute for Gifted Youngsters

Spencer

Today will be simple, she wrote, biting the bottom of her lip. Just don’t fuck up and everything will be okay. No one will get hurt, I won’t get stared at, and I’ll get to see some pretty cool artifacts. Spencer knew this wasn’t at all accurate, as people would look no matter if she exposed her abilities. They always glanced over her way, regardless of what was happening. She etched out the staring portion and in the midst of doing so, found herself scrawling all over the page, leaving no words to be visible. Spencer ripped the page out of her journal resentfully and wadded it into a ball, throwing it lightly to her side where it grazed the trashcan but didn’t make it in.

This day especially, was going to be awful. Today meant confrontation and small talk, two things that she was awful at. She was going to be closed in by four walls with hundreds of other people looking at historical objects that she didn’t give a shit about. She wondered if it was too late to opt out of this.

It was.

Spencer and the others piled into a bus, along with several faculty members that would be supervising them all throughout the tour. She scoffed, her face pressed against the cool window. I’m not a fucking child, she thought bitterly, I can handle myself. If only that were so. She knew that they weren’t really there to watch them closely so that they wouldn’t touch anything, but more so if anything happened regarding their abilities, they would be there to help. After all, they’d had years of practice with the oh-so infamous Charles Xavier who'd started this whole organization in the first place. Some of them, anyway.

The car ride wasn’t at all long, but Spencer was asleep by the time they arrived. Someone – she wasn’t sure who, exactly – nudged her shoulder, causing her to jerk awake to the sight of a large, white building that must have been the museum. To her dismay, it was packed, just as she’d predicted. She’d hoped that maybe they would be the only ones there, but even then, that was likely to draw more attention than if there were wandering people all around.

Curling her fingers into tight fists, Spencer wearily tuned in on the information being given by the headmistress, Mrs. Pryde. Spencer's eyes flickered slightly at the mentioning of her name in a group with two other people and Professor Vaughn as their guide. She rather liked Professor Vaughn. Not only for her looks, but also for the subjects she taught. Spencer had always adored English with a passion other students in her school clearly didn’t have. She understood it better than most did, and with that, there had always been a pressing thought that if her past hadn’t occurred the way it did – would there have been a chance she’d been able to pursue the career of being a teacher?

Spencer thought it was unlikely. She wasn’t much of a speaker. She also didn’t have much experience with teens other than herself, and if she was correct, most teenagers didn’t act the same way she did. Nor had they had a past like she did.

Shaking those thoughts away, Spencer shuffled behind her group, her head swaying in every direction. She couldn’t get enough of this museum. There was so much to see in such little time. Every step she took, she knew she’d missed something, but couldn’t bring herself to stop and actually look. Her group was moving too fast for that. Spencer couldn't keep up.

Taking in a sharp breath, Spencer muttered that she was going to the bathroom (if anyone had even heard her) and bolted to where they’d entered. Where the hell were the signs for the restrooms? Goddammit, why is this so fucking hard? She thought, displeased by the lack of signs that indicated where everything was.

Deciding to randomly select a direction, Spencer practically sprinted to the end of the hall. Veering a sharp left, she finally located the restrooms, and aimed for the women’s restroom. Had she known any better, she would have thought to use the men’s restroom. At least then, she wouldn’t have gotten judged so harshly. Spencer had just grabbed ahold of the handle when she knew something wasn’t right.

It started off as a rumble. It was low enough for her to assume that it was construction on a new project, but in seconds, it spread upward and then all at once, the sides came crashing in. “Get down!” she shrilled. Spencer found a straggling person and laced her arms around their frame, wrenching them to the ground with all of her force. Debris hit her back and she thought she felt a shard scrape her cheek, but she held still, using her arms to shield the other girl’s face.

Finally, after what had felt like years, everything settled. There was silence and then someone was asking if they were all okay. It was a girl from school – Mila, she thought her name was. Swallowing thickly, Spencer reluctantly released the girl, landing backward on a painting that had fallen. “Ouch,” Spencer grumbled. She craned her head to see Mila, now standing and totally unharmed. Spencer scrambled to her feet as well and brushed herself off, taking in account for everyone that was here. All of them appeared to be alive.

Crouching to the girl still on the floor, Spencer frowned. “Are you alright?”

Xavier's Institute for Gifted Youngsters

El_Tigre said
Do you mind if Mila bugs Spencer? Lol not in a mean way but in a sweet, curious way? Mila having lived a large portion of her life in seclusion gives her the natural inclination to go to those that are alone lol

Not at all! By all means, go right ahead.

Besides, if she's not involved with at least one character, my posts become boring and rather redundant. xD

Just give me a bit to make a post. (:

Xavier's Institute for Gifted Youngsters

I've posted my character in the character bin. I'll work on a post in a bit.

Unfortunately, homework must come first.

Xavier's Institute for Gifted Youngsters (Cast List)

Name: Spencer Marianna O’Connor.
Codename: Odora.

Age: Nineteen.
Place of Birth: Phoenix, Arizona.

Occupation: Starbucks employee.

Family:
-Daniel O’Connor – Father.
-Evelyn O’Connor – Mother.
-Richard O’Connor – Younger brother.

Sexuality: Gay.
Relationship Status: Single. And she plans on keeping it this way.

Mutant Ability: Ice Manipulation –
With this power, Spencer can create, shape, and manipulate ice, as well as freeze objects merely by physical contact, otherwise known as ‘ice touch’. Spencer may also use the hydrogen particles in the air to form ice using both her mind and hands as wielders. While there is very little that Spencer has discovered about the potential of her abilities, Spencer has realized that with her powers, she is capable of healing herself as well as others by absorbing the frozen energies and using them to freeze molecules which then renew damaged cells, which can ultimately stop the bleeding. Ice has the competency to provide energy in closing up wounds, and overall, allowing optimal health.

Limitations:
-Spencer has a difficult time creating ice from hydrogen particles, reverting to using already existing sources.
-Dry areas (mainly around fire or deserts) make it even more difficult for her to produce ice.
-Spencer has little control over her Ice Touch, and could possibly freeze objects – or even people – without having realized it.
-Her ability to heal only works with that of small wounds.
-She hasn’t had a successful case of healing another person as she has herself.

Personality:
Spencer, to put it simply, is a very introverted person. Remaining solely to herself, she relies on no one, and carries the mentality that others are not to be trusted. With that being said, she is a very quiet individual, preferring not to speak when it is unnecessary. While she has thoughts, she does not process them as many others would. Spencer is utterly emotionless. She does not bring herself to feel what one would normally feel – happiness is foreign. Sadness is too energy consuming. She brings herself to be numb, really, as being without much feelings is easier than having them.

Even so, there is a portion of Spencer that is so terribly vulnerable and raw, that even she is terrified of it. There is sheer anger, resentment, fear, betrayal, anxiety, sadness – tears, oh god, the tears – and only ever does this come at night when the nightmares hit. The memories. The recollections. The remembering. Spencer hates to remember. She despises it. She does her best to think only of the present and occasionally of the future. Her survival, although pointless, is her only way being. Of existing.

She knows she is alive. She is not at all an idiot, for that is what everyone with a beating heart is doing. But she is not living. Perhaps it is because she does not know how to live.

History:
Over the years, Spencer has forgotten a majority of her past. She’s suppressed it, every little detail, deep within her mind, in order to not recall the damage she’d lived through. Having a drug-dealer as a father and a drug-doer for a mother, her house was rarely ever unoccupied. Being that her house was so utterly cramped, Spencer had never been given a room of her own, much less a bed, forced to share one with her little brother, Rickie, in a room with whoever was lucky enough to snag the bed that had previously been hers. Rickie and Spencer learned to share a bed at a very young age, never sleeping without the other, too afraid to know what the consequence might be.

While there was very little she could do for herself, Spencer was consciously active in keeping Rickie out of trouble, no matter what may happen to her. By the age of ten, she’d managed to get her own job mowing lawns. The pay was very little, but it was manageable, as the money her parents made was stowed away for drugs they did not grow or could not get for free. With this money, she purchased perishables, water bottles, as well toiletries that they lacked. On Christmas, she bought Rickie toys, and they often times played with his action figures when they were alone.

Even though she never told a soul, teachers would often ask if her parents were hurting her at every opportunity they got. She and Rickie both – per their father’s request – had denied it every time, knowing that they’d be punished if they said anything. Teachers were always suspicious of the two, as they constantly came to school smelling of alcohol and weed. It wasn’t until Spencer was sent to school with bruises all along her chest did the school finally call the police.

She was only thirteen when she was taken from her family. It was nine at night. She and her brother had just gotten into bed when gunshots sounded. Her mother began wailing. Father shouting. Her brother was hyperventilating. Men in uniforms came into their room and carried them to cars. Separate cars. It was so quick. So abrupt. So sudden. And no matter how many times she implored the officers, she never saw them again. Not her dad. Mother. Not even Rickie.

She’d been put into a foster home the next morning, with her own room and blankets that didn’t have blood stains on them. The nights were often silent and her room did not smell of weed and mildew. There weren’t alcohol bottles strewn all across the hallways. No one was yelling or fighting. People smiled. The girls wore tank tops and shorts, not at all frightened that it would be too provocative. The adults flipped pancakes, offered everyone more, to which they denied. They denied more food.

For four years it went on like this. Spencer hopped from foster home to foster home, never complaining, never questioning. Always silent.

She was fifteen when she wanted to cut her hair. The woman whom she’d lived with at the time, Tammy, did it for her. She shaped it in such a way that it framed her face and brought out her jawline more. It was masculine. And it suited her well. Of course, the kids at her school did not understand her want to dress in the attire she chose and act more like a boy and less of a girl. They spat at her, threw objects, hissed “faggot” underneath their breath. Her locker was always covered in sticky-notes with scrawled on adjectives in the morning. She had a process, a way of making it through the long weeks.

Get up, go to school, ignore their comments – don’t listen, don’t listen, goddammit, don’t listen – tear off the notes, get through all her classes in one piece, come home, go for her bedroom.

This was a continuous routine that did not end until she was out of high school. It was then that her powers developed, and it was then that Spencer left her foster home and headed for the roads. She did not have a car, much less any friends to drive her to the bus station, so she hitchhiked. She walked for hours on end. Found herself in a small town down in Virginia. She found sanctuary here, choosing to stay away from others rather than have them discover who – no, what – she was.

She got herself a job at the only grocery store for forty-seven miles and bought a nice house just two miles away. She walked it to and fro, using whatever free time she had to control the abilities she’d been cursed with. When a letter came in at the age of nineteen, though, of a school that was welcoming applicants such as herself, she spent days wondering of the damage she could cause. Still, the letter spoke of the training of her abilities, and the assistance in understanding, which was something that she could use.

Spencer wasn’t at all a fan of accepting the help of others, but she found herself drawn to this school. She packed her bags, located the nearest bus station, and headed off to the Institute.

Xavier's Institute for Gifted Youngsters

El_Tigre said
We had a drop out so there should be plenty of room :)

So I saw. I just wanted to make sure, though. Didn't want to be make a bio only to be told that there wasn't any room left. Haha. c:

Little Fox said
Go ahead and shoot me a CS, Violet. We've lost two or three writers, so I think we can take on another.

Will do. I should be done with it sometime today.

Xtreme said
Like the others said, you're more than welcome to make a CS :)

Alright. Thank you. ^-^

Xavier's Institute for Gifted Youngsters

Hm. Despite it saying this role play will continue to be open to newcomers, I just want to make sure that I am still able to do so. If there are too many active players, I understand, but I am quite interested in joining if I may.

New Lilith: Shadows of Darkness

Stein said
Pfft. I wrote more than half of my posts for Mavericks on the old guild fucked up in some form or fashion. Das called college style baby.

You also have a very high alcohol tolerance being that it's easy for you to obtain. I, however, only get it every now and again. If I'm lucky. xD

New Lilith: Shadows of Darkness

I hope to have a post up within the next few days. I am in the midst of completing it right now, but seeing as I'm quite tipsy, I'm not sure how much I would get done effectively at this very moment. I apologize for the inconvenience.

New Lilith: Shadows of Darkness

Name: Carter Marie Sampson.
Nickname: Carton of Sass.
Alias: Raven.

Gender: Female. Taco.

Birthday: December 11th, 1996. Seventeen.

Height: 5’0”.
Weight: 104 Pounds.

Hair Colour: Dark Red.
Eye Colour: Green.

Appearance:


Abilities: Weather Manipulation
Carter possesses the ability to manipulate the weather. With this she can alter the weather in any way she so pleases, having the capability of controlling the meteorological patterns, creating wind, rain, hail, lightning, snow, sleet, fog, and inducing temperature changes.
Within this ability are four main factors:
Air Manipulation – Carter can create strong winds that travel up to 63 miles per hour, enabling her to focus the air primarily on herself to initiate flight for herself or others.
Electricity Manipulation – With the intensity of a storm rising, Carter can cause lightning to hit particular spots on command (ranging from one lightning streak to three at one time).
Thermal Manipulation – Relating to winter storms, despite whatever the current condition may be, Carter is able to shift the temperature to below freezing or in some occasions, just above one hundred degrees Fahrenheit.
Water Manipulation – Carter is not able to produce water, but instead can form droplets of water molecules from the air to create rain, snow, fog, etc.

Limitations:
Carter is not at all familiar with her abilities and what extent her strength may have. As of now, Carter’s abilities are based solely on her emotions, thus having the potential to be unstable if she does not keep her emotions in check. With this comes her inability to stop her abilities once having been manifested. This can lead to a broad category of potential threats about the earth, which discourages Carter from using her abilities more than she should. Her abilities also require a great deal of energy which can limit her to how much power she can use at any given time.

Skills and Talents:
-Even after a mere two years of cheer leading, Carter is very flexible and agile.
-She learned from a very young age how to forge any signature and is practically pro at it.
-Carter is an exceptional (and compulsive) liar. Her poker face is unreadable.
-She taught herself how to drive a stick shift as it is all that her multiple sports cars are equipped with.
-Carter is bilingual. She is fluent in both English and Spanish.

Equipment:
Not yet familiar with any form of weaponry, Carter has very few belongings that she carries with her throughout her day in a battered messenger bag. (This list will exclude school-related objects)

-Car keys to her silver 2013 Honda Accord.
-White iPhone 5S.
-Chapstick.
-Marlboro cigarettes.
-A half empty Xanax pill bottle.
-A blue lighter.
-Her wallet.

Biography:
Life was serene in the home of the Sampson’s. Born to a mother of 25 and a father nearing the age of 27, Carter Sampson lived a childhood of simplicity with a single older brother by the name of Richard (Rickie). Her father, a man of great wealth inherited by his deceased parents, worked as a businessman who rarely visited their beautiful home in Long Beach, California. Her mother, however, a dropout of college, spent her days in their hot tub with a magazine and a glass of champagne in hand, her children left to the nannies.

Neither of the two saw much of their parents. With their father constantly travelling and their mother preferring to shop and seek for entertainment away from her children, Carter found sanctuary in painting, her brother flourishing elsewhere – joining an ice hockey team at the age of seven. Neither of them bothered to befriend the nannies as they were both sturdy on their own. Rickie and Carter managed to juggle school and after school activities as well as homework and a healthy social life. While the two children grew older, they saw less of their parents and less of the nannies. Being that they were not children anymore, nannies weren’t necessary, leaving the housework to the maids that came every morning.

Carter began to grow accustom of staying home alone, her brother often at practice from the time school ended to about 10 o’clock at night. While it was a daily routine of Carter coming home to empty rooms, she purchased a grey kitten that she named Boots. Boots was a handful from the very beginning, and demanded the attention of Carter even when she was not available to do so. He would often act out towards the maids, and hissed if they attempted to go near him. He was, from birth, a very sassy kitten, and longed for Carter’s company day in and day out. Unfortunately for her kitten, Carter too, was quite busy upon entering high school.

Being that her brother was two years older than her, their last name was heard all throughout the campus. From freshman year, Carter was spotted out by all that loved her brother as the younger sister of their best hockey player. This tended to irk Carter, and she sought out to be known as much more than just the little sister of a star. So, she too blossomed. Carter was, overall, a well-rounded student all throughout her middle and high school career. She managed a grade point average of 4.0, became a cheerleader during her freshman year, and was known by everyone. Although she ended cheer leading a year later, she was not an easily hated person as she was kind to all that approached her, and loved by the entire school. Her brother was soon accepted into a prestigious college during her junior year, leaving for school several months later, not bothering to give his sister so much as a goodbye.

She was alone at this point. Utterly alone. And all she had remaining were her so-called friends and her little attention-deprived grey kitten, Boots.

Sample Post:
Perhaps the alarm would have been a rude awakening if Boots had not brushed his tail against Carter’s face before it was given the opportunity to go off. Sprawled about the bed with blankets and pillows scattered across her bed, the seventeen year old groaned, shifting away from the little creature. He was not fooled, for the cat moved soundlessly over her figure, once again placing his tail about her head, a purr caught in his throat. He nudged his ear against her cheek and meowed softly, his paw now patting her shoulder tediously. That could only mean one thing: her kitten was hungry.

Grumbling to herself, she scooped the little feline into her arms, sitting upright so that he was aware that she was fully awake. He was content with this movement and settled into her lap, resting there only for a moment before he glanced toward the door and meowed. Carter rolled her eyes, edging herself off the bed, leaving it all to Boots. He seemed to prefer her off the bed, as that was where he slept when she was at school.

Carter trudged to the bathroom, placing her hands about the counter as she inspected the damage of last night’s slumber. Disheveled hair, drool stains just below her bottom lip, smeared eyeliner, and wrinkled PJs. Nothing too bad compared to a night involving alcohol, she had to admit.

Rather than tend to the beast itself, she ran a brush through her hair and swept away the eyeliner as best she could, resulting in less of a mess that she would later on need to take care of. When she turned toward the door, Boots was propped at her feet, his little head craned up at her, his eyes pleading for her attention. She smiled down at her little boy and sighed.

“Alright, let’s go make breakfast,” she told him. If she hadn’t known any better, she would have thought she spotted a small smile reach his lips.

The two padded down the stairway side by side, heading down the long corridor for the kitchen. Of course Boots arrived there first and he made his way up to the counter where he ate, and waited for his meal. Carter chuckled lightly at how eager he was to be fed, and slowly reached for the handle of the fridge. Devastated, her kitten let out a cry, and she gave in, lacing her fingers around the door and tugging.

Someone had gone shopping. The fridge had been packed with a variety of beverages and food items. It was nice to see it all organized for once, being that Rickie usually fucked it up in a matter of hours when he visited. Carter scanned the fridge tentatively, searching for the tuna, and plucked one can from the stack, placing it on the table alongside a plate, a fork, and mayonnaise. For some strange reason, her kitten had taken a liking to human food. Carter had attempted to feed him cat food when his teeth had come in, but after a single sniff, Boots veered toward the fridge, demanding his tuna.

He was a spoiled kitten, as she fed him usually whatever she was eating, but he was her only company and her child. She took him anywhere that she could, and aside from schools, never left him alone. Thankfully, today was Saturday, which meant that her day would be spent watching Gossip Girl in the living room with Boots curled up beside her.

Removing the lid, Carter took the fork and began spooning out the tuna onto the plate. Boots would not touch it yet, however, as the mayonnaise had not been added to it. Carter teased him, taking the jar of mayonnaise back to the fridge to which he meowed at her. Loudly, she might add.

“I was just kidding!” she assured him, though he did not appear amused at all. She added mayonnaise to the tuna and stirred. Once she lifted the fork from the tuna, Boots did not hesitate. He scrambled for the plate and ate quickly, as she’d suspected he would. When he was finished, Carter put away all that needed to be put elsewhere and did the two dishes, not at all surprised that her six plates had vanished from last night.

Making her way to the living room, Carter saw that Boots was already on the couch, awaiting for her to sit so he could adjust to a comfortable position. Tucking a fallen strand of hair behind her ears, Carter claimed the remote and tuned in to the next episode of Gossip Girl. Just as she would any other weekend.

X-men Noir: Let The Good Times Roll

YoshiSkittlez said
Oh and we still need a post from Ari if she is going to show off her ability or not...

Mm, unlikely. She has yet to really unravel any of her abilities, much less the mind manipulation factor. As the story progresses, however, her abilities will gradually become more prominent (referring mostly to her diamond form as that will come unexpectedly at one point, I'm thinking). So I'm going to leave her out of that little presentation and merely have her watch instead. (: <3