For: [url=http://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/80488-portwood-institute-for-talented-youths-pity/char#post-2641704]Portworth Institute for Talented Youths[/url] [u][b]PITY - Application for Academic Year 2015/2016[/b][/u] [b]Student Name:[/b] [INDENT]Phoebe Kate "P.K" Rios[/INDENT] [b]Gender:[/b] [INDENT]Female[/INDENT] [b]Nationality:[/b] [INDENT]American[/INDENT] [b]Age:[/b] [INDENT]18[/INDENT] [b]D.O.B.:[/b] [INDENT]January 20th, 1997 [/INDENT] [b][u]Appearance[/u][/b] [img]http://blog.gypsy05.com/image.axd?picture=photo+3.PNG-81.jpg[/img] [b]Hair Color:[/b] [INDENT]Blonde[/INDENT] [b]Eye Color:[/b] [INDENT]Gold-Brown[/INDENT] [b]Ethnicity:[/b] [INDENT]Mexican/African-American[/INDENT] [b]Height:[/b] [INDENT]5'8"[/INDENT] [b]Weight:[/b] [INDENT]140 lbs[/INDENT] [b][u]Powers & Abilities[/u][/b] [b]Power Name:[/b] [INDENT]Photon/Light Manipulation[/INDENT] [b]Power Description:[/b] [INDENT]I have the ability to manipulate light, easy as that.[/INDENT] [b]Abilities:[/b] [INDENT] Due to lack of training, my abilities are a bit... Haywire, to say the least. I naturally attract light, kind of like a glow-in-the-dark sticker! Put me under a lamp for a few moments and then flick it off and you'll see me, clear as day, emitting a white-yellow light from beneath my skin. I have yet to fully understand why this happens, but let's just say I would make a perfect roommate if you need a nightlight to sleep. Light manipulation is where I have most of my knowledge. Every since puberty I've been able to generate light with slight strain. A snap of the finger can summon a spark, a waving motion can produce a beam, and all this light is for me to control! Moving the light is easy, it flows like water if I concentrate enough, but I can also solidify it to produce shapes, projectiles, and platforms that I also control. This might be my main form of defense, as these shapes are indeed just solidified light. They can burst into a blinding flash if dropped and cause serious damage if set off too close to someone. Other then that, I can also bend the light, allowing slight visual warping and invisibility to me and those in my general vicinity. A slight movement in the peripheral, dousing a lamp's light for a moment, or even a made up shadow are easy to create if I'm concentrating enough, and I'm sure I can produce more illusions with the right amount of light present. As for invisibility, it is easiest to do to myself then to do to others. A shield of light is key, as without it the trick is basically useless, and with a few hand motions I can bend the shield to render myself and those within invisible. We are completely gone to the naked eye, but we will still emit sounds and appear on any heat-detection devices. I am also only able to use this skill is we are stood still, movement can very easily disrupt the shield and since light isn't solid when bent, you'll walk right out into the open. Other than that, my ability allows me with few useless skills, such as producing colors from thin air and making nifty, cordless lamps for those who ask nicely. [/INDENT] [b]Drawbacks & Weaknesses:[/b] [INDENT]- The dark is my one big fear. Being extinguished, put out for ever, it is so easy to be blotted out. Darkness can overwhelm my light if I am not careful. If I am stuck in a dark room for over five hours I become unable to generate my own light, and any attempts can overexert my body. - Over using my power can lead to painful body and head aches. Creating solid light and bending it are the two main factors of these painful contractions. - I am not exactly in control of my powers. I have been known to glow brightly or even vanish if emotionally unstable. Don't get too close if I start getting mad, your eyes are more valuable then my feelings. - No true offensive power. Blinding/distracting people and hiding are my main abilities. And I'm no thick-skinned strong girl either; I bruise easier than a peach. - I'm always extremely hot, even in the dead of winter. My hands and feet burn like I have a fever, and my face is almost always flushed from the heat. I keep many paper fans around for when it gets unbearable.[/INDENT] [b][u]About You[/u][/b] [b]Family:[/b] [INDENT]- Father: Julian Edwardo Rios, 47 - Mother: Kayla Smith Rios, 45 - Brother: Ross Kyle Rios, 22, estranged [/INDENT] [b]Personal Statement:[/b] [INDENT]Without truly realizing it, fireflies have always been a big part of my life. Okay, that might be a bit weird to start off with, but trust me it's important! Growing up in New Orleans, right on the edge of the bayou, nature was always around me. The humid summers always brought an abundance of mosquitos, spiders, and, of course, fireflies. Small, glowing orbs that skimmed the water and clung to the grass right outside my house. I would run through the waist-high turf on those cloudy nights, ignoring my mother's pleas to get out of the mud and let her check for ticks, just to see those bugs leap up and coat the star-filled sky with yellow and green. The were always brief in their arrival, but every summer since I could remember their appearance are as clear as day, stuck in my mind like an oil painting. I suppose I was inspired by those gleaming insects. They were always... Free. Living the high life, if only for a few days. The early summer nights were theirs and theirs alone; and their beauty and grace always humbled me. My father took notice of my fascination, and took to calling me his "little firefly" ever since the appearance of my little mutation. As I grew and my powers started to develop, I took lessons from the fireflies. I let their lights stain my skin, leaving gleaming dots among my dark flesh, and watched as they generated their glowing abilities with a sense of repetition. They taught me how to conjure the gleams they produced, and showed me the many ways my body differed from that of normal humans. They were my inspiration, my reason for waking on those muggy nights and walking aimlessly through the high brush, ignorant of the other bugs that may threaten my lessons. My family was my other main source of joy. My mother and father were the true ideal couple, they loved like no one else could. It was as if every day was the first day they met, and every night they would lay with me and discuss the beauty of the world and myself and our family as a whole. I never knew any of my grandparents, were never introduced to either side of the family, but I remember seeing letters in the mail with unfamiliar first names and my last. They were always scraped, along with the ads and magazines that the mailmen would bring from time to time. I taught myself not to question why, and simply made excuses for my folks. Everyone has their secrets, after all. Despite that, I also have (had?) an older brother, Ross. He went off to join the army when I was fourteen, and to tell the truth we never really got along. He called my fascination with stars and fireflies "weird" and "stupid", so I in turned said that his love of video games made him a "friendless loser". Those were how the big fights usually started, anyway. To say I don't miss him is a lie, though, I would kill to see his scuffy face again. My school life leading up to PITY was rather uneventful. I was an average student in science, below average in English, and above average in math. My varying report cards never really affected me the way they should. I found school to be the less stressful part of my life, while staying in a group of friends became my number one cause of panic. I could never hold good relationships with people as I am always described as being "weirdly cheerful and unnaturally distant". I could never really wear my emotions as clearly as I wished, and my face was always smiling, so I suppose most people thought I was fake. I managed to snag a few lovers in my freshman and sophomore years of high school, but each ended awkwardly and without much fuss. My parents simply say that I am just a bit too lethargic when it came to conversation, and I guess they're right in the end. My mutation first began to appear after my first period at the age of twelve. My mother was discussing something in my room, me lounging lazily on my bed, and after she finished speaking and rose to leave I requested she shut off my lights. The iridescent bulb flicked off in an instant, but instead of the room turning dark my skin began to visibly glow. My mother's reaction was a bit harsh, she screamed and fell back, but after a few moments she rose to ask if I hurt anywhere. Stunned by my own glow and doubly fascinated, I shook my head, and then simply asked, "Does this happen to a lot of people?" My parents were slightly distraught over me being a mutant, but they each got over it in their own way. The kids at school, however, either never found out or began to avoid me. Keeping my mutation a secret was easier said than done. A girlfriend I had managed to score at the age of sixteen found out one sleepless night and spread the news all around school the next day. I became somewhat of an outcast, but it didn't really bother me too much. Loneliness is a heavy burden to bear, however, and the fear of abandonment began to set in after a year of eating lunch alone in the bathroom. Back-stories aside, I must point out that I have many interests to share. Astrology, painting, and algebra are my main favorites. The thought of tracking stars and forming colors always gets my creative juices flowing. As for math, well, I've always had a knack for equations and numbers. No use hating it, right? As for training my abilities, I've always had a bit of trouble controlling myself. Finding this school seemed like pure luck, and I'm hoping that this application may make me seem fit to attend. I need help, and hopefully PITY can spare some room to give me some.[/INDENT] [HIDER=Sample post]"Phoebe Kate Rios! You open this damned door right now! Don't you mess up that sink!" The peeling, white door rattled, brass door-knob simply refusing to turn, and Phoebe felt a grimace (or perhaps a smile) form on her lips. Her hands reached to pull the sink's handles further, the stream of steaming water soon loudly gushing from the faucet without delay. Phoebe listened as her mother grunted, whispers drowned out by intense flow of water, and after a second of silence from both parties she continued on applying bleach to her hair. Her kinky, uncontrollable, black hair. Just running her fingers though the afro mess above her head made her feel uncomfortable. She was craving something... Unnatural. Lighter. Something that would completely [i]ruin[/i] her hair. Bleach seemed like the best option. "C'mon, P.K! Your hair is beautiful ya don't gotta change it!" Her hands clenched, nose turning up at the pleading of her mother. That very attitude was what spurred her wish to change. Contrary to popular belief, Phoebe liked to do the opposite of whatever is said to her. Making her feel unable to change and be herself just seemed to strive to rebel. And so, here she was, a fifteen year old child with hair coated in a chemical that gave her headaches and hands massaging the white goo deeper into her roots. They would get over it, maybe even like it in the end, and that single thought is what gave Phoebe the force to continue. Eventually, after smoothing over some stray curls, her hair was entirely coated, and she covered the mess with a spare plastic bag before sitting cross-legged on the toilet seat. The small bathroom was now deadly quiet, save for the brewing summer storm outside and the rushing water from the small, porcelain sink, and Phoebe let her eyes wander across the green-tiled space. Each shadow, each moldy corner, each sliver of peeling paint was familiar to her, it was the family's only bathroom after all, and as the steam stained the messy mirror and the storm continued to wail against the white-painted window a feeling of uncertainty spurred in her chest. [i]what if it doesnt look good? what if my parents really do hate it? what if the kids at school make fun of me? what if wha[/i] A crack of thunder caught her off guard, and a small cry of fear escaped her mouth before the lights flickered and vanished all together. If not for her glowing skin the bathroom would have been swallowed by darkness, and after a moment of catching her breath she rose, fixing the bag on her head before reach forward slightly to turn the sink off. She listened as rain slapped the window and her mother shrieked with fear and/or excitement and her father thumbed around the house loudly, probably heading out to check the breaker. Her head had begun to burn from the bleach, but the silence of the bathroom and the smell of chemicals and the life that continued all around seemed to calm her nerves, just enough for her to smile and begin to laugh at the thought of having blonde hair once more. After twenty minutes of sitting still and glowing, she rose, sticking her head under the stained faucet and turning the hot water back on with a flick of the wrist. The bleach melted from her curls, filling the white sink with thick, white liquid, and the harsh smell of the chemicals and the steam filled her nostrils and throat, forcing Phoebe to hold her breath and simply scrub. Eventually, the bathroom flickered to life again and the bangs on the door began once more. "Hang on, ma, I'm awlmost done..." Phoebe muttered, straightening, examining her newly-discolored hair in the smoky mirror. A smile parted her dark lips, and after a second of preparing herself she turned towards the door, unlocking and pulling the door open. Outside, her broad-shouldered mother stood, a look of disapproval clear on her face. Her dark eyes scanned the smaller body before her, up down, and then with a half-hearted sigh she held forward a towel. Phoebe took it with a smirk, throwing it over her soaking mob before tilting her head and asking, "Does it look bad?" [/HIDER]