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[hider=Mundane Information]
Gretel [u]Wendy[/u] Smith

[u]Gender[/u]
Female

[u]Age[/u]
Nineteen

[u]Appearance[/u]
The woman has a thin frame, and is generally small. She rises up to the modest height of five foot [~1.4 Meters]. Her weight is average for her height, being around 130 pounds on average [~60 Kilograms]. Her eyes are a dull blue, and don't really stand out much in comparison to brighter eyed individuals. Her hair is of brunette hues, and only falls to her shoulders.

[u]Personality Characteristics[/u]
Wendy is a shy girl, generally speaking- at least, when outside her usual group of associstes. She, naturally, has her outgoing moments-- but it is far more likely to find the girl with her nose shoved into a book rather than someone else's face. She tends to be concise with what she says in conversation, and comes off as blunt due to this. This bluntness and concise manner of speaking has given her a stoic outlook.
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[hider=Supernatural Quality]
[u]Vicissitude - A quality or state of change, typically unwelcome[/u]

This is the word that Wendy has dubbed appropriate to define her supernatural quality. To define it simply, it is her body taking on the qualities of what she touches with her hands. I.E, if she touched a tree her hands would turn to wood and the effect would steadily spread up her arms. The ability seems limited, however, in the sense that living things, such as plants and trees, are easier and more susceptible to her vicissitude.

In such an early stage of her discovering this power, she can hardly control it and finds that not much more than her hands and forearms actually take on these foreign qualities at her current stage. She also finds that materials that relate to life are easier to vicissitate with, as well. If she touches metal, only her fingers or hands might take on its qualities, whereas if she touches plant life or water her entire arms are viable to shift into a new state. Peculiarly enough her body maintains its ordinary shape and size when these shifts happen, leading her to believe that with time she might be able to control how her new limbs form, and finds that her movement and faculties are not hindered in the slightest.

it stands to reason that, as time goes on and her skill grows, she will be able to shift more and more of her body into a touched material.[/hider]

[hider=Backstory!]
Things aren't going that good for Wendy here...Locked up on a plane, these peculiar government types keeping her under lock and key. The thrum of a jet pulsated around her, the vibrations of a plane in the air rather familiar to the gal. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing shallow in an attempt to sleep. Her hands were gloved, if not bound in more retraining mannerisms. Her hair was dishevel-- hell, her whole being was disheveled. Being kidnapped and suddenly resigning yourself to your fate does kill one's self image.

How did she get here? Well, let's flashback a bit , shall we...?

Her story starts as any other does-- with her birth. It then proceeds to expand with boring exposition up until her early teens, where things began to get a bit interesting. Now, you see, her early years- encompassing elementary and early middle school- were filled with the usual child-like experimentation. As she grew into the young lady that would eventually graduate freshman year of high school, she found herself with a healthy balance of social and private life. Books and journals held her attention at home, whereas in public and at school her friends and associates were her primary focus. Unlike most individuals at this tumultuous period in their lives, she was stable and focused.

She even participated in a few of her school's sporting clubs, but ended up seguing into the Fencing Team as her primary focus. There was just a certain...allure to the old classical fighting style that the gal enjoyed. She was fair at it, and her slight form did give her rather enjoyable advantages, but she isn't...no, wasn't...really athletic enough to excel beyond her club, however. But that is neither here nor there, as her experience with fencing was purely for sport.

Her stability was, in part, due to her concise and blunt mannerisms. It allowed her a stoic outlook on life, and thus she enjoyed a drama-free childhood. She showed sympathy, but never bothered to actually feel what others felt. This stoicism was coupled, hand in hand, with her studious focus. She focused on studies when necessary, which wasn't often, and spent the remainder of time pandering to those friends she considered worthwhile throughout high school.

And the rest of her schooling went by in a flash, high school a blur of happy moments and fun times. Drama club, fencing tournaments, tests, and the occasional party-- everything was coming up Wendy!...

Then one day, during an outing with a group of friends shortly before her nineteenth birthday, they were having a pseudo-celebration, just amongst themselves. Nothing too special, just a get-together at the park for some of their usual good times; books, boys, and chocolate covered snacks. This day started out like any other of Wendy's outings, but ended up turning south when the girl took a nap out in the sun.

Now, for the most part, this was perfectly ordinary. People took naps out in parks often- and even if it weren't fine, her friends were just nearby. Everything should've been A-OK. However, her awakening was...Sudden and rude. She was pushed violently awake and had a jacket thrown over her body by a stony-faced friend who gestured for her to stay quiet. Wendy looked from him to her other associates who similarly looked stunned. Wendy was confused but went to push herself up- and suddenly froze up when she saw her [b]green, fibrous, arm[/b] emerge from under the jacket. She stared at it for a moment with dread before just...Falling back, unconscious.

The next few weeks of hers were spent riddled with paranoia and filled by scribbling into journals and diaries, up until, just a few days after her nineteenth birthday, she was stolen away by the Blind Hand...[/hider]